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#also just last lesson she was saying that we’re a really good group and she’s happy with us and whatever etc etc
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AITA for telling the teacher I made a group project all by myself which made my classmates get a worse grade?
Background: im 16F and in eleventh grade, im in a new school which is only for eleventh and twelfth grade. So my whole class was all people who didn’t know each other. This happened in the first few weeks of school. Also english isnt my first language and I’m a very shy person.
We got the task from our English teacher in our first English lesson to make a presentation and poster. She choose our groups and we just sat together for like two minutes and then the lesson was over and I completely forgot who I was in a group with because I didn’t yet know anyone’s names. We had to do the presentation three weeks later so I figured in that time someone else would reach out to the group so I don’t really need to know who was in my group.
No one else reached out for a week and the teacher was sick for the next week so I couldn’t ask her who was in my group. So we now only have less than two weeks left to do the project.
I send a message in the class group chat asking who’s in my group. No one answers. A few hours later i send a message again and no one answers again.
So I decide, ok, im just gonna start this by myself and the others can help later I guess. So I get a big piece of paper, do some research, print pictures etc… I also message the group chat with pictures of what I’m doing.
We are now at the weekend before the presentation is supposed to be on Thursday and I still don’t know who’s in my group. A different classmate sends a message in the group chat to ask who’s in her group, and someone replies to her with some names, including MY name.
So I finally know my group and I make a group chat with just us and ask them about ideas and if they could maybe write some texts for the poster and what part of the presentation they want to do. No one answers. I keep doing the poster alone and send pictures. I don’t get more back than „looks good“ and „👍“.
Now we’re at the day before the presentation. I have a finished poster and I’m writing the last part of the text while sitting at the kitchen table. My sister is sitting there too and doing homework. I’m complaining about how I did the whole thing by myself and the others completely ignored my messages. She says I should just say to the teacher that I did it all alone. I don’t really want to do that, but frustrated as I am I write on the back of the poster „100% (my name)‘s work“, kinda as a joke, and actually planning to erase it later, but I forget to erase it.
It’s Thursday, we do our presentation as the last group before the break. The others read the texts I wrote. We don’t get our grades told yet but it’s not a bad presentation.
After the lesson we change rooms and I stay behind for some reason I don’t remember, when the teacher wants to talk to me because she saw that writing on the back of the poster and she asks if I really did the poster by myself. I say yes because it’s true and it literally is written there so how am I supposed to lie. She also notices that the texts everyone read (she collected those too) are all in my hand writing. So it’s clear to her I did the whole thing alone.
A week later we get told what grades we got. I have a 1 (best grade) while the other group members have a 4 (barely passing). They ask why and the teacher says they would have gotten a 6 (worst grade) but they at least did the oral presentation. She explains that I told her I prepared the presentation all alone, and then not just my group but the whole class erupted and called me an asshole and worse things until I actually started to cry and no one talked to me for weeks. The other people in my group said to the teacher and the class that I told them I wanted to do the project alone, which I didn’t, but maybe it seemed like that because I had already started it when I found out who was in my group?
My family said everyone else was an AH for making me do all the work and stuff. But I’m not sure because of that giant negative reaction that not just the people involved, but also the rest of the class had. I‘m quite a solitary person and didn’t have friends in the school I went to before this one, and because of that I’ve always made group projects alone and don’t know the etiquette around them. I also do feel bad that they got a bad grade because of me, especially if they really thought I didn’t want help.
TDLR: I did a group project alone because my group ignored me. We did the presentation together, and I told the teacher that I made the poster and the content of the presentation alone. The teacher then gave the rest of my group a bad grade. My entire class insulted me until I cried when they found out. I don’t have good social skills so im not sure if I was right or wrong.
What are these acronyms?
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thatdammchickennugget · 6 months
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Only A Matter Of Time - Chapter Two
pairing - remus lupin x original female character
summary - Rory and her friends start classes at Hogwarts.
warnings - slight bullying
wordcount - 2.8k
set - september to december 1976
series masterlist - previous chapter - next chapter
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The first couple days of classes went by surprisingly well. Rory liked most of her classes and teachers, especially Herbology with Professor Sprout, her head of house, and Potions with Professor Slughorn.
She ended up sharing Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors, sharing a table with Remus in all of them except Transfiguration, where she ended up sitting in between James and Sirius, with Remus on Sirius’ other side, as the tables were arranges in rows of five.
The last seat was filled up by Peter Pettigrew, who Rory had met at lunch on the first day of classes. Peter was a short boy who always seemed to walk with his eyes fixed on the ground. He was quite shy, and Rory found him a little adorable, with his mousy blond hair sticking up and the way his cheeks turned red when the attention turned to him. He also shared a dorm with Sirius, James and Remus and rounded up their little group of friends nicely.
Rory felt almost stupid now for her jealousy on her first day. She had known that Sirius was going to make other friends and she should have trusted him not to forget about her, he would never have left her behind like that.
She also could not find it in herself to be upset with James. It was as if the boy knew exactly what to say and do to have Rory wrapped around his finger and she wondered how he managed to be this charming at only eleven years old.
It was a good thing Sirius and James had found each other. The two really were two peas in a pod and the more Rory watched the two stir up trouble in class or roughhousing during their breaks, the more content she was sitting on the side-lines with Remus and Peter.
Remus had to be the most calm and level-headed kid Rory had ever seen, but she did not mind as she sat between him and Peter at breakfast. His nose was once again stuck in a book, Peter was munching on his eggs and Rory had her sketchbook open on her lap. Sirius and James were laughing loudly, attracting stares of many of the older students as they threw grapes at each other, trying to catch them with their mouths. It was supposed to be a competition, but Rory assumed that none of them were even keeping score.
Rory had been nervous about sitting at the Gryffindor table with them when they first asked her, not knowing if there was a rule against it. The boys had tried to convince her until Remus eventually just asked Professor McGonagall after their Transfiguration lesson and she informed him that there were no rules from keeping the houses separated during meals as long as it was not disturbing other students. Remus told Rory that the Professor actually seemed to encourage it.
“Looks like we’re getting mail, Rore,” Sirius told her when he looked up and recognized two of the owls sweeping into the hall. Sure enough, two letters were dropped on their table. Rory grimaced as she grabbed the sage green envelope, looking at the seal picturing an uppercase B with the wing of a dove behind it.
She waited for Sirius to tear his letter open before breaking the seal on hers and unfolding the paper. She leaned back in her seat when she noticed Peter nosily peeing over her shoulder.
Aurora, we are disappointed and disturbed to hear you have not been sorted into Slytherin as was expected of you. We will see fit to make sure you understand the family values and your responsibility in honouring the family name when we see you at Christmas. You are not to step even one more toe out of line. Be reminded that your cousin Atticus is watching over you and we will be informed about any trouble you get yourself in. It would be best for you to keep in close proximity to him as he will be able to introduce you to people worthy of your time. Behave yourself, Wilhelmina Blythe
Rory barely kept herself from rolling her eyes when she finished reading. She folded up the letter and put it into the pocket of her robe while Sirius crumpled his into a ball and threw it at her head.
“Are your folks as delighted as mine?” he asked her sarcastically and she stuck her tongue out at him. Hanging around those boys for one week has already done quite a number on her manners, she realized.
“Christmas is going to be fun this year,” she told him with a sigh and went back to her drawing, ignoring the questioning looks from James, Peter and Remus.
⌞☆⌟ ⌞☆⌟ ⌞☆⌟
Rory had managed to go detention-free for six full weeks before James and Sirius managed to pull her into trouble with them and she was fuming.
“We’re sorry, Rore. But it’s only detention,” James tried to grab her arm from behind her, but she dodged his attempt and shuffled over to Remus’ other side to get out of the Potter boys’ reach.
Sirius and James had caught some frogs the night before and unbeknownst to her, managed to hide some in her bag as well as theirs. Sirius said it was just in case their bags got searched, McGonagall would have never suspected her. They had planned to let them free in the great hall during lunch, but Rory had accidentally knocked her bag over with her foot, letting three of the frogs free in Transfiguration.
This caused a panic with some Hufflepuff girls sitting in front of the group of friends, resulting in some screams and someone fainting. Professor McGonagall was able to trace it back to her, knowing the two boys were in on it by the way they were trying to stifle their laughter, and had given all three of them a weeks’ worth of detention.
“You can’t be mad at us for this, it was an accident, really!” Sirius now tried to get her attention and she finally turned around to scold him one more time.
Walking backwards she unfortunately did not see where she was going, and Remus was much too busy making sure his friends were not about to be murdered by the short girl next to him to watch out for her. Her back collided with something hard, what she assumed to be the corner of a book digging into her shoulder painfully before both she and the person she had ran into lost their balance and landed on the floor.
She quickly turned to look who she just shoved to the floor by accident and found a pale face glaring at her. She recognized the boy to be Severus Snape, a first year Slytherin that had gotten into squabbles with James before.
She jumped to her feet, offering him a hand to help him up, but the boy pushed back his greasy black hair and pushed himself up, ignoring her outstretched hand. “Watch were you’re going.”
“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Are you hurt?” she ducked down to pick up the books he had dropped but he yanked them roughly out of her hands.
“Just get away from me,” he muttered and scrunched his nose up in disgust when he spotted her friends around her. The two Slytherin boys he was walking with came to stand on either of his sides and fixed Rory with a glare as well.
Sirius stepped forward and pushed her behind him slightly. “Calm down, she didn’t run into you on purpose, Snivellus.”
One of the other boys, she now recognized him as Oberon Parkinson, stepped forward. He mustered Remus with furrowed brows where he was standing next to the girl, holding the bag she had dropped. He then purposefully bumped his shoulder into hers and Sirius’ as he walked passed them, muttering ‘blood-traitors’ under his breath.
“Let’s just go,” Remus said, putting a hand on Rory’s shoulder, gently nudging her in the other direction. Rory was about to follow him, grabbing a hold of both James and Sirius’ sleeves to make sure they did not go and get into even more trouble.
Both of them looked ready to pounce on any of the Slytherins but let themselves be pulled along by the girl. Remus and her pushed them in front of them to put as much space between them and the Slytherins as possible, Peter following along. She took her bag back and slung it over her shoulder, wanting to get away from this situation.
She felt someone take a hold of her wrist and was harshly pulled around by the second year Slytherin that had stood by Severus. Evan Rosier, she thought his name was. He pulled her up to him and away from her friends by the arm as a smirk found it’s way onto his face.
“You really shouldn’t be hanging around their sort,” he told her nodding to someone behind her. She did not have to look to know he was talking about Remus and Peter.
Someone stepped up next to her and Evan looked even more amused when Remus took his hand from her arm, pulling her back into him. “Leave her alone.”
“And if I don’t?” Evan sneered at the slightly taller boy. He went to push against Remus’ chest, and he stumbled back a step. “What are you going to do about it, half-breed?”
Rory saw Remus’s shoulders tense and his jaw set tightly at the word. James and Sirius had by now managed to wriggle out of Peter’s grip and were running up to them. Remus took a step forward and pushed the older boy back.
She saw Evan pull his arm back to punch Remus and heard James scramble for his wand behind her, but before anyone else was able to react, she had grabbed the strap of her bag. Without a second thought she swung the bag, filled with her heavy school books, at the boy and hit him right in the crotch.
The older boy let out a yelp and his knees folded beneath him. The whole hallway fell silent as everyone stared at the group in shock. Remus was the first to shake himself out of it, grabbing Rory’s hand and turning back to his friends.
“Let’s go,” he told them and started walking, dragging the girl behind him. Sirius, Peter and James hurried after the pair, bursting into laughter as soon as they rounded a corner into the next hallway.
“That was even better than McGonagall’s face earlier!” Sirius was pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, a wide grin still on his face as he clapped his best friend on her back.
“Did you guys hear the sound he made?” James laughed, throwing an arm around Rory’s shoulder as they walked. He pulled her into him, smiling down at her. “Merlin, you’re my hero, Rore.”
Rory felt her cheeks heat up by the attention she was receiving. She had regretted what she had done right away, not even able to imagine what her grandmother would have to say about it. But now, she was having trouble supressing the grin threatened to take over her face.
⌞☆⌟ ⌞☆⌟ ⌞☆⌟
The last letter from her grandmother felt heavy in her pocket as she plopped down next to Remus on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room. It was their favourite one, the one right in front of the big fireplace. Usually, it was occupied by older students, and Rory wondered how long it would take until they were shoed away from the spot.
She had not told her friends about the letter she had received that morning. The boys had all woken up late this morning and missed breakfast. She was kind of glad they did, as nobody had been pestering her about what her family writing about.
Sirius has been the worst of the bunch. Rory knew he was able to read her like an open book, even though he usually was not the most perceptive person. She also knew that he was dreading Christmas break just as much as she was.
She was able to keep herself out of the boy’s mischief for the most part, only having gotten one more detention after that first time they got her into trouble. And this time she managed to do it all on her own, in a class she did not even share with her friends.
Professor Binn’s class had just been so boring, it was either doodling in her sketchbook or dozing off and taking a nap. She was not even paying attention to what she was drawing, but when the Professor made his way through the aisle and spotted what she was doing she found that she had absentmindedly drawn him in a very unflattering manner.
The boys had found it hilarious. The picture was now tacked to the wall between Sirius’ and James’ beds as they would not let her throw it away. She wondered why the Professor let her keep it in the first place, he had to have known it was not a good idea.
But nevertheless, everybody was able to tell that Rory and Sirius were in a bad mood. Their friends knew that they were not happy about going home for the break, but none of them knew why exactly.
Peter and James were trying to cheer Sirius up with a game of exploding snap, sitting on the floor in front of the sofa. Remus and Rory had exchanged large pieces of parchment the moment they had sat down.
Remus was reading over her charms essay, while she was checking his herbology homework. The two had quickly figured out a system. They complimented each other perfectly when it came to school. While Remus was really good at Charms, Transfiguration and Defence against the Dark Arts, Rory excelled at Potions, Herbology and Astronomy. The only class they both were not fond of was History of Magic, but they managed to get passing grades by studying together.
Rory found it hard to concentrate on what she was reading, but she did not want to let her friend down and forced herself to focus on the paper in front of her. Her mind kept wandering to Christmas break, her hands growing clammy at the thoughts of what her father and grandmother would throw at her.
The parchment was suddenly ripped from her hands, a grinning James appearing in front of her. “We don’t have classes again ‘till next year, nerds. Come play with us.”
“I’m not really in the mood, sorry,” Rory told James and tried to snatch the paper back from him.
“Okay, you don’t have to play if you don’t want to. But I’m not going to watch you two study tonight.” James folded both essays into smaller squares and then, much to Rory’s dismay, pushed them down the front of his pants. Point to James, she was not going to try and get them back from there.
With a sigh she settled further down into the sofa cushions, reaching over to her bag to get her sketchbook. She was working on colouring a sketch she had drawn of an asphodel flower, which was the last thing they had studied in herbology.
“So, what are you guys going to do over break?” James asked and looked around his friends.
“We’re going to my muggle grandparent’s house for Christmas,” Peter said with a smile. He had told Rory that he was excited to see some of his cousins there.
“My mum and I usually go to every Christmas market we can find. And then we spend Christmas and New Years at home, just me and my parents,” Remus put his book down, a small smile on his face as he talked.
“What’s a Christmas market?” Rory asked, Sirius and James wearing an equally confused expression.
“Uhm, there are stalls where you can buy different things. Usually it’s handmade things, woodwork or candles, stuff like that. And there’s food and warm drinks. Sometimes someone dresses up as Santa for the little kids. Oh, and there’s Christmas music,” Remus explained, and Rory could tell he was very fond of what he was describing. “It’s just this thing me and my mum have always done. She loves it.”
“Sounds fun. I wish I could go to one of those,” Rory told him and smiled awkwardly at the prefect staring her down as he walked by. Most Gryffindors had gotten used to her being here all of the time. She was sure she was not supposed to, but so far no one had snitched on them. It had not taken that much convincing from her friends for her to give in and sneak in here the first time a couple of weeks ago.
“Maybe you can come visit over break sometime. We can go together. I bet my mum would love to meet you guys.” “Yeah, maybe,” she forced a smile on her face when she said it. Sirius was watching her, his brows furrowed slightly. They both knew they would never be allowed to stay at Remus’ house.
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amenders93 · 6 months
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9 Weeks till Chicken Run 2
Last week's post showed us that when potential love interests get a first impression about one person, sometimes things happen later on that the first impression may be too good to be true. In this case, while during the flight training, Ginger starts to get a sinking feeling about Rocky; that he may not be as helpful as she thought he would be. After the Poultry Products truck delivered strange boxes into the barn and Mrs. Tweedy gave them an evil smile, Ginger starts to get a little worried - that whatever is in those boxes is for the chickens and it's not softer hay. After speaking with Mac about the poor progress of the chicken's flight training, she leaves for Fowler's hut to go talk to Rocky. For this week's post, we’re going to see our favorite determined hen show the cavalier playboy rooster that she is starting to mean business.
Let's pick up right after the brief conversation between Ginger and Fowler about their opinions of Rocky, we find our dashing rooster in one of the huts, joking around with a group of hens inside and having a specially made cocktail. After a good laugh from one joke, Bunty hits him hard enough that he ends up spraying out his drink on some of the hens. He's shocked to discover that he had mostly gotten Ginger wet, who had just came in from Fowler's hut. I bet that would be embarrassing. The rooster tries to cover for himself by acting serious to the group, telling them to remember the flying tips for the next day's lesson and keep thinking those "flighty thoughts".
