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wincore · 3 years

Text

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

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

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

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

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

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

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

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

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

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

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

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago.

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

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

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

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

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

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

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

“Wait!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

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

“I really will ask him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

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

“On one condition.”

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

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

“No way.”

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

You stare at him, weighing the odds.

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

Jaehyun shrugs.

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

You mutter the last part.

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

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

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

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should." You glare at her.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

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

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

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

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

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

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

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

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

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

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

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

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

“—Around ten minutes left.”

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

“That sounds like a load of—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

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

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

“What do you mean, baby?”

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

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

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

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

“You think you’re so—”

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

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

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

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

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

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

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

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

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The two of you look at each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage.

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

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

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

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

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

“Dammit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, yes or no?”

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says with clear emphasis.

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

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

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

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand.

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

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

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

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

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

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

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

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

“It’s not officially there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re both the same thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at her, puzzled.

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

“Don’t give me that cr—”

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is,” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He does?”

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

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

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

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

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

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

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

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry!”

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

“Sorry,” he responds quietly.

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

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

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

“What are you implying?”

“You wanted to kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, not exac—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

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

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

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

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

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think people in love are always brave.”

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

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

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

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

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

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

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

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

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

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

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

"Have this mint or else."

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

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

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

"By me, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What do lovers do anyway?

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

You don’t mind it one bit.

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

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

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

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

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You faltered for a moment there.”

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

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

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

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

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

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

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

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

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

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

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

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

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

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

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

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

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

You exhale.

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

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

“Jaehyun—”

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

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

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

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

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

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

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

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

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Dongmin.”

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

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

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

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

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You point from him to yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no. You know where this is going.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look.

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know.

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no.

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss.

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale.

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response.

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

“And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit.

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thenatashamaximoff · 3 years

Text

Mine To Love

Summary: Every other year, you’re required to train the new SHIELD agents, but will your relationship with Natasha survive the ups and downs when a certain new recruit becomes enthralled by you?

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

Warnings: blood, cheating, torture, drugs, obsession, stalking, sexual assault

Words: 26,106

✎

♞This is a dark fic as confirmed by multiple readers. Please read at your own risk! ♞

The first time she laid eyes on you, she had thought she was still asleep. The beauty, the perfection that caught her attention was only able to be manifested in a dream, but here she was, staring at the impossible goddess as she continued to pinch herself in an attempt to wake up. She was instantly drawn to you, ignoring whoever was talking to her to marvel at you. The way your ears perked up when you smiled, how your eyes sparkled when you spoke, your tongue flicking out to lick your lips when you listened. She was on the other side of the room, but your laughter reached her ears and it was the only noise she heard in the busy lobby.

You placed a hand on Clint's elbow, bidding him a farewell before walking away. Jealousy instantly fell upon her as you left the room, eyebrows pinched together in anger as she watched Clint turn and approach the small group, ordering for attention.

"Welcome to SHIELD, agents," he called out, a smile plastered on his face. The room instantly quieted down, all eyes on Clint Barton as he greeted the new agents. She was amongst the group, a fresh face in the middle of even more fresh faces. She couldn't get her mind off of you, already knowing she wanted you. "This is officially your first day in changing the world. Does anybody have any questions before we begin?"

Her hand was in the air faster than the rest of the recruits, Clint's eyes landing on her immediately. He glanced down at the clipboard in his hands briefly before looking back up at her with a grin.

"Agent Hopkins, what's your question?"

"Who was that you were talking to?" She knew the other agents must have better questions than her, but she couldn't find it within herself to really care. That was the most important question to her: your name. She wanted to feel it come off of her lips, form on her tongue. She needed to know your name urgently.

Confusion crossed Clint's features, clearly not expecting that to be the first question. But he quickly regained himself, his small smile returning. "That was Y/N," he answered. "Some of you will be training under her. She is one of the best agents we have, so you'll all learn a lot from her. Any other questions?"

Her hand remained down this time.

Y/N. The way it felt so natural to think, even more natural than breathing, just made every concern and fear she had from her first day disappear. Her imagination can't even begin to fathom how your touch feels, how your voice sounds. She needed to hear you, only your laugh was replaying in her head. And as that was enough for now, it wouldn't be enough forever.

Clint's words blurred into the background as she let her mind wander, thinking about you, how her first meeting with you would go, how she could be a reason why you smile or, if she's lucky enough, laugh.

"There's six of you," Clint announced, dragging her attention back to his speech. She cleared her throat when she realized that she had been blushing, her face hot with red. "You're going to be put into groups of two and you're going to shadow an agent." He read off the list and she felt her heart drop when her name was attached to a Romanoff and not yours.

But it's okay. Once she's done with training, she'll have you wrapped around her finger.

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You were too busy looking down at your phone to see where you were going, rounding a corner rather sharply. You ended up running into somebody, your phone falling out of your hands at the sudden impact and you immediately looked up. You made eye contact with a doe-eyed woman, her eyes wide in shocked surprise as a small smile settled on your face. Her black hair extended past her shoulders, light and bouncy.

You don't know how many times she had apologized, bending down to pick your phone up for you, but you knew it was at least a thousand.

"Hey, it's okay," you assured. "Accidents happen. Besides, I'm pretty sure it was mostly my fault anyway." You accepted your phone from her and shoved it into your pocket, her face still frozen in shock. "You're new, aren't you? What's your name?"

"Agent Maria Hopkins." She moved her hand up to her forehead, her body straightening as she offered you a rigid salute and you laughed. There was that sound again, the laughter she had been playing inside her head all day. And now your voice was in her head, even better than she had imagined. She wanted to keep you talking.

"You don't have to do that," you told her. "Who's your trainer?" You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your shoulder against the wall, getting into a more casual position. She enjoyed seeing you act casual, knowing you didn't need to be wary of her. Relaxed, trusting, everything she needs you to be.

"Agent Romanoff," she answered, your smile widening. She mirrored your smile, wondering what kind of inside joke you were thinking about and if she was ever going to be in on it.

"Good luck," you told her. "Nat's a bit of a hardass. And you could tell her I said that." You laughed as you pushed yourself away from the wall, holding your hand out to her. "It was nice to meet you, Maria."

The way your mouth formed around her name had her heart beating hard against her chest. She immediately got nervous, thinking you could hear her heart pick up speed, that it was that loud. And when she accepted your hand, your touch was warm and surprisingly soft. She didn't want to let go, the most amazing thing she ever felt was you. But she felt herself getting greedy, already wanting to touch more of you. Wanting to break the barrier between you and her - your clothes. When your firm grip loosened, she had to let go. She didn't want to scare you away.

"It was nice to meet you, too, Agent-"

You laughed, waving off her sentence. "Please, don't start the formalities with me. Just Y/N is fine."

"Y/N." It was the first time she said it out loud since she learned it this morning, and she loved the way it sounded coming off of her mouth. She felt herself melt as you sent her one last smile, your eyes twinkling with the stars of the night, before walking around her, bringing out your phone once more as you ventured away from her.

She watched you walk away until you disappeared around another corner.

"Watch it." You looked up, startled, as you stopped in your tracks. Natasha laughed at your expression, uncrossing her arms from over her chest as you tuck your phone away.

"You know, I was just telling a new agent about you," you said as she wrapped her arms around your neck, her hands hanging limply behind you. She hummed thoughtfully, a grin forming on your face. "Yeah, I told her that you're a huge pushover and that you should never, ever be taken seriously."

An eyebrow quirked up, a look of a challenge resting on her face. Here we go. Every other year, when the new recruits come in, always shadowing you, Natasha, and Clint, the wager is always the same. By the end of the training, you'll have each of your agents pitted against each other in a sparring match, the loser has to pay for the fanciest, most expensive dinner on the market. The rules remained the same, you can do whatever you want to the trainees, but you can't let them find out about the bet. There isn't allowed to be any influence in the finals. You've been on a losing streak, but this time you weren't going to lose. You have faith in your recruits this year.

Natasha pulled you against her, her arms still resting on your shoulders as your nose brushed against hers. "Let's spice it up this year," she offered and you pulled your face away from hers so you could look into her eyes. This time, your eyebrow raised.

"Last time you said that I ended up having to clean our bathroom for a month."

"And you did such a good job," she whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips against yours. You couldn't help but laugh, bubbles rising in your chest at her closeness. Her smile grew wider as you placed your hands on her hips, pulling her flush against you. She knows what she's doing to you.

"What is it this time? A month of laundry? Am I going to have to be your personal chef?"

"Oh, so you're welcoming a loss?" Natasha laughed when you wrapped your arms around her waist, squeezing her against you. Your cheeks burned hot under her stare, your heart beating for her touch, and the only thing you could think of was how soft her lips looked. This woman.

You couldn't help but lick your lips after sneaking a glance at hers. That motion didn't go unnoticed, Natasha raising her eyebrows in a challenging manner and a smirk resting on the lips you just needed to touch. She wants you to kiss her as much as you do, but that would mean letting her win. You didn't want to lose. "No, I didn't-"

"It seems like you are," she interrupted, smiling widely when you rolled your eyes. "It's okay, Y/N. I know I always win every time."

She was right about that. When it came down to it, it was always between you and Clint for second place. You don't know how she always manages to win, but you didn't care as long as you didn't come in third. If she was going to add another little challenge between the two of you, though, then you have to come in first this time. Or at least get her to be third place.

"I was thinking," she continued, "that we take a little vacation this year."

A vacation? The two of you hadn't taken a vacation in forever, even separately. You’ve been dating her for almost four years (friends for longer) and you haven't even vacationed together. And, boy, did you two need one. All that vacation time you have gathered has just been sitting there, growing, while you ignored it. Maybe it'll do some good to take a breather from everything.

You couldn't help but laugh. "You think that you're going to survive a vacation? You?" You knew Natasha was a sucker for the action. She wouldn't be able to sit still during a vacation, let alone be able to stay away from work.

She left you cold when she pushed away from you, a small, subtle smile resting on her lips. "I can definitely last longer than you, Y/N."

You weren't even going to argue with her on that one. As much as Natasha loves the work, you love it even more and there's no denying that. "What's the bet, Nat?" She laughed again as you pulled her back to you, her fingers resting delicately along either side of your jaw. You leaned into her touch, resting your forehead against hers as your eyes fluttered close at the feeling of her pressed against you, waiting for her to speak.

"Winner gets to choose the location," she said.

You pulled away from her to look her in the eye once more, skeptical. You could see that glint she's got going on. She already planned this out. You wouldn't be surprised if you looked at her phone to see a whole itinerary for the trip. What game is she playing right now?

"You already chose one, didn't you?" You laughed when she shrugged innocently, maintaining eye contact. "You're so cocky, you know that?"

She nodded as she dipped her head, her lips locking onto yours, but the kiss didn't last long before you heard someone clear their throat.

"Enough PDA." You broke away from Natasha to see Clint, taking a step back with your hands raised in surrender.

"I'm sorry, officer, but she made me do it," you announced. "I'm a victim here."

"And I'll do it again!" Natasha grabbed your shirt and pulled you into her, connecting your lips once more, the kiss deeper, more passionate than the last. Your cheeks ignited, hot red coloring them as you felt her push against you, desperate to get you as close to her as possible. You definitely would've dropped to your knees if she weren't holding onto your collar. It was interrupted when you started laughing, looking over at Clint to see him roll his eyes. A small part of you wanted to take Natasha out of the public eye, behind a closed door, but the bigger part told you that you had some agents to meet and you didn't want to be late. Responsibilities. You stepped away from Natasha once more but held onto her hand. You wanted to keep that physical contact for as long as you could.

"So, I showed the recruits their rooms and left them to their own devices," Clint said, crossing his arms over his chest. The one advantage Clint has in this competition is the fact that he meets them before you and Natasha. And you're pretty sure he changes the assignments, making sure he gets the best ones. But, if he does, then he doesn't do a very good job at it considering Natasha always takes the crown at the end of everything. "Hey, Y/N, if you manage to keep both of your recruits this year, I'll give you five dollars."

"You're going to eat your words, Barton," you commented. You've lost at least one of your trainees the past few years, but you've been managing with just one perfectly fine…

"You've lost last time," Clint pointed out. "And the time before that. And the time before that." …alright, maybe not. Can he read your mind right now?

"I'm trying something with morale this time," you stated. Maybe you're too harsh on the recruits. You can't see it, though, considering you've seen Natasha train and she's a bit more aggressive than you. "I'm taking my recruits out to lunch."

"Is that why you put down my offer for-"

"No, it's why I postponed it to tonight," you interrupted quickly, looking at Clint with wide eyes. Hopefully, he doesn't put two and two together. "I have a date with not one, but two people."

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face told you she was only joking as she said, "I'll remember this tonight."

"What's tonight?" Oh, Clint Barton, you innocent man. So clueless. His fear of missing out on things was going to be his downfall. Yet, you couldn't blame him. A lot of fun things happen around here.

You and Natasha smiled widely at him.

"I want in," he stated, looking between the two of you. The smiles on both of your faces weren't helping his case. "Come on, guys. I've been preparing for this stupid training thing for weeks. I haven't been out in so long."

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I have some recruits to meet," you expressed, slapping Clint's shoulder as you released Natasha's hand. You looked at her. "I'll leave this to you."

You walked away with a grin, letting Natasha fill Clint's mind with the things you were going to do to each other tonight. Though, you know she's not going to get too far into it before he realizes.

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When she walked out of the training room, she bumped into you once again. She was caught in a daze when you laughed, grabbing onto her shoulders instinctively to make sure she didn't fall over. When you released her, she yearned for more of your touch, but the smile on your face sedated her, calmed her. It prevented her from doing anything too rash as you were only standing less than a foot in front of her. So close, she could feel the heat radiating off of your body. Her instinct was to get closer, to push her body flush against yours, but she refrained from doing that. Instead, she blurted out a simple apology. She doesn't even know how she managed to get her mouth to form coherent words, but she did.

"It's fine, Maria," you assured her, a smile still plastered on your face. She doesn't think she ever wants to see anything but the smile, to see how happy you were was the best thing for her. "We should stop meeting like this, though." Bumping into you is the best way to meet. It gives her a good excuse for physical contact, even briefly.

"At least you didn't have your phone out this time," she commented and you laughed once more. Oh, the things your laugh did to her body. She needed to find a way to record it so she could play it on loop. For now, she's just gonna have to go by memory. "How was your training?"

"Oh." You didn't expect her, a recruit, to question the other trainees' session. It was the last thing on a recruit's mind, wondering how the others were doing when they're too busy trying not to mess up themselves. "It was fine. How was Romanoff?"

Maria blew a raspberry, your smile growing. "You weren't wrong about her being a hardass," she said. "Thanks for the warning."

"Hey, I'm just trying to keep people around," you said, casually shrugging. "I figured it's better to expect what you're stepping into. Nat was the one to train me when I first started, too, so at least I know you're in good hands."

She opened her mouth to say something, but cut herself off when she heard the training room door open behind her. She stepped to the side, opening up the rest of the doorway so whoever wanted out could leave. Maria watched as your face lit up, your eyes sparkled and the smile on your face grew even wider. She wanted you to look at her like that, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. And she felt her stomach twist with jealous rage when Natasha stepped out of the room and brought you into a hug. When the hug ended and she peeled herself away from you, though your hand remained on her waist as she looked at Maria.

"Hey, that was great work today, Hopkins," Natasha commented. Maria plastered a smile on her face, but it wasn't as genuine as it was thirty seconds ago. "You're pretty advanced. I might have to start training you separately."

Maria felt her chest puff out at the compliment, eyeing you to see your expression, but you were no longer concerned about Maria. Your attention was all focused on Natasha, your eyes not once leaving her face. As if you were scared that you'd go blind at any moment, memorizing every single inch of skin on the redhead's face, savoring it. Maria lost her confidence, simmering down into nothing as Natasha looked at you. "Thank you, Agent Romanoff," Maria said, earning her attention, but not yours. She cleared her throat as she added, "It was nice speaking to you again, Y/N."

The sound of your name finally pulled your attention away from Natasha, your eyes finding Maria's within mere seconds. "As you." That's it? Just two simple little words? She found herself hating Natasha even more when you looked back at her, no longer giving a care about Maria anymore.

She watched, her fists clenched tightly by her sides, as you walked away, catching Natasha's hand into yours and keeping her close as you left Maria behind. She felt her jaw lock, her teeth grinding together tightly at the anger she was feeling as she watched you plant a quick kiss on Natasha's cheek, your amazing laugh mixed in with her harsh one.

She would have never thought that you and Natasha Romanoff were a thing. This would make it harder to obtain you, but not impossible.

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"You know, I don't understand if I'm being honest with you." Maria was immediately attracted to your voice, following it around the corner to see you sitting on the couch in the common room, Natasha's head rested in your lap as you absentmindedly stroked a hand through her short, red hair. Maria lingered around the corner, listening, watching in the shadows. "Fisher, one of my recruits, dropped out. It's only day three, Nat. Now I'm not going to get five dollars."

Natasha rolled over to lay on her back, looking up at you, her hand delicately tracing over your jaw to make you look down at her. The frustration on your face quickly evaporated when you made eye contact with the redhead, easing your tense shoulders just by her breathing in your direction and Maria aspired to have that effect on you someday. "Not a lot of people can handle this life, Y/N," Natasha said, her voice soft. Your hand got lost in her hair, the curls tangled around your fingers as you melted into Natasha's eyes. "They think they can handle it, but in the end, they realize they can't."

"Easy for you to say. You've never lost a recruit."

Natasha's lips quirked up into a smile as she said, "You would've been my first loss if you had gone through with it."

You remember that day, the day that seems like forever ago. During a shooting drill, you kept accidentally shooting the wooden boards that were supposed to be the victims, ultimately failing the drill on more than one occasion. Natasha must've felt the moment you decided to give up because she went to your room that night, ordering your roommate to leave so she could talk to you alone. She ignored your packed bag and sat on your bed, giving you a secret pep talk amidst a casual conversation. That was the day you realized you had feelings for your trainer, but you were too much of a coward to act on them until years later.

"Did you know that that was the moment I knew I loved you?" You smiled, your free hand placing itself against her chest, her heartbeat hammering against your palm as you leaned down closer to her face.

"What took you so long?" she whispered, your laugh fanning your breath over her face. "I knew the moment I laid eyes on you."

"You're such a liar," you declared before your lips pushed gently into hers.

Maria has seen enough, stepping out into the light and making her presence known by clearing her throat rather harshly as she approached you. Your back straightened when you saw Maria, Natasha turning her head to watch the new agent pause a few feet in front of the couch you were sitting on, her hands folding behind her back out of respect. "Agent Romanoff, I was wondering if I could take you up on the private training," she stated. "I've come to realize that the limited training I receive alongside Agent Griggs is not reaching my full potential." To her, she sounded robotic. She couldn't find it in herself to put any emotion into her words when all she was feeling was anger. Angry that you don't realize you love her yet, but you will.

She couldn't help but watch the smile grow on your face as Natasha sat up, your hand becoming free of the red tangles. She eyed Natasha's curls, not being able to imagine your hand running through her black ones. She'll have to change that.

"It looks like your cockiness is rubbing off already," you commented, leaning back into the couch with a laugh when Natasha playfully smacked your shoulder with the back of her hand. Despite the anger she was experiencing, Maria mirrored your smile, she couldn't help it. The happiness that radiated off of you affected her. "Hey, Maria, if you need any real advice from a professional, come see me."

"I might just take you up on that offer, too, Y/N." She could say your name all day, looking for any excuse to say it out loud in front of Natasha, hoping to make her as jealous as she feels, but when she glanced towards the Black Widow, her expression was only reacting to your words and not hers. "I will take all the training I can get." And all the alone time she could with you.

"Don't go stealing my recruits because you can't keep a leash on yours." Natasha laughed as your eyes widened, looking towards her as she immediately cupped your face. Maria watched with envy as she planted a kiss on your cheek, apologetic.

"Go away," you stated with a smile, waving Natasha off of you. She was still laughing as she stood up, smiling widely as she gestured for Maria to follow her when she started walking. But Maria stared at you for a moment, frozen in your beauty once again as you looked at her, an eyebrow raised in confusion at her hesitance in following Natasha. You released a breath as you said, "You'll be fine, Maria. Once you get past that hard shell, Nat is secretly a big softie."

Maria blinked, falling out of the trap that was you when you said Natasha's name. She only wanted her name coming off of your lips, nobody else's. "Of course," was the only thing she could say before nodding politely and walking away, joining a waiting Natasha to start the private training.

Maria couldn't help but wonder what Natasha had that she didn't. They were practically the same height at a glance, Natasha being just an inch taller than her, and Maria knows that she could treat you better. She would give you every single second of her attention, her hands wouldn't dare touch anybody else, even if it was just as simple as a handshake. She would be strictly yours to love, nobody would even think about it being any other way. But the obstacle that is one Natasha Romanoff was going to have to move, just an inch, just enough for Maria to slide right on through. You weren't going to look at her if Natasha was in the way.

"Excuse me, Agent-" You looked towards the voice with a raised eyebrow, seeing your last recruit, John Nolan, walking up to you slowly. His words caught in his throat as he cleared them away, shaking his head. "Apologies. Y/N," he corrected.

You stood up off the couch. "What can I do for you, John?" He seemed nervous, his hands crossed behind his back in a tight, respectable stance and he avoided eye contact. You were pretty sure you saw droplets of sweat drip down his temple as he cleared his throat once more, sucking in a deep breath and finally maintaining eye contact for more than five seconds.

"Agent Barton offered Fisher a better position in another state," he told you, looking away when he saw your eyes narrow. "That's why he left. I… thought you should know."

The last piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place, the gears in your head spinning at an impossible speed as you put two and two together. It wasn't your fault you couldn't keep a recruit under your belt. It was Clint! He doesn't have the authority to give them a better job than a level six agent. Offering them something that seems better on paper, but in reality, could quite possibly the worst job SHIELD has to offer. Why, that little-

"Y/N?"

"Did he offer you something?"

He shook his head, seeming to be a little bit more relaxed when he heard that your voice came out evenly calm, not a trace of anger in your words. "No, ma'am. I overheard him and Fisher. I don't think I was supposed to-"

"It's a good thing you did," you interrupted. "Clint probably made it sound better than it is, so you're not missing out on anything exciting." He relaxed a lot more on that, letting you know that he was jealous he wasn't the one to get the offer.

"What are you going to do?" His proper posture evaporated, his hands resting on his hips once he saw that you weren't mad at the messenger. "You're not going to tell him I told you, right?"

"Of course not," you assured. Though you really wanted to call Clint out on it, hunting him down so you could get him an instant loss and you would only have to worry about Natasha, there's a much bigger part of you that wants revenge. "Thanks for the heads up, John. You don't have to worry about Clint, I can handle him. If he goes to you with a similar offer, let me know."

John nodded and left. You knew Clint wasn't going to offer John the same job, he wasn't going to take both of your recruits. He wanted some competition, but not the tough one. You should take this as a compliment, he sees you as just enough of a threat to shoot one of your legs. But now you gotta return the favor and figure out something to do to him.

You wandered out of the common room, lost in your thoughts. You couldn't tell the recruits about the bet, that was the only rule in this thing. You had to figure out a different route, something that doesn't lead to you when it's over with.

You heard your name being called, turning around to see Clint jogging to catch up to you, a wide smile on his face. Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, but you plastered a smile mirroring that of his own. You had to bite your tongue to prevent yourself from calling him out on his little evil antic.

"I heard you lost another one," he said. You wanted to smack that shit-eating grin off his face. "He didn't last as long as the others. Such a shame. At least I get to keep my five dollars."

"You know what? It's not even worth five dollars," you said. "You're going to be spending a lot more than that when I beat you in this thing."

He snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "With just one recruit? I'd love to see that."

"Well, consider yourself with front row seats, Barton, because you're going down." Your arms crossed over your chest tightly. "I'm thinking the big steak. That thing costs an arm and a leg."

He patted you on the shoulder, smiling even wider. "Good luck, Y/N." He gave you a small, mock salute before walking away, his shoulders shaking with laughter. You groaned in frustration.

It was impossible to win with just one recruit. He has to fight four people to get the points you need to come in second, at least.

You had plenty of time to figure out a way to get revenge. Training is three months long, and it's only the third day. You knew John was going to be safe, so you weren't worried about it. But Fisher was a stronger agent than John and that's going to take you down a peg. Ugh, Clint, you cheating bastard.

You wonder why he doesn't go after Natasha's recruits. She's a much bigger threat than you are. Both competitively and physically. As long as he didn't come in third, it makes sense why he only sabotaged you. If he went after Natasha and she found out, Hell would be his safe space when she's through with him.

You found yourself outside the training room almost an hour later, walking in to catch Natasha taking Maria down with ease. A smile landed on your lips and everything about Clint left your mind as you watched the two spar, your posture relaxing. Maria caught a glimpse of you in that moment, her measly struggles to get out from underneath Natasha grew stronger in the desire to impress you. Natasha was saying something under her breath to her, giving her tips and advice to get out of a situation like that. Her grip loosened on Maria, giving her an easier chance to break free, and you saw the way Natasha's muscles relaxed. She was going easier on her and Maria didn't like that.

She flipped Natasha off of her, tossing her to the side in one swift movement. She sucked in a deep breath, relieved that all she wasn't breathing was Natasha anymore. You appeared above her, offering your hand to help her to her feet, which she immediately took.

"Your little private session is going well, I see," you stated, patting Maria on the back as she released your hand. She immediately relaxed under your touch, the tenseness in her muscles from having to protect herself against Natasha evaporated. She was at ease.

"I don't see her training lasting three months," Natasha said as she joined you, her hands on her hips as you crossed your arms over your chest. "She might graduate sooner if she keeps this up."

"I'm a fast learner," Maria said, shrugging casually.