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The other hens are apparently buying it, but our spunky hen Ginger isn't. Even though Babs had dried her face off, she still gives Rocky a stern look. Our dashing rooster tries to act cool in the face of the hen's wrath; he compliments how swell the other hens are like with Babs knitting him a beak warmer and how Bunty really packs a punch. Even though he tries to play it cool, Rocky can't stand Ginger's glare at him anymore. He asks her if there is a problem; she asks him if they have yet flown over the fence. He answers not quite; she replies that there, in fact, is a problem. Rocky heads toward the hut's entrance and grabs a towel, all the while telling her that all good things come to those who wait. He also adds on the nickname "doll face" again, upsetting Ginger. She calls out her name angrily after him and follows him outside.
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Our cavalier playboy rooster is now at a wash station outside another hut, throwing water on his face and cleaning himself up. While he plays around his comb almost like brushing it into a cool, suave hairstyle, Ginger walks up to him and asks him how it took him to fly. Rocky simply states that it's like apples and oranges, he's gifted and the hens aren't, and those two things cannot be compared; he also reminds her that these things take time. He also calls her "baby doll" along with it. Ginger is aware of that but she tells him that time is what they're rapidly running out of and they've been training at flying all week but they haven't even lifted off the ground yet.
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But before Rocky can answer Ginger or at least give another snarky remark, Mac interrupts and says that she's been going over her calculations and they're missing one key element - thrust. Unfortunately, since she speaks in a thick Scottish accent, Rocky is not able to understand a single word she said. However, since Ginger has known Mac a lot longer than Rocky has, she is able to translate for her friend. She tells the rooster what the other hen said - that they need more thrust in order to try to lift off the ground. He, on the other hand, is still clueless about the concept even though the calculations were explained but still tries to make a point that he does.
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Ginger isn't buying it though; she politely asks Mac if she and Rocky could have a little chat. Then she grabs the rooster by his bad wing and pulls him aside. Our determined hen is now running out of patience with their "only hope" since all the chickens are running out of time. Ginger tells Rocky that he has until the end of tomorrow to give her some results or otherwise their deal is off and he is on his own. She won't help him hide anymore, the farmers will find him and then it's back to the circus for him. I did tell you that our little firecracker of a hen is going to show this playboy she is getting serious.
Rocky, on the other hand, still tries to play it cool by meanly saying that she's the first chick he's ever met with the shell still on. I think this means that she's probably the only girl he's ever met that hasn't swooned all over him (some guys kind of find that alluring). Otherwise he could find her to be a little too serious. Ginger just continues to scowl at him; Rocky hands her the towel he had and tries a new tack, giving her a coy smile. He tells her to sleep tight and that he's on the case. He also calls her "angel face" and as he walks away, his tail feathers tap her on her beak. She angrily yells out her name again and throws the towel at his head. Rocky is now seeing this hen is really not buying into his charm like the others are, no matter how hard he tries. You'd think he'd find it at least a little bit attractive that she's being her true self while the others are all just a bunch of fangirls because he's handsome and has charm.
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At this point, now we're seeing that Ginger is more determined than ever to help her fine feathered friends out of their prison, and with every good reason too. Time is running out and even with all the flight training they're receiving, the chickens are no closer to freedom than they were even before their instructor showed up. And even worse, she's now running out of patience with a certain rooster and gives him a good and proper warning. If Rocky doesn't show Ginger any flight results by the next day, she will no longer hide him from the Tweedys and he'll go back to the circus, which he definitely doesn't want. What she finds even more frustrating is that he keeps calling her derogatory names like doll face, angel face and baby doll; some women find that very unflattering. Will he give this little firecracker the results she's expecting? I guess we'll find out on next week's post.
Anyway this is my fourth weekly Rocky/Ginger moment post commemorating the upcoming sequel to Chicken Run. I hope you enjoyed this post. There will be 8 other posts about the first film coming up in the future as well as 2 monthly posts about the sequel. Waiting for this long-awaited sequel may not be easy but these posts are making it easier as the release date draws nearer.
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ava3vav · 7 months
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You did great, my love (Pt. 5)
Hanta's suggestion:
youtube
Kaminari's then Ashido's suggestion:
youtube
Bakugo the entire time
TW: Small war mention, slight language
“Alright, so I just need to have 3 backups of everything ready at hand? ” You said, slightly getting nervous. “Yes honey. These soldiers are practically piranhas after each training. Luckily for us, we asked you a week in advance if you could supply food.”
You and Recovery Girl were in a clearing next to a forest, one that had the academy’s obstacle course. There were a few exercising equipment, sword and arrow bow racks, and a few horses in a nearby pen. The soldiers were having their bimonthly intense training, and you were asked to make a, “few” sustenances for them after training. It seemed daunting, but you accepted; you were going to be paid handsomely, get to avoid cleaning a part of the cafe for some time, and you might also see Kirishima while there.
“What happened to the last person that got asked in short notice?” you asked while setting up the drink station. She shrugged. “The food was undercooked. Not by a whole lot, but still noticeable.” You shuddered, not wanting to think about the halt in your business sales. 
“Not to worry, we got a small lesson in salmonella and time management that day.” She said, trying to light the mood up. You laughed, your mood instantly going up. “How many soldiers do you know here? I know you know two, but that’s pretty much it.” You asked, remembering when she was talking with Kirishima and Sero. “A lot of them. This is the only military academy here in a big area, so a lot of high schools join this one.” You nodded, figuring that she would know even more since she was the head nurse for a few years there.
~Time Skip~
“Do you know when they will arrive?” you said, starting to get bored. “I have no idea.” She said, shaking her head.
“We’re here!” You and she turned around, and saw a group of three soldiers coming around, all looking like they’ve been dragged through a swamp. The both of you immediately took your places, each of you informing them which food was what. “Thank you” one said, “this definitely hits hard after going through hell. Get ready, more are coming.” You and RG nodded, prepared to move around fast.
True to their word, a bigger group came along, holding about 20~30 soldiers. Fudge Muffins, you thought. It was all a rushing blur next, the two of you trying to fill each table up as each plate was being snatched. It was less hard than the usual rushes, but you had to get used to the fact that this was a different place, so there were a few things that weren’t the same. Good thing this was a one time thing, otherwise you would tire easily. Eventually, the flow got smaller and there were more people eating and conversing out in the field. There was still food, but there were only a few tables left of them. You and RG were now cleaning more than serving, the soldiers were well fed by the end of the rush. 
“Excuse me (y/n), I need to leave for a moment, I’ll be back.” You nodded, taking time to put one of the last few trays up on the table. You were alone for some time, when a soldier came up to the table; you recognized her as the pink haired and skinned woman that was in the group with Kirishima. “Hi! I just want to say that I enjoyed your food! Really filling!” You were taken aback by the sudden compliment and bubbliness, but you were quick in recovering. “Hello! Thank you for the comment Miss..?.” “Ashido.” “Ashido. Yes, I try hard on everything, so complimenting me has confirmed that.” Ashido smiled. “It is! It’s very good! I was going to ask you if you wanted to join our group? We ha-” “Hello (Y/N). It’s nice to see you again! Mina, Hanta needs to tell you something URGENTLY.”
Both of you turned your heads, and it was Kirishima running up to the both of you. “Sero has to talk to you about the IMPORTANT thing, sooo…” Mina giggled. “Right, of course of course. I’ll see the both of you later!” you immediately looked at Kirishima when she left.
“Is everything alright? That seemed pretty urgent.” You said with slight worry. “Yeah, it was just about a project they’ve been working on.” He said with a sigh of relief. “Alright, if that's what it is, then I wish them good luck on it.” He chuckled, “Yeah, a project. Anyways, I’m surprised to see you here, most people wouldn’t want to spend their weekend making food.”
You slightly blushed. “Yeah? I was thinking the same. Part of the reason why I agreed to cater for this training was because it would be great to change my schedule, get a bigger amount of money, and meet a few new people.”
Kirishima nodded. “Right, I like when we take breaks like these, it helps just me see why I keep fighting. I want to preserve happy moments for not just me, but for others, that’s what a hero would do. I just wish I could experience it with someone else.” You were frozen for a moment, it was beautiful what he said, it brought a new light to you. In addition, you also wanted to live your life with someone, and you wanted that someone to be Kirishima.
“I could experience it with you, if you want. I also want to live happily with someone” You said, nervous about what his reaction would be. He looked at you, mouth and eyes slightly ajar. That quickly washed when he replied, “Yeah, me too. If we should do it, then I need to do it properly. Do you want to go out sometime? Maybe next weekend?” You smiled warmly at him.
“Yes, I’d like to go.” You said, holding his hand on yours. “Thank you” he said, “I’ll walk you back home if you wish.” The two of you walked to your house. Not saying much. Both of you just enjoyed each other’s company; walking hand in hand slightly leaning into each other’s body. It felt like the sunset sky stayed for hours, the moment you were experiencing was to be felt for a long time.
Finally, the two of you reached your house and cafe building, looking charming as ever. “Thank you Eiji, it was nice seeing you again.” He smiled “Of course, thank you for letting me walk you again! So, I pick you up on the seventh day in the afternoon?” You nodded. “Yes, I’ll be closed at that time.” He nodded. “Alright, see you on our first date!”
You walked to your room, happy to find someone that cared about you.
Previous
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Bonus:
"Alright, I told (Y/N) I had to leave, you can go now Kirishima!"
"What?! He's here!? Crap, I don't know what to say to him, I'll just talk to him next time."
"Dude, Recovery Girl made (L/N) work alone right now, don't let it go to waste!"
"What should I say? I don't know what interests him!"
"Just be yourself! He'll like it! We've known you long enough to know that he'll be inte-"
"Listen here young man, you will make an effort to talk to him! And a real conversation, not small talk!"
"If you don't go up to him right now, I'll go myself!"
"C'mon, I'll get to know him more, THEN I can go on from there!"
"Oi, I've never heard you be this scared of anything. You fought in a war once, but you're afraid of talking to him?"
"Listen, I'll just chat with him for a while, this is only like the second or third time we meet, so it might not get far."
"How are you going to know if you don't take the damn chance? By the way, Mina is already making her way up to him."
"MINA! MINA NO-"
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existance-stories · 1 month
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a small piece of my lesbian story:
hey, so the last 3 years ive been working on a story between two girls in a Dutch secondary school bit by bit and i wanted to share a small piece of it here:
feedback would be greatly appreciated!
Main character's name: Ella, 15 (F, 1m 63) Her partner: Evie, 16 (F, 1m 70)
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(...) A few minutes later, the rest of the class enters talking loudly and the bell rings. The mentor starts by shushing everyone before starting with the class. “Good morning everyone! As we all know, the lockdowns are over, which is good news for most of us, but it also can be bad for some, because now you have to wake up earlier than usual again.” He says, to which some people giggle.
“So, how is everyone doing?” He asks, getting several responses ranging from “Eh.” to “Tired..” “I see. Well, good news guys, girls and everyone else, we can give actual physical lessons again! Yaaay!... Anyway, the main starting point of this lesson will be inclusion in classes. Get out your phones and scan this QR code to go to a questionnaire” - (he says this very fancily) - “and fill it in until the very last question. I’ll give you 10 minutes for this, and then we’ll move on to the next topic.” He says as he displays a very big QR code on the screen. Everyone scans it and some laugh, but most people fill it in seriously. The questions are from a scale of 1 to 5, ranging from “Do you feel safe at school?” to “How much do you feel like you’re being seen as who you truly are?”. I overhear some guys in the back, whispering “I’m just gonna fill a 1 in every question..” to which in response two other guys laugh. A slight internal anger starts brewing inside of me, but I decide to brush it off. Evie sees this and wants to say something, but gets interrupted by our mentor: “Guys in the back, that’s exactly the opposite of what you’re supposed to do. These results will be published anonymously, but that doesn’t mean you can fill in whatever you please...” Evie looks at me, smiles and whispers: “Like he could read your mind..” “Heh yeah, it’s almost creepy..” I say as I continue with the list. When everyone is seemingly finished with the list, the mentor says: “Right, so. I can see that everyone is done, if you would put your phones away.. So the first real topic of this class will be radioactivity, since we’re done with chapter 3... Right. Who here knows what percentage of the daily exposure to radiation comes from bananas?” After a small moment of silence, someone in the class answers: “Is it 10%?” “No, but you almost got it right though. It’s 1%.”
A boring lesson passes about radioactivity, and when the bell rings Mr. Martens puts his hand up at me and Evie, inviting us to stay after class. We both don’t notice however that one boy looks behind him and sees us waiting for everyone to leave the class. When everyone is outside of class, Mr. Martens closes the door and asks: “So. What is this chemistry between you two?” To which Evie replies: “Well.” – as she looks at me – “we really like each other, to the point where we started hanging out more and.. kissing.. too..” “Well.. You’re lucky, in this society, this kind of attraction is getting more and more accepted, and it’s less of a thing to be ashamed of. You’re lucky this didn’t develop 100 years ago. I will support the both of you, and just know that I’ll be here for any questions.” To which Evie responds: “Thank you so much Mr. Martens! I knew we’d be able to count on you!” “No problem! Hey, this won’t effect your grades in any way, right?” To which we both laugh, me saying: “Oh it will, it will very badly sir!”
After 10 more minutes of discussing how the general atmosphere is in school in terms of acceptance, we leave the classroom and get stopped by a group of four boys and one girl, clearly waiting for us. One of them, called Lodewijk, steps up, saying: “Well well well, look what we have here. The oddities of the school, asking the teacher for help. Weirdos. I’m sure you’ve seen the video on Instagram already, your reputation is over. How about you give us 30 euros and we’ll delete it.” To which Evie and I look at each other, having to switch so suddenly from the happy, safe environment from a few seconds ago to this. All of the boys around him just laugh. I just kind of stammer, not knowing what to do nor what to say, with Evie taking the lead, saying: “Leave us alone. We’re not paying to get something we’re proud of, removed. Want to bet you guys are just as weird as us in other aspects?”, to which the girl of the group replies: “Boo-hoo. Look at her, trying to defend her” – and she says this while making a vomiting sound – “ ‘girl friend.’ How sad. How about you two just break up already, I think these boys here are a much better pick than whatever crap you are hanging out wi-” but before she can finish the sentence, Evie screams: “Don’t you DARE insult my girl!”, with a punch to the girl’s face. Evie takes my hand and we run away from the group, through all the other students. “Hey! Get back here!” Lodewijk screams at the top of his lungs. We leave the school building, eventually stopping besides it. We catch our breath as we stand outside, with eventually me being the first to say: “Wow.. I didn’t think you had that in you!” “Yeah.. I guess I can be too defensive sometimes.. Heh, we’re undoubtedly in trouble, but it was so worth it.” She looks up and smiles at me, and I smile back. She gives me a quick kiss, taking the role as the dominant one in the relationship. “Did you see whether I did any damage to her ugly face?” “No, I’m sorry, I wasn’t exactly paying attention in that situation..”
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again, any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
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pucksalotguys · 2 years
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Chapter 3
WC: 5K
Masterlist to series
Ella finds herself spending time with Nate, Sophia and Graham as a way to get more comfortable around Cale’s friends. What she doesn’t expect is for Cale to invite her to the Stanley cup final to watch him. Shes nervous as can be and things get slightly worse when a group of girls let her know about some things that aren’t true. She does her best to stay calm but it all comes down to her talking to Cale and hearing about some things he never thought he’d share
(The mentions of Sophia,Nate and Graham are just references from their fic ! They’re minor characters here but a bit was needed for explanation. Also wags names are made up just to avoid all that)
Cale had never been this nervous in his life, everything came down to this one very moment. On one side he was excited as can be but on the other he felt like this was a plan waiting to implode on him. He didn’t think inviting her would be a bad idea especially after their night and other little dates here and there he thought it would be nice, it was a trip to Tampa and a chance for her to see what he did. He opened the door as he heard it knock and grinned shly at her “Hey, you’re early” “I thought there’d be a bit of traffic but I guess there wasn’t” Ella nodded “You said casual, is this okay for where we’re going ?”
He looked her over quickly and nodded, heat slowly coming over his face as he watched her walk inside “It’s just dinner at my friend Nate’s and his girlfriend Sophia will be there as well and Graham, it’s just dinner, you look perfect” Cale smiled at her “There’s no need to be nervous, I promise” “I mean they’re your really good friends, you talk about them all the time I wanna impress” she admitted “You sure Sophia will like me ?” “Don’t worry about her” Cale shook his head “Worry about Nate and Graham” he teased 
Ella’s face tensed as she held onto her purse “Is he really that mean ? I’ve heard things” she whispered
“I was just teasing” Cale said softly “He’s really nice, he truly is. His whole thing is a tough guy act with no emotions but you’ll see he’s a really good person, especially when around Sophia and Graham. He loves them so much, they’re his entire life”
“Okay” Ella let out a sigh “I think I’m ready, let’s go” Cale chuckled and walked out with her “You have me, there’s nothing to worry about Ella. I wouldn’t let anything happen and honestly he’s really nice.” She shook her head as she got in his car, she figure this would be a good moment to bring up what had happened the other night “I don’t know how else to say this so I guess I’ll be upfront but I can’t accept the money you gave me” “I thought that was the agreement, I mean it’s enough isn’t it ?” “Cale” she looked at him “It’s a lot, I know it’s what we had agree on but I just can’t accept it. I wanna give it back to you” “Nope” he shook his head “We agreed and that’s that, it’s yours….you earned it” Ella felt herself shrink in her seat “I guess I did”
Cale quickly realized his words as he blushed and pulled over on the side of the road “I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t I swear to you Ella” She grinned slightly and leaned over to place his chin between her thumb and index finger. "You talk too much sometimes, but I kind of appreciate that. You do it well, perhaps a little too well."
With his mouth pursed and eyes growing somewhat wide, Cale stared at her mouth that was flawlessly covered in lip gloss while being rendered speechless. He leaned in slowly in case she wanted to reject him
"God, you take too long," she groaned  as her lips touched his and climbed onto his lap “Lean the seat back”
“What ? Why ?” he asked confused “So we can make out why else ?” Ella said back “This is part of the contract, I’m teaching you ways to take control of situations. This is a lesson Cale, when you’re good and apologize you get a reward” “But what if I want my reward in another way ?” he whispered “I mean we can hangout tonight again, maybe go a bit further than last time” she leaned down and kissed his jaw He closed his eyes for a moment as he gulped and move his hand up to grip her waist “I….I wanted to ask you something”
“Can’t this wait ?” she asked “I’m on the verge of giving you road head” “Come with me to Tampa” Cale blurted out Ella lifted her head back and looked at him “What ?” “Game 6 in Tampa, possibly the game we win it all. Come with me, if you want. I get why you wouldn’t, my parents and brother will be there as well as my other teammates' families and partners but I….I think it’d be good for us” he explained “Um….I ruined the moment didn’t I ?
“You…you want me to go with you ?” she asked as she sat back in the passenger “I..I mean I agree to do whatever you ask of me so if you want me to go I’ll go” Cale sat up “I want you to go because you want to go, not because of what we agreed on. I promise it’s okay if you don’t want to”
Ella gave it some thought and decided that, despite the risk, she wanted to take it. She would be willing to step outside of her comfort zone for Cale because he was good—perhaps a little too good for his own benefit.
She replied, "I'll go, you tell me everything I need to know about your family before we get there and I’ll be set"
The relief must’ve been a little too clear on Cale’s face as he gave a small laugh and rubbed his chin as she looked at him with an amused expression 
“That makes me really happy like just….it makes me feel good” he shrugged nonchalantly “How about we get going to your friends and we’ll talk more tonight…..just us alone” she said “Oh shit we still have to go Nate and Sophia’s” Cale widened his eyes as he got himself settled “We’ll be a little late now but it’s okay just uh heads up Graham is a little….outspoken” “He’s a toddler” Ella shrugged as he began to drive “I like kids” Cale grinned as he continued to drive, hoping everything would be okay once they got to Nate and Sophia’s home
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“Here we are” he parked “It’s nice you brought him a toy, you didn’t have to do that” “I’m trying to gain brownie points” she grinned Cale shook his head “Is it okay if we walk in there hand in hand ?” “You lay out the rules…boss” Ella winked as she got out and walked over to his side and grabbed his hand “See now we look like a couple, it’s more believable” she grinned as they walked to Nate’s doorstep “Well look who’s here” Nate grinned as he opened the door “You must be Ella, nice to meet you I’m Nate come on in” She found herself slightly speechless as she looked up at him, he was handsome in a rugged way. The first thing she noticed were his eyes, they were blue like Cale’s but Nate’s were icy. They weren’t warm or inviting like Cale’s were, there was something behind them she couldn’t put her finger on “Nice to meet you too, you home is so beautiful” Ella said softly as she walked inside “Seriously this is…this is gorgeous”
“I owe it all to my girlfriend, she does it all. She’s in the living room, you guys go ahead while I finish up dinner. Be warned my son Graham is rather….well he’s a bit of a handful” Nate chuckled nervously “Call my name if he gets too wild” “He’ll be fine, she brought him a toy” Cale grinned “He’ll ease up”. It was what he was hoping for anyways, he loved Graham but even he could admit the toddler who wasn’t even 2 years old yet was a menace like Nate. He walked with with Ella into the living room and flashed her a reassuring smile Ella turned her head when she saw Sophia call her name and bring her in for a hug “Oh…h-hi, I’m Ella” “I know who you are, Cale hasn’t stopped talking about you” Sophia smiled “Come on, sit down” she went to the couch “Dinner should be done in a bit, you want something to drink ?” She was about to answer when she felt a tug on her dress and looked down  “And who’s this little dude, my gosh look at the rolls on your arms” “This is Graham” Sophia grinned as she went over and pet his head “He’s my-he’s Nate’s son” she said softly Ella grinned down at the toddler and got down to his level “You’re such a big boy, how cute are you ?” she gave a chuckle when he giggled and hid behind Sophia’s legs “I got you something, I heard you like puppies ?”
“Pups…” Graham whispered as he stepped forward “Pups cute” She took the bag from Cale and placed it in front of her “Here you go, you can open it” “Go ahead G” Cale grinned “See what Ella got you” Cale continued to watch as Graham stepped forward and took the gift bag and opened it, giving a giggle as he squeezed the stuffed puppy in his chubby hands “You like it buddy ? Can you say thank you to Ella ?” “tank you” he went up and hugged her Ella grinned as she patted his back “You’re very welcome” It was a sweet moment and somehow Cale felt even better, it made him feel like this a good step towards her being accepted. He leaned over and subconsciously put his arm around her as she stood back up “Should we go sit ?”
“I set up outside” Sophia grinned as she picked Graham up and kissed his cheek  “It’s a nice evening tonight, I guess who can say it’s the calm before the storm”
“Your home is beautiful” Ella mentioned “Seriously this is magazine worthy”
She looked around and couldn’t believe her eyes, she could only dream of ever having a home like this. She turned to Cale who seemed to be watching her intently with a smile on his face “Well it’ll be in the new Architectural Digest soon” she revealed with a shy grin “They came around and filmed last night, we’re gonna be on the cover of the magazine along with a video feature” “Seriously ?” Ella asked with shock “Holy shit that’s so cool !” “Shit !” Graham clapped as he sat in his high chair “Shit Shoph !” Ella widened her eyes as she turned to him “No no….that’s bad, we don’t say that, it’s bad Graham” “You bad” he said back as he grabbed his sippy cup and drank out of it “Time out Ellie !”
Cale blushed as he heard their interaction and laughed “Oh he likes you alright, he’s already teasing you and he gave you a nickname”
“You’re laughing and he’s repeating curse words” she whispered  “I’m trying to be a good influence”
He grinned as he looked over at Graham “Graham ?” “Yesh ?” the toddler answered as he stuffed peas into his mouth “What happen ?” “No bad words, okay ? It’s not nice” “He’s Nate’s son, the word f-u-c-k is said by him at least twice a day, you’re fine” Sophia assured “Believe me, so tell me how did you and Cale meet ?” she looked Ella Ella chuckled “It’s a funny story actually, we uh we met via a blind date he was a nervous wreck. Poor babe couldn’t look me in the eye longer than 2 seconds” she reached over and pet his cheek, she was gonna have fun with this one way or another “He was the cutest” “She kissed me though” Cale smiled sweetly “She just couldn’t keep her hands off me, I’m just that handsome I guess”. He gave a wink to Ella and leaned over to kiss her cheek as Nate walked back in the room
“Steaks are done, sorry that took long” Nate apologized “Um dig in, apparently heard my kid was being a little turd, sorry about that Ella” he gave her a grin as he sat down and held Sophia’s hand “So you coming with us to Tampa ?” “Actually I am, Cale invited me and I figured why not” she nodded “Is that okay ?” she asked nervously
“More than okay” Sophia said quickly “You can fly with me and Graham, please…I could use the company”
Ella put her fork down “You say it as if no one on the team likes you, I mean you’re you” she laughed lightly “You’re famous and no offense you’re way more known than the guys”. She took a sip of water as she watched Sophia look at Nate, in return he kissed her hand and gave her a kind smile. It was clear something was up and for now it was none of her business. Instead she squeezed Cale’s thigh under the table causing him to meet her eyes and lean in and kiss her forehead. A sweet gesture that made her heart beat rapidly against her chest
“Yucky” Graham made a face at them “Graham MacKinnon” Nate chuckled “Be nice” “Sowwy uncle kee kee” Graham pouted “Told you he was a handful” Cale whispered with a blush “But he likes you, I can tell” She nodded as she took a bite of her steak “I hope this doesn’t sound silly but…I really wanted him to like me, I know he’s a kid but kids see the good in people you know uncle kee kee” she giggled a bit Cale smiled and sighed “And here comes the teasing” “He’s having a day” Nate chuckled interrupting their conversation “But he likes you,” he grinned at Ella “Hope you guys enjoyed dinner” “It was great” Cale grinned “I guess all there is now to hope everything goes well in Tampa, no superstitions or anything like that just….I’ll stop talking now” he chuckled as he looked at Ella and grinned. Perhaps things would be okay after all 
********************
“I’m really glad you’re here” Sophia grinned at Ella as they walked into Amalie Arena “I hope you didn’t mind the flight with this little demon” she grinned down at Graham in his stroller Ella grinned “He was the best part of the flight, he kept me entertained and truth be told I had never been on a jet before, it was pretty cool….okay it was like insanely amazing. We didn’t have wait in line or anything we just drove up to the plane and that was that” “Being my friend has its perks” Sophia teased as they checked in with their passes “So this is where we separate and hopefully meet on the ice at the end of the game. I’m gonna be up in a different section with Nate’s parents and Graham” “Why don’t you come sit with me ? I’m gonna sit with the other girls. Cale said there’s plenty of seats there ?” Ella asked
Sophia gave a small shake of her head “I just….I feel more comfortable with his parents and plus Graham is a little crazy so it’s best we stay away for now….you enjoy yourself though okay ? Text me if anything Ella, I’ll only be a few sections away” She nodded and checked in her badge, clearly there was a conversation that needed to be had but she wouldn’t push. Not today that was such a big day for Cale and Nate, she shook off the feelings as she fixed her top and walked up to check in “Oh you must be Ella” a blonde came up to her and smiled “You look exactly like Cale’s type you know. The hair alone gave it away for some odd reason he sticks to redheads it’s kinda weird but also cute kind of like he is” Ella gave her a small grin and nodded “That’s me…..and you are ?” “I’m Layla” she offered her hand “Come on, come in so I can introduce you to the rest of the girls. We’ve been dying to meet you Ella” “Oh uh…that’s so nice” she chuckled nervously as she walked with her and observed, it was like she was watching clones. Mostly all tall blondes wearing some obnoxious denim jackets with writing on the back, she walked behind Layla and settled in an empty seat “Hey, why doesn’t Sophia sit here with everyone here ?”
“Oh her” she rolled her eyes “She’s always thought she was better than us, from the beginning. You should stay away from her, she’s nothing but drama. She thinks because she gets magazine covers and works in Europe she’s so much better than we are when in reality she’s nothing but some whore with a prettier than average face” “What do you mean ?” Ella asked confused “Oh god you don’t know” another blonde came and sat by her and smiled “She literally fucked Sidney Crosby, that’s Nate’s best friend. She was having an affair with him, was in a whole secret relationship and it came to blows. Cale was the one who literally beat Sidney so bad during a fight on the ice he got taken to the hospital. Nate was never the same, he still isn’t the same. The guys low key can’t stand her, it’s why she stays in a suite during games. Miss priss buys her own box and stays there playing mommy to Nate’s son who by the way isn’t even hers” she smirked
“What ?” Ella widened her eyes as she took in all the information, she looked at the blonde and widened her eyes  “Wh-Who’s Graham’s mom ?” “That’s a whole other thing but long story short poor Nate was so heartbroken that he found someone else, some chick named Hannah. I only saw her once but she was nice. They were engaged too, rumor is Sophia saw them and homewrecked, she got Nate back to her side and abandoned Hannah and their kid it’s why the kid is always with them” Layla nodded “And don’t forget the fact that she was the one who went after Sidney” the blonde interjected “She had known him for years, not only that but he’s like 10 years older than her. She knew what she was doing, and Sidney well…he fell for her, hard. He flaunted her around everywhere and all for her to just leave him and get with Nate again. She ruined two men, two best friends for fun. She knows it too so she stays away, I don’t know how she can be with Nate’s parents and not feel shame” Ella sipped her water as her stomach bubbled, it all too much information and it confused her. She knew something was off the second she stepped foot in Nate’s house but she never imagined it would be something to this degree “How…how close is she to Cale ?” she asked softly
Layla laughed, a little too loudly for her comfort as she sinked in her seat  “Why are you laughing ?” “Listen I know you’re here for Cale and you’re literally his type, to a T but you should know he’s always had a thing for Sophia. I remember his first season he lived with Nate and her, he would follow her around like a lost puppy dog so you better keep a good hold on him. And his rookie year, he was seen in a room ALONE with her. Nate wasn’t at the event, he sent her in his place and she took it as an opportunity” she leaned into her ear “He might be next for her Ella, watch out” “Layla” the blonde chuckled “Don’t scare the girl, look at her she’s terrified….Sophia is just not someone you should be around. Sure she’s gorgeous and she’s got money but do you really want to be associated with a homewrecker like her ?” Ella shook her head “N-No” “Then stick with us and you’ll be fine, let her be” Layla grinned as she sat next to her 
The second the game began she focused on the ice and looked for Cale’s number, it wasn’t hard to find but it was hard to keep up. He moved like lightning on the ice, it was constant back and forth for him. She remembered how he said if they won this game then it meant they won the Stanley cup, something he wanted so badly. The periods passed by painfully slow and finally it came down to that long awaited 3rd period, she stood on her feet along with the others. It happened quick but the second it ended she smiled, they had won. They had won and she was she was there to see it all “Oh my god ! They did it !’ Layla jumped up and down “Come on let’s go” “The ice” Ella nodded as she slowly remembered what Cale had instructed and mentally recited his family members names She watched as the other girls quickly began videoing and taking pictures, she turned her head when she heard her name being called and saw Sophia heading towards her “Ella !”
“Remember what we told you” Layla winked at her as she left 
“Sophia” Ella grinned politely “Uh, I gotta go….gotta be ready for Cale” “They’ll let us on the ice shortly” Sophia smiled as he hugged her and felt her body tense “Everything okay ?”
She nodded quickly “Just can’t believe this all happened, but I’ll see you tomorrow okay ?” Ella said as she walked away quickly and found Cale, she could see his cheeks red as ever but the smile on his face was everything. She yelped when he skated over and picked her up in his arms “We won !” he smiled as he kissed her She chuckled a bit taken back, she knew it was the adrenaline giving him the extra confidence that he needed but even then she kissed him back and gave him a hug
“My first hockey game being the biggest win in someone’s career ? That’s amazing” Cale grinned as he took her head “Those are my parents and brother over there, you uh….you up to meet them now or later ?” “Now” she smiled as she took his hand and leaned in his ear “And don’t worry, I remember everything you told me there is to know” With confidence Ella walked over with Cale as she stood by him. She remembered how he had told her his parents were huggers, that his younger brother was a bit quiet but once he had alcohol in him he became loose “You must be Ella, we’ve heard so much about you”  his mother smiled at her as she stepped in for a hug “My goodness you are gorgeous”
Cale chuckled at their interaction “Mom this is Ella, Ella this is my mother Laura and this is my father Gary and my little brother Taylor” “Whoa” Taylor grinned “She’s hot, way to upgrade dude” She giggled as his parents slapped him on the arm and Cale gave him a death glare, she knew she was in for quite the night of celebrations
*******************
“Jesus” Cale shook his head as he went inside his hotel room with her “My head is pounding” “You drank like 10 flutes of champagne” Ella laughed “Not to mention like 4 shots people were giving you, I’m shocked you’re not wasted honestly” “I have a high tolerance” Cale shrugged as he laid fully clothed in bed “My god what a day, probably the best day of my life and honestly….might be the alcohol talking but having you here with me was a thousand times better”
He grabbed her arm and brought her down to the bed “You looked really good today” “So did you” she smirked as she straddled his lap “I think the alcohol has you happy” “Something else is certainly happy” he smirked “Lay back” she murmured as she slowly slid down his pants and unbuttoned his dress pants “You deserve this tonight” Tonight he wasn’t nervous, he was comfortable and for once he was gonna enjoy himself and enjoy her as well. He sighed contently as he closed his eyes once he felt her lips on his cock, and put a hand on her head, pushing her down slightly
“Champ deserves a good blowjob” Ella said as she bobbed her head up and down “Tonight is all about you”
“Say that again” Cale looked at her “Champ ? Does that turn you on ? Getting praised ? So you do have kinks” she smirked He nodded quickly, he didn’t need to say a word as she continued, changing her pace and making him cum almost instantly. He gave a small smile as he felt a kiss on his neck and met her eyes “Let’s get dressed again and go meet Sophia and Nate for drinks down at the bar, it’s still going down there”
“I’d rather not” she shook her head as she fixed her top “I heard what happened and honestly I know what I am but at least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. You know who I am, I know my role and I don’t fake it”
“I am so confused right now” Cale said softly “What’s going on ?” “I heard what happened with her, with her and that guy named Sidney who was Nate’s best friend. How does she live with herself ?” Cale sat up almost immediately “Who told you this ? Because I know it wasn’t Sophia or Nate, who was it ?” "Yeah, they were definitely right," scoffed Ella, her brow furrowed as she fixed her top
"Let me guess" Cale started with a sigh "Layla and her gang of bimbos told you what they think they know about Sophia.