Natasha smiled as she looked at you, her eyes soft, her smile genuine, her body relaxed, the same way Maria looked at you. Except you didn't notice it when Maria did it, only Natasha. And that's what made her mad.

"How about I take her for a spin?" The way your eyebrow quirked upwards would have made Maria fall to her knees and beg Natasha to say yes, but the thought of getting tangled with you on the mat made her stressed. She wanted to prove herself, show you that she can handle anything and make you proud, but she didn't want to hurt you. She didn't want to make you feel less superior. She would beg Natasha to say no.

"I don't think-"

"Ah, c'mon, Nat," you stated, playfully shadow boxing her. "I could do with some stress relief." You stepped closer to her, Maria crossing her arms across her chest as she watched the two of you closely, jealousy spreading through her as you lowered your voice to a whisper, seeing Natasha's skin prickle with goosebumps as your breath fanned over her neck. "Between you and me, John's not a very good sparring partner."

When your hand rested around her waist and pulled her closer to you, Maria had to look away, her eyes cast downward to the floor as Natasha planted a kiss on your lips. "Fine," she expressed. "For training purposes."

"Let's go, Hopkins." You clapped your hands as Natasha stepped back, giving the two of you some space.

She preferred hearing her first name come out of your mouth, but Hopkins had the same effect on her.

You squatted down to a defensive stance, the smirk playing on your lips left Maria in a daze. She blinked a few times before she managed to pull herself out of it, getting down in her own stance as she faced off against you. She didn't know if she could handle it, touching you would be too much for her, but the playful sparkle in your eye made her want to have this kind of fun with you. She knew she had to get used to this kind of playfulness. Your ability to laugh at the smallest of things is one of the many, many reasons why she loves you.

When you stepped towards her, she found herself stepping back. Was she really that scared of hurting you? This wasn't a life or death situation, she wouldn't hurt you on purpose. But it was the idea of it being an accident that distraught her. Her capability of hurting you was there and that scared her.

She tried desperately to block you, swatting your light punches away. You were going easy on her, she could tell. She hasn't seen you fight before, but Clint had said that you were one of the best and this was not something someone would do if they were among the top of the totem pole.

"Come on, Y/N," Maria declared after blocking yet another miserable attempt to kick her, drawing your foot back to the ground to maintain balance. Even though you weren't pushing her limits, she still had sweat dripping down her temple. She instinctively wiped it away. "I thought you were the best."

"I wouldn't say the best," Natasha countered. Maria had to fight herself from rolling her eyes. She had forgotten Natasha's presence, her input forcing her to remember that it wasn't just the two of you. "Maybe top, like… five? And that's being generous."

Your posture relaxed, getting out of the fighting stance you held for the past five minutes to look at Natasha, your hands resting on your hips as a smile brightened your face. You looked back at Maria. "Alright, I'll take it up a notch."

"A notch?" Maria wanted to see exactly what you were capable of. "How do you expect me to learn anything? I don't suppose the enemies in the field would take it easy on me."

You sighed, grinning. "Fair enough," you said, holding your hands out in surrender. "Just remember that you consented to this."

Maria nodded encouragingly, knowing that she'd consent to anything that has to do with you. The two of you fell back into a crouched stance, a bit closer than you were originally. And, boy, was Clint telling the truth! She barely had time to react to your punches, your kicks being strategically thrown in there to throw her off guard and it worked. When you made contact with your punches, they didn't hurt. They were light and fast, expertly so.

When Maria finally did manage to get a punch in, you easily and embarrassingly caught her wrist, tugging her close to you. She was flush against your chest, her back against you as you held her in a chokehold, and she completely lost her thoughts at the feeling of being pressed against you. She stopped fighting back, letting your warmth spread through her, but it only lasted a second before the two of you were on the ground. She was left breathless when she finally got herself to focus, seeing your face inches away from her own, both of you breathing heavily at the extended workout as you sent her a cheeky grin. You had her pinned in a much more difficult position than Natasha had her earlier, her arms trapped underneath your body as your hand squeezed her two wrists together, your other arm tight against her neck. That's why she's breathless.

You released her a few seconds later, hopping back to your feet and Maria had to take a moment to collect herself. You were so close to her. If she had just tilted her chin up a centimeter, your lips would've brushed against hers, but she was too dazed to comprehend that little tidbit of information.

She blinked and your hand was hovering above her, a temporary moment of Deja vu as you pulled her to her feet. You patted her on her shoulder as you released her, Natasha joining the two of you as she waved the imaginary white flag in surrender.

"I don't know about that early graduation, sweetheart," you said, looking at Maria but talking to Natasha. You crossed your arms over your chest. "She still needs some work."

She knew you were only joking, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed in herself for not being able to impress you. She deflated, her shoulders slouching as she scratched the back of her head, no longer paying attention to your conversation once Natasha decided to put her two senses in there. She was trying to hold on to that feeling of having more than just your hand on her. The pure serotonin, raw adrenaline. She needed that feeling again. Your entire body was against her and she could still feel you.

Your laughter dragged her out of her thoughts, as it always does. She refocused, the conversation no longer on her skills, or lack of. The two of you were talking about dinner, a date, tonight. You seemed to have forgotten about Maria as you and Natasha faced each other, obviously oblivious to the black haired recruit. She could walk away and neither of you would notice, but she didn't. She listened to the details, wanting to know what exactly was going to happen.

She got angry when Natasha stepped closer to you to whisper something in your ear, envy when you leaned into her touch, her lips brushing against your ear and goosebumps trailing down your neck. That's when she walked away.

Otherwise, she would've punched something. Preferably someone.

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You couldn't help but watch Natasha as she read over the menu. Her eyebrows slightly pinched together in concentration, trying to decide what she wanted to eat. Her tongue flicking out to lick her lips put you in a momentary state of weakness, and she must have sensed that moment because her eyes looked up at you as a smile grew on her face. She picked her head up, resting her chin in her hand as she leaned forward.

The smallest, most non-sensual things send you overboard and she knows it. She preys on that, sending your thoughts into overdrive as you fought against your pure animal instincts to take her right then and there. She eats that up, and that just pushes you over the edge.

"Why do you do this to me?"

Her chuckle made you straighten your posture, tightly locking your body in your chair otherwise you would've given in to those instincts. She casually shrugged as she went back to her menu, the smile on her face not once wavering. "I want to know what your breaking point is."

Your breaking point wouldn't exist if you didn't have any dignity. She knows that, too. "You're getting there," you assured her, listening to the music that is her laughter. "Trust me."

She placed her menu flat on the table, crossing her hands across it as she met your eye. "Then I will keep doing it."

"And when you win?" You raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. "If I give in to these dark desires?"

She leaned forward an inch, subtle. You wouldn't have caught it if her elbow didn't bump against her glass of water. "What kind of dark desires?"

You sent her a wink, holding your index finger softly to your lips as the waiter came by for your order. Her eyes flickered, showing that hint of darkness you loved for a brief moment, letting you see just how vulnerable you made her as well.

You had to look away from her otherwise you were going to get yourself in trouble. You watched the waiter walk away with your orders, disappear around a corner and that's when you saw them. Your smile was associated with humor now, looking back at Natasha to nod in their direction.

"Looks like we're not HR's only nightmare anymore," you said, looking back towards Maria and John sitting on the other side of the room. Natasha followed your stare, a smirk resting on her lips.

"I'm actually surprised," she confessed, making you look back at her. Your expression was the only thing she needed to make herself explain, "I thought she was crushing on you."

"You thought Maria was crushing on me?" You couldn't help but laugh at the thought, taking a sip of your drink. "And what makes you possibly think that?"

She rolled her eyes. You could see the strain in her eyes as she thought about it, though the smirk that remained on her lips would fool anybody into thinking she was truly nonchalant about it. "It is painfully obvious, Y/N," she stated. "Do you really not see it?"

You shook your head, pursing your lips together as you counted back all the times you interacted with Maria and nothing jumped out at you. "No," you admitted, "because I'm only thinking about you."

You laughed when she rolled her eyes again, the sound of your laughter immediately pulling Maria's attention over to you.

"So… have you seen any good movies lately?" John cleared his throat, nervous, as he watched Maria watch you. "I've seen a good one. It's…" His sentence died in the air when he saw that she was too focused on you, not giving him the time of day. He cleared his throat again as he brought his glass to his lip, taking a harsh swallow before returning it to the table. "Maria, I-"

"Don't call me that." Her head snapped in his direction. She didn't want anybody to call her by her own name, Hopkins was fine. Maria belonged to you.

"It's your name," he countered defensively. "Why did you ask me out if you're not going to put all your attention into this date?"

She scoffed, furrowing her eyebrows. "This isn't a date, Nolan." Of course, this wasn't a date. She had only invited John to not look like a sad, lonely person in the middle of a restaurant made for couples. She didn't give him the wrong idea. We should get some food. That's all she said. It was a suggestion and he didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"This is a pretty fancy restaurant for just getting some food," he stated. "I mean, I'm not even appropriately dressed." She eyed him, noticing him for the first time and he was right. He wasn't dressed nicely, his training shirt and sweats didn't necessarily pass the fancy test, but nobody bothered looking at him. The restaurant wasn't maximum fancy, nobody cared. "I just assumed we were getting Chinese or something. Maybe some hamburgers."

"Well, you assumed wrong." The waiter came over then, taking John's order. Maria made the mistake of looking back at you, not bothering with the waiter anymore and not caring when John ordered something for her. "Don't mistake this for anything," she declared once the waiter left, her eyes remaining on you. "We're not friends." Even acquaintance was a strong word. She didn't even think about John, he was just there. He was the first person she saw that she knew would go get some food under false pretenses.

He glanced in your direction, catching you feeding Natasha some of your food and laughing at her expression. "I'm pretty sure they have a bet going on."

His words caught her attention, her head slowly turning to look back at him. He made eye contact with her and cleared his throat. "What kind of bet?"

"The three of them," he explained. "Barton, Romanoff, and-"

"Y/N." You didn't like formalities.

John nodded. "Right." He sighed, clearing his throat. It was like he had something caught in it, desperate to try and get it out. "I don't know what it entails. I just know that it has something to do with us."

"How do you know this?"

"I overheard Barton and Romanoff talking about it," he answered, shrugging as he took another gulp of his drink.

Maria grinned widely, the first smile that landed on her face ever since she arrived at the restaurant. John raised an eyebrow, confused. "This is why we're friends, Nolan."

He shook his head when she turned back to you. "You know, it's never going to happen." He chuckled at the thought of Maria attempting to snatch you away from Natasha. "I heard they've been together for a long time without a hitch." He snorted, a smile growing on his lips. "You're never going to-"

"Shut up," she snapped when she heard your laughter once more, not wanting John's annoying voice to interrupt that beautiful sound. He sighed as he sat back into his chair. She wasn't even listening to his words, but on some level, she heard him and knew he was right. But all good things must come to an end. And, in this case, your "good" thing will come to an end to an even better thing.

"You look utterly ridiculous." Natasha laughed as you tuck your napkin into your shirt, letting it sit against your chest like a bib.

"This is a new shirt, Nat," you stated, "I'm not going to ruin it by getting food on it." You shook your head.

"You dropped one thing and it landed in your lap," she retorted, a hint of laughter still in her voice.

"I'm not taking any chances." You shook your head, looking at her. "This is a common thing in a place like this. It's not absurd."

"It's supposed to go in your lap, Y/N," she explained.

"Then how am I supposed to protect my shirt?" You scoffed, picking up your utensils. "I don't care about my pants."

Natasha laughed once more. "You know what?" You joined in on her laughter when she took her napkin, tucking it into her shirt as well. "I'm not going to let you look like an idiot by yourself."

"Well, thank you for joining me on this adventure, ma'am," you said, nodding your head in thanks.

She rolled her eyes as she continued picking at her food. "I look just as ridiculous as you."

"Impossible!" you expressed, slamming a fist on the table. She jumped as the table wobbled underneath your fist, dishes chiming at the impact, her eyes widening as she looked up at you and only you, not giving a care about the other patrons and their silent judgment being sent your way, and she smiled. "You look absolutely gorgeous and that will never change! Let the entire world know!"

Red colored her cheeks, looking down and away from you. She tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. You couldn't help but laugh seeing her flustered, calming down long enough for the other customers to return to their meals in peace.

"So, the bet between us…" You trailed off, watching as she picked her head back up to look at you, intrigued. "Are you going to tell me what you picked?"

She smiled. "Why would I want to ruin the surprise?"

"Well, I definitely don't want to pick the same spot you picked," you answered. "You probably picked the worst spot to vacation."

Her eyebrows went up as she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back into her chair.

"I didn't mean that you have bad taste in vacation spots," you stated, stammering. "It's just… You… I…" You sighed, grinning. "I trust you to choose a relaxing spot, Nat, but if you even so much as think about work-"

"Y/N, I'm looking forward to this," she told you, leaning forward. She placed her hand halfway across the table, to which you met. She held onto you, her thumb rubbing the top of your hand in smooth, gentle circles. "Even if you do win, I will love it."

"I'm looking forward to this, too," you said softly, matching her grin as you squeezed her hand reassuringly. "But, do tell, what do you have planned? You have every single day planned out, don't you? Show me the itinerary."

She chuckled as she took her hand away from yours, bringing it back to her plate. "I never said I had a plan." That's fair, she didn't.

"For some reason, I really don't believe you."

Maria continued to watch from her seat, seething in pure jealous anger as she can see how undeniably cute the two of you were together. Yet, she knows that you and she would be even cuter. She was excited to be the shoulder you would cry on when your relationship doesn't work out. Not that you'd seek her out, but she'd find you.

She'll always find you.

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48 days into training

The gunshots echoed in your head, bullet after bullet launched forward and you watched as they drove through the wooden boards painted soppily to look like people. John continued to shoot until his gun clicked, and you patted him on the back as he placed the weapon down.

"Great work, John," you complimented as he looked at you with a proud grin, "but next time, we'd like to avoid the civilians." His grin faded as his head snapped forward, looking out into the cluster of boards to see that he actually did shoot a civilian. "Try again."

As he reloaded his gun, you heard someone call your name from behind you. You instinctively turned your head, watching as the black haired recruit made her way to you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as a small smile lifted your lips. John started shooting behind you as she finally reached you, placing her hands on her hips as she stared at you.

"I was wondering if I could join you," she said, nodding towards John. "Agent Romanoff cancelled all the sessions today."

Now your face was just confused. It's not like Natasha to cancel any sessions, she was always persistent when training. Never late, always early. And she didn't tell you she was cancelling today. You wonder what she was up to. "Why?"

Maria shrugged and you sighed at her cluelessness. "All the message said was to take the day off."

You pursed your lips together, thinking for a moment. Not about whether or not Maria could join your session, but about why Natasha cancelled hers. "Of course," you declared, gesturing towards John. "You can take the next turn. I'm assuming you already know how to-"

"Do this course? Yes." She nodded and walked past you, waiting patiently behind John.

You watched the recruits for a moment before anxiety bit you like a bitch, turning your back to them and pulling out your phone. You called Natasha, huffing out when it went to voicemail. You tried once more only to get the same result. You were so focused that you didn’t even hear your name being called until you felt a hand on your lower back, your heart skipping a beat as you gasped at the sudden touch. You turned your head, seeing Maria behind you as she returned her hand to her side.

“Sorry,” she said, grinning a little. You rubbed your forehead, sighing. “John’s out there changing out the boards. I was just checking to see if you’re okay.” Your eyes wandered behind her in time to see John struggle to change one of the boards, not being able to get it out of its stand. You considered helping him, but then decided that it was a learning experience.

“I’m fine,” you assured, looking back at her. “Why don’t you go help John with the boards?”

She sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “I thought the two of you have been together for a while,” she pointed out. “All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t lie to my girlfriend of four years.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head. “It wasn’t a suggestion, Agent,” you demanded. “Go help Agent Nolan with the boards.”

Maria held her hands up in surrender, a small smirk lifting her lips as she stepped back. As fun as it was to hear her name come off your lips, she loved it even more when you took charge like that. The authority in your face sent her off the edge, her body warm and her mind fuzzy as she made her way to John, the small smirk on her face transformed to a wide smile.

Your eyes snapped to your phone when you felt it vibrate in your hands, your stomach dropping when you read the text. Maria turned to look at you, but you were gone.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you sprinted through the halls of the hospital, your mind thinking the worst despite her simple, ominous In the hospital, don’t freak out text. Your feet slammed hard against the floor as you ran, rounding the corner and nearly running into a nurse pushing a cart. You mumbled a sloppy apology as you continued forward, skidding to a stop when you reached the appropriate room number.

Natasha was lying on the bed, her head hidden in a pillow as you pushed against the door. She looked towards the sound of the door opening, picking her head up when she saw you. The door slowly closed behind you as you entered the room, immediately taking her hand when she reached for you.

There was a small skidmark on her cheek, something that’ll heal in no time, and that’s the only injury you could see right now. The look of relief on your face washed away into anger, causing her to roll her eyes and let her head fall back into the pillows.

“Don’t start, Y/N,” she said, a smile tugging the corner of her lips.

“You know how I feel about you riding that motorcycle,” you told her, starting anyway. “Especially since you seem to not like wearing helmets.”

“I’m fine,” she promised, looking back at you. She squeezed her hand, bringing it to her lips to plant a soft kiss against the top of it. You released a heavy sigh, eyebrows still furrowed in anger. “The brakes just stopped working.”

“You could’ve died, Nat,” you said.

“But I didn’t,” she told you, holding your hand against her chest. Your fingers were just close enough to her heart that you could feel it beat against the tips, the feeling sending waves of calmness through you. “It’s just a few scrapes and bruises. I’m alive.”

You released a deep breath, your shoulders relaxing at her words. The door opened behind you, but you didn’t turn to see who entered the room, already too far gone in Natasha’s eyes. It wasn’t until they cleared their throat and spoke that your view of her eyes were broken as she looked towards the interrupter.

“Ms. Natasha Romanoff,” the doctor said, flipping through a chart. You turned to look at him, squeezing her hand absentmindedly. He whistled. “You’re one lucky duckling, aren’t you? I’ve seen the motorcycle and it’s not-” He looked up to meet Natasha’s stare, seeing her shake her head urgently, but it was already too late.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked back at Natasha, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head.

The doctor cleared his throat. “I’ll come back in a minute,” he stated before rushing out of the room.

Natasha sighed as the door closed shut, leaving the two of you alone once more. “I didn’t want you to freak out.”

“I was already freaking out,” you countered. “Tell me exactly what happened, Nat.”

Your hand drew back to your side when she released you. “I was taking a drive around the city,” she started. “I approached a red light, but when I tried to brake for it, I felt the brake piston snap. I jumped off the bike when I realized what was happening.” You could picture the rest of it, her jumping off the bike as it continued forward into oncoming traffic. You didn’t need an active imagination to know what happened after that.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” you confessed, leaning down to gently rest your forehead against hers. “And your text didn’t make me feel any better, by the way. If you had become a vegetable or something, I would’ve killed you.”

She laughed, her hand resting on the back of your neck. She pulled you down, connecting your lips to hers in a soft kiss. You felt yourself melting into her, having to use the bed to keep you somewhat on your feet. When the door opened once more, you forced yourself away from her.

"Now that everything seems to be okay," the doctor stated, clearing his throat. He lingered by the door as it swung close behind him, flipping through the chart once again. "You're fine aside from the fractured rib or two, a few scrapes and bruises, but I'd like to keep you overnight for observation," he said, shrugging casually as he held the clipboard against him. "Especially after seeing the bike's condition."

"That won't be necessary-"

"She'll stay," you declared, interrupting her. You continued to stare at the doctor with a wide smile while she turned her head to look at you, eyebrow raised. "Thank you, doctor." You offered him your hand, which he shook briefly before leaving the room. You looked at Natasha, the smile still wide on your face. "This is your punishment."

She rolled her eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. "I would've preferred a different kind of punishment."

"Oh, I bet you would," you said, laughing. "You're not that lucky." She grinned, trying not to laugh to avoid the pain. "So, why'd you cancel your sessions today?"

She sighed, laying her head back. Her eyes fluttered close as if she were suddenly exhausted, her hand searching for yours in her moment of blindness. You didn't hesitate to grab onto her, feeling her relax under your touch. "I had some errands to run."

You tilted your head, confused. Errands? During training? The least she could've done was told you, you would've loved to go on an errand run with her. To get away from all the recruits and just take a moment between the two of you. No, something else was going on here. "You're a terrible liar," you declared and she laughed, but immediately regretted it as pain shot through her ribs.

"Don't make me laugh, Y/N," she pleaded, her eyes slowly opening to look at you.

"Keep your secrets," you stated, letting go of her hand. You smiled softly at her, genuinely relieved that she was actually okay. You couldn't care where she went or what she was doing, she's safe now. And that's all that mattered to you.

You had cancelled the remaining training sessions with John to stay by Natasha. It was the least you could do after making her stay in the hospital overnight. You didn't want to leave her to suffer alone, but you had eventually drifted off to sleep somewhere around midnight. Natasha watched you for a while, a small smile on her face as you laid in what seemed to be the most uncomfortable position in the hospital brand armchair, before she dozed off as well.

But she was stirred awake when the door clicked shut, a shadowed figure venturing into the room and she almost called out to you before she noticed that, in the sliver of light provided from the parking lot outside, you were still fast asleep on the armchair.

She watched as the new presence placed a blanket over you, causing you to move a little under the added weight before you settled back into your deep slumber. The person bent over, planting a light, soft kiss on your forehead and, in that moment, Natasha saw their face pass one of the rays of light and she was instantly on guard.

"I didn't know you knew your way around a motorcycle." Natasha's voice was firm, powerful, yet quiet as to not wake you.

She tensed at her sentence, slowly straightening her form. Her eyes didn't leave your sleeping body, but she did lean towards Natasha. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Natasha stared at Maria's silhouetted figure, eyebrows slightly pinched together. "I know what you're doing."

Finally, Maria looked away from you and towards the bed, her head moving slightly to reveal her blue eyes in a sliver of light. Natasha made eye contact with her. "What's that?"

She's really playing dumb. She could deny it all she wants, Natasha knows she sabotaged her motorcycle. She couldn't connect the pieces until now, seeing her care for you while you were asleep. She did her own inspection on her motorcycle yesterday, everything was intact. Not a screw out of place. But her brake piston suddenly decided to give in? That's sabotage.

But she didn't understand why Maria would do it. Now she does. Maria's trying to get rid of the competition, which is Natasha. She wasn't going down that easily, though.

"Stay away from Y/N." It was four words, each one filled with a different threat. Normally, Maria would've been obeying Natasha's threat without hesitation, but the things she feels just by thinking about you made her defiant.

Maria said nothing as she slunked away, leaving the hospital room like nothing had happened. Natasha knew she had to be on her guard now.

She just didn't think she'd have to watch your back, too.

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The agent you had been talking to separated from you, bidding a farewell as they walked into a room while you kept walking down the hall, now being able to focus more on your surroundings. And you saw the back of a certain little redhead that should be training right now.

She was talking to one of Clint's recruits, but the conversation seemed as if it was about to end by the way the recruit took a step back. You snuck up to her, the recruit turning on their heels as they said their thanks and parted ways. You were kinda annoyed with how she was supposed to be resting when she was standing right here, not in bed. You don't really understand why she'd lie to you. Lying usually means hiding secrets. Like what exactly she was doing yesterday to end up in that accident.

When you reached her, you placed your hands on her hips, feeling her tense underneath your touch for a slight moment before instantly relaxing. "I thought you were supposed to be in bed," you said softly, your chin resting against her shoulder as your lips brushed her ear. She turned around and your hands were instantly back to your sides.

Your stomach dropped to your feet when you made eye contact with Maria, your eyes studying her new short, curly haircut that she had dyed red, her black hair no more. You took a step back, your face flushed with embarrassment as you looked around, seeing if anybody saw this devastating moment.

"You… You got a haircut," you stammered.

Maria smiled, thinking about how cute you are when you get flustered. "Yeah," she said, nodding as she ran a hand through it. You swallowed your mouthful of saliva, your hands playing with themselves nervously. "I figured it was time for a change. The long black hair just wasn't doing it for me anymore."

You chewed on your lip, still trying to wrap your head around what the hell is happening here. "I'm so sorry," you finally said, realizing that she was waiting for an uncomfortable amount of time for you to reply. "You just… You looked like my girlfriend from behind." You couldn't even remember her name in this moment of humiliation. And you didn't even realize how fast Maria lost her smile when you said girlfriend. As if the word was toxic.

"Hey, I'm not the one apologizing this time." Maria laughed it off as you hid your face in your hands. She was so nonchalant about it while you were mentally scolding yourself. You felt like you cheated on Natasha, the guilt getting to your head a lot harder than it should. You didn't do anything. You didn't kiss her. You just placed your hands on her hips, maybe got a bit too close to her ear. That's it. "Y/N?"

You removed your hands from your face, cleared your throat, and maintained your posture. "I like your haircut," you commented. "Makes your eyes... pop." You sent her a smile, though she knew it didn't reach your eyes. "I have to go. John's waiting for me." You quickly scurried away, rubbing the back of your neck as you groaned.

You decided to hide in your room, too self-conscious to be out in the world right now. Lying in the middle of a dark room, door locked, you felt at peace with yourself. You don't know how long time has passed and you were pretty sure you dozed off because you were startled by the harsh tapping at your door. You ignored it, pulling a pillow over your head and pressing it into your face as the knocking got more persistent. Couldn't they take a hint?

"Y/N, open the door. I know you're in there." The sound of Natasha's voice should've soothed you, made you feel more relaxed, but it only stressed you out more. Does she know? Does she not know? You don't know which one is worse if you're going to be real. Deep down, you knew it wasn't as big of a deal as you're making it, but it felt so wrong.