Ella responded, "She likes you, that's why she keeps you close."
“She’s my friend” he snapped, upset “She’s one of my closest friends, she’s like an older sister to me and you’re making assumptions that are hurtful to her and to Nate and Graham. That’s not okay” “She’s the one being two faced !” Ella exclaimed “Being nice to me in Denver and inviting me over for dinners and shopping then flying me out here in a private jet with her and using the excuse she wanted to be by Nate’s parents and Graham who’s not even her own kid” “Enough” Cale looked at her “You wanna know the fucking truth ? Here it is, sit down and listen. Don’t ask questions till I finish” he said sternly as he began to explain “This wasn’t my story to tell but you should know what really happened” Ella felt sick to her stomach as Cale explained everything to her, things that weren’t her business, things that she never wanted to know. She watched as Cale’s own face changed as he got to the darker part and shook her head “I….I’m sorry” she whispered “I’m so sorry it’s just they….those girls started talking and it was a group of them so I figured they were telling the truth.”
“Listen to me” Cale looked her as he held her hand “You cannot trust those girls, they’re liars and they’re vicious. They’ve never liked her, ever. When I first got here, they pranked me” he revealed “They made it seem like I had to go do some interview and locked me in a room with Sophia, that’s where those rumors come from” “Wait what ?” Ella whispered “My rookie year at a charity event, one of them came up to me and said I was needed for an interview, I went into the room and there’s Sophia. She was…she was changing from her work outfit to a dress and it just looked bad, it looked horrible. I freaked out of course and she quickly calmed me down and told Nate immediately of what happened, I knew from then on I could only really trust them”
“I had no idea” she scooted closer to him Cale shook his head as he looked at her “I wouldn’t have ever introduced you to them if they were bad people. I introduced you first to them because I knew they were good, because if….if word got out about us they’d have our back. They know scrutiny from first hand experiences” Ella sniffled as she wiped her eyes quickly “I don’t want her to think I’m judging her, I’m no one to judge her or him” “But you did” Cale whispered “They’re my friends, they’re my family and you took someone else’s word. Don’t do that again, please” “I promise” she whispered
He sighed as he rubbed his face “I know it seems like simple gossip but it’s more than that, it’s like….if they find out that I pay you”
“I like you a lot….too much for this to damage your career” she said in a soft tone 
“I do too” Cale responded “You may act tough, like nothing in the world bothers you but I know there’s more beneath you. I know there’s a story to you and I hope maybe one day you wanna tell me” he held her hand
“You can’t say things like that” she said as she fixed her hair. For a moment it felt real a little too real as she realized this wasn’t the time for that He straightened up after her dismissal and took his hand back embarrassed “Well I do like you, like…like we’re friends you know ?” “Friends” she nodded with a chuckle “Yeah we’re friends…..I mean we do stuff friends usually don’t do” “You mean to tell me you’ve never had a makeout session in a car on the side of a road with a friend ?” Cale joked 
“Nope” Ella smirked “And I’ve never fucked a stanley cup champion either”
His cheeks reddened fiercely “Th-There’s a first time for everything is what I hear” “And now isn’t that time” she rubbed his shoulder “Thank god” Cale let out a sigh of relief “No offense but I’m exhausted, it wouldn’t be good. My stamina isn’t the best and you’d have to do all the work and that would be not good”
“You said we fly back tomorrow earlier, I think I’m gonna go with Sophia and Graham…I could use the talk with her” “Okay” he said as he looked down at her and debated leaning in for a kiss She grinned and brought his face down for a kiss as soon as she saw the hesitation on his side  there was no doubt she was falling for him and maybe just maybe even without the contract she could have him want her for real. Without having to pay her, without having to fake the relationship. She could love him and she knew he’d keep her safe
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Text
Buckle up we’re going crazy
conversations I started but with LU names
(Also some swearing at the forks are supreme part, it’s not that much, but still. We’re all very passionate about forks) 
-
Legend: I just stole Ravio, Fable and Sheerow’s phones
Legend: Out of their pockets
Legend: And none of them noticed
Legend: Please be better than them at keeping track of your phones
Hyrule: Are you trying to teach us a lesson?
Legend: Yes. As the responsible adult. Pay attention. 
Four: aS tHe rEsPoNsIbLe aDuLt 
Twilight: What about Time? The self proclaimed dad friend?
Legend: Well if I’m teaching you these things then how good of a dad friend can he really be?
-
Wild: Guys
(photo of prototype of a boot cover)
Wild: It’s a sock for my shoe
Wind: What the fuck
Wild: It’s name is Elle
-
Sky: I can’t talk
Sky: I’ve lost my voice
Sky: as an alternative to my usual annoyingness I’m using my otomatone to scream
-
Legend: “I am a strong and independent woman”
Legend: “I don’t need no man”
Legend: - Warriors 
Warriors: Betrayal
-
Wind: I’m bored and my headphones aren’t working someone talk to me
Legend: Sucker
Wind: Are you coming to school today?
Legend: Did you miss me?
Wind: Yes and also drama is confusing as fuck and we need help
Wind: And we’re up to your bit and idk if you knew this or not but we can’t do it without you.
Legend: Well that’s absolutely horrible. 
-
Time: Raising money for R U OK day
Time: Because I’m a wonderful example
Warriors: Definitely...
-
Hyrule: MY MUM BOUGHT ME A BUNCH OF MUSHROOM THINGIES
Wild: Very funky
Wild: I bet they taste amazing
Twilight: Wild. No. 
-
*CONTEXT- was looking for inspo for drama*
Legend: Guys 
Legend: What makes me me
Wild: Your lack of emotions
Hyrule: Your legendaryness
Warriors: You look out for everyone like a softie
Twilight: Your humour
Wind: Your hair
Hyrule: OMG U HAVE THE COOLEST HAIR
Sky: Emoness
Wild: Ur ability to throw rocks at my window
Wild: It’s creepy but its unique and no one does that except you. so.
Time: I don’t think this is what Legend meant 
Sky: UR ARTISTIC-NESS
Four: Death glaring everyone
Wind: YEAH YOUR GLARING FACE IS ELITE
-
(9th sept.) 
Hyrule: GUYS
Hyrule: QUEEN LIZZIE IS SICK
Warriors: Nah
Legend: Bro she’s dead
Hyrule: No she’s not
Hyrule: Is she?
Warriors: (image of an article stating that yes, the queen is in fact dead)
Hyrule: WAIT WHAT
Time: Yeah, she’s dead. 
Wind: WHAT THE FUCK
Four: You didn’t know? 
Hyrule: No! My Someone told me that she was really sick last night and she might pass soon
Hyrule: I DIDN’T THINK THAT MEANT LATER THAT NIGHT
Legend: Well now you do
Legend: Congrats
Wild: Wanna know how I found out
Time: Not particularly
Wild: Sends the meme (tHeRe iS nO qUeEn oF eNgLaNd)
Sky: hah Sun sent me a snap saying that ‘this is random but the queen died :) Goodnight’ AND I THOUGHT SHE WAS JOKING
Hyrule: My fyp better not be full of edits of the queen
-
Sky: OMG So apparently wolfie BOOPS DANDELIONS WHEN HE SEES THEM
Sky: And I think you all needed to know that
Sky: SO YOUR WELCOME
Wind: Awwwww that’s so cute
-
Time: *sends photo of cocoa pops with a fork to the group chat*
Wild: Ew 
Four: Are those cocoa pops?
Wind: D u d e
Twilight: That is messed up
Warriors: WAIT IS THAT A FUCKING FORK FOR YOUR CERIAL
-
(This one goes for a while lmao, it was a very heated discussion at 10:30pm)
Time: *photo of ice cream fork*
Time: Twilight didn’t believe me that I eat ice cream with a fork so now I’m forcing all of you to live with this knowledge. 
Hyrule: Wow
Four: Wtf
Hyrule: Have you never done that?
Time: What else do you use to eat ice cream
Sky: Small spoon
Legend: Not a fork
Wind: Yeah, a tiny spoon
Wind: THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO THAT ICE CREAM
Four: Tiny spoon>>>> any other utensil
Wind: Agreed
Hyrule: Why would you use a smol spoon?
Time: That’s dumb
Sky: USING A FORK IS FORKING DUMB
Twilight: Simply wrong.
Time: That is factually incorrect
Wind: It’s against the laws of utensils
Time: I’ve broken plenty of laws already 
Time: One more isn’t gonna hurt
Four: Ice cream isn’t in the fork’s job description
Hyrule: Well that’s just too bad
Hyrule: It’s better than a spoon
Warriors: No. Nothing is better than a tiny spoon
Time: Forks. Forks are better than tiny spoons
Warriors: Nope. I respectfully disagree with you
Legend: I disrespectfully disagree
Legend: Tiny spoons are the best
(this went on for several more minutes}
-
Time: *photo of a chip on a fork*
Wild: Did you just stab it?
Wild: Or balance it
Warriors: What is wrong with you?
Sky: You eat that 
Sky: With your
Sky: FINGERS!
Four: Chips are just gross
Wind: N o
Warriors: Twilight agrees that eating things with a fork is messed up and nonsensical 
Hyrule: What
Hyrule: Tell Twilight to get lost
Warriors: No
Time: Forks are the ultimate cultural advancement
Wild: idk what’s going on at this point
Wild: I disagree with all of you
Hyrule: Rude
Time: Join out side
Wild: No
Legend: Fuck you
Hyrule: GASP
Wind: Gasp quietly bitch
Hyrule:GASP!!!!
Hyrule: GASP!!!!!!!!!!!!
(A lot of debate about whose right and wrong, key points being that Time is always right, Wild refuses to pick a side cos the whole this is dumb and the rest of the group are trying to win Wild over)
-
Time: Ok well turns out that people in Canada do not need knives and forks to eat ice cream
Time: Due to this I shall be moving to Canada
Time: ALSO 
Time: Turns out some people use forks for ice cream cake
Time: Which is dumb cos then u need a spoon
Warriors: Are you serious right now
-
Four: Forks and big spoons are dumb
Wind: Agreed
Time: You guys are wrong
Time: On so many levels
Wild: Shut. Up.
Wind: NO YOU CAN’T SHUT ME UP
Wind: NO ONE CAN
Wind: I WILL BE FOREVER TALKING
Wind: AND PROTESTING AGAINST USING FORKS
Wild: Im gonna put a spoon in the fire
Hyrule: YES BURN THE SPOON
Wind: It’s metal dude
Wind: It ain’t gonna melt
Four: if you get it hot enough
Four: yes, yes it will
Warriors: Imma solder the lil gaps of a fork so its a spoon
Hyrule: BLASPHEMY
-
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autistic-lalli · 2 years
Text
Close Read of the Adventure 1 Page 385-391 Flashback
Or, The Hotakainens Weren't Doing So Hot At Keuruu, Really
I said in my tags I was only going to do a fic or close read the flashback, but AHA, YOU WERE FOOLED, I’M DOING THEM BOTH!
We’re going to jump straight in with page 387, panel 4:
Page 387, panel 4-6
This event tells us a lot about Lalli as a child, but I think it also raises a lot of questions. Why was Lalli so vague with his report? Was he especially tired that day? Did he just not care? Did he think a simple “kyllä” communicated everything the skalds needed to know?
I think the answer to that last question is probably a yes; Lalli’s one to assume that other people should know what he’s thinking. If this is an exception in his work, though, then I think there’s a more subversive issue at hand: Lalli was under some kind of stress, and his mistake did cost lives (or at least serious injuries; it’s not clear if anyone actually died,) but that stress isn’t ever addressed directly. This is a tricky situation, don’t get me wrong! When your work has such high stakes it’s hard to balance letting people be human and holding people to a necessarily high standard.
(But, on that note, maybe part of the solution is not placing the safety of entire squads on the backs of like, thirteen-year-olds.)
Page 388, panel 1-2
But, the higher-ups do offer grace for Lalli’s mistake, at the very least. No punishment is issued, and additional training is required to prevent such problems again. However, it’s almost more problematic that Lalli isn’t singled out. He’s learned his lesson, sure, but if the problem isn’t just Lalli “not using his words,” then is the problem really solved? Or is Lalli simply going to internalize even more stress and anxiety?
Page 388, panel 4-9
I think seeing the intermediate step of the entire Hotakainen dynamic is incredibly interesting. It’s clear that Tuuri has always played haphazard peacemaker, being the only one of the three of them who has any desire to openly solve conflict (is she good at it? Absolutely not.) She’s worried about Lalli, and would like to check on him, but isn’t able to reach out effectively. I often condemn Tuuri pretty harshly for the way she treats Lalli in conflict towards the end of Adventure 1, but I suspect their relationship wasn’t always like this. I bet Tuuri tried really hard in the earlier days to keep herself and her family all connected and together. But without Onni and Lalli’s help (and, let’s be honest, a therapist,) she never stood a chance of actually keeping them all together and healthy.
(There’s also something to be said about Tuuri and gender roles. It stands out to me that the only woman among the three of them is the one who is ever actively trying to solve interpersonal conflict. There are, of course, a lot of other reasons and factors for this imbalance, but it’s also interesting to observe.)
Page 389, panel 2-5
Okay at this point I went on a 30-minute tangent to try and figure out what kind of bread Lalli was eating. Anyways, Lalli grabbed a stimmy samefood when he’s upset and he’s so valid.
It’s probably also good to note that Lalli hides, yes, but he doesn’t have to work very hard to hide. He’s easily able to find time by himself—something that is probably both to his benefit and to his detriment.
Page 389, panel 6-7 through page 390, panel 1-6
ALRIGHT KIDS we’re gonna spend some time unpacking these four lines.
First of all, talking about approximate ages—Onni’s age is harder to track visually, but Lalli and Tuuri’s appearances help guide us more. I place Lalli at about eleven or twelve, which puts Tuuri in the ballpark of thirteen or fourteen, and Onni about nineteen or twenty. And let me say, holy shit. That’s a terrible time of life to try and navigate on your own, and an even harder spread of ages to navigate as a group. Onni’s just entered adulthood, Tuuri’s just hitting puberty, and Lalli’s a preteen. People don’t handle that gracefully without trauma.
It's only been two or three years since Saimaa, and the trauma? On this scale? That’s super fresh. The Hotakainens are vulnerable and in massive stages of transition. Everything is raw and they are not at their best.
“Give me an acceptable explanation.”
And Onni wants an explanation. He came away from Saimaa knowing one thing, and teaching Lalli the same: they don’t make mistakes. They can’t make mistakes. They can’t afford it. He’s trying to hold Lalli accountable, and he is! But he’s doing it so badly because he doesn’t know any better.
And I don’t think we can blame him. The only model any of the kids had was Ensi—and presumably the other scouts and hunters, the individuals directly responsible for the entire village’s safety. It was probably deeply damaging to Lalli to go out scouting so young; yes, vital to the village’s survival to train him starting very early, but an enormous amount of stress to subject a nine-year-old to. Ensi was harsh and precise when the moment called for it, and that’s how Onni has learned to teach.
A key difference, though, is that Ensi was teaching children who were also supported by a larger community. While the Hotakainens are at least generally supported in Keuruu, it’s simply not the same—here they’re workers. It’s not their family. And here they’re children coming in lost and afraid with virtually no safety net.
“Leave me alone! I’ve made one mistake! Less than others!”
Lalli is already buckling under the pressure placed on him. He’s an actual child in the military, for starters (a different problem for a different post,) and he’s a child who’s both seen and experienced horrific things. Putting that child in charge of information that dozens of people depend on for safety? He’s been set up for failure.
It’s implied from the scout meeting that even the apprentice scouts work independently. So Lalli is a child who works on his own, doing a vital job that multiple people depend on, all while carrying fresh grief and intense trauma.
All that to say, Lalli is tired, stressed, and worn out. He’s had no chance to recover from the outbreak, and likely wouldn’t even know how to start even if he had the time and the space. Onni’s just as lost as Lalli—he carries just as much responsibility and grief, simply in different areas.
“Never try that excuse again! We’re not allowed to make mistakes, not under any circumstances! Grandma made one mistake, and see where that got us.”
Onni is worn out, too. Raising younger family members is a traumatic experience all on its own, and the additional circumstances aren’t helping. Quite frankly, he just doesn’t know what he’s doing. Onni’s entire world got ripped out from under him and he’s still trying to pick up the pieces.
He knows one thing, though: mistakes cost lives. Mistakes can kill you and other people. One mistake gave them the pain they have today.
I suspect Onni, and probably also Lalli (jury’s out on Tuuri,) carries a lot of resentment towards Ensi. It probably ebbs and flows over the years, but Ensi was the closest to being able to do something, and she didn’t. Ensi could have escaped the kade, and she didn’t.