There was a break in her knocking, silence for a moment. Long enough for you to believe that she had just given up and walked away, leaving you to wallow in your self-pity, but then you heard the door lock turn and the door was pushed open, closing a moment later. The pillow on your face was yanked off of you and you blinked, surprised.

She has a key. Of course, she has a key.

You felt the bed dip down behind you when she added her weight to it, her arm snaking itself around your waist and pulling you close to her. You didn't fight her as she rested her cheek on the top of your head, the arm that was resting around your waist moved up, her hand pressing against your chest, your heart beating steadily against her palm. You know she was ignoring her pain for you.

"Do you even know what time it is?"

"No."

You both were whispering as if you were scared to disturb the darkness engulfing you in comfort. This was nice. You had thought you couldn't face her, but her holding you so tightly in her arms, you felt right. You felt like everything was right in the world as if the whole Maria thing didn't happen.

"You've been in here for the whole day." Her voice was so… calming. It melted your worries away like a hot flame. You belonged here, at this moment, in her arms. Yours to love. "I was worried about you." She released a heavy, relieved sigh, her breath skinning across your cheek. Now that she knew you were safe and not off dying in a ditch somewhere, she could relax. "I haven't heard from you at all today. And when Nolan came to my room to tell me you missed training, I just…" She sighed once again, her mind rewinding that moment John found her, that feeling of fear and terror. She spent the rest of the day searching for you, getting out of bed, fighting against the pain of her fractured ribs so she could find you, so she could hold you, feel your heartbeat under her touch.

John could use a break, anyway. You've been training him as much as possible to win this competition, so he deserves to skip a training session or two.

"I'm fine," you assured her softly, letting out a deep breath. "Just… mortified."

She hummed thoughtfully, encouraging you to say more as she pressed you tighter against her, sucking in a deep breath as she closed her eyes.

"Remember that night at dinner, you said that you thought Maria has a crush on me?" You felt her tense around you, her eyes snapping open. She couldn't stop her mind from wandering, picturing Maria advancing on you, replacing that with the feeling of her knuckles connecting to the bitch's jaw with no remorse. It could happen during training, the "accidental" injury between her and Natasha's fist. Nobody would question it. Only her.

"Yes." It was one syllable, one word, said between clenched teeth, her jaw locked tight in frustration at the thought of Maria touching you.

"I'm starting to think it's you she's crushing on."

That took an unexpected turn. You instantly felt her body relax, her jaw unlocking itself. "Why do you say that?"

"Have you not seen her at all today?"

"Y/N, I've been in bed all day, too." She shook her head with a smile as you turned to lie on your back, Natasha propping her head up with her elbow so she could see your face, her other hand resting on your stomach as you played with her fingers.

"She got a haircut," you said, sighing. "Short. Red."

She furrowed her eyebrows, turning her head so she could watch you play with her hand. "Kinda like-"

"You." You nodded, moving to hide your face behind your hands, but she was quicker and managed to catch you by your fingers. "From the back, she looks just like you."

Realization dawned on her and she… laughed. Softly, not the "in your face" kinda laugh that would make you feel even more bad. "You thought she was me."

"It was humiliating, Nat," you stated. You relived the moment in your head again and you wanted to scream. "I just sort of… blacked out. One second, I'm standing in front of a new and improved Maria. Next, I'm hearing you knocking against my door." You stared ahead, eyes wide. "It's horrifying. It doesn't go with her skin tone at all."

Natasha chuckled, her head falling back into the pillow. "And here I thought something bad actually happened."

"Something bad did happen, Nat," you expressed. "I thought it was you, so I…" You explained what you did, cheeks red with embarrassment.

Natasha gasped, picking her head up again. "You didn't."

"I did." There was a moment of silence, Natasha letting you soak in your thoughts for a second before you smacked her shoulder. "I hate you."

"Babe, you're acting like it's the end of the world," she stated. "Did you sleep with her?"

"Wha- No! Of course not! Why would that even-"

"Then everything is fine," she assured you, laying back into the pillow. And then she chuckled as she said, "At least I know you won't cheat on me."

"I could cheat on you if I wanted to," you declared stubbornly, "I just don't want to."

"You're falling apart because you grabbed another girl's waist," Natasha said, laughing. "Just imagine what would happen to you if you actually did sleep with someone."

"Oh, my- I'd just have a full-on meltdown at that point." Your stomach twisted at even the thought of sleeping with someone that isn't Natasha. "It's all you. You're the only one I want, Romanoff."

She grinned. "Prove it."

You rolled your eyes, listening to her squeal as you rolled over on top of her, pinning her arms above her head by her wrists. Your legs tangled around hers, the blanket weaving around your ankles as you moved. She lightly tugged against your grip on her wrists as you used your free hand to smooth out the indent in between her eyebrows, your face close to hers. Your finger trailed down her face, rounding her nose and swiping across her bottom lip. When her face contorted in pain, you started to pull away, but she shook her head, desperate to keep you on her. To her, the pain was worth it. But you lifted your weight off of her a little bit, relieving her from some of the pain.

"I'll prove it," you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. Her heartbeat picked up speed underneath you, her head instinctively turning away from you to give you better access to her neck. She writhed underneath you when your lips connected to a spot on her neck, her hands pushing a bit harder against your constraint, desperate to touch you.

"Let me," she pleaded, her sentence fading into a moan as you dragged your lips lower. "Y/N. Please."

You couldn't help but laugh at her begging, your smile pressed against her skin. The second your grip loosened, her hands were immediately under your shirt, gasping at her cool fingers dancing along your back, sliding upwards and creating a trail of goosebumps behind her path.

"Stop teasing me," she whispered. "You've proven it."

You hummed against her neck for a moment before picking your head up, your nose rubbing against hers. She lifted her chin in an attempt to latch your lips onto hers, but your lips merely brushed against each other, leaving her whining underneath you.

"I am…" She made eye contact with you, her eyes begging for more of your taste, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips and you almost gave in. Almost. "...hungry."

She tried to hold onto you, but you managed to escape her and climb off the bed, laughing at her pleading groans. "I hate you so much right now."

You turned to look at her, seeing her tangled in the blankets, her hair tousled around her face, surrounding her in the perfect frame of red tangles. If she hadn't been so cocky, you would've finished what you started. And this picture of her right now would've ignited that burning desire deep down in your soul, but you made yourself walk backward, your eyes remaining on her vulnerable form as you blindly made your way to the door.

"The things I'd be doing to you right now," you told her, biting your bottom lip to prevent the smile from growing on your face. Your back bumped into the door, your hand finding the knob almost immediately. "You could be screaming my name right now."

"Y/N." She moaned your name, her hand reaching out to you, desperate for your hold. "Please."

You stepped forward, bringing the door with you as you opened it. "Maybe later." You sent her a wink before turning to leave, your heart dropping as you jumped back when you saw Maria on the other side, her hand up as she was about to knock. The gasp that left your throat was enough to make Natasha climb out of bed to join your side.

She saw it for herself, the new haircut Maria was flaunting matched that of her own. She didn't know how to handle this, the shock keeping her lips sealed as the two of you stared at her.

You were wrong. It went along well with her skin tone, but she didn't want to admit that. She knew why you said it.

"I was just… checking up on you." Maria stared between the two of you, marking the crazy hairstyle Natasha has going on, clearing her throat as she brought her arm back to her side. "We haven't bumped into each other today after this morning." She was clearly interrupting something.

"She's fine," Natasha said, finally able to find her voice while you, on the other hand, still couldn't. It was going to take a while to get used to the hairdo, knowing you're gonna have to pay close attention now that two distinct redheads are mucking about in the compound. You don't even know where to begin to comprehend how weird this could possibly be for Natasha.

Maria's eyes flickered to Natasha, blazing with annoyance. She was talking to you, not her. The look was subtle, hidden amongst a toothy grin and hopeful face.

You cleared your throat, finally snapping out of your daze. "I'm fine." You sent Maria a smile as you leaned against the door. "Thanks for checking up on me, Maria."

Her smile reached her eyes at your voice, her head tilting just slightly at your manners. You were oblivious to the tense stare Natasha was sending her; she wasn't, but she stood against it. She wasn't going to scare her away from you. "Anytime." She meant it when she said it. She'd drop anything and everything to run to you when you call. She turned to face Natasha, her eyes hardening to mirror the true redhead's glare. "I was wondering if we could postpone the training-"

"You, a rookie, are asking me to postpone your training?" Maria could see which way this was going to go. Natasha knows Maria's little secret, but what she doesn't know is the true depth of her feelings for you are. "Actually, I'm going to make it an hour earlier. I expect you to be on time." Natasha's arm extended in front of you, pushing you back slightly so she could shut the door on Maria.

"That was a bit harsh," you commented, watching Natasha run a hand through her tangled hair. You grinned, crossing your arms over your shoulder. "Are you trying to make me know that you're not returning her crush?"

Her hand froze in the middle of her hair, eyes zoning out for a moment. You don't realize Maria's affection and she's not sure if she should tell you or not. She's definitely not threatened by the likes of Maria, and if she was willing to go far enough to sabotage her motorcycle and to chop off her hair and dye it the same color as Natasha's, then her "crush" might not be just that. "I'd like to keep an eye on her," Natasha expressed. "I think you should steer clear from Maria for a bit, too. I'm worried."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Why are you worried? Maria is harmless."

Harmless for now. Training her to become more of a threat is what's worrying her. She's gonna have to file a transfer, get Maria out of here and away from you. She's already advanced as is, with a month and a half of training under her belt.

"Baby." Your voice pulled her out of her thoughts, blinking them away. You stepped up to you, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her close to you. "What's on your mind?" You pouted, the pout you always used to get information out of Natasha, the pout she always gave in to.

But she didn't want you to worry. Soon, Maria's just going to be a lost memory between the two of you once she gets that transfer filed. "Nothing," she said before planting a quick kiss on the tip of your nose. Your pout turned into a frown. You knew she was lying. "Let's go to bed."

"I wanna get some food first." You've been in bed all day, hiding from your humiliation. You sent her a warm smile, the tenseness in her eyes relaxing. "I'll be back." You caught her lips in a quick, soft kiss before breaking away from her, feeling a bit repetitive as you walked backward to the door. "Want something?" She crossed her arms over her chest as she shook her head, a small smile tugging her lips. She watched you leave the room.

There weren't a lot of people in the compound at this time, a few stragglers here and there, but nothing like it is during the day. It was quiet, peaceful, and the kitchen was practically empty aside from an agent or two enjoying a break.

You settled on something quick, feeling too lazy to cook actual food. You just wanted to eat and get back to Natasha as fast as possible, knowing she was waiting with an empty spot next to her just for you. You managed to get a few bites in before the chair next to you was pulled away from the table, having to do a double-take to make sure it was Maria and not Natasha.

You remembered Natasha's words and your first instinct upon seeing her sit down next to you was to run, but… you were frozen. You couldn't move.

"Hey," she said softly, a small smile lifting the corner of her lips. "Are you really okay?"

No. "Yes." How did she know where to find you?

She squinted her eyes, skeptical of your answer. There was zero thinking in the response. "Are you sure? If Agent Romanoff is hurting you-"

"Definitely not," you stated. You couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Natasha ever hurting you, shaking your head as you turned away from Maria and back to your food. "Nat would never hurt me. We’re fine.”

She released a long sigh, making you turn your head to look back at her. "I was in a relationship like that, once," she admitted, looking away from you. She rubbed her arms, shy, as a small smile lifted her lips. "We were together for so long and it was perfect. I was so in love that I didn't realize what she was doing to me. She started with little white lies, and then she told me to stay away from certain people, hiding things." And then she sighed, the reminiscing smile fading away from her face. “It wasn’t until I found out she was cheating on me that I had a wake-up call.”

You looked away again, your teeth clenching. Natasha loved you, she would never do that to you… right? "I'm sorry you had to go through that," you expressed, sending her a smile, "but this is not my relationship. We've been together for years and it's been perfect."

She pursed her lips together for a moment. "All good things come to an end," is the only thing she said. She patted you on the shoulder as she stood up, leaving you alone with your food… and thoughts.

She held a smile on her face as she walked away.

You and Natasha were fine. You couldn’t let Maria get into your head like that, turning away from her retreating form to go back to your food. You stared at the plate in front of you, eyebrows furrowed deeply in thought. Natasha wouldn’t do those things, she loved you… right?

You had suddenly lost your appetite, cleaning up your food before leaving the kitchen. You didn’t go back to the bedroom, to Natasha. Instead, you made your way to the training room and positioned yourself in front of a punching bag, wrapping tape around your fingers. You needed to think, and punching helped push your thoughts down the hill to get them rolling.

So what if she doesn’t tell you her thoughts all the time? She was worried about Maria, but why? You saw no real threat in the recruit. Really, you should be the one to be worried about Maria. Her crush on Natasha has managed to evolve into something creepy, like getting the same exact haircut. You should be concerned for Natasha’s safety, standing by her side in case Maria’s obsession takes a turn for the worse. Everything in you wanted to protect her, to hold onto her defensively. You knew Natasha could handle herself, but at the moment, it didn’t matter.

You just wanted her to be safe.

You threw a frustrated punch into the punching bag, huffing in annoyance when it ripped open underneath your fist, the pressure of the sand tearing the hole to make it bigger. You were forced to take a step back as the sand started pouring out, making a pile on the floor beneath the hanging bag.

“You must have some secret super strength or something you never told me about.” You flinched at the voice, picking your head up to see Clint walking into the room. You sighed, a bit relieved that it wasn’t a redhead, either one of them. “How come you never told me?”

“It’s an old bag,” you expressed, eyebrows furrowed in slight anger as you looked back at the hole. “It was going to give in eventually.” It just so happened to give in on your most frustrating punch.

He helped you unhook the bag from the ceiling, laying it flat so it would stop spilling its guts everywhere. You scratched the top of your head, staring at the big pile of sand in the middle of the training room. You chewed the inside of your cheek, lost in thought. So lost in thought that you hadn’t even processed that Clint was talking until he snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“What?” You blinked, looking at him.

He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you okay?”

“Why is everybody asking me that?” You huffed in annoyance, harshly unwrapping the tape from your knuckles. You avoided eye contact with him, focused on the tape. “I’m fine.”

He sighed, watching as you started having trouble removing the tape from your knuckles, the strip getting tangled in God knows what, and you threw your hands in the air. You give up, your eyes burning with tears from how agitated you were with this whole thing. Clint saw this, taking a step forward and gently grabbing onto your hand.

You watched as he removed the tape from your knuckles for you, sniffling loudly. The quiet between the two of you was welcoming, needed. You just wanted the comfort of someone who’s not judging you, who’s not questioning everything you do. He crumpled up the tape between his hands when he got it all off of you, sending you a kind smile when you looked up at him.

“If I didn’t know any better, then I’d say that you’re definitely not fine,” he stated as a matter of factly. You glared at him through your unshed tears, eyes and cheeks red. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, chewing the inside of your cheek once again. Maria’s words just echoed in your head and you can’t believe you were letting her play with your emotions like this. “It’s just something Maria said,” you admitted, placing a hand on your forehead and closing your eyes. You just wanted to hide in your bed again.

“What’d she say?”

You scratched the back of your head as your eyes slowly opened, releasing a hefty sigh. “She suggested that… Nat was cheating.”

You saw the second Clint lost his casual mask, anger crossing his features within the blink of an eye. His eyes narrowed, fire igniting behind his pupils at your words. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry before, and you’ve seen situations where he was mad. “She said that?”

“Suggested.”

“And you believe her?”

“Of course not!” You were so annoyed with yourself when you even believed it for a second. The signs, according to Maria, were all there. The small lies, the controlling. Though it wasn’t as much as she claimed it to be. It was one little lie, one moment of controlling, one day of hiding, but there’s always escalation. Once it starts, you don’t think it’ll ever end. “It’s just the thought. The possibility.”

Clint was still fuming, his arms crossed over his chest as he harshly squished the wad of tape in his hand. It didn’t matter what anybody said, Clint knows Natasha isn’t a cheater. “Maria has an... infatuation with you.”

“That’s what Nat was saying,” you said, “but it’s painstakingly obvious that Maria likes Nat.” You could even say love if you wanted, but you didn’t. Nat wasn’t Maria’s to love, she was yours.

“Seriously?” The anger in Clint’s eyes seemed to have evaporated at your obliviousness, furrowing your eyebrows together when a grin showed up on his face. He was amused. “Y/N, she did her hair to look precisely like Nat.”

“Exactly.”

“Your girlfriend.”

“My- Oh.” Your eyebrows shot up in shock. Why hasn’t that even crossed your mind? Maria dyed and cut her hair to mirror Natasha’s for you, not for her. She thinks you have a thing for redheads when, in reality, you just have a thing for Natasha. Red colored your cheeks, clearing your throat from the embarrassment that you felt. Now that you think about it, it would’ve been a bit weird for Natasha to date someone that looks like her. Talk about an ego.

Clint couldn’t help but laugh at this serious situation, seeing the realization slowly cross your features in real-time. “How have you not realized the love that girl has for you?”

You already answered this kind of question when Natasha asked it a month ago, and you gave Clint the same answer you had given her. You were way too focused on Natasha to notice anybody else. Maria was just a recruit to you, not even a competition to Natasha. “It doesn’t matter how Maria feels about me, Clint. I will choose Natasha, every single time.”

He patted you on the shoulder, clearly glad to hear you say that. “So stop doubting her,” he declared. “She’s not cheating on you. She would never cheat on you, Y/N, because she loves you too much to do that. And don’t let Hopkins get in your head.”

“You’re right.” You groaned, rubbing your face. You really needed that vacation Natasha’s mentioning. At this point, you don’t even care if she wins and picks the location. You wanted to get out of here for a bit, not even think about anything SHIELD related.

“Good.” He nodded, uncrossing his arms and tossing the wad of tape in the air, but you managed to snatch it before it fell back into his hand. He rolled his eyes as you started walking away, tossing the tape into the nearest trash before leaving the training room.

You're gonna have to apologize to maintenance about the pile of sand when you see them.

“How’s your training going?” you questioned as he walked alongside you in the halls.

He sighed. “Not good,” he confessed. “My recruits don’t seem to be into it anymore. They’re not even trying.” You had to bite back a smile, crossing your arms over your chest as you wandered around the compound with Clint by your side. Of course they were no longer trying. You had informed them that the top agent in their class would be nominated to be the director’s assistant, how it happened every few years and this was one of those years.

At first mention, it sounds like a once in a lifetime opportunity, but the more you talked about assisting Nick Fury, the more it seemed like a chore. It was a made up position, obviously, so of course you had to go all out on it. The pay was absolutely horrible, they would barely get any time out in the field, and Nick Fury himself was just an absolute asshole to his assistant, not being able to keep one for more than a year. After mentioning little fake facts, you saw the look on their faces.

They didn’t want that job. The only thing that’s worse than having just one recruit is having two that don’t try.

“Looks like you’re going to be the loser this year, then,” you stated, clapping him on the back with a laugh. “Big, juicy steak with my name on it, just waiting to be paid by Clint Barton.”

“We’ll see in a month, Y/N,” he promised. “I’m going to whip these recruits into shape, even if it kills me.”

“Even if it gets you an HR visit?”

“Even then!” he confirmed and you laughed again. “I’m not a sore loser. I’m not rubbing the fact that you only have one recruit in your face.”

“Nat said something, huh."

“Yep," he confessed, laughing.

You grinned. Natasha must have told him to cool it on the teasing. You didn’t mind when he did it, but you thought it was even funnier when Natasha got on his case about it. Watching the “big man” cripple in fear underneath a petite redhead was the best thing you could ever see.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

He rolled his eyes, slightly pushing you away from him. “Your grin says otherwise,” he countered and you laughed. “I’m going to bed.” Shaking his head, he separated from you, your laughter chasing him as he walked away.

You made your way to your own bedroom, excited to join Natasha in bed now. The door to your room came into view, your heart picking up speed at the thought of her, but you skidded to a halt when you heard the faint noise of someone crying behind a partly closed door, the maintenance closet. Everything in you told you to just ignore it, to walk away, but there was a small voice in the back of your head that told you to comfort whoever it was that was crying. The part in your brain that had the moral compass, telling you that the right thing to do in this situation is to check up on the person behind the door. And, so, you did.

You pushed the door open slowly, just enough to get into the room, the person crying in the dim light immediately halting their sobs, sniffling. You peeked around the corner and saw Maria sitting on an upside down bucket, sighing as you realized that you should’ve just kept on walking and now it was just too late to turn back now. You told yourself that Clint’s words were just not the truth, that Maria didn’t have any feelings for you. It made it easier as you entered the closet, staying a few feet away from her just in case.

“Looks like it’s my turn to ask, but are you okay?” You crossed your arms over your chest loosely, preparing to use them if need be.

Maria laughed humorlessly at your pathetic joke, nodding her head and using the back of her hand to wipe off a side of her face, though it wasn’t worth it. More tears just recovered it. “I’ll be fine.”

You sighed, taking a tentative step forward. “What happened?”

“John... broke up with me.” That’s right, she’s dating John! There was no way she’ll have feelings for other people if she’s opening herself up to dating, right? You had completely forgotten about their relationship, seeing them together for the first time a month ago in that restaurant and just not thinking about it ever again. It didn’t seem like they were dating, but you understood if they wanted to keep it on the down low. Especially since they’re both recruits.

You walked the rest of the way into the closet, kneeling down in front of her. You weren’t very good at the consoling part. It was easier with Natasha because if she was upset, all you had to do was just hold her and she was okay afterward, but you didn’t want to hold Maria. Even if she does look like Natasha.

“Hey, it’s not the end of the world,” you assured her. “Sure, it feels like it now, but that feeling doesn’t last forever. Trust me, Maria. I’ve gone through my share of breakups.” You rested a hand on her shoulder, not even thinking about the contact, not even thinking about how her jaw clenched and her eyes fluttering close underneath your touch. “He’s an idiot, anyway. You’re a great, kind person, Maria, and he’s stupid for throwing that away.”

Her eyes opened and she looked at you, tears no longer coated her eyes. A smile lifted her lips and the silence between you started to get awkward, especially since your hand was still on her shoulder. You wanted to break it, either the contact or the silence, but when you tried to pull your hand away from her, she quickly caught your wrist. Her grip was tight, refusing to let go even if you tried to lightly tug against her.

“Maria-”

“I need comfort.” You felt her pull your wrist to her, making you lose balance and fall to your knees, ultimately getting closer to her. She didn’t waste a moment, her lips finding yours the second your knees touched the floor, the second you were close to her. The kiss was rough, harsh, everything you didn’t want in a kiss. Her other hand wrapped around the back of your neck in a tight grip, pulling you into her and preventing you from pushing her away. You felt her teeth against your lips, desperately trying to get away from her. And thank God for breathing because the instant she needed to breathe, the instant she pulled herself back just a little bit to catch her breath, you managed to use your free hand to swipe up in between your faces, knocking her arm off of your neck.

You were on your feet immediately, staggering back to get as far away from her as possible. You wondered just how far she would have gone if you hadn’t managed to escape her grasp, the look of a broken hearted girl no longer on her face. She was angry, annoyed that you got away. Your hand found the door, pulling it open the rest of the way, letting the light from the hall flood the room in a brighter color.

She stood up, stepping towards you. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” she begged. “I was… just so vulnerable.” That wasn’t vulnerability. That was… something else. “Y/N, please.”

You finally got your common sense back and left the room, feeling her watch you run away. She gritted her teeth and kicked the bucket she was sitting on, wiping off the tears from her face. She had always been able to make herself cry on command, it wasn’t hard and it always works like a charm. She wasn’t dating John. And as long as you don’t bring it up, you won’t know that.

She knew you were running to Natasha and that only made her even more pissed off. She was mad at herself, too. She rushed into it too quickly, not giving you the time to process your feelings for her. She was scaring you off and she needed to pull back. But the thing is, she didn’t want to. She wanted you. She needed you. And that kiss? Oh, that was her breaking point. She had both boyfriends and girlfriends throughout her life and not a single one of them made her feel like that while kissing. She was going to get you.

And she’ll stop at nothing to get her way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⧗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Natasha opened her eyes, she slowly rolled over, grunting in pain, to see you lying on your back next to her, your eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. If it wasn’t for your chest subtly rising and falling, she would’ve thought you were dead. She placed a hand on your shoulder, but immediately pulled it away when you flinched at the feeling, gasping as if you haven’t been breathing the whole time.

She saw a tear slowly crawl down your cheek and she was instantly on high alert, propping her head up with her elbow. Her eyebrows pinched together in anger, her jaw tightening as she stared at you, another tear following the trail the first one left.

“What happened, baby?” She tried to keep her voice even and calm, but there was a touch of toxicity in her tone. She couldn’t help it. Just the thought of somebody potentially hurting you to the point where you were just lying there like a statue… she wanted to kill them.

“I’m so sorry.” Your voice was quiet, cracking. Another tear slid down your face and she fought the instinct to swipe it away. “I… I…” You finally moved a limb, your hand covering your eyes as a sob escaped the back of your throat.

Natasha was scared to touch you. She didn’t want to scare you at the same time she wanted to hold you, to wrap you in her arms as tight as she possibly can and never let go. But her limbs were just as frozen as yours, anger making her rigid. Your hand still covered your eyes, refusing to let anymore tears be seen as your fingers soaked them up. She stayed quiet, letting you process.

“I’m so naïve,” you continued, your hand falling from your face. She saw you now, your red eyes, your red cheeks, your red nose. You wanted to cry so hard, but you fought against that feeling for now. “I should’ve listened to you and Clint. I should’ve… I should’ve walked away. She...” Your sentence cut off in a sob.

“What did she do?” Natasha instantly knew who you were talking about, her jaw clenching so tight that she could crack a walnut between her teeth. Her free hand balled into a fist, her nails digging into her palm. You weren't looking at her to see the anger and she was thankful for that.

In between your sobbing and tears, you told her what had happened in that maintenance closet with Maria, even the moment in the kitchen, Natasha listening closely. Her eyes narrowed as your story was coming to an end, her blood boiling with pure rage, but the feeling quickly melted away when you covered your face with both of your hands, crying into your palms. As much as she wanted to go seek Maria and show her exactly what the consequences of doing this to you were, she wanted to console you even more.

She gently placed a hand on one of your elbows. The second she touched you, you rolled over into her arms, your hands leaving your face as you cried into her. She held onto you tightly, rubbing your back as you half sobbed, half apologized.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't feel angry with you in her arms. She wanted to imagine what she was going to do to Maria, but she couldn't. She could only think of you, holding onto her so tightly as if you were afraid to let go.

She planted her lips on the top of your head and stayed there, shushing you soothingly as you continued to cry.

It didn't take long for you to fall asleep. Your sleeping schedule was all wrong now that you had slept the day away yesterday. And you would've stayed asleep, too, but when you reached for Natasha, your hand caught the mattress and not her body, pulling you out of your slumber. It was early, she must be trying to train. You wondered if it would go well with her injury. She doesn't necessarily need to be physical to train, but it's easier.

Your eyes opened, brain foggy. You instinctively wiped your face, feeling the dried tear stains and you were reminded of what had happened. Guilt ate at you as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with your palms as you sucked in a shaky breath. The urge to stay in bed all day again was strong, you even went as far as to pull the covers over your head.

A groan came from underneath the covers and you threw them off your head, looking over at the empty spot and furrowing your eyebrows when you saw that Natasha's phone still sat on the nightstand. She usually takes her phone with her, it's a part of the job. You sucked on your bottom lip for a moment before climbing out of the bed with another groan, getting to your feet and putting on some fresh clothes before leaving the room.

You checked the kitchen when you didn't find her in the training room, spotting one of her recruits, Stephen Griggs, sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal. You walked up to him and he greeted you with a smile, a mouthful of cereal behind it. Milk dribbled down his chin as he quickly swallowed the cereal to greet you with a "good morning", wiping the milk off of his chin.

"Aren't you supposed to be training?"

He shrugged. "Agent Romanoff never showed up," he stated. "I just figured she was still training Hopkins."

You couldn't help but wince at the name, your posture straightening defensively. "They're not in the training room."

"No, they wouldn't be," he assured. "Romanoff thought it'd be better to train outside today because of the weather. They should be-"

"I know. Thanks." You waved him off as you walked away.

You knew Natasha was professional enough not to let what happened last night affect training Maria. The quicker she gets Maria out of the training program, the sooner neither of you have to see her ever again.

After checking outside to see that she wasn't out there, you were starting to get a bit worried. You soon found yourself in front of Maria's door, a shared room with one of Clint's recruits, who was no doubtedly training right now. And if Natasha wasn't outside or in the training room with Maria, then Maria had to be in here.

Hesitantly, you knocked on the door. As much as you didn't want to, you had to face Maria to question her about Natasha. You had to put the humiliation on hold for a moment to find out where your girlfriend was… if the door ever opened, which it didn't. You turned away to leave, but froze when you heard a floorboard creak from behind the closed door. You could be hearing things, desperation can lead to you hearing what you want to hear, so you tried to open the door.

It was locked, but that didn't stop you from knocking on it again.

"Maria?" You leaned against the door, raising your voice so that she would hear you no matter where she was in the room. You cleared your throat, glancing over your shoulder. "Maria, I'm just… I'm trying to find Nat. Have you seen her?"

Silence. Maybe you were just hearing things, sighing after a moment before ultimately leaving.

You made it back to your room, having to get dressed and ready for John's next training session despite Natasha being the only thing on your mind. You weren't going to be a very good teacher today, but John has been handling himself well. The only thing he needs help with is the same exact thing you had trouble with when you were training - the shooting range. Other than that, he was perfect.

He actually has a chance at placing second.

You were pulling your shoes on when Natasha's phone released a vibration, the nightstand enhancing the sound. You ignored it at first, not giving it a second thought. You tied your shoes and stood up, the phone flickering on a moment later with another text.

You caught a glimpse of it, the word baby catching your interest. You were just going to ignore it again, but now you were just curious.

You swiped the phone off the nightstand, unplugging it from the charger and unlocking her phone - your birthday was her passcode, isn't that adorable? - to look at the texts.

Baby, I'm pretty sure I left my bra in your room. That text alone should've ripped your heart to pieces, but the messages kept coming, new, sent moments ago.

Nat, are you there?

I'll stop by in a moment to get my bra. We don't need Y/N finding out.

Are we still on for tonight? I can do that new thing that Y/N doesn't want. You know, the position where you- You stopped reading, not finishing the sentence.

The phone fell from your hand and landed on the ground with a thud as you raced to the bathroom, dropping to your knees in front of the toilet to empty out whatever is in your stomach.

The more you pictured Natasha in bed with someone else, the more you puked. "All good things come to an end," thought in Maria's condescending, bone-chilling voice. You gagged into the toilet, but there was nothing left in your stomach. You had emptied it, just like Natasha has emptied your heart.

You stood to your feet and washed your mouth out with water from the sink, tears blurring your vision for a brief moment before using the stream of water to rinse your face off. You felt as if you needed to vomit again, the urge to return to the toilet strong, but you walked away. You left the bathroom, your room, and made your way to Natasha's. You had to see for yourself.

The door was unlocked, which was a good thing for you considering you had left your copy of the key back in your room and you didn't feel like doubling back. You entered the room, still a bit hopeful that all of this was some sort of sick joke. You dug through her room, and she made it easy with how she always kept it clean. A highly trained assassin never leaves behind a mess, or a bra you found stuffed underneath the bed.

Not one of Natasha's.

Not one of yours.

You didn't touch the mysterious bra, turning away from it to try and get the image of it out of your memory, but it was too late. It was permanently engraved, just like picturing Natasha with someone else in this exact bed.

"She would never cheat on you, Y/N, because she loves you too much to do that." Okay, Clint, whatever you say.

You practically ran out of the room, closing the door behind you and leaning against it to regain your posture. This was how your "perfect" four year relationship was going to end? By catching her going behind your back? And don't even have an idea as to where she is to confront her about it! She's probably off with her side whore right now!

You felt sick again, your stomach twisting in a bunch of different ways. You bent over in an attempt to get your stomach to settle before you pissed off maintenance even more by throwing up in the middle of the hallway, your hands using your knees as support.

"Y/N?"

You shot up, your back a rigid pole as you looked towards the source of your name, relief flooding through you when you watched John stroll up to you. You cleared your throat, instinctively wiping your face only to realize that you had tears running down your cheeks.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you said. You sucked in a deep breath and stepped away from Natasha's room. "What's up?"

"Training started half an hour ago." Geez, you must seem like a really crappy teacher at this point, constantly missing sessions with your only recruit. "But it seems like you're not doing okay-"

"I said I'm fine," you stated, annoyed. "Let's hit the shooting range." You allowed him to take the lead, following him outside in silence. He didn't dare speak, accepting the gun from your hand when you pulled it out of the locker. "If you shoot a civilian, restart." He nodded as he started shooting the gun.

You watched him, trying your damned hardest not to think about Natasha or the mystery woman she's cheating on you with, but it was so hard not to let your mind wander back in that general direction. Your heart hurt, along with other parts of your body. All this time and effort in the last four years for one relationship, down the drain. You thought she was the one you were going to spend forever with. Now she's the one to give you trust issues.

John finished the shooting range on his second try flawlessly, not a single civilian hit. He reloaded the gun as you told him to do it again. Each gunshot echoed in your head, dulling your senses. You wanted to scream, to cry. You wanted to just… be in Natasha's arms.

What do you do when the person you want comfort from the most is the one who caused your pain?

"Again," you commanded John when he looked at you for guidance, his third time just as perfect as the second. You seemed to be in a vicious cycle with John right now, telling him to do it over and over again as if the results were going to change, as if the last ten times in a row he's done it 100% were just flukes, just lies. He had run out of bullets an hour later, his hands sore and calloused from shooting for sixty minutes straight.

He looked at you, his eyes wide with fear as you stared at the gun, it's empty clips resting to the side, stance tense and muscles locked. He cleared his throat, glancing over his shoulder, before stepping forward. "Y/N?"

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the bare gun to look at him. You breathed out, your eyes fluttering close to prevent the tears you feel threatening to escape as you sucked in a deep breath. "You're dismissed, John," you said as you breathed out again, listening to John's fading footsteps.

You opened your eyes and found that you were alone. You weren't going to cry. You told yourself you weren't going to cry for a cheater. So, you gathered the vacant gun and moved to the locker, taking out a box of bullets.

You heard someone approach you from behind, but you continued filling the clips for the gun, for the next users.

"How long have you been out here for?" It was Clint. Your jaw clenched as you loaded a full clip into the locker before taking the next empty one.

"An hour." Your answer was curt, hoping he'd take the hint and leave you alone, but he walked closer to you and knew he wasn't getting the clue. Or he was just ignoring it. Either way, it was clear that he wasn't leaving you alone just yet.

"You're not okay." You only managed to load one bullet into the next clip before you slammed it down against the locker at his words, your eyes squeezing shut. Your jaw tightened. "What is it?"

"You lied to me." Your eyes flew open and you turned to look at him. He released a soft breath when he saw your face, your eyes just wanting to let the tears out. "You lied!"

"Y/N, what-"

"You said…" You ran a hand over the top of your head, grabbing onto the back of your neck. You couldn't get the words out, knowing you'll just break if you say them. But the confused, concerned look on Clint right now made you say, "You said that she would never cheat on me, Clint. You said because she loves me too much to do that!" You were right, you broke. You fell to your knees, Clint immediately crouched down, his hand resting on your shoulder in an attempt to console you.

"It's not a lie, Y/N," he said.

You shook your head, looking up at him. "She's cheating on me, Clint! I saw the- the texts! The evi- evidence!" You were crying so bad, you were hiccupping. You moved to sit on your butt, bringing your knees to your chest as his hand slid off your shoulder.

"No, that doesn't make sense," he argued. He cleared his throat, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He moved to be in front of you, resting his arms against his knees. "Nat wouldn't do that, Y/N."

"There's hard evidence, Clint!" You shoved him away, desperate to have space so you could just breathe. He sat down a few feet away from you, holding his arms around his knees and watched you. You were quiet for a long while, your eyes staring at an empty spot in the grass.

He waited patiently, letting you work through your thoughts, hoping you'd see that she would never do this to you. The longer you sat in silence, the more calmed you became. Your sobbing stopped and your hiccups stilled. He sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly, feeling pain for you.

"I… don't know how long it's been going on." When you spoke, your voice was soft. He wanted to comfort you, but he didn't know how. He stayed his distance either way. "I don't even know where she is to… confront her about it."

The last time Clint saw her was sometime yesterday, but only because she was searching for you. He wouldn't be able to help you find her. He has to start training soon, and he wouldn't even know where to begin. If Natasha is nowhere to be found, is it a possibility that you're right? Clint still can't find it within himself to believe that.

"I need… a drink." You climbed to your feet, Clint following your lead

"Y/N-"

"Clint, don't." He sighed as you marched past him, placing his hands on his hips as he watched you leave over his shoulder. He'll let you drink, let you numb your thoughts to stop thinking about this situation for a moment, but after… he's going to make you talk about it.

Your face was clean by the time you walked into the living area, immediately making your way to the bar and snagging the closest bottle of alcohol you could reach. Your arms snaked over the bar, digging underneath and grabbing the first glass your fingers touched. You didn't even finish pouring the drink by the time you were swallowing the liquid. Whiskey, what a way to start off.

You were semi aware of someone sliding into the chair next to you, but you had already taken your fifth shot by then and weren't looking too well. You turned your whole body to see who joined you, your heart freezing when you made eye contact with Natasha. "Oh, look," you stated, "the cheater returns."

"Y/N." Even in your drunken state, that voice didn't belong to Natasha. "Maybe you should slow down."

"Maybe you should just leave me alone, Hopkins." You waved her off as you turned back to your drink, refilling the cup and swallowing it within five seconds. "I'm superior. You don't get to tell me what to do, recruit."

She sighed. She wanted you to stop, but she wasn't doing anything to prevent you from continuing hiding your feelings in that bottle of whiskey. If you weren't drunk, you would've questioned that. But you were, so you didn't even acknowledge that.

"My life is ruined," you continued, filling up your cup once more. You brought the glass to your lips, breathing in the amber liquid swirling around the glass. "The love of my life, Natasha Romanoff, has been cheating on me… for god knows how long." You swallowed the liquid, sucking your teeth as it burned its way down your throat. You breathed out, your shoulders slumping. "How can I want so desperately for her to wrap me up in her arms when she didn't even hesitate to rip my heart out and step on it?" As if your heart was a lit cigarette being squashed underneath a shoe.

Maria sighed, leaning forward. "Hey," she said, gaining your attention, "it's not the end of the world." You rolled your eyes, looking away from her to pour yourself another shot. "I know it feels like that now, but that feeling doesn't last."

You swallowed another shot, slamming the glass into the table and moving to pour one more, but Maria finally decided to intervene. She grabbed the whiskey bottle from you, sliding it away and out of your reach. You leaned forward, arm stretched, and your body rubbed against hers. In the feeling of contact, Maria froze for a moment, feeling that warmth spread through her at your touch. And then she came back to her senses.

If you weren't drunk, you would've seen her add something to the bottle. If you weren't desperately trying to drown your feelings in the dark golden liquid, you would've noticed how quickly she gave in to giving you the bottle back. If you weren't absolutely heart broken, you wouldn't have just taken a shot straight from the bottle.

It didn't take long for whatever drug she used to kick in. The last thing you saw before you passed out was Maria's smiling face.

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Maybe it was the fact that you couldn't move your hands, or the fact that your nose was being filled with an unfamiliar smell. It didn't matter. Either way, you woke up to unknown surroundings.

It seemed to have been a bedroom in an old apartment building. The floral wallpaper was peeling off in some parts, revealing the nasty green sitting underneath. There was a door to the left of you and a wooden bi-fold door to the right, a closet. At least the floor was a bit clean, save for… your clothes scattered on the floor, the ones you were wearing last night. Your stomach twisted as you looked down, slightly relieved that you were only wearing a set of pajamas (that weren't yours) but still freaked out at the fact that someone changed you while you were sleeping.

You looked up to see your hands tied to the iron headboard behind you, the knots tight enough to leave burns along your wrist. The room was lit up by the window, no blinds to prevent the room from being in the dark. You opened your mouth to call out for someone, but the door swung open and a smiling Maria entered the room. Her red hair is always going to throw you off, despite the multiple times you said it'll be okay.

"Maria?" You furrowed your eyebrows, more confused now. "What's going on? Did we…" You didn't feel as if you did, but you just wanted to be sure.

"No," she quickly assured, bringing a glass of water to you. "I love you, Y/N, so I won't do anything to hurt you majorly." She sat down next to you on the bed, moving the glass to your lips. "Drink," she ordered before tipping the cup, forcing you to take a sip. The flavor of the water was not right, the metallic taste left in your tongue after you swallowed it made you cough.

She offered you a big, kind smile as she placed the glass onto the nightstand. It was as if she was doing nothing wrong, like keeping you tied to a bed in the middle of some room was just another day of the week. Terror is the only thing preventing you from screaming. She had the upper hand here and you didn't know what she'd do with it if you misbehaved.

You watched as she placed the glass onto the nightstand and turned back to look at you, her fingers delicately swiping your forehead and it took every power within you not to pull away from her.

"What are you doing?" you asked gently, watching as her lips were pursed together in thought, a soft humming coming from the back of her throat. Her eyes were kind, like she was true to her word and she wouldn't do anything to hurt you, yet you were scared. "Why am I-"

"Shh," she whispered, moving her hand down your face to place a finger against your lips. You were instantly quiet, trying not to let the fear you're feeling show on your face. "I'm going to make you forget." Forget? Forget what?

But you didn't ask. Even when she removed her finger from your lips, standing up off the bed and making her way towards the closet door. She pulled open the bi-fold, blindly reaching in there and your face contorted to pure horror when she pulled Natasha out.

She was still in the same clothes she wore last night, her black, thin strapped tank top and her black shorts. Sweat covered her face, telling you she must've been in that small, hot room for a while. She was silenced by a rag cutting into her mouth, her hands tied behind her back, and blood stained her clothes. You tugged against your restraints as Maria forced Natasha onto her knees, her head barely able to stay upright. Your instinct to make sure Natasha's okay was strong.

"What did you do?"

"What did I do?" Maria rolled her eyes, a daze Natasha obedient at her feet. "I warned you, Y/N. I warned you, but you didn't believe me! And now you're heartbroken because this bitch cheated on you!"

You stared, wide eyed, at Natasha. She seemed so exhausted, like she had just given up. And it killed you to see that. "It's fine," you quickly assured. "I forgive you, Nat. I still love you."

You flinched when Maria banged a fist against the wall, your eyes flashing to her to see the anger on her face. "That's not why we're here, Y/N," she declared. She was struggling to keep her voice even, calm. She clearly didn't want to scare you but it wasn't working.

"It'll always be Nat," you stated and immediately regretted saying it.

Maria released her hold on the weak Natasha, whipping the back of her hand across your face and you screamed as she fell over, limp. Maria wiped her mouth with the same hand she used to smack Natasha as she stepped towards you. "It's time for you to move on, Y/N." She held her arms out, smiling widely at you, a tense smile. "I have done everything to be the one you need. I will show you the love that she could never show you, the loyalty that she doesn't have! You're mine to love!"

You gripped onto the iron bars of the headboard to prevent the ropes from destroying the skin around your wrists even more, one of your hands pulling away when you felt a sharp pain jolt through your nerves. It seemed like one of the iron bars was deformed, split in the back to create a knife-like edge and an idea started forming in the back of your mind.

Maria sighed, clearly irritated with your silence. "You're going to feel the same," Maria promised. "It's her you want, isn't it?" She scoffed pathetically as she forced Natasha back onto her knees, drawing out a knife from her back. She gripped Natasha's hair roughly, pulling back to make her look up as she placed the tip of the blade against Natasha's jaw, a dribble of blood running down where the knife was digging into. "Why did you even think you love her? Is it her looks? I took her hair, I can take her face."

"No, wait!" Maria froze at your words, her head snapping towards you. Natasha made eye contact with you as you sucked in a shaky breath and released it. "You're right, Maria. I… I love you."

"You're lying," she sneered.

You quickly shook your head. "No, no. I'm not." You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, nervous. If you got this wrong, there's no telling what she'd do. "Ever since… Ever since I laid eyes on you on your very first day, in the lobby, I was in love with you. But I was a fool because I thought I was in love with Nat, so I didn't act on the feelings."

Maria released Natasha, the blade withdrawing from her face and you felt relieved. She gripped the knife tightly in her hand as she looked at you, pondering your words. The only thing she wanted was to believe them. She knew the feelings were there, that you loved her as much as she loved you, she just had to force them out of you.

"But there's no reason for you to hurt Nat," you continued, her eyes narrowing at your new words. You licked your lips. "Nobody deserves to die, Maria. You and I, we could just leave her here. We can walk out those doors together and never look back."

"Say it," Maria demanded, pointing the tip of the blade at Natasha again. "I want to hear you say it to her."

You looked at Natasha, your face stoic. "I don't love you, Nat." It pained you to say it, your stomach twisting at the look in her eye. You cleared your throat, and said it again. "I never loved you. I… I love Maria."

Maria breathed out in relief, satisfied that everything was coming together as planned. She should've figured that you wouldn't want her to kill Natasha despite what she has done because of your big heart. She tucked her knife away, Natasha's posture relaxing a bit next to her. She was happy, excited to have your love. The thing she had spent the last two months yearning. She sighed, heavenly, as she clasped her hands together.

"Where do you want to go?" she questioned. "We have the entire world at our fingertips, baby."

She crossed the room and lay down next to you on the bed, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips, one you had to make yourself to kiss back. It was just like the one in the maintenance closet, rough, forced. It wasn't intimate, but she didn't feel that. She felt like she was in heaven, the warmth of your touch spreading through her skin like a wildfire. And she was ecstatic to know that she could do this any time she wants to now.

She pulled away from you, her eyes still closed and her heart just losing itself in her chest. Her lips formed a big smile on her face as she slowly opened her eyes, looking at you with love, affection, and a bit of a darkness in there that kind of scared you, but you maintained your face.

"I have something for you," she whispered. "I was going to wait until we left this place, but I just can't wait any longer. Stay here." She booped you on the nose before rolling out of the bed, stepping around Natasha's weak form to leave the room. The second the door closed, you slid the rope against the sharp piece of iron, sawing at it.

Natasha was having trouble staying up, her eyes closing for a long moment before she snapped them open. You wanted to tell her that it's going to be okay, that the words you had said weren't at all true, but you didn't want to risk Maria hearing you.

You felt the rope snap underneath you just as Maria entered the room, your hand stilling as if the rope were still intact. You watched as she held up a small box towards you, making her way to you. Her laugh sent chills up and down your spine and not in a good way, sitting on the bed next to you once again and presented you with the small box, a ring box.

She pulled it open and your mouth parted open slightly at the ring sitting inside the velvet cushion, an engagement ring. "This was what Natasha was doing on that day of her unfortunate accident." She was buying an engagement ring, something she couldn't tell you because proposals are always a surprise. "She was going to leave you and propose to her side piece! But I saved you, Y/N. I sabotaged her bike, I tried to help you sooner! But it's better late than never."

It was all clicking into place now. Even with Maria's contradicting words, you saw the truth. The vacation Natasha wanted to go on was where she was going to propose to you. And although she did have a plan in place, if you had won the bet, she would've made it work. Clint knew, that's why he was in such denial that Natasha was cheating on you. Oh, you're an idiot! She wasn't cheating on you!

The ring box snapping shut pulled you out of your thoughts, back to the horrifying present. She tossed it over her shoulder, watching it bounce off the wall, losing it when it skittered across the floor. Maria leaned close to you, a bright smile on her face. "I love you, Y/N."

You stared at her, dazed. You had completely forgotten about your role, still thinking about Natasha's proposal. You didn't realize Maria was losing her smile even though you were looking right at her, clenching her fists tightly together.

"Say it back."

"I love you, too," you instantly said, the smile returning to her lips. You leaned towards her and, not being able to help herself, she met you halfway, her lips connecting to yours in a softer kiss than earlier, but it still twisted your stomach.

Her eyes were closed, using this opportunity to snake your free hand around her waist, under her shirt, and you gripped the handle of the knife tucked in her waistband. The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion, knowing you had to react fast in order to do this.

You slid the knife out from behind her and drove the blade through her abdomen. She seemed to have known it was coming, feeling the moment the knife was sliding out of her pants and only having a moment to react, moving to the side when you stabbed her to prevent anything major inside of her from getting damaged. It didn't matter, you had injured her, slowed her down.

You pushed her away and she stumbled back, immediately focusing your attention on the hand that was still tied to the headboard. She groaned in pain as she slowly pulled the blade out of her, rushing to untie your restraint to be free. And you had just managed to undo the complicated knot before Maria came back to her senses.

You tried to climb out of the bed, but you felt a hand wrap around your ankle and pull you back to her, dragging you across the bed and flipping you into your back, pinning you to the mattress by laying over you, your hands trapped between your bodies as she held the bloody knife to your throat. You swallowed as she stared into your eyes, her bright blues wild, a fire in there that ignited the pain she was feeling, the anger and betrayal.

"I don't want to hurt you," she expressed through a locked jaw, pushing the blade against your throat. Not hard enough to pierce the skin, but hard enough to keep you from disobeying again. "Please, baby, don't make me hurt you." She ran her free hand across your forehead again.

You gritted your teeth, your hands squirming in between your bodies until you felt the warm, sticky liquid coat your skin, finding exactly where her fresh wound was by the feeling of the blood in your hands. You pushed up against her wound and she screamed out in pain, pushing herself away from you.

You quickly got to your feet, kicking her knees out when she bent down to coddle her wound. She fell to the ground, the knife dropping from her hand. The overexertion caused you to stumble forward, having to use the bed as support as you rounded it to make your way to Natasha. You ungagged her, your hands hovering over her face, wanting to touch her but not wanting to wipe Maria's blood on her.

"Are you okay?"

She breathed out when the rag was removed from her mouth, instantly relaxing under at your words as you moved behind her to untie her hands. The second her hands were free, she rested them on your cheeks. "I love you," she whispered, her hands not being able to stay still. "I would never-"

"I know," you interrupted softly, holding onto her wrists. "I'm so sorry I believed it. I should've known that you wouldn't do that to me." You helped each other stand to your feet, your head feeling warm and fuzzy now that Natasha was back in your arms.

She pulled you out of the way at the last moment, blocking the incoming attack from Maria sneaking up behind you. Natasha, although tired, still managed to block Maria's attempt to stab her, grabbing onto her wrist and pushing her armed hand away from her stomach. You stepped forward, the room seeming to grow into a hallway as you did, but you continued anyway, tracking Maria to the ground.

The knife flew from her hand, sliding under the bed as you landed on top of her. Your knee pushed into her abdomen.

"Nat, go," you pleaded through Maria's screams, but you felt her arms wrap around you, tugging you off the psycho.

"Not without you." She pulled you to your feet, assisting each other out of the bedroom and into what looked like to be a living room, though old age and vacancy made the apartment seem unlivable.