One thing that’s particularly interesting is this “we.” It obviously refers to Onni and Lalli, but is that it? They both have high-stakes jobs, it’s very reasonable for them to aim for a high standard, but this reference seems more personal. Other people here have high-stakes jobs, too. But Onni and Lalli specifically aren’t allowed to make mistakes.
Because Onni wants them to make up for Ensi’s mistake. Onni and Lalli don’t just carry the trauma of their childhoods, they carry the guilt. Their family made a mistake that cost dozens of lives, and it’s up to them to make up for it.
To make a mistake is to bring death to some and suffering to the rest.
“Come and eat something proper.”
At the end of the day, Onni does care about Lalli—he’s just pretty abominable at showing it. He’s trying incredibly hard to take care of Lalli, but the situation is more complicated than that. Not only is Lalli approaching his teenage years, a time of life when kids start to resist more direct caretaking as they begin to find their own boundaries, but Lalli’s also had to grow up far too fast. He’s super independent, which makes Onni’s already poor attempts at caregiving and connection unusually clumsy and ineffective.
“...Going to bed...”
Here we see that the patterns of the adults in Adventure 1 have existed for years. For both Lalli and Onni, when one doesn’t want to participate in a discussion, they simply... leave. Lalli feels embarrassed, condemned, and unsupported. In all likelihood he’s going to go to bed, have a good little cry about it, and go to sleep. Lalli and Onni care so deeply about each other, but their communication has never been super clear. In many ways, it’s the Hotakainens against the world, all they have is one another, but when the world isn’t being antagonistic? The stress quickly breaks down the substance of their bonds, leaving them even more isolated as they struggle to connect with one another.
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gaywriterlincs · 2 years
Text
Volume 1, Episode 2: Tyler Perrin
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I had barely paid any attention in that lesson and as soon as the dismissal bell rang, I packed my notebooks and pens and exited as quickly as possible. All I could think about was how amazing Thomas’s aftershave smelt and how his gingery hair was perfectly aligned with his face. I jogged down the corridor and took a sharp left. I had been attempting to reach the far stairs which descended to the school exit, before anyone else could.
“Leo!”
A loud voice exclaimed from behind, a voice I recognised. I stopped instantaneously before turning to face the voice. My cheeks were burning from the turbulent exercise I had just participated in but also due to the sheer embarrassment of the last hour. Tyler looked right through me before smirking; his upper lip pursed on his teeth – more like a horrifying grimace.
“You look… content.” He cautioned as he jogged over to me, taking in extra oxygen with each breath he took.
Seconds later he stood by my side. Tyler was your average-looking geek; long curling brunette hair and a pair of crooked glasses sat askew on his larger-than-average nose. He was also what a medical professional would classify as obese. However, it had never really caused him any issues – big-boned is what my mother would have called him. We had met whilst at primary school and had remained friends ever since. We knew everything about each other, even down to the finer points which should have been reserved for ourselves only. In every way, we were one. I placed my hand on his large bicep and dragged him down the corridor towards the exit. “Can we please leave?” I asked pushing open one of the double doors with my free hand. The snow had come down hard during the last hour, and the path was barely visible except for the odd strand of grass peeking out of its new blanket. Our feet crunched and sank into the fresh white snow, we were the first to walk on it, and it was as good as I remember it being. I let go of Tyler’s arm and we travelled towards the rusting school gates with little conversation. We had almost made it out of the large metallic green gates when we both heard the loud conversations erupt behind us, as everyone began to leave the school. I sighed, the utopian quiet now disappearing. I placed my scrawny hand into my trouser pockets and pulled out my mobile. One new text message. I clicked on the message icon and opened the text message.
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“It looks like we’re walking Tyler,” I said pulling my blazer closer to my chest to keep some of the warmth in.
“That’s all right, it’s a little chilly though but what’s wrong?” he replied.
“Ollie is sick.” Ollie was my younger brother whom she and my dad absolutely adored. I mean they still adored me but I think there was a little more love towards him than there was myself. Tyler replied with a head nod and pulled his blazer closer to his body too. We had only been walking for a few minutes before Lewis and his gang had managed to make their way behind us. However, there was one more in tow. Thomas. He still had his red rosy cheeks but this time it was not from sheer embarrassment but from the cold snowy weather. I swooned ever so slightly and Tyler punched me in the arm, playfully. “Ah, that explains it,” Tyler joked as he began laughing as the butterflies began circulating my stomach again. Lewis was too preoccupied with the new addition to his group that he, nor did any of the others, say anything to us as the group marched past the pair of us. The snow had become intermittent as we made our way home and I watched Thomas join in the snowball fight up ahead of us, with no care in the world. He had been initiated by Lewis, and I would soon be one of Thomas’s targets. 
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tarydarrington · 3 years
Text
"Alright, everyone," Veth says with authority, and everyone else quiets down. "Tomorrow is the big day."
Caleb sighs and ducks behind his drink. There is a speech coming. This is exactly the sort of ceremony he had hoped to avoid by having this get-together at his home rather than the bar Veth had suggested. It's only five of them, tonight; Beauregard and Yasha are always in town, and Veth had insisted on coming. And Essek, of course. He's not sure when the elf's presence at his side became an of course, but in a careful way, he likes it.
“As the person in this world who cares the most about Caleb--”
Essek silently quirks an eyebrow at that, and it doesn’t get past Veth.
“Alright, come on, just because you got him into bed and I didn’t doesn’t mean--”
Caleb clears his throat loudly, and Veth’s smile snaps back into place.
“As Caleb’s oldest, dearest, truest friend,” she says, and Essek manages to look dignified even while rolling his eyes, “it is my humble duty to tell you all how amazing he is on this momentous occasion.”
“You know, I am starting a new job, not getting married,” Caleb murmurs in her direction.
“And we’re all very proud of you!” Veth replies.
Caleb takes a long drink as the others chime in with agreement. Yasha shoots him a sympathetic look, and he returns a tight smile.
“Come on, man,” Beau says from where she leans against the table, “aren’t you excited, at all?”
He takes a long breath. Excited is a word for it. Ready to vomit at a moment’s notice is perhaps more accurate. The Soltryce Academy is tricky. He’s been back there a few times in recent weeks, for interviews and preparation, and each time, it’s felt like walking through a dream of a place the mind could not quite capture properly.
For whatever purpose, Trent has always wanted Caleb - Bren - to follow in his footsteps. Those footsteps feel a touch too literal in those hallways.
“Caleb?” Beau’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. “You still with us?”
He shakes his head. "Ja. Entschuldigung. There is a lot to think about."
Veth lowers her glass, frowning. "Nobody threatened you, did they? Because I'll have words with them."
"No, nothing like that." Not lately, anyway. He sets his own drink down on the table. "Just a bit worried, perhaps."
"Worried about what?" Beau asks flatly.
Caleb lets out a long breath, looking down at the floor. Where to begin? He’s worried that everything will go wrong. Worried that he’ll turn up with his clothes on backwards, or spill coffee down the front of his shirt, or trip over his words before the lesson even starts. Worried, most of all, about what comes after.
“I hope that I will not…” He searches for the right words. “I hope that I will be able to serve my students well enough,” he settles on. “The examples I have had were, ah….” Trent Ikithon is not one he wishes to emulate.
Essek frowns. “Carve your own path,” he says. “Someone as brilliant as you are needs no one to emulate.”
“Ja, well, that is fine for throwing together a spell or two, but I imagine the students will need a little more structure.” These are young minds. Any mistakes he makes will stick with them. He, of all people, knows just how much.
“Maybe you could ask them what they want from you,” Yasha pipes up. “You know, make sure you’re doing alright.”
Caleb lets out a long sigh. “Ja, maybe. That is a good idea.” Of course, it also requires that the students in question trust him enough to give him a straight answer.
They sit in relative silence for a moment, working away at their drinks. He hopes Veth doesn’t resent him for stepping on the atmosphere.
“Seriously, man, you’re gonna be great.” Beau knocks back the rest of her drink. “You’re already the best professor I’ve ever known.”
“I do not think the owl counts as a point of comparison,” Caleb deadpans. “Regardless, I will settle for not making a fool of myself for a first impression. That will be difficult enough.”
Beau shrugs, and reaches over to refill her glass. There’s a devious look in her eye that makes him nervous. "So why don't you practice?" she asks.
Caleb looks at her warily. "Practice?"
"Yeah, man." She gestures at the others. "Here's your class. Teach us something."
Before he can object, she’s already begun to pull an armchair toward the coffee table in the center of the room. Soon enough, three more seats have joined it, all on the same side. She throws her arms wide with a challenging grin.
“First day,” she says. “Don’t be late.” With that, she flops down onto the rightmost chair.
Transfixed in bemusement, Caleb watches as Yasha and Veth rush to occupy the next two seats in the makeshift classroom. The Expositor commands a room, it seems.
“Are you comfortable with this?” Essek murmurs as he brushes past as well. “I am willing to be the, ah... wet blanket, if need be.”
Caleb sighs, briefly twining their fingers together and squeezing once before letting him go. “Not comfortable, no, but it’s not a bad idea.”
Someone wolf whistles from the peanut gallery, and Caleb turns a fond glare on them all. All three of them are, of course, the picture of innocence. He shakes his head as Essek settles down primly in the last remaining chair. It’s not exactly the picture of an academic setting, with their glasses of half-finished booze still on the table in front of them and the lot of them draped over armchairs and ottomans.
“Alright,” says Beau, who has not even bothered to put her drink down. She makes a trilling sound that he thinks is probably meant to emulate a school bell. “Hit us.”
"We will be brutally honest," Veth promises. "Which means we will tell you honestly how perfect you are."
"Or if there's anything you could do better," Yasha adds.
Caleb stares back at them. It’s nothing he hasn’t gone over in his own head a hundred times. Even once or twice, to a captive audience of cats. It’s a short class. It will be over before he knows it.
The others look up at him expectantly. Watching him. Waiting. Caleb clears his throat.
"I, ah... feel a bit silly,” he admits.
Without a word, Essek waves a hand, and the familiar faces before him shift to those of strangers.
It’s almost embarrassing how much it helps. Caleb takes a deep breath and lets it out, running through the lesson plan in his head.
"Guten Morgen, class, I am, ah… Professor Widogast." It's the first time he's said that particular pair of words out loud.
"Whoo!" the student who is not Veth shouts.
"Yeah!" the student who is not Beau chimes in.
Caleb gives them a look and straightens his coat. "This is Introductory Transmutation, in room 142, so if you are all in the correct place--"
"Professor?" The student who is not Yasha raises her hand.
"Ah, ja, Miss…"
"Lionett."
Not-Beau slaps a hand over her own mouth and mutters, “Holy shit,” into it.
“Was that too much?” not-Yasha whispers.
“Babe, it was so hot,” not-Beau hisses back.
Caleb clears his throat. "Miss Lionett, do you have a question?"
Not-Yasha seems to suddenly remember her role, and she folds her hands in her lap. "No," she says, "I have to use the bathroom."
Caleb pinches the bridge of his nose as not-Beau bites back a giggle. “Ja, okay, go.”
“Don’t let her go!” not-Veth interjects. “She knew it was almost time for class; she should have gone earlier.”
“Dude, if she has to pee then she has to pee,” not-Beau protests.
Pointedly, not-Essek raises his hand.
Caleb lets himself sigh with relief. “Ja, Master…?”
“Gross, Professor, we don’t need to know about your weird sex dynamics,” not-Beau says.
Not-Essek’s face blooms red, and Caleb presses a hand to his face to hide the same. “You know very well, Beauregard, that it is an honorific.”
Not-Beau shrugs, looking very pleased with herself as she takes another sip of her drink. Not-Essek glares very polite daggers at her before clearing his throat.
“Thelyss,” he answers.
Beau cups both hands around her mouth and boos.
“No, it’s better that he’s honest,” Veth says. “We already know he’s a terrible actor.”
“Herr Thelyss,” Caleb says, raising his voice above the heckling. “Do you have a question?”
Essek leans forward, resting his elbows on the table in a gesture that’s much too endearing. “I wondered what you will be teaching us today, Professor Widogast.”
Caleb tries not to dwell on the way the title hits differently on Essek’s voice, instead straightening up and waving one hand behind him. An illusory chalkboard appears in the air behind him to polite applause from Veth and Yasha. Back on track.
“Well, this is your first day,” he says. “So I know that - Beauregard, please remove your feet from the table - I know that most of your other teachers will be spending time going over the material that you will be covering this semester, but, ah…” What is he meant to be doing with his hands? They feel limp if they’re at his sides, but too formal behind his back and too awkward in front of him. Perhaps he should have a lectern? Somewhere to rest them, or shuffle with papers?
His gaze drifts back to his “students,” who all blink back at him expectantly. Essek inclines his head as though to prompt him on. He clasps his hands in front of his chest, hoping it will do for now.
“Right,” he continues. “Ja, so I thought we would take a look at something more practical to start. We will leave the reading for tomorrow; you have enough of that today.”
He waves his hands again, and behind him, a set of runes and diagrams appears on the chalkboard. Above it is written the word Prestidigitation.
“So, ah, partner up,” he orders. “Introduce yourselves. If there is someone on their own, a group of three is perfectly acceptable.”
“I call Miss Lionett,” Beau shouts, grabbing Yasha’s hand.
“Can I go to the bathroom, first?” Yasha asks.
Caleb gives her an incredulous look.
“I really do need to go,” she says.
He gestures towards the hallway, and she shuffles off. In the meantime, Veth and Essek scoot their chairs closer together. Caleb’s gaze lingers questioningly on Beau, who shakes her head.
“She’s not learning anything tonight, man. Go ahead.”
“Ja, okay,” he says distantly.
It feels silly, explaining the spell to this motley crew. Beau has leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes glassy, clearly not paying an ounce of attention. Essek has produced a piece of paper upon which Veth occasionally scribbles, though the way he periodically nods approval at Caleb’s points betrays his own prior knowledge of the subject. After a few minutes, Yasha returns and attempts to take down notes of her own.
“Is everyone following along?” he asks after a while, knowing it’s a futile question.
“Yep,” Beau lies.
“Hmm.” Yasha hums.
“Perfectly,” Essek says.
“You’re doing amazing, sweetie,” Veth confirms with a wink.
He continues, running them through the various applications one by one. Beau gives him an occasional “uh huh” that he believes not one bit. At one point, he catches Essek take a passing glance at Veth’s paper, widen his eyes, and lean forward to murmur something to her. He isn’t sure he wants to know what that’s about.
“Let’s keep focused, please, everyone,” he reminds them.
Essek waves a hand to signal him to continue. Nothing too scandalous, then. He goes through the final few points, then comes to stop in front of the chalkboard, hands awkwardly clasped again.
“Okay, that is it,” he says. “You have as much time as you require to finish the spell, and when you are finished, I would like one person from each group to demonstrate.”
He gives the others a questioning look. It’s one of the points he’s most worried about. A way to take pressure off some of the slower students could just as easily be a way to unintentionally foster competition and resentment. But none of them objects, so he gives them another nod.
“I suppose we should skip the demonstration portion,” he mumbles.
“I can do it,” Yasha chirps. Without warning, she swings the massive greatsword from her back and sinks the tip into the table, making the others jump. “I made a small mark.”
Caleb covers his eyes with one hand. “Ja, will it go away in one hour?”
Yasha silently places her drink down over the indentation. Caleb sighs. It isn’t as though he has very many guests, anyway.
“I can probably swing producing an odor, for you,” Beau offers. “But I figure you probably don’t want that.”
He ignores her, and instead gives Essek a tight smile.
“Well, would my second group care to demonstrate?”
Beau jerks a thumb in Essek’s direction and fake-coughs to Yasha, “Teacher’s pet.”
Essek ignores her and sits back, fingers working in those little patterns he draws when something has piqued his curiosity. “I believe so,” he says, and nods to Veth.
Caleb raises his eyebrows as all eyes turn to Veth. Though Essek had the courtesy to leave her a halfling, her features and coloring are entirely different - but that wide smile as she stands and rubs both hands together would give her away, no matter the face it was set in. And as Beau swears under her breath, Yasha and Caleb look on wide-eyed, and Essek watches with a smirk, she pulls her hands apart to let loose a shower of sparks.
“You… learned the spell,” Caleb says numbly. He hadn’t imagined any of them were actually paying attention.
“It was an excellent lesson!” Veth replies.
As she takes her seat again, Beau and Yasha give her a smattering of stunned applause. Essek clears his throat pointedly.
“And I guess, maybe, Essek gave me one pointer,” Veth amends with an eye-roll.
“Hey, so your partner system worked,” Yasha points out.
It had. The lesson had worked, the procedure had worked - his teaching had worked. There’s still a little voice in his head reminding him that Veth is brilliant, and an adult, and perfectly capable of learning things like this without even so much as his help - but he can’t deny that it’s his guidance that taught her this particular spell. ‘An excellent lesson,’ Veth had said. In this moment, he’s inclined to believe it might be half true. Caleb realizes very suddenly that he’s beaming.
With a snap of his fingers, Essek dispels the disguises. The soft smile on his face - his real face, and Caleb always misses it dearly when it’s hidden - says he hasn’t failed to notice Caleb’s relief.
“Danke, all of you,” he says sheepishly, waving a hand to vanish the chalkboard.
“Thank you!” Veth says. “For the shiny new spell and for the masterclass in professoring.”
“You were really good,” Yasha agrees. “I’m, uh... I’m sorry about the table.”