You released Natasha as you stumbled ahead, your hands scrambling to unlock the front door upon reaching it and the wet blood on your hands wasn't making it any easier. You pulled open the door, turning around to reach for Natasha, but freezing when you saw two redheads instead of just the one. You blinked, still having that fuzzy feeling in your head. Were you seeing double?

It took you a moment to realize that no, you weren't seeing double and it was just Maria sneaking up on Natasha. It was definitely the knife raised in the air that made you realize.

"Nat!" The fear in your voice alerted Natasha instantly, spinning around in time to prevent Maria from stabbing the knife in her brain by catching her falling arm. The two redheads struggled as you staggered forward, your vision blurring the women together as they fought.

Natasha managed to throw Maria over her shoulder, letting out a pained sigh as the perpetrator flew into the coffee table. You finally reached Natasha, grabbing onto her wrist and tugging her back to the door.

The door slammed shut behind you as you exited into the hall, looking both ways, trying to decide where to go.

"We need… We need to…" You breathed out as you almost fell forward. You would've fell to the ground if Natasha wasn't there to catch you, but how she managed to stay on her feet with her injuries was beyond you.

"Y/N?"

You had thought you were feeling all warm and fuzzy inside because you had Natasha back, but that wasn't the case entirely. The metallic taste of that water Maria made you drink was still on your tongue. She had drugged you once again. Not to be unconscious, but to be obedient. You wondered how well that worked out for her.

"I'm fine," you said, your words slurring together. You held onto Natasha tightly, but when you heard the door start to open behind you, the two of you hurried down a random direction in the hall.

You managed to round the corner before she stepped out of the room.

"She's mine, Romanoff!" Maria's voice echoed through the abandoned building as the two of you hid around the corner, taking an extra breather.

"Come on," you whispered, shaking the blurry edges away from your vision as you looked at Natasha. "Nat."

She lifted her arm up to grab you, her tank top riding up a little to let you see a sliver of her skin, red covering her stomach. You were quick despite the drugs in your system, lifting up the shirt higher to get a view of a fresh wound. Maria must have gotten a good swing on Natasha during that fight.

"You're bleeding," you whispered.

She grabbed your wrist and tore it away from her shirt, letting it fall back down to cover her stomach. "We'll deal with it later," she said. "Let's go."

You wrapped her arm around her neck and guided her down the hall, both of you stumbling and using the walls as an extra crutch. You were both tired, beaten. And you felt as if you would've just given up if Natasha wasn't here, giving you something to fight for. You could hear Maria calling out for you, her “love", from behind you. And when Natasha stumbled forward without you, she fell to the floor.

Maria was close on your heels, you knew that with how slow the two of you were walking, but when Natasha struggled to get back to her feet, you could hear her voice getting closer and closer as she continued to call out to you.

Natasha waved you off, not even having enough strength to tell you to leave her. Not like you would've done it anyway. And if you couldn't get her to her feet, you had to get her out of the open. The good thing about an abandoned apartment building is that none of the rooms would be locked, pushing open the nearest door and dragging Natasha's body through it.

The door softly closed shut by the time Maria rounded the corner.

You leaned Natasha against the wall beside the door, lifting her shirt once more to eye the knife wound. You had to stop the bleeding.

You looked up at her to see her eyes closed, using a hand to cup her face - getting blood on her was no longer a concern - and shaking her awake. "Keep your eyes opened, baby," you whispered, her green eyes melting into you when her eyes shot open. "Come on, Nat. Stay with me."

She tried to breathe in, faltering with pain, as she said, "I'm not… going anywhere." She sent you a small, weak smile, her eyes sliding close once more until the sound of Maria kicking open doors startled her awake. How did she know you had taken a moment to hide?

You took Natasha's hands and placed them above the wound, forcing her to push down to stop the bleeding. You covered her mouth quickly with your hand to stop her from screaming out. You knew she wasn't going to hold on for long, but it was giving her something to do for now so she wouldn't close her eyes.

You wobbled your way into the kitchen, using the counter as support as you pulled open drawers, searched through the cabinets, desperate to find something to help Natasha all while staying quiet. You whispered under your breath, begging to find anything that could stop her bleeding. You lost your balance, falling to your knees in front of the sink. You pulled open the cabinet in a last ditch effort, feeling a little bit of hope when you saw an old box of trash bags.

You grabbed them, returning to Natasha and ripping one out of the box. Her eyes opened when she felt your presence, moving her hands away and wrapping the trash bag around her, tightening it. It wasn't much, but at least it'd slow the bleeding.

You stood up, preparing to bring Natasha to her feet, but you were thrown back when the door was kicked in right in front of you. Pain shot through your shoulder, making you seethe as you quickly climbed back to your feet. You looked up in time to see Maria march into the room, making a beeline right for you. You tried lifting your arm, but the pain that jolted through your body prevented you from using it, leaving only one arm to fend with.

Maria was swinging her knife in large arches as she neared you, anger behind every swing. "I told you not to make me hurt you, Y/N," she said, her voice surprisingly disappointed for someone who seems so angry. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

She continued toward you, causing you to walk back to avoid getting hit by the blade she was swinging around. You tripped over something, the pain in your shoulder ripping through your body as you fell to the floor, the back of your head greeting it with a thud. You groaned in pain, unable to fight her off of you as she sat on your chest, your breath catching in your throat as she unintentionally put pressure against your shoulder.

"I can't believe you're making me do this to you," she said, sad. Her eyes were coated with unshed tears and you were having a hard time figuring out if they were sad or angry tears. "But you must learn your lesson. You have to know your place, Y/N."

She pulled down the collar of your shirt, pressing the blade against your collarbone. She looked upset as she dug the tip of the knife last your skin, causing you to wince. This was okay. As long as her attention wasn't on Natasha, this was okay.

Blood dripped down your skin as she drew the knife across, leaving a long mark on your chest. It wouldn't leave a scar, it wasn't that deep, but in the moment, it felt like she was marking her territory.

"I'm doing this because I love you," she said soothingly. Your vision blacked out around the edges as she picked up the knife and moved to another location, drawing a second line into your skin. "I'm doing this because I want to protect you."

Tears silently rolled down your cheeks as she continued her torture, the pain in your shoulder and her pinning your arms to your sides left you unable to fight back.

"I'm going to give you a mark for each time you denied your feelings for me." That's going to be a lot of marks. "But don't worry, baby," she said, lightly dragging the blade against your cheek as she shushed you softly, "I won't let them be permanent." She moved the knife back down to your chest, adding a third mark.

You were suddenly able to breathe, Maria being pulled off of you when a trash bag was wrapped around her throat, yanking her back. You fell into a coughing fit, fighting against the pain so you could see Maria tangled in Natasha's legs, pulling the trash bag around her throat as tight as she possibly could. You fell forward when you started walking, using your hands to catch yourself. You made your way to the women, catching Maria's hand in time to prevent her from stabbing Natasha with the knife. You pried the weapon from her hand.

"You might… as well kill… me," she struggled to say through her choking. Natasha eased the strangulation, her legs holding her tightly prisoner. Maria desperately caught her breath, her pink face returning to normal color. "I'm never going to stop until I get you, Y/N," she promised.

You pointed the blade at her as Natasha unwrapped her legs. "Get up," you ordered, but she continued to lay there.

Maria smiled at you. "That drug still in your system?"

You ignored her, Natasha climbing to her own feet and forcing Maria to stand. You blinked, but it seemed like forever for your eyes to reopen. You sighed as Natasha searched her pockets, pulling out a cellphone.

In the moment it took her to pick up the trash bag intended to be used as restraints, Maria ran forward. You didn't have time to react as she ran at you, the knife plunging deep into her stomach when she made it to you.

Her blue eyes slowly dimmed, a smile crossing her features to reveal the blood-stained teeth, a drop of blood falling out of her mouth and down her chin. Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion, your hand leaving the blade of the knife as she leaned forward. "Why?" She didn't have to die.

"I told… you," she breathed, her inhales raspy. "You might as… well kill me. Years without... you is like… death anyway."

She fell to her knees, a smile still on her face as you stumbled back, falling to the ground as she fell forward. The light faded from her eyes, tears streaming down your face. Natasha fell down on her way to you, reaching out to you, but the smile Maria was sending you, even in death, would forever haunt your nightmares.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⧗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

17 days after training

The sun hit your skin, warmth flooding through you as the pelicans squawked somewhere in the skies above you. The waves crashed down, people around you enjoying themselves - children making sandcastles, parents too busy taking pictures of the ocean to focus on their spawns, surfers trying to hit the gnarly waves - but the only person that mattered to you, in this moment, just joined you on the blanket.

She planted a kiss on your cheek as she handed you a bottle of water, but you turned your face so you could catch her lips in a kiss, her smile breaking it. She grabbed onto your left hand, bringing it up so she could marvel at the ring resting on your ring finger. You laughed, tugging your hand away from her so you could open your water.

"Why do you keep looking at it, Nat?" you questioned, grinning as you shook your head.

"Because you said yes and it feels like a dream." You laughed again as she crawled to you, locking in another kiss and only pulling a part when you heard a couple children express their disgust at your PDA, causing the two of you to laugh.

The remainder of your recruits graduated training seventeen days ago. Clint came in last, even with both of his recruits, and you had to confess your little lie you had fed his recruits. When he tried to get you disqualified, you used John's information against him and called him out for sabotaging you for years. Natasha came in first, but only because you told John to let Griggs win. You wanted to go on her vacation, see what she had planned.

She proposed a couple nights ago, right in front of the Eiffel Tower, and the two of you enjoyed the engagement phase by spending the nights in between in your hotel room together, tangled limbs in bed. Now, you had decided to greet the outside world once again and enjoy a day on the beach.

After the Maria incident, which took place over a month ago, you took yourself off as a trainer. John Nolan will be your last ever trainee in your SHIELD career. You were strictly sticking to operations. And Natasha grew her hair out, went as far to dye it blonde. You told her she didn't have to, but you were secretly relieved when she came out of the bathroom one day with long, blonde hair over her short, red hair, which is forever ruined thanks to Maria. She couldn't stand looking at herself in the mirror with her old hairdo, not being able to see anybody but Maria.

You still get nightmares about it, though not as much. So does Natasha. Sometimes, you even wake up screaming, but it didn't matter because she was always there when it got bad. Just like you were always there for her. It was hard to get that smiling face out of your head, and you would have gone absolutely nuts if Natasha wasn't here to share the pain with you. She was patient, walking with you every step of the way to recovery. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What’re you thinking about?” Her voice pulled you out of her thoughts, slowly blinking as you refocused on her face. A small smile rested on her lips, but the look in her eyes told you that she had some sort of idea what was playing on your mind right now. Like a broken record. It was hard not to think about it, the traumatizing moment. You had almost died, she had almost died. You don’t know what you would’ve done if she had died, the doctors at the time didn’t even know how she managed to stay alive after everything was all said and done. She was a fighter and she has the scars to prove it.

“I was just thinking,” you started, pulling her against you and laying down on the blanket, melting into the sand, “about what to get for lunch.”

She rested her head against your shoulder as you held her, staring up into the sky as your fingers played with her blonde strands of hair, your muscles relaxing underneath her weight. She sighed peacefully, content. The love between the two of you is stronger and indestructible. Impenetrable. And you had made a mental promise to yourself that when Natasha says someone has a crush on you, no matter how small, that you were going to steer clear from them. Because you were hers to love, just as much as she was yours.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha #natasha x reader #Romanoff #romanoff x reader #Black Widow #black widow x reader #clint barton #hawkeye

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jungshookz · 3 years

Text

smitten: y/n's note is in jungkook's bag and she needs to get it back like, right now

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook & smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boo hoo angsty wattpad-energy fic of your dreams!! unrequited love!! it hurts so bad but that's what makes it so good!!

➺ wordcount; 7.1k

➺ summary; y/n realizes her meticulously written i love you note is burning a hole at the bottom of jungkook's bag and the mere thought of him finding it is enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.

➺ what to expect; "well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that."

➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

[previously, on smitten...]

what?

where the hell is it?

you reach into the side pockets and you're disappointed when you end up pulling out old tissues and empty gum wrappers

it's not in the front pocket either — just your keys, a pack of bubblegum, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer

your brows knit together in deep thought as you settle back against your seat, your eyes flickering to the side as you-

you immediately pale

oh my god.

you're positive that your heart stops beating for three whole seconds the moment you realize where exactly the note is — because no, you idiot, you didn't shove it into your own bag earlier-

the note is in jungkook's bag.

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

the next thirty or so minutes of class seem to drag on at a snail's pace and you find yourself checking the time on your phone every five seconds to see when you can finally dart out those doors

your first instinct was to immediately get up and leave because of course you wanted to immediately get up and leave, but with only twenty-ish people in the class and the fact that you're seated near the front... well, it would be a little awkward to just pack up your things and trek up towards the doors without a legitimate excuse (you were tempted to tell your professor that your stomach wasn't feeling very good but the thought of your peers associating you with explosive diarrhea quickly changed your mind)

so, you decided to be a good student and wait it out — but, being perfectly honest, you haven't really been paying much attention to the professor since the thought of you shoving your hi bestie, i'm head-over-heels in love with you note into jungkook's bag instead of yours contaminated your mind five minutes ago

...

you let out a little huff before shaking your head to yourself

how could you be so careless?!

you don't even know how it happened

your bag was sitting on your right thigh, jungkook's bag was sitting on your left thigh... so how the hell did you manage to shove it into his bag??

on the bright side, at least you know where it is, right?

it's in the right side pocket of the bag, so all you have to do is unzip it and stick your hand in and out really quickly without jungkook noticing you rummaging around in his belongings

...but what if he's already read the note?

your foot taps impatiently against the carpeted ground and you reach up and start tugging at your earlobe anxiously, your eyes flickering up towards the dusty analog clock hanging on the wall

c'mon... c'mon...

your grip tightens around your pencil as you continue to trace circles aimlessly on the page, the paper crinkling slightly from the amount of pressure you're putting on it

the stress that's currently eating away at you is probably going to take ten years off your life

"-so, that's pretty much it from me for the day!"

you don't think you've ever been so happy for a class to end as soon as the screen goes black at the front and you waste absolutely no time in packing up

you probably look insane trying to shove your laptop and your notebook into your bag at the same time but you couldn't care less at this point because you need to get the hell out of here

"-please remember to contribute to the discussion threads online... at least four responses, please, and none of those bullshit 'yes, i agree!' responses. i'm definitely not going to count those as participation marks-"

you close your bag with a sharp ziiiip! and you hurry to fold the squeaky desk back into place, a couple of people turning to glance at you for the sudden abundance of clattering and knocking coming from your direction

"excuse me, pardon me-" you pull your backpack on as you step over multiple sets of legs, trying your best not to trample on any feet or knock anyone's tooth out with your bag, "sorry! excuse me-"

you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you jog up the steps two at a time, your brain immediately mapping out the route to the library jungkook said he'd be at

best case scenario: he hasn't found the note and your friendship with him is still very much in tact

worst case scenario: he found the note and is currently reading it at this point in time and your friendship with him is starting to crumble but you still have a chance to swoop in and pick up the pieces

the absolutely worst case ever in the entire world scenario: he's found the note, he's read the note, he's processed the note, and your friendship with him has been completely annihilated and now he's planning to change his name and leave the country so that he doesn't have to confront you about it

you use your shoulder to shove the doors open before bursting out into the open air, ignoring the concerned glances you're starting to receive from your obviously frazzled state

"oh god, oh god, oh god-!" your backpack flops wildly against your back as you rush down the narrow brick steps leading towards the main boulevard

realistically, jungkook's probably found and read the note, so all you have to do is come up with a short monologue about how all of it was fake and that the note was just a sick, twisted prank of some kind

i know that the note makes it seem like i'm telling you that i'm in love with you, but that's not the truth at all!

"woah, watch it-!"

you accidentally knock into someone's shoulder while sprinting down the lane and you turn around for a second just to hold a hand out while flashing the stranger a sheepish smile

"sorry! so sorry-" you turn back around, reaching up to keep your glasses secured on the top of your head as you continue to sprint, your sneakers slapping down against the pavement

as you read in the note, i made a point about how since we're friends, we should be honest with each other... and honestly, there are nothing but lies in the note! and there's a lesson in that, you know? words can be full of lies but we, as human beings, should be full of truths-

"nope, hate that-" you shake your head and immediately scrunch up that mental piece of paper before tossing it into your brain's garbage bin

you'd sound like an obnoxious philosophy student if you hit him with that explanation

it was a prank! i want to start a prank war with you and this is how i'm kicking things off!

that... that could work, right?

that's not bad!

just tell him that you wanted to start a prank war with him so you decided to go big or go home with an i love you, best friend note to see how he would react!

"so stupid-" you mutter to yourself, slowing down to a jog as you approach the doors to the library, "so, so stupid-"

the Super Epic Prank War ROFL XD™ explanation isn't the greatest excuse but it's the best you can do on such short notice

thankfully, it doesn't take you very long to track down jungkook considering the fact he always sits in the same area every time the two of you come here

your feet come to a screeching halt the moment you spot him and you quickly step to the side to hide behind the wall

you slowly lean over a little to peek at him

he has his headphones on and he's busy typing away at his laptop and you can tell he's concentrating really hard because he has that cute frown on his face and occasionally he'll mutter something to himself

jungkook in intense focus mode is something you find to be very endearing :-)

...

you quickly shake your head to snap yourself out of your daze before focusing on jungkook's face again

he certainly doesn't look like he just read an explosive love letter...

you could still be safe!

...for now, that is.

"okay, y/n-" you stand up straight and let out a breath, giving yourself a mental pat on the head in an effort to calm your nerves, "better sooner than later, right? just- you just have to rip it off like a bandaid-"

your anxiety seems to build with every step that brings you closer to jungkook and you can almost hear the jaws theme song playing all around you

da-dum

jungkook, i swear i have a perfectly logical explanation for this...

da-dum

i know the note does a very convincing job of making it seem like i'm in love with you, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

da-dum, da-dum

consider this your initiation into our very serious prank war, my friend!

dadumdadumdumdumbdumbdumbthisissuchadumbdumbidea-

"hi!" you greet a little too enthusiastically, trying your best not to make it seem like you just sprinted across campus to get to him even though you very clearly did

"sorry, seat's reserv- y/n?" jungkook looks up from his laptop before frowning, quickly glancing back down at his screen to check the time as he pulls his headphones off to hang around his neck, "aren't you- didn't your class end, like, literally a minute ago? why are you so- did you run here??" he asks incredulously, getting up from his seat as his brows knit together in concern

"no, no! of course i didn't run here, silly- oh, god, give me a sec-" you wheeze, bending down and gripping onto the back of the wooden chair in front of you as you try to catch your breath, your chest still falling and rising at a concerning pace from the physical stress of sprinting and the mental stress of the current situation, "it was more of a- of a brisk walk, if you think about it- jesus, i think i'm gonna throw up-"

"okay, you need to drink some water- come and sit next to me-" jungkook reaches out to help lead you around the table towards him, "god, i don't know why you thought you had to run over, it's not like i was planning on going anywhere-"

"i'm fine, kook, it's fine-"

"you're, like, literally radiating heat," jungkook turns you around and pulls your bag off your back before pulling out a chair and helping you into it, "and your face is all red!" he frowns, setting your bag down on the table and unzipping it to pull out your water bottle

"my face is always this red!" you force out a casual laugh, waving your hand to dismiss him as you lean back against the seat, "i'm fine, it's fine-"

"shut up and take a sip-" jungkook untwists the cap of your water bottle before shoving it into your hands and gently lifting it up towards your mouth, his head tilting up a little so he can check and see if you're actually drinking anything, "c'mon, hydrate yourself-"

you swallow a couple gulps of water before pulling the bottle away and reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "god, i love water-"

"yeah, i bet." jungkook chuckles, visibly more relieved now that he knows you won't be passing out from exhaustion anytime soon

as you put your water bottle away, your eyes lower towards jungkook's backpack slouching against the leg of his chair and almost immediately the anxiety that you thought you'd just swallowed down bubbles right back up

"so, are you going to tell me why you're acting like the cops are after you?" jungkook jokes, taking his seat before pulling his headphones off and setting them down next to his laptop

"i just, um-" you press your lips together as you slowly start to lean down, stretching your arm out towards the pocket, "i just wanted to see you, buddy!"

"i don't believe that for a second." jungkook snorts, turning to look at you

you shoot straight back up and pull your arm up and behind your head as if you're in the middle of a good stretch, "hey, what's with that tone? it's not a crime for me to want to see you-"

"you saw me at lunch! and that was only like an hour and a half ago-" jungkook turns his head to look back at his screen and you quickly revert back to your mission impossible secret agent mode

the forced smile drops from your face and you lean back down, your fingers blindly feeling for the cool metal of the zipper

"you know, you actually came at just the right time-" jungkook speaks up again and you pause just in case you need to pull away from his bag, but he makes no move to turn and look at you, "ji-eun was about to leave for her class but now you can meet her before she goes off!"

"uh-huh..." your tongue pokes out in concentration as you unzip the pocket in one swift movement, immediately sticking your hand in and feeling around for the balled-up piece of paper, "sounds gre-"

hold on, what did he just say?

you shoot back up

"did you just-" you choke and reach up to pat your chest gently, "i'm sorry, did you just say that ji-eun was here?"

"uh-huh!" jungkook nods, "i didn't know she had a spare at the same time as i did so i was surprised when she came over to say hi- it turns out our schedules are, like, sort of similar which oddly makes me kind of happy-"

it's at that moment that you notice the cherry-patterned tote bag slumped in the chair sitting across from you and you let out a nervous chuckle as you shift in your seat, "great! great, that's so- great, it's great that i'm meeting ji-eun today, out of all days..." you trail off, glancing around warily as you try to come up with some kind of an exit strategy

you're just really not in the mood to meet the love of jungkook's life today

you've already been hit with so many blows and it's only two in the afternoon-

"sorry that took so long! i couldn't find a bin but i bumped into my friends and they said they'd throw it out for me-"

oh, you have got to be kidding me.

your eyes widen in mild panic upon immediately recognizing ji-eun to be the girl who had overheard your entire monologue in the bathroom earlier today — and from the way her eyes flicker, it seems as though she remembers exactly who you are as well

"oh, no worries!" jungkook beams at ji-eun before pointing to you with his thumb, "this is my friend, by the way. the one i was talking about earlier! y/n, this is ji-eun."

you stay quiet as you continue staring up at ji-eun, your mind racing a mile a minute as you consider your current options

you can pretend like you've never met her before or you can make things awkward by telling jungkook that you met her today after she'd emptied her bladder

"...y/n?" jungkook lowers his voice, nudging you with his elbow before letting out a nervous chuckle, "please say something."

"i- yes, hello!" you blurt out, the feet of your chair scraping against the rough carpet as you get up from your seat to stick your hand out towards ji-eun, "it's- ah- it's- it's so nice to meet you! i'm y/n."

ji-eun stays quiet for a second before her lips turn up in a polite smile and she reaches towards you, gently taking your outstretched hand in hers (for the record, her hands are shockingly soft and supple), "it's lovely to meet you... as well, y/n. i love your glasses!"

you can't help but notice the immediate warmth that seems to surround ji-eun and suddenly it makes a lot more sense as to why jungkook's attracted to her

you're about as comforting as stepping into a puddle of water while wearing socks

you feel a slight sense of relief seeing that ji-eun is playing along but your new concern is whether or not she's connected the dots that your monologue in the bathroom was dedicated to jungkook

you didn't actually say his name when you were talking out loud, so you might be able to get away with this...

"oh, these old things?" you reach up to feel the glasses sitting on top of your head before flicking your hand at her, "i bought them on amazon. they're blue-light glasses- i can totally send you the link if you want."

"that would actually be great!" she gasps, nodding enthusiastically, "i desperately need a pair of blue-light glasses- seriously, i stared at my laptop screen for, like, ten hours straight today and i really feel like they're about to roll out of my head-"

"oh my god, don't even get me started. at this point it'd probably feel better to rip them right out of their sockets-"

"ji-eun, you ready?"

"let's gooo, i wanna get an iced coffee before we head off to class."

you and ji-eun don't get a chance to continue bonding over the pain of sore eyes when you're suddenly interrupted by two new voices

you look up to see two guys approaching the table and you subtly push your seat back a bit as you prepare yourself to say hello again

"oh! yeah, i'm ready, sorry-" ji-eun gestures towards you with a smile, "this is- this is jungkook's friend, by the way. y/n, these are my friends."

"hi, hello-" you get up from your seat again to stick your hand out, offering the two (very handsome, might you add) strangers a friendly smile, "i'm y/n, jungkook's friend- but you- you already knew that because that's what ji-eun just said-"

"i'm taehyung! you can call me tae-" the corners of taehyung's mouth immediately raise in a bright grin and he gives your hand a firm shake before nodding next to him, "and this is jimin!"

"hi..." you trail off, turning to give jimin a handshake as well, "so nice to meet you!"

"oh, i just- i actually just washed my hands, so-" jimin chuckles, looking down at your hand before taking a small step back, "but it's nice to meet you... jungkook's friend."

ooh

is it just you or did it suddenly get a little icy in here?

"oh, no problem! um, yeah, you too." you pull your hand back before swallowing nervously and forcing the polite smile back on your face, "i like your jacket, by the way! it looks really cool."

maybe it's because he's wearing giant sunglasses indoors but you can't help but feel slightly intimidated by jimin

you can't see his eyes but you can certainly feel them on you and you're definitely getting the vibe that jimin is already not the biggest fan of you for some weird reason

"thank you." he responds curtly, smoothing a hand over the leather before looking down at ji-eun, "so can we go now?"

"mhm!" ji-eun gets up from her chair before pushing it back into place, pulling her tote back up onto her shoulder before flashing a sweet smile at jungkook, "see you later, alligator."

"in a while, crocodile!" jungkook responds enthusiastically, watching with twinkly eyes as she turns and heads off towards the exit with jimin and taehyung glued at either side of her

god

she even walks prettily

and you were literally clomping down the boulevard like a feral caveman a second ago

you wait until they've disappeared to turn and face jungkook with a raised eyebrow, "...jimin was kind of a bitch."

"hey, play nice!" jungkook frowns, reaching over to give your arm a gentle whack, "he's a fashion major! ji-eun says being snooty is part of the degree requirements-" he grins, shaking his head slightly before leaning back against his chair, "she's, like, super funny."

"mm." you hum, still feeling a little uneasy about your interaction with jimin

you just hate it when first meetings don't go well and that first meeting definitely wasn't super great

but it wasn't like you did anything wrong, right?

you were great!

snooty jimin was the one who was being rude

whatever

hopefully you won't have to hang out with him too often if jungkook and ji-eun become an item

maybe you can just stick with taehyung!

he seems to be a lot friendlier

"oh, by the way, i-" you're suddenly reminded of your main mission and you turn to point down at jungkook's bag, "it's not a big deal, but i- i accidentally shoved something in your bag earlier and- could i just get it back from you?"

"you did?" jungkook frowns, leaning down to pick his bag up before unzipping it all the way and pulling both flaps open, "what was it?"

"it was- uh- just some notes on a scrap piece of paper!" you immediately feel the weight lift from your shoulders at jungkook's cluelessness to the situation, "i put it in the right side pocket-"

"wait, are you talking about, like, a balled up thing of paper?" jungkook pauses before looking up at you with wide eyes, "oh, shit- was it important??"

"um, i wouldn't call it important-" you snort, shaking your head, "is it not there? i swore it was in the right side pocket-"

"no, no, it was there! it was there, i just- ji-eun needed to spit her gum out and i thought it was one of my scrap pieces of paper-" jungkook winces, grabbing his phone and unlocking it with fumbling fingers, "i'm so sorry, y/n- let me text ji-eun and ask her which garbage can she threw it into and i can go dig it out-"

"no, no, it's okay!" you nearly let out a screech of delight knowing that your note now has a slobbery wad of gum in it and is living at the bottom of a trash can, "it's fine, i just- they were just boring notes for something. i just wanted to see if i had really shoved it into your bag or not."

"oh, okay-" jungkook's shoulders immediately slump and he sets his phone down on the table, "you're sure it wasn't important?"

"100%." you hold both hands out with a chuckle, "i needed to throw it out anyway so i guess ji-eun actually did me a favour-"

"okay, phew." jungkook sighs, zipping his bag back up and plopping it back down on the ground next to his feet, "anyways- i'm actually glad you're here because now you can help me plan out my date! i was working on it but then ji-eun came and obviously i couldn't have that google doc open in front of her-" he turns his laptop to show you all of his hard work with a grin, "check it out! i have a list of things i need to buy, i have outfit ideas, i even went on pinterest for inspiration-"

"wow, kook-" your eyes bulge out for a second at the sight of the extensive and shockingly organized google doc before you reach over to pull his laptop closer towards you, "i... i really don't think i've ever seen you... even make a google doc before-"

he even has the sunset time written down for the date

why would he need to know what time the sun is setting??

"i have everything planned for next week." jungkook pulls his laptop back to him as you settle back against your seat, "i already emailed my landlord to ask if i would even be allowed to hang out on the rooftop and he said it would be fine! he also reminded me to keep a brick wedged between the door so that i don't lock us up on the rooftop-"

"so you're definitely going with the rooftop picnic, then?"

"oh, i'm actually changing it to a rooftop dinner instead of a picnic." jungkook shakes his head before giving you a half-hearted shrug, "i think a picnic is cute but i really wanna try to impress her, y'know? i ordered this thing on amazon just now- basically, it's a medium-sized inflatable bubble tent! the description says it's perfect for two people and- i'm gonna, like-" he pauses and looks away from his screen towards you with a smile, "well, you know, i'm gonna do what you said and i'm gonna stuff it full of blankets and pillows and... hopefully i can string up fairy lights and stuff on the inside... so that after the date we can go in there and just talk and not have to worry about getting attacked by mosquitos!"

"wow, that's-" you cross your arms over your chest before leaning back and looking up towards the ceiling, "huh. that's actually a cute idea, kook. i wouldn't have been able to come up with something like that. i didn't even know transparent tents existed."

"i know." jungkook gives you a smug little smile before bursting into a grin, "but yeah, that's it! all we have to do is go and pick up all the supplies and stuff."

"we?" you frown, looking back down at jungkook, "i... wasn't aware i was part of this plan..."

"what? of course you are!" jungkook snorts, looking at you as if a third eye just sprouted from your forehead, "obviously you have to help me-"

"well, i just don't know if that's-" you chuckle uneasily as you rub the back of your neck, "i really- i don't wanna get in your way, you know? maybe you should- maybe you should just take care of all of this yourself! i mean, you basically planned everything already-"

"what? but- but you're my-" jungkook deflates and you instantly feel bad upon seeing his eyes suddenly turn sad, "okay..."

you press your lips together and wait for him to say something else but the next few seconds are filled with nothing but awkward silence and the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights hanging above you

you'd jump off a cliff if jungkook asked you to but helping him prepare and set up his date is something that you,.., definitely would not enjoy.,.,

but then again, this isn't about you, is it?

this is about jungkook, your friend, and he needs your help to set up this very important date that-

oh, damnit.

"i'm-" you clear your throat as you sit up in your seat, reaching over to give jungkook's hand a pat, "no, of course i'll help, kook. i just thought that- well, this date seems so important to you that i thought you wanted to take care of all the details yourself!"

the bright smile immediately returns to jungkook's face and you resist the urge to call him out on so blatantly guilt-tripping you like that-

"yes! you're the best!"

"i know."

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

although you and jungkook are practically inseparable on campus (and some would say it might be healthy for the two of you to give each other a little bit of space) — you don't think you'll ever say no to hanging out with him downtown

of course, hanging out with jungkook downtown would be a lot more fun if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have basically spent the entire day shopping for all the things he needs for his date

and if it weren't for the fact that he paid for lunch and treated you to a cake pop and a venti-sized iced coffee, you would probably be livid about having to carry everything for him because you really feel like your arms are about to pop right off in about two seconds

fancy cutlery, porcelain plates, fluffy throw pillows, a giant blanket, fairy lights... at this point he might as well buy an entire house for ji-eun

and look, you know you probably sound bitter and that-should-be-me about this whole situation, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

it's just that listening to someone you like gushing about the person that they like for an entire day while you're carrying bags full of things for their date can get a little mentally and physically exhausting so if you're grouchy right now it's really not your fault

"i think we might have to call an uber back to your place, jungkook-" you mutter, adjusting the hefty tote bag over your shoulder with a grunt as you trail behind him on the sidewalk, "bringing all of this on the bus is going to piss people off-"

you stumble over your feet a little when the bag in your right hand knocks into a garbage can and you curse to yourself while resisting the urge to kick the damn thing over

"okay, grumpy, we'll call an uber home-" jungkook spins around with a smile before raising the notepad in his hand and tapping against it with his pen, "i just have one more thing i have to take care of and then we can go!"

"okay, well-" you set the bags down onto the ground with a fwump! before rubbing your sore palms together, "what else do you have to get?"

jungkook offered to help carry a couple of things but you insisted that you'd take it all and that he should just focus on ticking off all of the items on his list

you wince at the sight of the pinkish-red imprints now embedded into your palms from the straps of the bags

obviously you've now come to regret your generous offer

"flowers!" jungkook chirps, using his pen to point to the flower shop a couple of shops down, "i have to greet ji-eun with a bouquet of flowers as pretty as she is-"

"yeah, i understand-" you adjust the two bags on both shoulders before bending down to pick up the other two on the ground, "also, i'm not a genius or anything but i'm pretty sure the flowers aren't going to survive until the date if you buy them now-"

"duh, obviously not- i'm going to place an order now and then pick them up on the day of the date!" jungkook tsks, waiting for you to join his side before he begins walking towards the flower shop, "thanks for doing all of this for me, by the way. you really are the best." he hums, hurrying over to open the door for you

"i... yeah, of course, kook." you feel yourself soften slightly as soon as you see the sweet little smile on his face and you quickly scold yourself in your head for being so curt with him all day, "that's what friends are for, right?"

"mhm!" jungkook slaps his hands down on your shoulders from behind before giving them a squeeze, "and i am so letting you choose whatever you want for dinner tonight-"

"hello!"

"oh, jesus-" you and jungkook are immediately greeted by an overenthusiastic employee as soon as you step into the shop and you honestly probably would've knocked him out with one of your shopping bags if they weren't so heavy-

"are you two looking for anything in particular?" he smiles kindly before gesturing towards the large selection of flowers all around you, "we have flowers of all kinds! roses, tulips, lilies- i can even show you flowers from our new tropical selection-"

"actually-" jungkook nudges you aside before glancing down at the employee's nametag, "seokjin, i'd like to place an order for a custom bouquet, if that's okay."

"ah, a custom bouquet!" seokjin claps his hands and rubs them together enticingly, "what are you celebrating? i need to know so that i can help pick out the perfect flowers for your bouquet."

"well, i don't know if it's a celebration-" jungkook chuckles, his cheeks pinking slightly as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, "it's for a first date."

"a first date!!" seokjin gasps excitedly before turning his head to look at you, "you must be so-"

"-oh, not for me!" you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, "it's- it's definitely not for me. i'm just here to provide moral support and-" you lift one of the bags to show him, "muscular support."

"ah, i see... okay, well- why don't i take you around and introduce you to the different candidates you could consider for your bouquet?" seokjin turns back to look at jungkook, "each flower you choose will be very important in showing your future lover how much you care about them-" he pauses when he notices you hovering behind jungkook and he leans over a little with a bright smile, "why don't you go and wait by the front counter, darling? you can put everything down there and take a little break. there's some cucumber water and fresh puff pastry apple roses up at the front if you're interested!"

"well, i can't say no to free food." you snort, nodding before turning to head towards the front counter, "i'll just wait for you over there, then..."

you nearly let out a moan of relief as soon as you set all the bags down and you twist your upper body to the right and to the left until you feel the a satisfying pop! of your spine cracking back in place

your body was not made to carry heavy things

in fact, you'd like to argue that your body was made to lie down and do nothing

you take a seat on the wooden stool before turning to look at the apple roses sitting prettily in the display case and you almost feel like you shouldn't touch them even though seokjin offered them to you

even the pitcher of cucumber water looks too nice to touch

this place is awfully fancy

you didn't even know flower shops could be this fancy

you prop both elbows up on the counter before leaning back comfortably, your eyes lazily scanning around the store

"$15 for a single rose?" you gawk at the little wooden sign poking out from a large bouquet of neatly wrapped long-stem roses before making a face, "god."

you can't even imagine how much a custom bouquet is going to cost if a single rose is fifteen bucks

"-also write a note for you and attach it to the bouquet, if you're interested in that. it'll be an additional five dollars, but we handwrite it on the highest quality card stock with the most beautiful calligraphy and we even spray it with perfume-"

you perk up when you hear seokjin's voice and you look to see him and jungkook coming over to you

you have to admit that seokjin is great at his job because he's doing a good job at milking every dollar out of jungkook-

"yeah, that would be great!" jungkook nods enthusiastically, pulling his backpack off before unzipping it to grab his wallet, "i think a small note might be cute-"

"oh, that reminds me!" seokjin stops in his tracks right as he's about to lift the wooden slab to get behind the counter, "would you be interested in purchasing a teddy bear as well? if you add a teddy bear to your order, i'll give you a slight discount on the flowers."

"ooh, a discount!" jungkook gasps and you turn your head slightly so seokjin won't see you rolling your eyes at how much he's forcing jungkook to buy

you respect the hustle but this is too much

"where are the teddy bears?"

"right by the flowers!" seokjin smiles, wrapping an arm around jungkook's shoulders and spinning him around, "we can round back and take a look-"

"okay, i think i have to cut in here-" you chuckle, reaching out and grabbing the back of jungkook's elbow, "you don't- you don't think a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear is a little too much for a first date?" you clear your throat quietly before offering a shrug, "i feel like that's just... a lot, kook. i mean, i would be overwhelmed if-"

"well, i guess it's a good thing i'm not taking you out on a date then, right?" jungkook teases, wiggling his arm out of your grip before turning back to look at seokjin, "onward to the bears, my good man!"

ouch

"yeah." you can't help but frown as jungkook and seokjin head back towards the flowers, "thanks for the reminder."

"that's gotta hurt."

"god-" you jump at the sudden appearance of an employee standing behind the counter and you place a hand over your chest before letting out a breath, "you scared me!"

"sorry." he shrugs, "we polished the floors this morning so my shoes are making, like, no noise."

"oh."

a moment of silence passes while you turn to face away from him again, but all of a sudden-

"so he really can't tell that you like him, huh?"

"you-" you immediately straighten up and your head spins around so fast that you're surprised you didn't complete decapitate yourself, "excuse me??"

"what? it's obvious." the employee snorts, spraying cleaner onto the counter before reaching up to yank the tattered rag off his shoulder, "it's painfully obvious, actually-"

you can feel your entire face starting to go red as this complete stranger continues to rip you a new one and you hold a hand out to shut him up, "no offense, but i-i don't think this is any of your business, sir-"

"it's yoongi." yoongi looks down at his apron for a second before frowning, "huh. i forgot to put my dumb name tag on again-"

"well, yoongi-" you place emphasis on his name in an effort to intimidate him and make him go away, "you don't know what you're talking about and i suggest you mind your own business-"

"you should tell him before it's too late." yoongi doesn't seem to be all that affected by your biting tone and you roll your eyes at the way he rounds back to the topic

"what are you even talking about?"

"well, i assume you're going to be his best man at his wedding. from the way it's looking, you're certainly not going to be the bride," yoongi purses his lips as he folds up the rag into a neat little square, "you don't wanna wait until you're fixing his tie at the wedding to tell him that you love him."

"what makes you think i lo-" you cut yourself off quickly before that word slips out of your mouth, "like him?"

"if you didn't, you wouldn't be here right now." yoongi points out with a tilt of his head, "and from how smudgy your eyeliner is, it looks like you've been working hard all day."

your jaw drops slightly and you can't help but scoff

the nerve of this guy!

"who do you think you are?!"

"i'm yoongi." yoongi raises a brow, "i told you that like a second ago- wow, you are not a good listener-"

"do you usually do this with all of the customers who come here?" you interrupt, crossing your arms defensively before leaning in slightly, "you're awfully nosy-"

"i only do this with the ones that seem to have something juicy going on." yoongi hums, leaning down to put the spray bottle of cleaner under the counter, "this is a flower shop. the most exciting part of my day is watching a bumblebee choose which flower to land on."

"well, nothing juicy is going on here so-" you twist back around before sticking your nose up in the air slightly, "sorry to disappoint."

"alright, fair enough." yoongi nods to himself, letting out a sigh as he slowly backs away from the counter, "i guess i'll just leave you to... wallow in self-pity... and continue staring at your friend with cartoon hearts floating around your head-"

"'you should tell him before it's too late-'" you swivel around and slap both your palms down on the counter, "why would you- why would even say something like that?! i can't tell him. are you insane?!"

a smirk twitches at the corner of yoongi's mouth at your sudden confession and he lets out a sigh before stepping back up towards you, "and why can't you tell him?"

"because- i just can't! he's-" you clear your throat before leaning in and lowering your voice, "he's literally taking someone else out on a date- we're here to buy flowers for his date-"

"so what?" yoongi interrupts, "it's just a date. it's not like you're stopping his wedding."

"so what? because he doesn't like me back, so what's the point?" you hiss, resisting the urge to reach over and smack some common sense into this very nosy and very stubborn stranger, "this isn't a romantic comedy- and even if it was, i'm very obviously not the main character-"

"you don't know that he doesn't like you back."

...

well now he's just toying with you

"i... i can't tell if you're kidding or not-"

"do i look like i'm kidding?" yoongi asks, pointing to his poker face before shaking his head, "you don't know that he doesn't like you back. you've obviously never asked him."

"oh, please." you scoff, turning around to lean back against the counter again, "trust me, i know it."

"well, did he ever explicitly say that he didn't like you?" yoongi leans over to peek at jungkook over your shoulder, "do you have a definitive answer to this particular question?"

"no, but he doesn't have to... we're just friends." you frown, your eyes wandering over to the back of jungkook's head, "he doesn't like me. i know he doesn't. we're just friends."

we're just friends.

(saying it out loud is a lot more depressing than you thought it'd be.)

"well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that," yoongi suggests, your head tilting to the side slightly as you force yourself to consider his surprisingly wise words, "it's obvious that you have a solid friendship so it would suck if a relationship ruined that- so maybe he does like you and is only asking someone else out to try to force himself not to like you..."

you feel your heart skip a beat when jungkook turns to glance at you over his shoulder with a soft smile while seokjin continues rattling off about the vast choice of teddy bears available for purchase

you bite back a giggle when he mouths a desperate 'help' at you before raising his hand and twirling his finger next to his head to tell you that seokjin is fully crazy

"...so i guess what i'm trying to say is that you're never really going to know how he feels about you if you don't ask him," you tune back in to the end of yoongi's little speech and you turn your head slightly to glance back at him, "but what do i know, right? i just polish counters at high-end flower shops."

🎙️tell jungkook he's being an idiot or tell y/n to get a backbone (send in an ask!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like smitten!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

888 notes · View notes

spideymarvelws · 3 years

Note

Playing truth or dare with college!Peter and MJ dares you to give him a (private) lap dance

This turned out to be much longer than expected

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglists

Warnings : SMUT! (Lap dance?ish?kind of? i went a bit of script im sorry, thigh riding, grinding, dirty talk, dom!peter, innocence kink, corruption kink?, masterbation, oral[male rec], mild degrading), alcohol consumption, everyone is 18+, kinda fluffy in the beginning but we do be getting smutty real quick tho, MJ being your personal wing woman

Also please dont take drinks from strangers this is fiction and not real life, always drink responsibly :)))

Word Count : 4.8k

Behind Doors

Fratboy!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

You tried to keep your staring to a minimum, you really did. But how could you when he stood in the middle of the crowd, glowing like an angel amongst everyone. He was laughing with his friends, his head tilted back with his eyes squeezed shut and a smile that could make anyone's day so much brighter. You wanted nothing more but to run your hands through his floppy brown hair bouncing on his head as he told his mates a story, his facial and hand movements lively when he moved them around, accentuating the words falling from his mouth.

His fit didn’t help either. A tight white t-shirt paired with blue jeans and a gold chain that hung from his neck, begging to be played with in any way. It was simplistic but made you swoon all the same. His muscles printed through the fabric didn’t help much either, his biceps almost tearing through the sleeves a mouth watering contrast to his cheerful face.

It was like staring at a greek god that radiated puppy dog energy.

“You’re not being subtle you know,” MJ whispered into you ear nudging your side with her elbow, “Just go talk to him,”

You shook your head, heat rising to your face as you averted your eyes from the brown eyed boy, turning to face your best friend, “You know i can’t do that,”

“Not with that you aren’t,” she pointed at the red solo cup you held in your hand filled halfway with orange juice. She quickly snatched the cup away from you, dumping the contents in the grass of the backyard.

“Hey!” You gasped, but made no effort to stop her.

“You need to loosen up,” she stabbed her finger into the middle of your chest, shoving her drink into your hands, “All of it, now,”

You took the cup hesitantly swirling the contents inside around for a bit, watching as the liquid moved smoothly around the sides of the plastic. You looked back up at MJ, feeling small when she stared you down with a stern look. You knew you weren’t finding a way out of this one.

“Fine,” you grumbled before tilting your head back, chugging the alcohol down. You let out a few coughs afterwards, giggling as MJ started to cheer.

“That’s my girl!” She wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side, “Now for about five more,”

Two hours and four drinks later, or maybe it was six you weren't keeping count, the party finally started to die down. The liquor running through your system did its job well in letting you loosen up so you could enjoy the party without being distracted by a certain brown haired boy.

You had lost MJ halfway through the night, your mind finally processing that she wasn’t by your side when you reached for her to dance with you. As you busied yourself by looking around the room, you felt someone place their hand on your lower back, sending shivers up your spine with the touch. You whipped your head around, expecting your equity intoxicated friend but only to be met with the same brown eyes you’ve been fawning over at the beginning of the night.

“Hey,” he said into your ear so that you heard it over all the noise. He moved his hand off your back after he got your attention. You tried your best to keep the tiny whine from escaping your throat at the loss of his touch. The free feeling you felt with the alcohol completely vanished with the sound of his voice turning you into that shy nerd all over again.

“Looking for someone?” He said, pushing the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his pants.

You stood speechless, you mouth agape that Peter Parker, the Peter Parker was talking to you. MJ was wrong, no amount of alcohol could’ve prepared you for the moment. At least you didn't scurry away like a mouse like you would’ve if you were fully sober.

“I- uh,” you coughed, trying to get some words out but failing miserably.

“Sorry, It’s just I saw you looking around,” he scratched the back of his neck, chuckling at your flustered state. His cheeks starting to turn a light pink which made you swoon even harder, “I assume you’re looking for MJ, since you were with her for most of the night,”

“Oh, right,” you mumbled, laughing awkwardly, looking down to the ground, “How did you know I was with her?”

“You guys are always together!” He smiled showing off his pearly whites, “Around campus you know? I’ve seen you guys together in my classes as well,”

“You noticed me?” You whispered, mainly to yourself but he managed to pick up your words, making you even more embarrassed than before.

“Of course!” He passed his hand through his hair, looking straight into your eyes, “How could I not Y/n?”

You stood speechless, your mouth opening and closing as if you wanted to say something but changed your mind last minute. Millions of thoughts ran through your brain per second, the most frequent being your name rolling off his tongue.

“Anyways, uh, the main reason i came was to bring you to MJ,” he chuckled nervously, seeming just as flustered as you, “She’s in one of the spare bedrooms with some of the boys, we’re playing a good ole’ game of truth and dare,” he voice raised adorably, making you giggle lightly, “You don’t need to join or anything, but i don’t think you would want to be alone out here,”

“Yeah!” you replied a bit to quickly, shaking your head at your enthusiasm, “I mean, yeah, I would like to join you,”

“Sick!” He smiled brightly, grabbing your hand. Your eyes widened at the action as he pulled you through the crowd, you looked down at the ground, allowing him to maneuver you around the mass of bodies.

“Just so you don’t get lost,” he said, looking back at you, pointing out your intertwined hands.

“Of course!” You said back, holding back your squeals of excitement.

You were honestly surprised with how sweet he was acting towards you. Despite his status as part of the biggest frat on campus, his reputation upholded him as the good boy of the group, the one who helped old lady’s across the street or bought lunch for you when you didn't have the money. Sure, you saw this on multiple occasions but to experience it for yourself was a nice change, and just solidified your crush on him even more.

When he reached the stairway vacant of anybody, he still didn't let go of your hand, only tightening his fingers around yours. He walked down the dark hallway and approached a door ,giving you a reassuring smile before turning the knob and pushing it open, revealing around eight or nine people. Some laid on the bed, beers in hand as they laughed while others sat on the couch. You spotted MJ on the floor, laughing with Harry Osborn.

“Who’s the chick Parker?” One of the boys said, silencing the room and putting everyone's attention on you.

“This is Y/n,” he gestured towards you, “Y/n, everyone,” Peter finally let go of your hand, popped himself on the edge of the bed, picking up a beer from the side table and nodding his head at the empty space besides him.

You looked towards MJ panicked, but all she did was mouth ‘go’ with a shit eating grin. You sneered back at her, rolling your eyes as you walked up to the bed, bending your right leg back to sit on your calf while the other dangled over the edge.

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Peter leaned into your ear, whispering gently, “Again, you don’t have to do anything you don’t have to,”

You pouted at his actions, melting at the fact that he was so observant with you. You looked down at his beer, before looking back up at him. If you were going to get through the rest of the night, you needed to be absolutely wasted.

“Do you have another beer?” You asked him, pointed to his bottle.

“You could just have mine,” he offered his drink, passing it off to you.

You bit your lip, taking a long swig of the liquid, “Thank you,”

Before the both of you could converse any longer, a girl with short blond hair you knew from English, called out from the corner, “Okay, okay, who wants to go next?”

“I think Y/n should go,” flash said, holding up his bottle towards you, “She’s the new one isn’t she?”

Peter looked at you, silently asking if you needed him to say anything. But you decided to take things into your own hands for the first time that night.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” you said, taking another swig of beer.

“Alright Y/n,” Harry said smugly, leaning back on his forearm, “Truth or dare?”

You thought about it for a bit, missing the smug look on MJ’s face as you muttered, “Dare”

“I dare you to give Peter a lap dance,” she said immediately, leaning back as she held in her laugh at your washed out face, “I mean we could send you to the other room if you want more privacy,”

You sat speechless and once again wanted to melt into the sheets beneath you. You felt Peter’s hand wrap around yours, giving him your attention.

“Only if you want to,” he muttered, giving you a soft smile.

“I-,” you took a deep breath, trying to gather the little confidence you had left, “Which room?”

Hollers and shouts bounced off the walls, as everyone hyped both of you up. Peter stood, pulling you up with him, leading you out the room.

“Take as much time as you need!” You heard MJ shout after you before the door closed, leaving you and Peter alone once again.

Your heart pounded inside your chest as Peter guided you once again to another room. You gulped, wondering if you had made the right decision so give a lap dance to your crush. He didn’t say anything as he knocked on a door, opening it when he didn't hear any noise come from the room.

“After you,” he said politely.

“Thank you,” you said shyly, walking to the middle of the room.