He dips his head to hide the way his face is flushing. They exaggerate, the lot of them. But there is something to be said for having friends who will say such things. “Ja, well,” he says, “I am not convinced it will translate to an actual class, but I will hope.”
Beau takes another swig of her drink, wiping her mouth afterwards. “Dude, we were the worst and you still managed to teach somebody something,” she says. “Those kids have nothing on us. You got this.”
He offers her a smile, retrieving his glass from the table as Yasha, Veth, and Essek do the same. He hopes it’s true. He hopes that, separate entirely from his ability to teach them the how of magic, he will be able to keep them safe. That he will be able to keep from passing on any damage he received in his own time in those halls.
He catches Essek’s eye, and the knowing look there puts some of the anxious buzzing to rest. He will be better. He will struggle, most likely. He will stumble, inevitably. But he will give better than he got. He’s been practicing that part for years.
“To Professor Widogast!” Veth shouts, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Professor Widogast,” the others echo, and Caleb smiles.
“To my very good friends,” he replies.
“To the hottest professor the Soltryce Academy has ever seen,” Veth shouts in response, and Caleb nearly chokes on his drink when Essek casually clinks his glass against hers with a nod.
They drink together. Caleb thinks, just a little bit, he might be excited.
-
thanks @peregrintook for reading this over and telling me it wasn't the worst thing i had ever written (in much more generous words than that), and @saturdaysky for catching me red-handed last time i deleted it and being so kind about it 💜
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midnight-in-town · 2 years
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WHA’s worldbuilding : a society in which magic exists can still be flawed
Sexual predators, social inequalities, corruption, poverty, war, famine... “magic can erase those... right?”
I gotta say I am loving so much that Shirahama-sensei chose to depict in her story the point of view that, no, the existence of magic in a universe doesn’t magically make everything perfect, because only people can work to make society better. 
As such, the current arc of WHA that is starting to culminate is extremely dark on several aspects. In itself, this arc gathers the many proofs in the story so far that the witches’ system is quite flawed and that the ones who suffer the most from it are the children, be they witches or not. Yet, it seems we’re slowly starting to see some changes that could imply a rather positive ending to this arc. 
For example, the new Sage of Friendship who spoke up, because the old one was corrupt...
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Or Lulucy’s backstory and her finding a place amongst a group of witches who fight against what she, amongst others, had to live through. 
Same about Ririfin, who’s now an aide to Beldarut: it seems Riché’s demise eventually opened his eyes and he testified against his previous master.
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These examples make me think that, even with such system, maybe not all is lost for Coustas, a normal boy with next to nothing, whose path recently took a dark turn super fast. 
Truly, he’s the unfortunate embodiment of all the examples in which magic can never become a definite solution tohis issues (because witches don’t act on man-made problems such as poverty and bandit attacks, like the ones who attacked him and Dagda recently + medicine and magic are, by law, inconciliable), even though he needs its help the most. 
Therefore his anger at the system in place is quite understandable... 
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as is his decision to change his fate with the power of forbidden magic:
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However, as I said, no matter how dark the predicament, I want to believe that he’ll eventually manage to be saved from forbidden magic and become another exception of the magic community, just like Coco?
After all, it’s a good lesson to promote through this arc that victims of forbidden magic should be protected instead of punished for being victims, especially children. 
So Coustas eventually being protected by the magic community would imply that other children who are (or will be) victims of forbidden magic (such as Eunie++ and, who knows, maybe Ininia) could also still have a place to come back to, instead of having to run away to save themselves. 
Additionally, erasing Coustas’ memories would have a really negative impact on Coco’s and Tartar’s personal paths, since they too question the strict laws around the Secret...
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...And we know Coco was already extremely close in the last arc from choosing a different path, had Qifrey’s answer to her fear been different, so it makes sense that adult witches would better try to help Coustas, otherwise Coco will keep on spiralling down until she probably chooses Iguin’s side. 
Honestly, I don’t know what you guys think but Beldarut seems like a good candidate for eventually taking Coustas under his wing? 
I mean, the guy taught Qifrey who was a child experimented on by the Brim Hats and he recently asked Coco to become his apprentice so that he could protect her. Besides, he’s a disabled but extremely powerful witch, so it would make for a nice imagery, since Coustas is also a broken and disabled young boy who really had no real chance in life so far. 
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Oh and I’m thinking that, since Tartar is also looking for a master and has an eye affliction, he could study along with Coustas under someone who would understand in what way they are different and thus what they need. We’re not there yet at all obviously, but I’m trying to think positive otherwise this arc will destroy me with feels.
Lastly, I wonder about the young prince’s recent involvement in this arc. It’s not clear yet whether he’s the current king’s son or younger brother, but since he’s got a brushbug with him (a black one, how cute), I wonder exactly how much he knows about magic (since brushbugs are attracted to magic ink)? 
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So what is it gonna be? If he already found out that magic can actually be drawn by anyone, does this mean that the magic community will have to carefully weigh the pros and cons of erasing the kingdom prince’s memories? Not sure this would bode well, politically speaking. So this could force witches to carefully examine which cases need their memory erased vs who needs protection and magic education from now on.
Or maybe the prince is just supposed to be a witness in the king’s stead, though? Because, as we can see, clearly magic on its own cannot solve everything and it’s also up to monarchs and kings to protect and improve life in the Zoza Peninsula.
That’s about it. Amazing chapters and I can’t wait for more!
Don’t hesitate to let me know what you think!
It’s an amazing manga, please give it a try!
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wincore · 3 years
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romeo roulette | jung yoonoh
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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
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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. 
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.  
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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. 
2K notes · View notes
h2bakugou · 3 years
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『 𝗵𝟮𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 』 ✦  𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗗𝗡𝗜
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𝐈𝐕. 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗱 ✦ 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀-𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴
𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ; between you and izuku’s relationship, sex was always something to touch on later, both literally and figuratively. so when you go to your closest guy friends seeking advice on how to please your boyfriend, they give you much more of hands on lesson than you had expected.
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; katsuki bakugou, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero x reader
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; 18+, smut, swearing, porn with plot/little plot, cheating, dub-con, virgin!reader, virginity stealing, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, cum play, spit play, spanking, fingering, bukkake, orgy, split roasting, biting, mentions of porn, partial revenge sex, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, degradation, masturbation, double penetration, recording
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ; this came to me on a whim, i really needed to just get this out of my head. i’ve been in a weird headspace and this prompt just kinda came up and stuck with me. apologies for any spelling/writing errors, this piece was not proofread!!
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 6.7k
✦  𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁 ✦
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Wanting to be the perfect girlfriend for your ever so lovely boyfriend was becoming more of a challenge. Izuku was an angel, and heaven-sent. He was as sweet as he could be. And you loved him for all that he did for you.
Helping you study for your college classes, taking you on cute picnic dates to watch the sunset. 
You were lucky to have a guy like him. But having a perfect guy like him meant you could also lose him. And you didn’t want that at all.
The two of you had never dabbled much into sex and all of its activities. There was the time you’d grinded against his lap, or made out while he jerked off under you, but you’d never done anything with him, just like he’d never done anything with you.
You were both nervous, but you wanted your first time together to be something special. Something you could both cherish. You wanted it to be perfect for him. 
Since porn was the last place you wanted to take advice from, you swallowed your nerves and bit the bullet, asking your best group of guy friends if you could hang out at their flat for a bit.
And of course, in the group chat, you were all in together, they welcomed you over with open arms.
You settled on their couch instantly recognizing the neutral grey walls as your second home when you weren’t pacing around your own flat. 
“So what’s up girlie?” Kaminari asks, already laying his head in your lap like usual.
“I have a really big favor to ask you all.” You stare worryingly at the floor, just past Kaminari’s head.
“What is it? You know we’re here to help.” Kirishima chimes in, honestly expecting some bad news.
“Don’t tell me that shithead Deku’s causing problems.” Bakugou grunts from his spot beside you on the couch.
“No, no. It does have to deal with Deku, but er...” You pause, swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat before spitting it out.
“We keep having these sexual moments, and I just wanna please him but I don’t know where to start so I thought I would ask you guys what feels good for men.” You suddenly feel as if the world has caved in, your frame much smaller than anyone else’s in the room.
As if a lightbulb had flicked on simultaneously in the male’s heads, they all gathered around you.
“Well, I know for a start, I like it when they look at me when they blow me. Makes me feel in control.” Kaminari grins.
“Yeah it’s the only time you’re in control.” Sero jokes. Kaminari slaps the ravenette and rolls off of your lap, sitting up beside you.
“So you want to have sex with Izuku finally?” Kirishima asks. You nod sheepishly, still embarrassed to be so open about your sex life, or lack of one, with some of your best friends.
“Have you ever had sex before?” Bakugou asks bluntly. Your silence speaks volumes as the four men around you all seem to get the same idea yet again.
“We can give you some tips!” Kirishima’s words aren’t supposed to have a double meaning, but in a matter of seconds, Bakugou’s standing right in front of you, gazing down at you with lust-filled eyes.
“Take my belt off.” He speaks clearly.
“W-wait you guys are just supposed to teach me-”
“We are. Hands-on teaching seems to show the most progress does it not?” Kaminari butts in, his hands creeping up on your sides, dipping under your arms to undo the buttons on your blouse.
“We’re gonna help you understand what feels good for us! We can teach you better this way, so pay close attention.” Sero stood behind Bakugou, slinging his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder.
“If this is gonna help, I guess it won’t be too bad.” You mumble, your timid hands reaching for Bakugou’s belt.
“Look at me.” Bakugou’s voice ushers for your gaze. Your eyes travel up his clothed chest to his crimson eyes.
“Good girl.” Bakugou grinned, watching as your eyes widened.
“Bet stupid Deku doesn’t praise you.” Bakugou huffs. Your hands eventually undo his belt and now you stare at his abdomen. Bakugou tugs his shirt off over his head, revealing his toned chest. 
You’re in awe.
“Izuku doesn’t look like that.” You think out loud, figuratively drooling over your best friend. Bakugou feels a strong sense of pride as he glances at Kaminari, who’s finally able to tug your shirt off and reveal those pretty tits he’s beat his dick to at night.
Photos of you in swimsuits, or teasing clips you’d posted to your instagram stories late at night in a bra or some sort of revealing top while you hung out with your girlfriends, Denki kept them all in a hidden folder and let out embarrassing moans when his hand jerked his cock at them.
“So pretty.” Kaminari mumbles, biting your shoulder as he unclamps your bra, finally seeing them in person, unobscured.
“Deku’s so fucking lucky.” Kaminari hisses, grabbing them roughly, kneading them in his hands harshly.
You whine, whether in pain or pleasure is unsure, the feeling of Kaminari’s hands kneading your tits like their just dough is making your cunt throb. And it suddenly feels so much hotter in the room when your eyes widen at the size of Kaminari’s bulge as you glance over at him.
“Does he touch you like this?” Kaminari whispers, his fingers twisting your nipples, tugging them between his thumb and forefinger as the rest of his hand continues to cup and massage your breasts.
“N-No. He’s never touched me.” You whine, your head hanging on your shoulders, embarrassed to be so turned on by this. This was wrong-
“Get my cock out. It’s time for you to learn how to suck someone off.” Bakugou places his hand on the back of your head and yanks your hair back, forcing you to look at him.
“Go on, or you won’t like when I do it myself. I’ll use your throat like a fleshlight.” Bakugou’s voice drops, watching as your hands find their way back to his pants.
“How come he gets to get blown first?” Kirishima mumbled to Sero, the pair gradually undoing their own pants, slowly palming over their clothed erections.
“Because I hate Deku the most.” Bakugou grunts.
“Oh fuck.” You curse, staring at Bakugou’s cock in awe. 
“I’ve never seen one in person before...” You babble, completely shocked by the pure length and girth of the cock that’s twitching in front of you. Bright pink cockhead, with a prominent vein on the underside, he’s fucking huge. And for a second you wonder if you can even open your mouth wide enough to take even the head of him in your mouth.
But you get your answer soon enough.
“So innocent.” Sero’s ashamedly turned on by your innocence. The way you stared at Bakugou’s cock like it was the only thing in the room was enough to make him excited. He wanted to steal every moment from you. He wanted to ruin you.
“Open your mouth. Tongue out.” Bakugou instructs. You do as you say and you can see Bakugou visibly tense. His shoulders relax as he grips the base of his cock and slaps the head of it on your tongue.
“Rule number one. No teeth. Ever.” Bakugou makes this rule very evident as he taps his dick against your tongue.
“If it’s too much, tap me three times.” Bakugou says in a slightly gentler tone, almost as if he knew you were going to need to tap out. 
“Well, it’s not gonna suck itself.” Bakugou huffs, smirking down at you. You try to think straight but nothing’s working. You search in the dirtiest parts of your brain, trying to remember all the magazines you’d seen telling you how to suck a guy to make him cum, but as you took Bakugou’s cock into your mouth, just past the tip, your jaw was already starting to ache.
Kaminari’s hands had traveled down to your shorts, teasing your bare skin as he slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties.
“Holy fuck.” Bakugou murmured, glancing back at Kirishima and Sero, who had now whipped their cocks out, stroking them while their pants sat pooled around their ankles.
“Is she good?” Sero asks, glancing over Bakugou to look down at you. You were clearly struggling, your hands resting in your lap awkwardly, not sure of where or what to do with them.
“Here, get on your knees down here.” Bakugou pulls his cock from your past your lips with a small ‘pop’ sound, his strong arms tugging you down off the couch, leaving Kaminari alone up there.
He quickly hops down too, sitting down behind you, taking the chance to play with your tits some more, biting and kissing your neck and shoulder.
Sero and Kirishima stand on opposite sides, now trapping you between all four males, one on each side of you.
You gaze at Sero’s cock. It was long, and lean, a significant curve set his apart from Bakugou’s. It was a bit thinner but still looked like it could do some serious damage.
Kirishima, on the other hand, seemed to outweigh them both. His cock was fat and hung along with the biggest balls you’ve ever seen-note you’ve seen three pairs so far.
It was thick, long, and veiny. And you were scared. If you could barely fit Bakugou’s in your mouth, you knew for a fact his wouldn’t fit at all.
“Such a needy little thing, aren’t ‘cha?” Kirishima teased as your hands daintily reached up to stroke Sero and Kirishima’s cocks. Something you’d seen in a porno once, where a girl was in a position similar to yours.
“Where’d you learn that one?” Kaminari teases, licking your shoulder.
“P-porn.” You stutter out.
“Oh.” Sero laughs.
“What a dirty girl you are.” Kirishima’s hips thrust forward, allowing your hand to complete the first stroke from the tip to the base.
You lean forward and take Bakugou’s cock back into your mouth, staring up at him as he grunts. His hands find their way to your hair, forcing you to take his length.
So much for going in slow and easy.
You’re sure you see the heavens for a moment. Your vision blurs with tears as Bakugou’s cock hits the back of your throat. Your hands stop moving on Sero and Kirishima’s cocks as you take a moment to adjust.
You mewl, your voice reverberating against Bakugou’s cock, the vibrations sending chills down his spine. He takes control, using your mouth as his own personal fucktoy.
And you were completely helpless. Besides the tears on your lashes and the ache in your jaw, your hands returned to jerking off the men beside you, your eyes still set on staring up at Bakugou as he smirked pridefully at you.
And then you felt it. Kaminari’s hands had slid down into your panties, his fingers just barely ghosted over your clit before you forced yourself down to the base of Bakugou’s cock, your hips jerking from the sensation alone.
“Woah there.” Kaminari pulled his hands out, giggling.
“Someone’s never felt that before.” He teases. You tap Bakugou’s leg three times and he pulls out, almost disappointed.
“Are you alright?” 
“Does it feel good to be touched down there?” You ask your hands reaching to remove your shorts.
“I think you’re talking to the wrong crowd for that.” Kirishima jokes. 
“Dumbass. Of course, it feels good. Don’t tell me you’ve never-”
“No! No! I’ve tried I could just never, make myself...” 
“Oh my god.” Kirishima and Sero give each other an almost pitiful stare.
“And Deku’s never pushed sex so I always thought something was wrong with me. What if I can’t cum? How can I please him if I can’t-”
“Hey. Why don’t we help you out? Clearly touching you there evoked some sort of reaction, why don’t you relax and let me see if I can work something out of you.” Kaminari offers, rubbing your sides. You nod shyly. 
Spreading your legs similarly, your movements are slow and timid as if you're scared to make a wrong move. Kaminari glances up to the others as they quickly picked up, Bakugou kneeling down to help remove your shorts and panties, which had a small damp spot, one Bakugou didn’t miss.
“You’re already soaking your panties. You’re enjoying this.” Bakugou retorted, staring in awe of your glistening cunt, one his childhood best friend had claimed before him.
It ate away at Bakugou daily. Seeing the two of you walk to classes together, or whenever you’d post snaps of you laying on his chest after he fell asleep during a movie night.
Or the way he’d call you baby in front of all your friends. It pissed Bakugou off. He was in love with you.
But oh was Bakugou going to take this chance by its reigns. He was going to show you exactly what you were missing being with that stupid nerd.
And even more so. Bakugou was going to take your virginity away from you, and away from the guy who you clearly thought was going to.