Peter closed the door behind him, leaning against the wood, “Sooooo,” he dragged looking you up and down, “I- uh, didn't expect you to say yes,”

“Me neither,” you chuckled, looking down to the floor.

“I mean if you don’t want to, it’s just a silly bet,” Peter said, fiddling with his fingers.

“Do-,” you coughed, “Do you want me too?”

“It’s up to you really,”

“But would you mind if i-“

“I mean I wouldn’t be against it-,”

You both laughed nervously falling into silence after that. You looked around the room, finding interest with everything besides him. You were fidgety, playing with your fingers while tapping your foot on the floor rapidly to calm your nerves. It was stupid, you’ve been dreaming about him for so long, and now that you were finally in a room together you clamed up, not knowing what to do in his presence.

Peter on the other hand kept his gaze on you, his eyes racking your body up and down. He wasn't going to lie to himself and say that he’d never thought of this moment, the moment where you and him were finally together, in a room, all alone.

You were different from the girls he was used to in the frat. You were untouched, well to his knowledge, you were a clean slate and from the small confrontations he’s had with you, he could tell you were obedient too.

He wanted so bad to just have his way with you, to absolutely ravish you like he did in his dreams. But he wanted to savour it. After so long of watching you pin over him, purely to feed his ego, he was ready to take things to the next level and what better way than with a good lap dance. Sure he was the good guy, both as himself and as his alternate persona as a hero, but when it comes to you, all his morals were thrown out the window.

Besides, you were both intoxicated and he didn't want your first time together to be at a stupid party in a room he was barely familiar with.

After a few more seconds of silence, Peter decided to take things into his own hands, to make his fantasy a reality, or to just get it started at least. He was the first to make a move, walking right up to you, taking your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up to look at him while his other hand made its way to the side of your waist, pulling you closer.

“Y/n?” He asked, swiping his thumb across your lips. He may have an unhealthy obsession with them but it didnt matter because in the next few moments he would make them his, “I’m not stupid you know,”

You blinked rapidly, tilting your head to the side at his statement, confused and slightly hurt.

Peter only chuckled, slipping his thumb between your lips for a split second before pulling it back out and resting it back on your plump lip, testing the waters, “I said i noticed you, and when I mean I noticed you,” he leaned forward, placing his lips near your ear, “I meant everything, down to the constant heart eyes,”

You held your breath, not knowing how to feel, what to think. Peter Parker, the Peter Parker, was standing in front of you, playing with your lips with such close proximity, telling you that he was aware of your existence. That there was a chance that he might feel the same way about you.

You had to remind yourself that this was just a bet, that he didn’t mean anything he was saying. He was only doing it because he had to. Even if he was a sweet boy by heart, he still had a reputation for sleeping around, that to him you were just another girl to add to his collection.

But when he pushed his thumb into your mouth, you knew you'd fall victim as well.

“Mhh,” he hummed, “such a good girl, just like i knew you’d be,” suddenly, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and sat back down on the bed, pulling you to straddle his lap, “Now, i believe you have a dare to fulfill,”

“I- uh,” you stuttered, hesitantly placing your hands on his shoulder as you settled into his hold.

“You’ve never done this before, have you princess?” Peter mumbled, hovering his lips over yours.

“i-,” you shook your head, lost for words when he called you princess.

He hummed, one of his hands gripping your waist while the other laided on your cheek, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb, “Let’s start off slow then,” his thumb moved to your mouth once more, playing with the bottom lip. You sat frozen, letting him take control. You didn't trust your body to move, you could barely even talk.

“I’ve always wondered what it was like to kiss these perfect lips,” he whispered, moving to kiss your neck, trailing his way up to the corner of your mouth, “I’d imagine you’ve though the same,”

You nodded, tightening your hold on his shoulders. Peter laughed, his breath hot on your face.

“You’re going to need to say something if you want me to continue princess,”

“Yes,” you squeaked, clearing your throat, embarrassed by your quick response, “Yes, I-uh, I’ve thought about this, yeah,”

“Hmm, good,” he mumbled before finally latching his lips on yours, keeping your face close with his hand.

His lips were rougher that you imagined, probably from constantly licking them for most of the night. But the more you kissed, your mouths opening and closing with each other like its own dance, the more wet and lustful it became. You could feel your body begin to relax into his, melting into the warmth. His confidence only grew with the soft moans escaping your mouth, quickly slipping his tongue inside when your lips parted, exploring your mouth with vigour and purpose.

Your breath hitched in response, using your own tongue to match his movements and tangling it with his, fighting for dominance you were sure he was going to win. Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging at the short curls at the base of his neck, smiling when he groaned into your mouth. You beamed at him when you finally pulled away, a string of spit connected your lips.

“This seems more than just a lap dance,” you let out a shaky sigh, resting your forehead against his.

He chuckled, using his hands to bring your hips closer to his crotch, your dress rolling further up around your waist.

“Then what are you waiting for,” he said cockily, leaning back on his forearms, looking back at you expectantly.

You let out a breath, readjusting yourself on his lap before moving your hips slowly. Your pussy barely made contact with his now hard cock poking through his jeans, teasing it ever once in a while when your panties brushed the tent. You smirked, despite not knowing what the hell you were doing, it seemed like you were doing a decent job.

“Don’t get to cocky princess,” he groaned, squeezing your waist tightly, “You forget that I’m the one in charge here,”

You bit your lip, muttering a soft sorry.

He hummed, nudging his nose with yours, “Let me help you then,”

He grasped your hips, pulling your it closer to his crotch, grinding it against your core. You let him guide you with his hands, following his lead supporting yourself with your own hands clutching on to his shoulder.

He let out a long sigh, his head falling back. You took that as the queue to grind faster, enjoying the effect you had on him with such a simple movement. Your confidence grew with the noises escaping his throat along with the occasional praise only fueling your need.

In a rush of the moment, you moved your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him into a needy kiss. It was much more sloppier and messier than the previous one, your focus more on moving your hips than keeping your lips in sync with his.

But you wanted more. As much as you enjoyed Peter’s eyes trailing your body, his hands exploring your waist and the angelic look on his face, you couldn't help but wonder if it stopped there. If you could make his moans louder, his hips jut against your with need, just as much as you needed him.

After a few more moments, an idea popped into your head with the faint sound of music coming from downstairs.

“Peter,” you decided to purr in your ear, biting your lip when his eyes fluttered open, dark and filled with lust.

“Yes princess,” He cooed, moving his hands back to your waist while keeping eye contact, brushing his lips over yours. But before he could fully kiss you, you pulled away, giggling at the little whine he let out.

“What is it?” he pouted, rolling his eyes when you didn’t respond, only biting your lip in thought. He grabbed your jaw, focussing your gaze back on him, “You were being such a good girl, what happened hmm?”

“I- I have an idea,” you gulped, the confidence you felt seconds ago melting away under his stare, “Do you have a speaker?”

He nodded his head, pointed to a desk in the corner with a small black speaker sitting on top. You smirked, hopping off his lap and running to the box. Peter leaned back on hands, watching with curious eyes as you pulled out your phone from your jacket pocket, tapping it open and typing in your password.

“What’s going through that head of your princess,” he mumbled, but loud enough for you to hear.

You only giggled in response, playing around with the speaker to turn in on. After a few more seconds of fiddling, you spun around with your phone in hand and a teasing smile on your face. Your finger pressed down on the screen, the room filling with the song Love Is A Bitch by Two Feet.

He scoffed, “And here I am thinking you were just an innocent little thing,”

You bit your lip, looking down shyly and placing your phone on the table, your back facing him, “I just wanted to set the mood,”

“Was grinding down on me not enough?” he teased, “Are you always this greedy?”

You let out a breath before turning around, your heart practically beating out of your chest, “Only with you,”

You glanced up at the brunette face, nervous that maybe you took it too far. It was just a simple lap dance, nothing more and nothing less and you should've kept it that way. But the kiss was addicting, keeping you in a daze where all you wanted was more. More of his touch, his mouth, his taste.

You’ve wanted him for so long and now that you dipped your toes in the waters, you wanted to dive in and never come out. What really kept you going was his reactions to your touch, the small grunts and moans escaping his mouth because of you. He wanted this as much as you did or else he would’ve shut you down by now, right?

You were just getting ahead of yourself.

“Come here Y/n,” he almost growled, his eyes never leaving you while you shuffled your way between his legs, yelping when he gripped your waist and pulled you back down. Instead of straddling his waist, he moved you so your legs were on either side of his left thigh.

You went to speak but the gripped your jaw with his forefinger and thumb, forcing your eyes on him.

“You never fail to surprise me princess,” he whispered, his free hand trailing up your waist, brushing past your breasts, “I thought I had to treat you like a good girl, take my time with you” he chuckled darkly, “Turns out you need this just as much as I do, my greedy, desperate little thing,”

You bit your lip, tucking your head in the crook of his neck to avoid his stare. The pet names he gave you was already enough to leave you a mess but adding ‘my’ in front of it made you melt. You wanted to be his, you wanted him to take control of your body and use you as he pleased. He adjusted his thigh, having it bump against your clothed pussy. Heat rose to your face when you let out a small whimper, settling back on his leg, craving the friction but you didn’t move, waiting for specific instructions.

“You weren’t so shy before, what happened?” he kissed the shell of your ear, “Go on princess, ride my thigh like the desperate whore I know you are,”

Without thinking you began to grind your pussy along his thigh, your face growing hotter when you felt the wetness seep on to his jeans. Peter kept his hands on your waist, keeping your movements at his own past, occasionally bouncing his leg, enjoying the little whines you let out. When you started moving faster, he knew you were nearing your high.

“Princess, look at me,” he grunted,“I want to see that pretty face when you cum,”

You let out a shaky sigh, pulling your head up to face him but you could barely keep your head up, too concentrated on moving your hips against the rough fabric of his jeans. He quickly recognised this and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly to get some of your attention.

“Peter,” you whimpered, near to tears with how close you were to climaxing, “Peter please,”

“What is it princess? You want to cum? Is that it?”

You nodded quickly, “Please,”

“Go ahead princess,” he grinned, smashing his lips against your to swallow your moans as you came on his thigh, your hips moving in slow strokes to prolong the feeling. You pulled away after a few moments of feverish kissing, your arms falling limp around his shoulders.

“Fuck,” you sighed, your forehead falling against his with the breathless laugh, “That was-”

“Great? Amazing? The best experience of your life?” he laughed, falling back against the mattress, pulling you down with him. You giggled, shoving your face in his neck and inhaling his comforting scent.

“Yeah,” you turned your head to face him, pouting when a piece of his hair fell in front of his stunning eyes. You moved it out of his face, kissing his nose in the process, “I liked it a lot,”

“That’s good, that’s good,” he whispered, tightening his arms around you.

All of a sudden you felt something poke at the inside of your thigh. It took you a few moments to realise that he was hard and was probably aching to get off at this point in the night.

“Do- do you want me to help?” you said shyly, sitting up on your hands to fully face him.

“You don't have to princess,” his hands passed up and down your waist, “Seeing you fall apart from my thigh is all I needed tonight,”

The twitch of his eye and dryness of his lips told you otherwise.

“Are you sure?” you bit your lip, moving your hand slowly down to his hard on, “because I don’t mind helping Petey,”

You didn’t know where the nickname came from but it was too late to take it back. Judging by the dark look in his eyes and the almost cynical look on his face he didn’t mind.

“You want to help me princess? Are you sure you know what you’re in for?”

You shook your head eagerly, “Just tell me what you want,”

“And what if i want you to suck my cock?”

“I would do it,”

“Do what?”

“Su- suck your cock,” you replied bashfully looking down at your hands now intertwined on his stomach.

“Aww, is my princess getting shy?” he fake pouted, “After getting off on my thigh like a slut, you’re getting shy about taking me in your mouth?”

“I-”

“It’s alright princess i’ll guide you through it,” he reached down to unzip his jeans, shuffling awkwardly to push them down so he could get his member out. You watched as his hard dick slapped against his chest, big and throbbing.

He moved your hips back so that you straddled his legs this time, taking your hand and raising it to your mouth.

“Spit,” he instructed, looking up at you with hunger, “Now,”

You hesitantly spit into your hand, watching in awe as the wad fell into your hand.

“Good girl,” he sighed, moving your hand to wrap your small finger around the base of his cock, “Have you ever jerked someone off princess?”

“Just two,” you respond hesitantly.

Peter gritted his teeth, trying to get the idea of you touching anyone else out of his mind, “Well let's make this your third and final guy hmm?” his breath hitched when you started to move your hand up and down his cock, “You’re mine now princess,”

In the spur of the moment you leaned down, licking the red tip of his member, “Only yours,” you whispered before taking him halfway in your mouth, gagging and pulling yourself back up.

“Take your time princess,” he gulped, “fuck but you could do that again if you’d like though,”

You giggled, licking and kissing the sides of his cock and taking it once more, reaching further than this time than you did the last. You bobbed your head continuously only raising your head to take a breath and going in again.

“Fuck princess, I knew your mouth would be good,” he groaned, “You’re doing so well, taking my cock so good down your throat, fuck!”

You smiled around his length, the back of your throat contracting around the tip making him moan your name. Before he could praise you even more, someone's voice cut his words off.

“Everything alright in there?” MJ said through the door but you were too lost in your daze to answer or recognise her voice.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Peter smirked, pushing you to take the rest of his cock, “We’re just going to take longer than expected,”

...

Part two maybe??

Permanent Taglist : @jadegill @joyleenl @sarcastic-sunset-7@wakeupandsmellthelavender @kaithezaftig @theliterarymess @thirstiestpotato @i-love-superhero @lovewolfspirit @lowkey-holland @miltifandoms1019

Peter Parker Taglist : @ietss @itscaminow @dummiesshort @seutarose @cebaratn16 @lanceyfancypants @clara-licht @sadassflatass @usuck @yeah-seems-legit @lolasm0nst3r

Crossed out means i couldn't tag :(

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #frat!peter #fratboy!peter #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #fratboy!peter paker x reader #marvel smut #marvel imagine #tom holland smut

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lollypopsx · 3 years

Text

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

—————————

Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

—————————

“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands.

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes.

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...”

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys.

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

“You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

—————————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #one shot #hslot #flatmate!harry #roommate!harry #fine line #lollypopsx #fanfic #imagine #request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles fluff

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Clementia

Anniversary Request Special

Description: You’d always had a special place in your heart for Lee Minho even though he gives you countless reasons to hate him. How long will your patience last?

Warning: alcohol, sexual assault

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x Minho

“Y/N—”

“Go away, Minho.”

“Y/N, look at me.”

“I said no!”

“Well I said I’m sorry.”

You snap around to face him. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Lee Minho. You screwed up. You. Screwed. Up. I gave you one request, and you couldn’t even do that.”

“I had my reasons!” he protests.

“Yeah? Well let’s hear them.”

He emits a few noises but can't come up with anything. His face flushes red, but not as red as yours.

“There’s no excuse for breaking someone’s heart ever. Remember that.” You turn on your heels and begin walking away until he says something even more repulsive.

“Why do you care so much? She’s not even your real sister!” he calls after you.

You pause, unable to comprehend how such words could ever enter your ears. You then slowly walk back to him as he stiffens with every step you take.

“Not my real sister?” Your voice is soft, but it is effective.

“I mean—”

“You’re saying the girls at Epsilon Phi aren’t sisters?” Your voice begins to rise. “We’re more sisters than you and I were ever friends, Lee Minho! We love each other more than biological families do, but of course you wouldn’t know how that feels, would you? All you have in your chest is a cold, hard piece of coal!”

You turn away and break off into a run this time. Tears stream down your face from being insulted and betrayed by someone you held with high esteem.

You like Lee Minho. Of course, you’d never admit that. To the world, he is just some kid of your mom’s friend who annoyed you to no end, but through the arguments and time spent trying to prove each other wrong, your feelings grew bit by bit. When he had a relationship with your very own Little, you held in your feelings and wished them both the best. After all, you love both of them, and their happiness together was good enough for you.

That is, until Minho broke things off as nothing but a fling.

Minho has always been a huge flirt, but he’d promised to take her seriously this time. You made him swear it, and you emphasized how much your Little meant to you. Now, because you’re his family friend, your Little won’t even speak to you. Minho had ruined your and her relationship, and evidently yours and his too.

He didn’t used to be like this, all manipulative and amorous. You remember he used to follow you at the heel, caring about nothing more than sticking gum in your hair. It wasn’t until senior year of high school did he start hanging out with random girls and trying daredevilish things. You missed the old Minho, but you thought you’d accept him for all his changes since you did, after all, like him.

Until this moment, that is.

What he did was too much. What he said was too much. You know he is becoming toxic, and if he is going to continue down this path, even your love isn’t going to bring him back to your heart.

Minho watches your waning back then slams his fist against a nearby tree with a curse. You didn’t give him enough time to explain, not that he would have been able to in front of you.

You’d forgive him though, right? You have to. When he messed up before this, Minho could be sure you would. But now, he isn’t so certain. He has never seen you so angry and disappointed before, and he did that to you. Him. Minho lets out another string of curses and trudges back to his room.

He tries making it up to you the very next morning. He shows up to your 8 AM class with a cup of coffee and slides it onto your desk before sitting down himself.

You don’t even look at him. You just take the cup and slam it down in front of him, causing its contents to spill and burn your fingers. He quickly takes your hand in his and begins wiping it with his sleeve, but you recoil your arm and take out your own napkin.

The next place he tries is at your neighboring frat party. He knows you would be there, so he wears his tightest black jeans and a loose button-up. This trick has worked with other girls, so he hopes it would on you.

He takes the dance floor with his powerful dance moves and charisma. He can see you deliberately turned away from him and chatting with someone else, so he dances towards you. The cheering circle that has formed around him moves as well, engulfing you into the crowd.

You finally turn to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. Minho takes this chance to shoot you a wink which draws the crowd’s attention to you. They cheer and push you towards him despite your protests.

Minho takes your arm and leads you in the dance. You used to like dancing with him; your and his flow matches perfectly, and the two of you could revive a dying party just by dancing together. Today though, you just aren’t having it.

Minho puts a hand on your shoulder and scoops his hips low earning a cheer from the crowd. You can hear them calling your name, anticipating your response. You look down at Minho and immediately recognize his choice of clothing.

I wonder who’s going to have her heart broken tomorrow, you think with a dry laugh. Minho flinches, recognizing that sound. You take his falter as a chance to fling his arm off of you before walking away.

A chorus of oohs fills the room, and the crowd splits like the Red Sea for you.

You hear your name from his lips again. “Y/N!” It is more strained now than it was last night. Desperate. Defeated.

You gave him some thought after hearing the sincerity in his tone, but you are glad you did not turn around that night when you see him in class with some other girl on his lap. Whatever. He’s dead to you now, so why should you care what he’s doing?

Minho watches as you walk farther and farther from him. He pushes the girl off and continues to stare with narrowed eyes at you as you greet your new seat neighbors.

This isn’t how he predicted you would react. Truthfully, he kind of knew this attempt wouldn’t work. For one, it hadn’t worked once since he first tried it in high school. He thought hanging out with other girls would make him more attractive, more desirable by competition. At least, that’s what some then-college kids told him. Once he started, he just found himself unable to stop. It was a self-feeding cycle, really. Holding onto other girls and charming them numbs the void in his chest, but you ignore him whenever he acts like this which only further widens the gap.

What is he to do though? This is the only life he knows, and so, it is the life he leads. Not all love stories can end happily.

And his sure doesn’t seem like it is going to.

Sirens wail in the background. With the amount of girls he’s fooled around with, he kind of had it coming. Minho stares at his wrists, not daring to think, but one thought keeps recurring in his mind: you. He is going to disappoint you yet again. You already hate him, and now you are going to see him handcuffed too.

The cold wind makes him shiver when you, his emergency contact, open the door and step into the station. Your eyes immediately find him, and you make your way over.

“Y/—”

“Are you hurt?” you ask plainly.

Despite your icy tone, those three simple words fill him with a warmth he hasn’t known for a long time.

“I’m okay.” His hands reach forward, wanting to grab yours and keep you with him, but you’ve already walked away to announce your arrival to an officer.

“Miss L/Y Y/N?” a young official greets a little too enthusiastically. She looks familiar, you note.

“Yes, I am she.”

The officer looks pleased by your annoyed attitude towards the defendant. “Mister Lee is here tonight because of an accusation by Miss Choi of assault,” she informs you coyly.

You look at him. “Minho,” you said with a chilled voice. “Is it true?”

“No! Y/N, I wouldn’t—”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“Excuse me?” the officer sputters.

“I believe him,” you repeat. “He’s been going out with more people than I have fingers, but he never laid a finger on them.”

“But Y/N, that doesn’t mean he can’t start now,” the officer protests. “You’re his contact, but you hate him now. Surely, he’s changed”

“First of all, it’s Miss L/N to you, Officer” —you read her name tag and pieces begin to fall together from her eagerness to convict Minho to the inkling you felt the moment you saw her— “Yoo. And secondly, is it not against the law for you to be working on a case where your cousin’s the accuser?”

“How did you—!”

“Nothing escapes us Epsilon Phi sisters, even news from other sororities. Besides, Minho never plays with the same girl twice. As expected, this report is filed for an incident two months ago. You, Officer Yoo, knew I was his contact and waited for us to get into yet another fight before having your cousin put in the accusation, didn’t you?”

She scoffs in your face. “That’s a bold accusation from yourself towards law enforcement.”

“Where is the accuser right now? Shouldn’t she be here for interrogation as well?”

“Well she—” the officer looks increasingly flustered. “She needs rest after having to relive the memories of what happened. We’ll call her in tomorrow. Anyway, Mr. Lee Minho, I can hear your testimony now in room #3.”

Minho stands obediently.

“Wait. I request someone else interrogate him,” you object.

“We’re busy right now,” Officer Yoo huffs. “We can’t just let you choose who does the job.”

You cross your arms. “Sure. Interrogate him and have the entire case be nulled after I file a conflict of interest.”

Officer Yoo grits her teeth but returns to her station to call for another officer.

In the meantime, you turn to Minho. “Don’t answer anything you don’t want to, especially if they start leading you on with questions. It’s in your rights to remain silent, alright?”

Minho nods numbly at your words, still confused as to why you are so nice to him. Before he can figure it out though, an older man appears from the back and takes him to an interrogation room.

“Mr. Lee Minho?”

“Yes.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Chief Jeon. I’m just going to ask you a few questions today; is that alright?”

“Yes.”

The chief nods and pulls out some papers. “Would you mind describing what happened with Miss Choi?”

“Well I was with—” he gestures towards the papers with his accuser’s name on it— “and we were hitting it off. She bought me a couple of drinks and at some point leaned in to kiss me. I realized something at that point, and I stopped her. She got angry, saying how she spent all that cash on alcohol for me, and threatened to accuse me of assault if I didn’t do what she said, but I knew I couldn’t do it.”

“Because of what you realized?” the chief repeats.

“... Yes.”

“And what was it you realized?”

“Do I have to say it?”

“According to the law, no, but if it can help you with your case, you might want to.”

Minho fidgets with his cuffs. “They can’t hear me from outside, right?”

“No. They most certainly cannot.”

And so, Minho tells him.

Minho turns around while the metal bars clang shut behind him. The chief thinks he has a pretty good chance, but due to the gravity of the accusation, they still decided to keep Minho in holding to give the accuser more time to make her case.

You stare at him from the other side, arms crossed. Minho takes the fact that you’re still here at two in the morning as a good sign for him.

“Thanks for being here,” he tries to start a conversation.

“I didn’t really have a choice.” So cold.

“I’ll change my emergency contact.”

“Please do.”

He winces. “Look… Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for insulting your sisterhood and for hurting your Little. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

He looks at you with those doe-like eyes of his. For once, you don’t feel anything while looking back at them.

“That’s not why I’m mad anymore. In fact, I’m not even mad,” you tell him. “My Little told me what really happened. She told me that she was actually the one who dumped you after you adamantly refused to kiss her. I asked some other girls you’ve seen and they all said the same thing. That’s why I was so confident with the officer earlier. I guess I owe you an apology for getting angry when you weren’t at fault.”

“Then”—he holds out a hand sheepishly— “truce?”

You look at it but keep your arms crossed. “Taking a step back from you has made me see things I wasn’t able to before, Minho, and that’s made me realize how much you’ve changed. You were my friend, my rival— someone who never failed to get on my nerves but also someone I couldn’t go without. But now” —you drop your arms and shake your head— “I can’t even recognize you anymore.”

You take a step back to leave. You’ve done this many times before, like when he stuck a plastic spider down your shirt or when he called you stupid in front of your crush in fifth grade, but something about this time feels different. Something about this time tells him you aren’t turning back around once you left.

A sudden despair grips Minho and he runs into the bars. “Wait!”

You pause, offering him one last second.

“Your Little,” he gasps, “did she tell you why I wouldn’t kiss her?”

You nod. “The others I asked did too. They said you were thinking about some other girl while you were with them.”

“Not ‘some other’ girl. One other girl.”

“I know.” You begin to walk again.

“Then why are you leaving?” He reaches a hand out, trying to grab any part of you. “Stay with me. Please, Y/N, stay.”

You don’t pause a second time. Out of desperation, he cries out, “Y/N, I love you!”

That makes you stop midstep. He holds his breath as you put one foot back then the other next to it to face him. You are so beautiful when you look at him. He melts under your gaze as you focus on him and only him. He’ll cherish you this time when you give him another chance. He’ll quit this playboy lifestyle. He won’t take advantage of your patience anymore. He’ll give you all that his heart has to offer. He’ll make sure you’re the only one in his eyes. He’ll love you. He loves you.

“Minho.” You relax your shoulders and straighten your back. You tilt your head just slightly forward and erase the edge off your tone. “I loved you.”