“Damn Deku really is lucky.” Sero whispered, his eyes locked tight onto your dripping cunt. It was beautiful. Sero had his fair share of one-night stands, and hookups, but he’d never seen one that looked like yours. God, it was captivating. He wanted to feel your tight, plush walls hugging his cock as he fucked into you from behind.
And then there was Kirishima, who stared in awe as well. His eyes wandered your naked body and wondered if you were truly the same girl going out with Deku. 
Part of you being in a standing relationship was so enticing. Kirishima was nothing short of respectful, but wanting to destroy any sort of expectations you had for your first time with Deku sent his brain and cock into overdrive.
And there you were, legs sprawled out, cunt dripping your essence onto the soft carpeted floors, your back pressed into Denki's chest as his fingers reached down and spread your pussy apart.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt like you were going to implode. Your senses were heightened, and the slightest touch between your thighs made you squirm. Denki chuckled as the other males salivated over you, picking their jaws off the floor was the next step.
"Go on, why don't you find her clit." Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest with an evil grin.
"Oh shut the fuck up." Kaminari's fingers moved from the lips of your cunt to the hardened bud, and with one tiny little touch, you let out an embarrassing whine. Denki grinned as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion over your clit, watching how you quickly clamped your legs together.
"Awe no, let them see just how good I am with my fingers." Kaminari cooed in your ear, using one hand to pry your legs back open, Sero bending down and grabbing the other, forcing them apart. You whined in pleasure as his fingers worked wonders against your clit, your back arching against his chest. 
"Denki!" You cried out, feeling something building up inside of you. Kaminari grinned but Bakugou wasn't having it.
"Oi, enough. I wanna cum down her throat." Bakugou grunted, yanking you up to your feet from your forearm.
"Sit on his face and suck my cock, slut." Bakugou spat, your eyes widening. You nodded, glancing back at Kaminari who was already moving for you to do so. You were nervous, feeling awful for sitting on his face, but you didn't regret a thing when you felt Kaminari's tongue swipe through your folds. 
The cold steel of his tongue piercing made you shiver as his tongue flicked across your clit making you whine. 
"'m ready." You choked out, glancing at Bakugou.
"Us first." Sero stepped in, gripping the base of his cock, tapping it against your lips, similarly to how Bakugou had done. Kirishima stepped up and nudged his cockhead against Sero's, the two unphased by it.
"I-I can't take both-"
"So take turns." Bakugou said bluntly. You glanced up at Sero and Kirishima, worryingly trying to take Kirishima's cock into your mouth first. You made it just barely past the tip of his fat cock, before you realized your attempt was futile. You brought a hand up to help, stroking the base of his cock while your mouth worked past the tip. Your free hand returned to jerk Sero off, your ego racing as you heard his own grunts of pleasure.
"She's a quick learner." Kirishima grins, his hand resting on your head as he guides you gently to take more of his cock into your mouth. Kirishima is saddened when you stop and switch to try and do the same for Sero.
Halfway through the transition, Kaminari's tongue prods through your entrance, making you stop. Your shoulders tense up and you freeze, quickly hunching over, grinding your cunt against Kaminari's mouth, the tips of his nose brushing against your clit.
"Fuck!" You cry, feeling yourself lose control. Your mind turns white for a moment, and all the pleasure begins to hurt as you want to leap off of Kaminari's tongue. But his strong arms wrapped around your thighs holding you in place stop you from doing so.
"It-it hurts! Please." You pant, your lips parted as you mewl against his face.
"He fucking did it. He made her cum." Sero groaned. Your head shot up, staring at the ravenette.
"T-that was-"
"A female orgasm? Yeah. Felt weird and tingly, and when he kept going it hurt. Fun huh." Sero grins. 
"Dude, let her explain it." Kirishima sighs. 
"It felt good. Really good. I've never felt anything like that before." You go to continue your job of blowing Sero, but he stops you. 
"Let's take this to Bakugou's room." Sero smirks. 
You're on your feet in a matter of seconds until the boys toss you onto Bakugou's cozy bed, the one you've crashed on multiple times while he was away or while he slept on the couch.
This time, Sero was quick to take control of the situation, ushering you to the edge of the bed where your head hung off. Sero smiled down at you, tapping his cock against your lips again as you eventually opened it for him. Before sliding it in, Sero leaned down and spit into your mouth, cutting any possible complaints off by shoving his cock down your throat.
"Fuck." Sero dragged out, watching as Kirishima took the opportunity to plant himself between your thighs, his tongue diving into your cunt. Your moans were silenced by Sero's cock as he fucked your throat raw. Kaminari was the only one who hadn't been inside your throat. But he was doing just fine, teasing himself with his hand, forcing himself to stop every time he felt like cumming at the sight of you being used by his friends.
"She tastes so good. Want more." Kirishima muttered against your cunt, using one hand to spread you open as his tongue wrecked your clit, his other hand dipped a single finger inside your tight entrance.
"She's so fucking tight." Kirishima commented, rubbing his middle finger along your folds, his knuckle just barely grazing the fleshy walls of your hole.
"I bet." Bakugou muttered.
"Can I fuck her thighs?" Kaminari asked, eyes bright with excitement. It was something he'd dreamt about doing. Feeling your plush thighs squeeze his cock, all while gripping handfuls of your tits, cumming on your tummy. It was a thought he could get off to over and over again.
"Shit. Gonna cum!" Sero groaned, sliding his cock past your lips once more, his cock twitching as he shot his hot load down your throat.
The next few seconds were fuzzy. Sero pulled out and shot up, cum leaking from past your lips. You couldn't swallow it. Shamefully spitting up, feeling horrible, it dropped onto your stomach and began to leak and make a mess.
"Awe, poor thing. Never had anyone cum in your pretty mouth before huh?" Sero patted your head, tilting it back so you could look up at him. Your lips were glossy and glistening with spit and cum, but your eyes were watery.
"Sorry! I-"
"Don't apologize. I should've just cum all over this pretty face instead." He smirked, leaning down, pressing a rough kiss to your lips. Kirishima decides to add another finger, and you're gone, moaning into Sero's mouth, hands gripping the sheets with enough force to turn your knuckles white.
Your thighs clamp over Kirishima's ears, and you find yourself grinding against his tongue and fingers, back arching off of the mattress. Bakugou just stands in awe, whipping out his phone to record the whole scene.
"Alright let Kaminari have his fuckin' turn." Bakugou groans, tugging Kirishima away, watching how your legs twitch as you cum for the second time. You're so sensitive and you don't know why. For the first time, after Sero pulls away, you see Kaminari's cock.
It's a little larger than average. It's pretty and slightly fatter at the head than at the base, and much like Sero's, as a pretty curve in it. Kaminari is eager to sandwich his cock between your thighs, watching how he smiles as he leans down to paw at your tits.
Just as he slides through your thighs, you feel the friction of his cock glide against your cunt, and suddenly you're awakened to yet another new feeling. Your back falls flat against the mattress again, your eyes floating back up to Sero who hovers over you. You go to reach for his cock but he shakes his head and yanks Kirishima over to his spot.
"Be a good girl for Kirishima, he likes to fuck pretty little mouths like yours." Sero grins evilly. You stare at the monster cock above your lips and you hesitate. How does he fucking live with a cock like this? Your cunt throbs just looking at it. You can imagine it buried in your cunt, your legs shaking as you cum over and over again on it.
Kaminari panted as moaned as his cock fucked your thighs, his hands still kneading your tits as Kirishima forced his cock down your throat, this time much slower than Bakugou or Sero had done. Your jaw ached in a much more intense pain. But you squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring it.
"That's it, take my fucking cock down your throat like the stupid little fucktoy you are." Kirishima degraded you. You let your hand travel down between your legs, forcing it to your cunt while not disrupting Kaminari's pleasure.
"Aw look, she wants to cum again." Kaminari quickly snatches your frisky hand back up, slowing his ministrations and slowing the friction of his cock grinding against your cunt.
Kaminari and the rest of the men hear your failed attempt at a whine as you struggle with Kirishima's cock in your mouth. Kaminari's hips move slowly and smoothly, humping your thighs like a needy pup.
Pining your hands to the mattress as he grinds his cock between your thighs, Kaminari lets out a huff before pulling himself away from you.
Kaminari groans and slinks over to Bakugou, whispering something in his ear which only elicits a smirk on his lips. Bakugou passes the word onto Sero who passes it onto Kirishima like a game of telephone.
Suddenly Kirishima's drawing his cock from your mouth and Bakugou's tugging you up.
"Get on your knees." Bakugou instructs, forcing your face down into the mattress, hiking your ass up into the air. Bakugou's palm comes down against your ass, the sound echoing in the full room. You whine into the sheets as he does it again, this time letting his hands grip your cheeks, spreading you apart.
"God, you're fucking dripping." Bakugou's not worried about the mess you've made smearing Sero's cum over his sheets, he'll have to wash them after what's going to happen.
Bakugou leans down into his mattress, tasting you for the first time. You clench the sheets between your hands, mewling in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit and scoops up your juices, most of it dribbling down his chin. He's eating you out like he'd been starved. You're cumming in a matter of seconds as he continues.
"'s too much! Please!" You cry out, your cunt aching in overstimulation. Kaminari had denied you once, and it didn't take much for the need to cum to overtake you.
"Gonna have to fuckin' punish you for that. Did I say you could cum, bitch?" Bakugou pulls away, spanking you once more.
"N-no!" You cry.
"'m sorry!" You apologize, hoping your efforts would spare you humiliation. But oh how wrong you were.
A searing pain rips through you as Bakugou's cock pushes past your entrance. Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth hangs open, a small cry ripping through your throat.
"It hurts!" You cry. Suddenly, the searing pain stops. Bakugou has pulled out, sighing as he moves onto the bed, waving for the guys to join.
Bakugou guides you down onto his cock, however, this time it's more like sitting on his lap. He's propped against his headboard, and you ease down as best as you can. It hurts, but Kirishima and Sero coddle you, kissing on your neck and chest, leaving Kaminari to suck on your nipples, flicking his tongue across your the hardened buds.
Bakugou bottoms out inside of you and all you can feel is the stretch. It hurts, more than anything you've ever felt. It's overwhelming and you can't think at all. Bakugou doesn't move. He rests inside you until you give a weary moan.
"Better?" He asks softly.
"Y-yeah." Your arms sling over the shoulders of the redhead and ravenette attacking your shoulders and neck with kisses and bites.
Bakugou's hands rest on your hips and help you up and down as you begin to bounce on his cock, the tip nudging against a spongey spot inside you, forcing moans to spew from you like a shook-up soda.
"Her moans are so fuckin' dirty." Kirishima speaks against your skin, sinking a hand down to your cunt, his fingers beginning to work at your clit, making you spew even lewder sounds as your moans turn to mewls and cries of pleasure.
"Who knew she could moan like that?" Kaminari laughed, palming at your breasts. You feel embarrassed, letting these men rip you to shreds while trying to learn.
It then dawns on you how you'd ended up in this predicament in the first place. You came here willing to learn, hoping to bring back something to help Izuku, but you'd completely blanked. You couldn't really remember anything they'd taught you, or if they'd taught you anything at all. Once you sucked Bakugou's cock, it'd all happened so fast.
Sitting on Denki's face, stuffing your face full of Kirishima and Sero's cock, cumming on Bakugou's tongue while being face down on his bed. It was all a strange feeling.
And now as your mind began to turn blank, vision clouding from pleasure, you realized you were fixing to cum again, this time from Bakugou's cock. All your pain had melted away-though a dull ache still remained in your abdomen, and turned to pleasure. You were cumming.
You. Were cumming.
Bakugou had taken your virginity.
And Bakugou had come to the same conclusion. As your cunt squeezed and pulsed against his aching cock, so desperately wanting to spill his load inside you and see you plump with his kid, claiming you for his own, stealing you away from that stupid fucking nerd you were with, he realized he had been the one in the end to claim you, and your virginity.
It was a sick and twisted sense of pride, to really think he had any say-so over your body. But there was something so devilishly hot to say that he'd been your first.
"Bakugou!" You cried out, your nails digging into the skin of Kirishima and Sero. Bakugou's cock continued to thrust into you.
"Yeah take my fuckin' cock. Take it you fuckin' whore. Gonna fuck you until you're braindead." Bakugou muttered, reaching a hand up to grip your throat, forcing your back against his chest.
"I wanna see you full of Kirishima's cock. Think you could take it? He'd rip you apart." Bakugou grinned, setting his friend up next. You shook your head against his hand on your throat.
"It's too big!" You cried, hoping that he'd listen to you. But he didn't. Instead, you found yourself back on the mattress, this time on your hands and knees. Weakly you kept yourself upright as Kirishima positioned at your entrance,
"Gonna use you like the little cocksleeve you are." Kirishima chuckles, watching as you squirm as the tip grazes your tight hole. Your cunt is dripping, every little touch seems to make you whine, and you can't tell if you've peed yourself or if you're just that wet. You think the former would be less embarrassing, but you decide to just stop thinking about it, and instead, you thank your body for all the natural lubrication it's making for Kirishima's cock.
Kaminari takes your mouth, sliding his cock inside and finally getting to feel what everyone else had. You can't speak, you can barely make any sounds with how raw they've fucked your throat. And you're painfully aware that they hadn't even bothered to slap on a condom. Not that you'd minded, they'd shown you time and time again that they were clean, and you were happy they'd taken the steps to have safe sex with any partner they had.
Kirishima's fingers leave bruises on your hips, gripping you with force. He sheathes himself inside you and you swear you feel yourself ripping in half.
It's so much, all at one time.
"Holy shit she fucking took you all." Bakugou says shocked, almost as if that was something to be proud of.
"He sent a chick to the ER. That phone call was awful." Sero teases the redhead for one of his mishaps.
"I didn't purposely hurt her! I was just trying to have fun, didn't think my cock was capable of tearing her fuckin' vagina." Kirishima feels a bit awkward talking about a terrible sex story while he's plowing into you, especially since you're too cockdrunk to even realize what's happening.
"Would you two shut up?" Kaminari's grabbing a fistful of your hair as he tilts your head back, sliding his cock down your throat, smiling down at you.
"You're doing such a good job. So fuckin' cute swallowing my cock like that." Kaminari praises. His praises make you feel warm and fuzzy, and you think for a moment, this is what it's like to be loved. But then images of Deku cross your mind. And your gaze drops, and you feel ashamed. You feel dirty.
You repeat to yourself that this is just a learning experience and nothing more. You'd never do this because you weren't satisfied in your relationship. No. You were doing this for Deku. You wanted to show him you knew what you were doing. You wanted to show him he could fuck your throat and make you cum with his tongue.
Kirishima grunted, his cock stretching even further, reminding you of the pain Bakugou had put you through the first time he'd entered you. It burned, but it became tolerable after a while.
"Shit, she's so fuckin' tight. Wanna cum inside." Kirishima groans. Your ears perk up at his words. You want to tell him no, but you can't. You don't. He pulls out before he gets the chance to and you're relieved.
"Sero, your turn." Kirishima trades places with Sero who was stroking his cock watching you get dicked down on both ends. Sero's cock takes you down an undiscovered path.
It seems every time he slides into you, his cock nudges against that spot inside you, making you cry in pleasure as Kaminari swaps places with Bakugou, his cock rammed down your throat once more.
Things become blurry, and all you remember is cumming again and again. When Sero nears his climax, he swaps places with Kaminari and Kirishima takes his chance to fuck your throat.
Kaminari's pace is different from Kirishima, Sero, and Bakugou's. He has no restraint. He fucks you fast, and hard, sending your body forward with each heavy thrust. He might be a bit smaller compared to the males, but he surely makes up for it.
"Out of everyone here, Kaminari has the most experience." Sero chimes in, patting his shoulder while he huffs, pounding into you until you're cumming around his cock, your milky white juices leaking out everywhere.
"She's making such a mess. How pitiful. So how fucked out are you, gorgeous?" Sero asks, watching as Kirishima pulls his cock out from your mouth, drool and saliva dripping past your lips as you choke out a moan.
"Feels-s so good." You babble, your head hangs on your shoulder as you bury it into the mattress, moaning as Kaminari fucks you into yet another orgasm. His stamina is incredible considering you thought he was still new to sex. Sorry Kami.
"She's fuckin' out of it jesus christ." Bakugou mumbles, pulling Kaminari out from between your cunt. Bakugou flips you onto your back and stares at you in amazement. Your legs are shaking and you're still making noise, whining about how you want more and how empty you feel.
"Please, fill me up." You whine, staring at the boys.
"With a face like that, how could we resist?" Kirishima grins, slapping Sero on the ass. Sero rolls his eyes and joins you on the bed.
"Think you can take two at once gorgeous?" Sero coos, laying down beside you, ushering you to lay on top of him. Your mouth drops open as you lower yourself onto him and lay back, watching as Bakugou saunters around to the front. He grins as he lines his cock up at your entrance, just barely pushing his tip inside.
"Kirishima stretched her out good for us to use her like the little whore she is. God, she's so fucking good at this I almost don't wanna give her back." Sero whines against your back, kissing your bare skin as Kaminari watches in amazement as Bakugou sinks his cockhead inside your already full cunt.
"So full. Want your cocks inside me." You manage to blurt out as Bakugou grips your thighs, shoving his cock into your stuffed pussy. It wouldn't fit all the way, but it threw you over the edge.