#lee minho #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fic #minho fic #lee know fic #stray kids imagine #lee know imagine #minho imagine #stray kids angst #lee know angst #skz #enemies to lovers #fem reader #2nd anniversary special #20210815

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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If I Fell For You (Part 12) - Not So Sweet Home

Summary: Jensen is fed up with his parents ignoring Y/N all day and when he gets a moment alone, blows up on them like never before. The reader sees how upset Jensen is over what’s happening and does her best to defend him while still trying to salvage a relationship with them...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,200ish

Warnings: language, major family angst, mention of a dead parent

A/N: Eek! If you like angst this part is for you! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was late, the kids asleep in the guest bedroom, Jensen’s siblings and their families gone home for the evening aside from his brother. He made some half ass excuse about wanting to hang out with Jensen more but you knew he could sense what you did. Jensen was getting close to popping after a whole day of politeness on his part and his parents ignoring you on theirs.

Jensen was bouncing his knee like crazy as he sipped on his beer around a gas fire pit, suddenly stopping when you shifted in your seat.

“Maybe you ought to cool it with the alcohol tonight,” said his dad. Jensen set his empty bottle down on the grass and breathed deeply through his nose. “Your legs been-”

“Y/N, would you get me another beer please?” asked Jensen. You took the opportunity to get out of there, surprised when the back door opened quickly after you, his brother closing it behind him.

“I don’t think your parents like me very much,” you said, going to the fridge and pulling out a drink.

“I know,” he said, glancing out the dark window. “Jensen asked me to make sure you don’t come back out there.”

“He’s gonna go off on them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing,” he said with a sigh. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well. You guys can crash at my place if you want. We don’t have a guest room but we have an air mattress we can put in the family room.”

“You think it’ll be that bad?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Then why are we in here talking about this when we should be out there making sure he doesn’t say something he regrets in the morning.”

“You might hear things you can’t unhear,” he said.

“Right now my concern isn’t if my feelings get hurt. He’s really upset and I need him to be okay.”

“You know that’s why the rest of us like you, don’t you? You care about him, the kids. You’re in love with him.”

“Yes I am,” you said as he nodded.

“You call me if either of you ever need anything,” he said, going back to the door. You nodded and took a deep breath, following him outside and already hearing raised voices.

“She’s half your age, Jensen,” said his mom. “She was your nanny. Sweetie you have to know what’s going on here.”

“You’re getting played,” said his father, catching you walking out with Josh.

“She is not half my age. She’s thirty fucking years old! She’s a goddamn adult and been through more shit then both of you put together! She’s not after fucking money,” snapped Jensen who was already out of his seat.

“You’re engaged to the girl after five months!” said his father. “It took you years to propose the first time around!”

“Because I was a nervous kid that was away working constantly. I didn’t want to make Dee stay if it was gonna make her unhappy. I’m not afraid of how I feel anymore because I feel the same about her as I do Dee and I’m not wasting my time so I can stick to your socially acceptable schedule,” said Jensen. “I love her and she’s gonna be part of this family whether you like it or not. Deal with it.”

“You need a prenup,” said his dad.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! You’ve known the girl for not even six months!”

“She’s not up to anything!” shouted Jensen.

“Son-”

“Have you ever lost your wife? Have you ever been in the car and almost die yourself while you watch her breathe for the last time? Where she’s hurt and you can’t do a thing to fix it? Have you ever had to tell your children their mother is dead and she’s not coming back? You have no idea, no idea, what that does to you, how much it hurts and how much it hurts when you’re still so fucked up and your parents start making comments behind closed doors about you and you have to pretend you’re better when you’re really not. When you don’t even care about yourself anymore, when you pretend for everyone’s sake so they stop treating you like a child, when you don’t know how to tell your kids it’s okay because it’s not. It’s not. Until you go through that, until you know how bad it hurts, don’t assume a damn thing about her. She’s my best friend and she makes me feel like my old self again. I laugh and smile and have fun and when I get scared or feel guilty or freak out she makes me feel better. I don’t give a fuck how old she is or what her job was. She’s kind and good and she deserves better than you two. Danneel’s parents like her. Jared’s parents like her. Her old foster dad’s family likes her. Our family likes her except for you two. Get your heads out of your asses or you can not even bother letting me know you exist anymore. I’m done with things hurting the women I care about. I couldn’t stop what happened to Dee but I can sure as hell keep Y/N away from the two of you,” said Jensen. He huffed and walked off, Josh running off after him.

“Well congratulations. You got your hooks in him deep, don’t you,” said his father. You rolled your eyes and his mother scoffed.

“You can take care of someone without treating them like a child you know. He’s an incredibly strong person. If you don’t like me fine. But don’t call him stupid or easily manipulated or imply that it’s wrong to know you love someone after only a certain amount of time. I love your son.”

“You love his money,” said his mom.

“I do just fine on my own,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “He’s staying at Josh’s house tonight. We’ll pick up the kids in the morning.”

“He’s overreacting. He’ll be fine in the morning,” said his dad. You crossed your arms and leaned your head back. “He’ll be fine.”

“You two don’t know a thing about me and you assume I want money because of my age and my former career. Don’t assume your son will be fine and get over it.”

“We’ve known him a lot longer than you have. He’ll get over it after a night’s rest.”

“You may have known him longer and I’m sure in some regards you do know him better but not the ones that matter. If you did, you would have seen how much he would have loved for the two of you to like me. I would have taken some respect and been happy because trust me, I get how this looks to everyone else. I understand you have fears and I’m not mad you have them. I’m mad you assume those are facts when all they are is a story you made up in your head you don’t want to change. He’s right, I’m not going anywhere. The difference between him and me though is that I’ll stay out here all damn night with the two of you until you get it through your heads that I’m not here to fuck him over. I love him. I don’t have family, not really. Things have always been screwed up for me pretty much until I met him and he didn’t have to say it for me to know that he was hoping he could share the two of you with me. Maybe I was hoping for that too. But right now I’ll take some goddamn respect and an apology to your son to start and we can go from there.”

“You’re gonna curse at us and expect an apology?” said his mom. “We know you took him when he was at his low and tricked him into trusting you so you could get exactly what you wanted.”

“You know what I want? What I’ve always wanted and somehow always seems to get ripped away? A family. A stupid fucking family. Being a nanny? That let me feel like part of the family. I could pretend I was like all of those people I worked for. Nice and normal and like people gave a shit. Some kindness and a family is all I’ve ever wanted. You two...you wouldn’t have survived a day in my childhood. In my adulthood with the shitty ex boyfriend and the crappy friends and I picked myself over all of them because my mom told me to stand up for myself. Even when she couldn’t be there and I wanted her to. So I stand up for myself and now I stand up for him and those three kids to anyone and I mean anyone, that hurts them. He’s my family and those kids are my family. I don’t know what you think I’m gonna do but I guarantee the only thing I will do is tell you two where to shove it and to leave him the hell alone.”

“Why would we believe anything you say? At all?” his dad asked. “It’s probably the same sad story you told him to get him on the line. I don’t buy it.”

“I have a million dollar book deal. I’ve worked rent free for a lot of rich people since I was eighteen years old. Do I sound like someone who needs his money?” you said. You put your hands on your hips and shook your head. “What is it? You want me to sign a prenup? I would but he doesn’t want one. He trusts me and for a guy that lost his wife and had to work through falling in love with another person, I respect that. He knows what he wants and he’s not wasting time. This is scary for him. It’s scary for me. But when Dee’s parents gave me open arms and kindness and their blessing, the last people I ever expected to disapprove were you two. If you’re going to stand there and keeping calling me a liar, I’m going to find your sons and I’m going take care of Jensen instead of wasting my time here.”

“We don’t disapprove of him moving on and marrying again,” said his mom as you turned to walk away.

“Could have fooled me,” you said.

“He’s going too fast and he doesn’t know you either, not well enough to make a decision like that,” said his dad. You turned around and smiled.

“He knows my favorite color. He knows what my favorite flavor of ice cream is. He knows why I have nightmares and he knows how to make me forget them in the first place. I’m sorry we aren’t doing things on your schedule but it’s his life. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with it, whether that’s me or somebody else. For the record, he knows me just fine. Oh and if this is how you plan on speaking to him again in the morning, I’ll pick up the kids myself.”

“We’re looking out for his best interest,” said his dad.

“No, you think you’re looking at his wallet for him. See money? People think that’s important and it is but best interest? It ain’t that shit,” you said as you started to leave.

“Well what do you assume his best interest is then?” said his mom.

“Treating him like an adult. He is smart and strong and the most emotionally healthy man I’ve ever met which considering all the fucked up shit he’s been through and felt the past year is really saying something. He’s your child but he’s not a child. He found someone he loves and all he wanted to do was share me with you. This was his worst nightmare and I couldn’t stop it. So if you’re not gonna even try with me, then I’m gonna protect him from you.”

“He doesn’t need protecting from us,” he said.

“You call him stupid and that he can’t take care of himself, that he can be fooled and that the person he thinks is his best friend really only wants him for his money. He knows none of those things are true but it’s what you said to him when you said that about me. For a man who went through what he did, it wasn’t mean. It was cruel. I’m gonna go fix what I can of your relationship with him because despite all that, I know you guys love each other and I’m not letting that get fucked up because you think whatever the hell you think about me.”

You stormed off around the house and found Josh’s truck still there but neither man in sight. You looked around and heard a sniffle, your head going up to the roof. You saw the lattice work on the side and climbed up, peeking your head up to spot the two of them sat on the roof.

“Hey,” you said quietly. Jensen wouldn’t look at you, Josh rubbing his back.

“Careful,” he said as you climbed up and slowly walked over. You took a seat on your bottom, spotting the window behind them. “That was my room. Jensen used to sneak out this way. I was always too nervous of getting caught to try myself. You landed the bad boy of the family.”

“Oh yeah, such a bad boy,” you said. You scooted closer on your butt to him, Jensen resting his head on his knees. “Hey. Before you even think about it don’t say you’re sorry.”

“I know,” he said. He took a deep breath but looked up, looking fairly normal aside from a slightly pink nose. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nobody was,” said Josh. “I’ll give you guys a minute. I’ll be in my car when you’re ready.”

“You should go home,” said Jensen. “Staying in a different house won’t change anything.”

“That was kinda fucked up what they said.” Jensen raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “I don’t always agree with them. If you guys want to stay, that’s your choice but I’m not going home without telling them what a mistake they’re making.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re my little brother and I like her. Even if I didn’t, they’re being assholes and she doesn’t deserve that. You don’t. Alright?”

Jensen nodded and Josh walked off to the lattice and climbed down while you scooted next to Jensen.

“You thought your siblings weren’t gonna like me,” you said.

“He’s a good person. He’s never told off our parents before so...I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not.”

“He’s a good big brother,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t love you for your family though. I don’t care if your parents don’t like me. I’ll deal with it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I still like your dad so much better than mine,” you said.

“Yours is a monster to be fair.”

“Yeah, he is. Yours love you and I don’t agree with them but in their minds, they’re protecting you and I don’t have a problem with anyone trying to do that.”

“How are you so fucking kind to them after they basically said you’re with their dumbass son because of money?”

“Like you said, I know monsters. I know toxic and bad. They aren’t it. They raised you and I really, really like you. Good people can be stupid and still be good. In the morning we’ll try again.”

“What if I can’t get them to change their minds?” he said quietly.

“Jensen,” you said, moving to squat down in front of him. You grabbed his cheeks and he stared at you. “You don’t have to pick anybody over anybody. Maybe I won’t be close with them but that’s okay. It’s so okay. We’ll respect each other or just won’t talk to each other and we’ll figure it out but we don’t have to do it all tonight.”

“I think what bothers me the most is they’ve already made up their minds about you based on your age when they don’t even realize who you are. They don’t see that this is the kind of person you are, kind and supportive and I heard you not taking their bullshit. You’re a stronger person than I am and I wish they could see that the reason I’m not freaking out over this is cause I know you’re my partner and you got my back like I got yours. I’m just having a hard time understanding why they won’t even listen to us.”

“I don’t know,” you said, eyes darting to the window when you caught some movement inside. You narrowed them and glanced down, spotting the crack between the windowsill and frame. “I’m a little cool. I’m gonna get my sweatshirt if that’s okay.”

“Careful climbing in,” he said, turning on his bottom and pushing the window up. You kissed his cheek and climbed inside, the room empty as far as you could tell. You stepped out to the hall and into his old room, getting your hoodie, his old hoodie. You pulled it on but went downstairs, catching his parents in the kitchen with Josh.

“Josh may I speak to your parents in private,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m done here. I’ll be over for brunch, okay?” he said. He walked past you and caught your arm. “Call me if you need me back.” You nodded and he kissed your temple before he went out.

“Were you eavesdropping on us?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“We went to tell him to get off the roof. We could see him from the backyard up there,” said his mom, putting her back to you as she mixed up something in a mug. “But we heard the three of you talking and then the two of you. We didn’t mean-”

“We are all on the same side. His side. We should get along. It shouldn’t be this difficult and I don’t appreciate private conversations being listened in on. But I hope you understand that you hurt your son. I know you didn’t mean to and it’s the last thing you’d ever want to do to him. But you did. So please try to help me fix this. This isn’t easy for me to accept that you don’t like me either but you’re gonna respect me. If we can respect each other, then he’s not going to worry as much at least. Please promise that we can agree to that,” you said. His parents looked at each other and you sighed. “You have to be kidding me. What do you want me to do? Go away? I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“That’s not...Jensen called your father a monster up there,” he said.

“I thought it was a sob story according to you ten minutes ago.”

“You said you don’t have parents. He said your father is alive.”

“What’s your point, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Please enlighten me.”

“It doesn’t make much sense to tell different stories,” he said.

“You can’t even give me the benefit of the doubt that I love your son. Why the fuck would I tell you things only he knows, things so few people know about. Why would I trust you with the worst parts of my life when you don’t accept the best ones. For your information, my birth mother is dead. My adoptive mother is dead. I wish my son of a bitch father was dead. The only glimmer of a parent I have maybe, maybe was my foster father. That was until last weekend. I met some parents. I met Dee’s. I met Jared’s. I got the same message from all of them. Let us know if you ever need anything. Oh the way he looks at you. You must be pretty special. Anything at all, you give us a call. People that don’t even have an obligation to look in my direction treated me like I was their kid. So maybe he and I both got our hopes up with you two and that was on us. If you want to pick apart what I’ve said and call me a liar…” you said, putting your hands on your hips. Your shut your eyes and breathed deeply, turning around. “I don’t care if you have to pretend to respect me. Just do it for his sake and the kids sakes, alright?”

A tissue appeared over your shoulder and you took it, blowing your nose and stepping away.

“When did your mother’s pass?” you heard behind you. You threw your head back and took a deep breath.

“When I was born and when I was sixteen,” you said, turning around and swallowing. “Why does that matter?”

“When were you adopted?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“Please.”

“I was eight,” you said.

“So you only had your mother for eight years then,” he said.

“Yeah. She got sick when I was fourteen. I stayed with her boyfriend until I moved out for my first nanny job at eighteen. It was all very sad and angsty,” you said.

“Who made the first move?”

“I’m done with this interrogation,” you said. You started to leave but he stepped in front of you. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to know who made the first move, you or Jensen.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off. “We had a fight. I told him I didn’t want him to be my friend anymore, he was just my boss and that was it. We couldn’t hang out at night and stuff anymore.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want him to hurt me,” you said quietly. “I didn’t fit with his life. I’m not a pretty actress. I’m not smart. I’m the younger nanny and that’s all I was gonna be until I became an older nanny and that was supposed to be my life. I didn’t ask for…”

“For what?” asked his mother, carrying over her mug and setting it down on the end table.

“I didn’t ask for him to love me. But he did and I don’t know why but I trusted him not to hurt me. It’s not fairytales and roses all day every day but I like having a best friend and I never would have submitted those books to a publisher without him encouraging me and I need him to feel better. He can’t catch a break lately and I hate seeing him upset. It makes me sick to my stomach and I really, really need him to be okay so please stop doing this. Just stop. Please. I don’t care if we have to pretend the rest of our lives but please, I can’t keep seeing him take hit after hit anymore and not being able to stop it.”

You weren’t expecting the hug from his father or to bury your face in his chest for a brief moment. His mom guided you to sit on the couch, pulling a blanket around you. She handed you the mug and you saw it was hot chocolate, your eyes darting back and forth between them.

“This isn’t about to be like a lifetime movie where you murder me, right?” you said.

“No,” said his mom as she sat next to you. “We hurt you quite deeply today, didn’t we.”

You stared at the mug, holding it in your hands.

“You were looking forward to meeting us,” said his dad as he sat down on your other side.

“It doesn’t matter. All I care about is him.”

“I don’t think he’d be very happy with you laying down for a semblance of normalcy for him,” he said.

“Just spit out whatever the fuck you want,” you said. You gripped the mug and shut your eyes.

“I’d like you to stop swearing please,” he said. “In exchange, maybe we can have a second chance.”

“Second chance at what?” you said dryly.

“At meeting our son’s fiance.” You lifted your head and stared at him, catching a bashful look you saw in Jensen every so often. “We understand, as well as we can, he was hurt after Danneel. We can’t fix those problems like when he would scrape his knees. We knew he was in a vulnerable position and things between the two of you seemed so fast for how in pain he was. We thought of the worst of you before knowing you and that wasn’t right of us. We were trying to protect him. But like you said, we all try to do that. So if you’ll let us, give us a second chance.”

“For him, I will give you both a second chance,” you said. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but this sort of thing isn’t going to go away just like that, for him or for me.”

“Is there anything…” said his mom as you shook your head. “We are sorry for before. Truly.”

“I know. Trust is difficult for me on a normal day. You guys kinda tore through the safety nets I thought I had with you. I need to build them up again is all.”

“That was you that said that, people have safety nets,” she said. You raised and eyebrow and she sighed. “Jensen, months back, he told us his therapist told him that, put things in perspective.”

“I guess couple’s are kinda each other’s therapists,” you said. “Sometimes they just need to vent to each other too.”

“Before you said...has he ever been to one?” asked his dad.

“Last weekend was...intense. I went to one as a child and he talked to him for a little while, helped him put things in perspective,” you said.

“Intense? Did you fight?” she asked.

“He and JJ got stung by a scorpion. It was a little serious. We went out the next night and I made a comment and he took it a different way and he got upset thinking I thought of myself as being less in his eyes than Dee was. I know it’s not true, it’s just different. He’s been having a really great week aside from today.”

You took a sip of the hot chocolate and went back for more, drinking half the mug down.

“We screwed up,” said his dad with a sigh, sitting back against the couch.

“Yeah but he’ll forgive you,” you said. “This is really good Mrs. Ackles.”

“Thank you sweetie and call me Donna. I made it for Jensen. He’s always liked it when he was living here and having a bad day.”

“Why do you think he’ll forgive us?” asked his dad as Donna got up.

“Because he’s Jensen. He’s not an angry man. Angry in moments but he doesn’t hold onto anger. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. So I know he’ll forgive you. When I’m not sure of but it won’t be forever.”

“Have you two ever fought badly?” he asked.

“We’ve had a few fights. Mostly small and when we’re both tired or hungry. We had a big one a few weeks ago when he got home but we talked about why it happened and how to make sure it doesn’t again,” you said. Donna carried over a kettle and poured more hot chocolate in your mug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don't ask about fights Alan. It’s not our business. We should let them tell us what they want,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

“They probably should have had a big fight at least once to know if they can work through those things and it sounds like they have,” he said when he turned to you. “I know you’re probably love struck but marriage? That’s a lifetime of putting in the work.”

“Alan if I didn’t care about putting in the work I wouldn’t be down here right now. I know I don’t know everything I’m signing up for and no one really does but I know him and the kids and that’s worth the parts I have to work at.”

“You sound older than you look.”

“Age doesn’t always equal life experience,” you said.

“I suppose not,” he said. He stood and took a deep breath. “I do apologize for thinking the worst of you and not giving you a fair chance upfront.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m going to bring this up and check on him.”

“Can I ask one last thing?” asked his dad. You nodded and he looked over to Donna who gave him a short nod. “Josh said you really love him.”

“I do.”

“Do you think he loves you the same way?”

“I know he does,” you said.

“How are you so sure?”

“How are you so sure your wife loves you?” you said. “Goodnight Alan.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his mom catching up with you in the foyer where the stairs were. You gave her a tired smile and she nodded.

“If I told you something, would you keep it a secret from Jensen?” she asked.

“No,” you said with a smile.

“I had to try,” she said. “We’re not like this by nature. Something happened he doesn’t know about when he was recovering that put us off to you. A woman. A young woman at his physical therapy.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly. She took a seat on a step and you sat beside her. “If someone tried to take advantage of him, you should have told me and him. He thinks you guys have gone nuts, no offense.”

“You’ll find with time you’d rather have your child safe and upset at you than the other way around,” she said.

“What happened?”

“We moved down to the house for a few months to help Jensen. He went to physical therapy. A very good place. A family friend works there and got him in and he regained a lot of strength in his leg quickly because of it. There were nurses that often helped and he worked with a few regularly and they develop a relationship and all that. It’s good for morale and healing we were told. One of these girls was about your age and our family friend overheard her gossiping to a friend on the phone during a lunch break.”

“Gossiping about…” you said. “Jensen?”

“They saw an opportunity to manipulate him. He is smart, smarter than the both of us together, but he was going through the motions that first month. She made him smile a bit. She flirted with him. Our friend told us what she’d said and we realized, he could be hurt again. Taken advantage of for what he has, what he can offer. His sudden shift in mood this year, introducing you as a fiance, made us think we’d failed to protect him this time.”

“Why not tell him that?” you asked.

“And tell him he was being manipulated back then? He’s so adamant that it can’t happen to him but we know different.”

“I think you should tell him, Donna. It makes your reaction today seem not so…” you said, her head shaking.

“Ma,” you both heard. You looked over your shoulders, Jensen sat against the wall at the top of the landing. “Mom. Jerry told me why I got a new nurse when it happened. She was nice, or was pretending to be, I don’t know. But I didn’t like her. I never got manipulated and I was never going to.”

“How long-” you said, Jensen rubbing the back of his neck. “You heard everything.”

“Yup,” he said, popping his p, his dad coming over to the bottom of the stairs and staring up. “I don’t want to talk to either of you right now. Y/N, I’d like to go to bed, please.”

“Accept their apology Jensen. You can hash out the rest of this in the morning but accept that they know they were in the wrong,” you said.

“Why should I?” he asked, cocking his head.

“We both got hurt out of their love for you. They are not monsters and I know the difference,” you said. “You know too.”

“Will you two ever look at me the same again,” said Jensen, staring at the landing.

“Honey it was a fight. It’ll be alright,” said his mom, his head shaking.

“Ever since I woke up in the hospital, you two look at me like I’m a kid. Like I’m weak and defenseless. But I’m not. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and this whole day could have been avoided if you treated me like your adult son, not the kid who fell off his bike and cries over a cut. I needed you two to take over, I did, I honestly did after the accident. I couldn’t take care of myself let alone the kids. But you haven’t stopped thinking I can take care of me again. I can. I do. I know I’m your kid but let me be an adult again. Trust me. Please.”

“Come here,” you said, holding out your hand. He slid down the steps and you stood up and aside, letting him get a hug from his mom and then dad.

“We’re sorry,” said his dad.

“I know,” said Jensen quietly. “Never do something like that again. Ever.”

“We won’t,” he said. You leaned against the wall and sipped on the hot chocolate, Jensen’s nose twitching.

“That’s my cocoa,” he said, turning his head up at you.

“I just Jerry Springer’ed ya’ll. I get the cocoa. Get your own,” you said. He smiled and you gave it right back, his parents pulling off and bringing him to his feet.

“Come here,” said his dad as his mom dragged him off towards the kitchen with the promise of hot chocolate. You stepped down until you were about his height and took a drink, licking your lips when you finished. “How do you just let that go? You were so angry before.”

“I’ve been to therapy. I have good diffusing skills,” you said.

“Is that a joke?”

“Not really,” you said with a smile. “You made a mistake because you love him. I’m gonna make mistakes because I love him. So when I screw up, now you owe me one, deal?”

“I know it’s getting late but would you be willing to stay up a while longer, maybe find out that favorite color?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, stepping down.

“Depends on the day,” said Jensen, stepping out with a mug of his own.

“He’s right,” you said. “You okay to stay up a bit?”

He nodded and walked back to the family room, taking your hand.

“Better?” you whispered to him.

“Yeah. Not all the way but definitely better honey.”

It was warm when you woke up the next morning. You peeled open an eye and caught Jensen laying awake, staring at his ceiling. You kicked off the blankets and he reached an arm out, pulling you to lay on his chest.

“It’s hot in here,” you mumbled, eyes shutting again.

“There’s a box covering the vent,” he said, dancing his fingers lazily over your bare arm. “It’s almost noon.”

“Seriously?” you said into his chest, nuzzling against his soft skin.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re out back with the kids,” he said. You nodded and felt him move his fingers all over you, soft and light, absentmindedly tracing patterns every so often.

“Still upset?” you asked, his head nodding. “They’re human. They fuck up.”

“Are you angry?”

“I was. Not anymore. I kinda like ‘em actually.”

“Why would you give them a second chance?” he asked.

“When I got adopted I didn’t like, instantly love my mom. I was scared of her at first. I don’t know, I get that you can not like someone at first and then love them unconditionally, you know? It’s weird but your opinions can change once you get to know someone.”

“I don’t do a very good job of protecting you from things,” he said, tilting his head, moving a few hairs behind your ear. You looked up at him, his fingers playing in your hair behind you.

“Honey you went off on your parents last night. I bet you’ve never done that to them. You were trying to protect me and you did. No one has ever protected me the way you do,” you said. “Today is a new day and I’d like to get to know my new family some more.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll follow your lead.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 13 here!

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