"Maybe she needs that filthy mouth of hers full of cock again." Kirishima's hand strokes his cock, eyeing Kaminari. Kaminari eagerly hops onto the bed, his knees hitting against Sero's arm as he taps his cock on your lips.
"Come on angel, wrap those pretty lips around my dick." Kaminari smiles, watching as your mouth lolled open. Sero's arms wrapped around your tummy, holding you against him as he fucked up into you, his cock rubbing against Bakugou's inside of you, both cocks rubbing against your walls, making you feel insanely good.
Kirishima was not going to let this moment go to waste. Snatching Bakugou's phone, he began to record, calling you a slut for them.
"Look at this cockdrunk whore. Stuffed full of three fuckin' cocks." Kirishima laughed, holding the phone near your pussy, making sure to record how Bakugou and Sero abused your cunt.
"What would Deku do if he got this nasty little clip huh? Bet he'd call you a slut. Watching his friends fuck your little virgin cunt until you're braindead." Kirishima grinned as he moved and set the phone up to continue recording for the rest of the session.
"Wanna fuckin' fill you up." Bakugou grunted.
"Teach that nerd a fuckin' lesson about how to fuck a woman." He continued.
"She's making such a mess, look at that pretty pussy. So sloppy." Kaminari moaned as your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, trying your best to take him into your mouth. The angle was a bit awkward but you managed, eventually pulling him into your mouth.
"God let's hurry this up, I can't take much more of her cunt squeezing me." Sero huffed into your back. He was going to cum again if he kept going. He wanted to fill you up like everyone else did, but he wanted to see his cum all over your pretty face.
Bakugou pulled out first leaving Sero alone inside you. You let out a strangled moan as Bakugou tapped his cock against your sensitive clit, your cries no longer silenced by Kaminari's cock since he too had pulled his cock from your mouth.
"Get down on the floor, on your knees." Bakugou instructed. Hazily you lifted yourself from Sero's cock, slightly amused by the moan he let out as he slid out of you. You stumbled onto the floor, sitting patiently on your knees as they gathered around you, this time smushing themselves to all have a view of you in the front.
"Can't wait to see you covered in cum." Kaminari spoiled the surprise, his hand jerking his cock. You stared up at Bakugou. Leaning in you licked the tip of his cock, watching as his eyes rolled back. You took turns swapping between the males until they were all helping you out, stroking their cocks at fast paces until Bakugou came.
Hot ropes of cum stuck to your face and chest as Kaminari came second, Sero third, and Kirishima fourth. It dribbled down your chin as you stared up at them, each of them smiling proudly at you.
"So fuckin' slutty. Look at her, so fucked out." Sero said breathily. They all rushed to grab their phones, snapping pictures of you covered in their cum. You just sat quietly, staring up at them as your chest heaved, your cunt throbbing.
"So what'd you learn?" Bakugou leans down, a handful of your hair holding your head back so he could look into your eyes.
"I-I like being stuffed full of cock." You babbled. Your cheeks were stained with his cum.
"Whose cock?" Bakugou's eyes narrowed.
"Yours." You parted your lips, still miraculously trying to catch your breath.
"Good girl." Bakugou praised. The other boys gathered around you, leaning down with towels to help clean you up.
It took about fifteen minutes to clean you up entirely, but afterward, they helped dress you and treated you to some dinner. You were nothing but smiles the entire time.
Before you left their apartment, Bakugou pulled you aside.
"Record your time with Deku so we can give you another lesson." He whispered into your ear, an evil smirk on his lips. You pulled away from him shyly, nodding.
"Thank you for teaching me." You thanked the men as you walked toward the door, an obvious limp in your step.
"Do you need a ride home angel?" Sero asks, ready to hop in his car and drive you over to your shared apartment with Deku.
"I think I'll be okay. I drove here anyway." You giggle. Sero smiles and glances at the others. Visions of your face covered in cum plague Sero's thoughts and he wants to slam you against the front door and fuck you all over again.
The same image is running through everyone's head as they stare at you as you leave, wanting you to stay. But it's too late when the door shuts and they're left alone as if nothing had happened.
"What happened doesn't leave this fuckin' apartment." Bakugou states, trudging off down to his room to put his freshly washed sheets on the bed.
When you arrive home, Deku's happy to see you. He doesn't question where you'd been, he knew you were with the boys hanging out. He smiles when you kiss him, and he's nothing but unaware of what had gone down.
He doesn't know about the cocks that had been stuffed inside your cunt, or a spot or two of dried cum that the towel might've missed that you'll clean up in the shower soon. He doesn't know about how dirty your mouth got and how it was filled with his friend's cocks only hours earlier.
He cuddles you sincerely until your hand begins to wander, palming him through his boxers.
"I'm ready." You smile sweetly, ready to put all that you had learned to the test.
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✦ 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ✦
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(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday
Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)
Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain
Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)
Word count: 4,818
(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.
“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”
“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”
Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”
“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.
Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 
“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”
“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”
“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”
You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 
“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”
“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”
“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 
You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”
“Oh, about that Annie…”
“God, what now (y/n)?”
“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”
The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”
“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”
“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”
“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”
You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”
“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 
“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”
They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.
You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 
“Alright class, pull out your homework!”
Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 
The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.
Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”
“Come up to the board and solve this.”
Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 
“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”
You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 
The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”
“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”
“Are you su-”
“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”
Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 
You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”
It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”
“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”
You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”
“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 
“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”
The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.
You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 
When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 
You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 
You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 
You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 
You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 
You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 
By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 
You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 
The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 
You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 
Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”
She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 
Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 
“Yea-”
“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.
Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”
“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 
Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 
After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”
“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”
“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.
You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”
Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”
Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 
Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”
You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 
You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 
You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 
He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 
You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 
“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”
You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”
Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”
“My back and the back of my head.”
“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.
“What, is it bad?”
“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”
“Damn.”
“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”
“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”
“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”
“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”
“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”
You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”
“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”
“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”
He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”
You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”
You sighed, “when needed.”
He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”
“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”
He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”
He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”
“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.
“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.
You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.
When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 
You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.
“(Y/n), coat.”
You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”
“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 
Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 
Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 
The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 
The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 
The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.
You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 
“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 
“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”
She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 
Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 
She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”
You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 
You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”
You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 
“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”
You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 
“Did you hurt your shoulder?”
“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”
“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”
You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”
He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 
You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.
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rivalry (d.m. x reader)
You and Draco Malfoy have a rocky relationship, at best. It'd be better to describe it as a rivalry. But all it takes is a bit of fire from your end to finally make him snap.
(AKA: I just really wanted to write an enemies-to-lovers trope for my first fic.)
A/N: Hi! First fic. Hope you like it. :)
Contains: Degradation, slight edging, d/s elements, slight dub-con (but not really; full consent is clearly given), light humiliation
Word count: 3.9K
-----
Normally, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be your favorite class. The spells you learn are fun and useful; Professor Lupin is always a plus, and most importantly, you’re good at the subject—so bloody good, you’ve bested even Hermione and Harry multiple times.
But lately, you’ve been finding yourself dreading the lessons. So much, in fact, that you were half-considering asking Hermione to hex you just to get out of your afternoon class.
Why? It’s a pretty easy answer when you got down to it.
Draco Malfoy.
You’d had an ongoing rivalry with the git since third grade. He’s been terrorizing you and your friends, mostly because of Harry, but along the way the two of you had begun building a personal vendetta.
(He probably hasn’t quite yet forgiven you for hexing him so badly he’d had to stay in the Infirmary for weeks, and you certainly haven’t forgiven him for causing your friends so much grief over the years.)
This year, you’d thought you could try your best to avoid him, with your upcoming N.E.W.T.s and all. But DADA had other plans.
Professor Lupin had begun experimenting with mixing up partners for class—it was, after all, a very hands-on class—and had apparently decided that cross-house interaction would build bonds and skill. His exact words were, “If they’re your friend, you’re gonna go easier on them. In the real world, you never know who you’re fighting with—or against.”
So he’d randomized the name list. You, being Gryffindor, knew immediately you wouldn’t be with any of your closest friends—but you hoped that perhaps you’d be paired with Cedric, or Luna, or anyone but—
“Your partner is Draco Malfoy,” Professor Lupin informed you when he got to your name, and you immediately make to protest.
“Her?” a voice came just as you complained “Not him”, and the students parted to reveal Draco himself, glaring daggers at you and Lupin.
“Yes, her,” Lupin replied, unruffled. “Now, pair up, everyone. We’re practicing Stunning today.”
That day, you’d fucking limped out of the classroom. Not to say Draco had gotten it easier—he could barely stand after you Disarmed, Stunned, and hit him with a nasty stinger hex just for the sake of it. (You’d gotten detention, but it was worth it.)
Today’s your second class with Malfoy, and you’ve never wanted more to be able to commit violent actions in your life.
“Please,” you whisper to Hermione as your group enter the DADA classroom. “Just one hex. I won’t even go to Pomfrey. No witnesses. You could just Petrify me, if that’s more to your liking.”
She sighs. “I’m not going to Petrify you.”
“’Mione,” you say, scandalized. “I thought we were friends.”
“Pair up, everyone,” Lupin calls out. Your friends shuffle away and you close your eyes, already getting a headache from the thought of—
“Well, well.” That fucking smarmy voice. “If it isn’t Potter’s little friend.”
“If it isn’t Daddy’s boy,” you snap, opening your eyes and glaring at Malfoy, who already has his wand out. “Bugger off, Malfoy.”
“Afraid I can’t do that.” Draco’s eyes narrow. Clearly, he’s as displeased with the situation as you are. “What are we doing today, then? Can’t wait to knock you down a few notches. Star of the class, my—”
“Patronuses!” Professor Lupin announces from across the room, and your heart soars—Patronuses, you could do that. Harry, months earlier, had taught you how to perfect a corporeal form in exchange for tips on his Astronomy essay. He isn’t here today—maybe you could be the only one in the class to do it.
Lupin continues, “Yes, the Patronus—an essential in the world of Defense magic. We’ll be starting with just the simple basics of it. A strong flick of the wand, and the words ‘Expecto Patronum!’. Say it with me, everyone.”
You chorus the words obediently along with the class, Malfoy’s snort of derision not going unnoticed.
“Good. Good, good, now—the key to the Patronus is to think of a happy memory. It has to be strong. Remember, Dementors feed on misery—it’s the only way to keep them away. Now, go practice. I’ll be walking around to see if there’s any problems.”
“Expecto Patronom,” Malfoy repeats in a mocking voice once the classroom starts filling with the chants of fellow students. “Doesn’t Potter know how to do that one? Heard he can do a deer. Pretty weak animal if you ask me—”
“A stag,” you correct. “And it’s Patronum, not Patronom.”
He glares at you again. “Think you’re so smart, don’t you?”
“Certainly smarter than you are.” You glance at him. “Though that’s not saying much, is it?”
You give Fred Weasley, who’d circled around to hear the conversation, a not-discreet fist-bump.
“Alright then.” Malfoy spits out your last name, trying to provoke you. “Let’s see you do it.”
“You try,” you suggest, hiding your smirk. “Unless you’re too scared.”
Draco grits his teeth. Unwilling to back down from a challenge, he brandishes his wand. “Expecto Patronum!”
A thin, wispy light appears at the end of his wand—weak, but clearly visible. Classmates around you murmur as they notice it, and Professor Lupin beams as he sees Draco’s doing. “Very good, Draco! A fantastic start.”
Draco flicks his wand smugly and the Patronus charm dissipates. He smirks, shooting you an expectant look.
You take out your wand, feeling its familiar grip, and you close your eyes. You recall the memory of a weekend in Hogsmeade with your friends, drinking Butterbeer as you stroll through the snowy village, pointing out the shops and people. Unconsciously, you smile.
“Expecto Patronum!”
Light blazes so bright you can see it under closed eyes, and you open them to find a glowing golden retriever prancing out the end of your wand. It bounds around in the air joyfully, leaving a trail of light where it leaps, and circles the classroom, eventually coming back to you and wagging its tail.
Professor Lupin is grinning, utterly delighted as he takes in your Patronus. Calling your name, he exclaims, “That is phenomenal—you’ve learned fast. Very impressive job!”
You smile back, and your Patronus glows lighter in response. You quickly call it off, the light being a bit too much, and the rest of the class passes by in a haze of awed murmurs and classmates asking your advice on their spellwork. You become so preoccupied, you don’t even notice Draco’s unrelenting stare on your back.
The class ends fast, the bell tolling to signify the start of what would be a study period for you. As students trail out of the classroom, chattering happily, Professor Lupin calls you over.
“Listen, I want you to know that what you did today was truly impressive,” he says, seriously. “I assume Harry laid out the groundwork, yes?”
You nod. He smiles. “You and Harry both are very accomplished students, then. But truly—I doubt many Aurors could’ve managed what you did today.”
“Thank you, Professor.” Your words are sincere.
“My pleasure.” Professor Lupin shoots you an apologetic look. “Now, I’m terribly sorry, but I have off-grounds business to attend to—would you mind setting the classroom to rights? I’m afraid I had to push the desks and chairs back for our class, but I don’t have time to put them back. I’ll write you a note, if you—”
“Oh, no, Professor, don’t worry, it’s a study period. I’d be glad to help.”
“Thank you,” he says, relieved, already heading out the door. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll bring chocolate to compensate!”
“Goodbye, Professor!” you call, and he echoes it, and then he’s gone. You look around the classroom, seeing all the desks in the back, and you crack your knuckles. Time to get to work.
“Well. Quite the teacher’s pet, aren’t we?”
Merlin’s fucking beard.
“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” you mutter, turning around to find him leaning against the classroom doorframe. His blond hair glints silver in the sunlight, and his entire outline—his uniform, his stance, his dark gaze—is just… honestly, unfairly attractive.
So maybe your first impression of Draco Malfoy, years ago, wasn’t that he was a self-entitled git. Maybe, just maybe, you’d thought he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.
And maybe that feeling never went away.
Not that you’d let him know that.
“What are you doing here?”
“Study period.” He starts walking towards you, shutting the door behind him. “Couldn’t help but be curious as to what Lupin wanted with you.”
“What’s it to you?” you snap. Malfoy doesn’t reply.
“Why do you insist on being so difficult?” he asks instead, and you blink.
“Me?” you splutter. “Difficult? Fat lot of sense that makes, with you fucking insulting me at every move I make—”
“As I recall, our first interaction was you hexing me in third-year.” Malfoy sounds amused.
“You pushed Harry into the lake,” you snap at him. “You bloody well deserved it.”
Draco laughs. “Good times.”
“Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing here?”
“You’ve got quite a mouth.”
“My mouth is also capable of jinxing you three ways to Friday, so I suggest you leave me alone, yeah?” Your fingers twitch towards your wand in preparation, and he only looks on with derision.
“I’m just frightened,” Malfoy sneers. You barely notice him slipping off his rings, pocketing them. “Potter taught you that Patronus charm, didn’t he?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothin’. Just wondering what else he taught you.” A vengeful mood seems to have taken Draco. “You seem to hang out with him an awful lot.”
“It’s called having friends,” you snap right back. He looks as though he’s about to retort, but you push on. “Unfamiliar with the concept? Wouldn’t be surprised. Crabbe and Goyle don’t seem like the best conversationalists, are they? Just a couple of goons. Wonder why you don’t have better friends. Friends you can actually talk to who operate with more than one braincell.”
“Shut—”
“Maybe it’s because no one wants to be near you,” you continue, years of pent up frustration spilling out in a vitriolic spiel. “Because you’re a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to be happy, aren’t you? You drive everyone away and then you go after more because you’re lonely and sad and fucking pathetic—”
“Shut up,” Malfoy repeats with a vehemence.
“—and it’s too fucking late to repair the damage you’ve done—”
“Shut up,” Malfoy snarls, and you stare into his narrowed eyes.
“Fucking make me,” you snap back, and he lunges.
You’re pinned against the wall of the classroom, Malfoy’s wand to your throat and a hand fisting your robes to render you immobile. Draco flicks his wand, ever-so-slightly, and you hear the classroom door lock with a wordless spell.
“Malfoy,” you whisper, but he cuts you off.
“Shut the fuck up or I swear you’ll bloody regret it,” he hisses.
“Draco,” you begin, and he curses.
“Fuck it.”
Gripping your robes, he leans in and kisses you.
It’s rough and demanding and you think he’s trying to hurt you, with how much his teeth scrape against your bottom lip and bite down gently, but you’re not pulling away, he’s not pulling away, and you find yourself leaning into the kiss, arching up to meet him—
He breaks away and looks at you, smirking.
“If I’d known that’s what it would take for you to shut your bloody mouth, I’d have done it years ago.”
“Let me go, Malfoy,” you say shakily, but even as he loosens his grip slightly, you show no sign of moving.
“If you’d wanted to leave you’d have Stunned me long ago,” he states, truthfully. Your wand is fully in reach. You know how to do wordless spells. And yet you let him kiss you.
“Shut up,” you grumble, still not moving.
“I think, perhaps,” Draco murmurs, glancing down at your body, “you’re enjoying this.”
“No,” you argue, and his wand digs into your neck—not enough to hurt but enough to register.
“Shh,” Draco hushes, almost condescendingly. “Be quiet, now. That’s a good girl.”
Involuntarily, you shudder at his words. They made your legs weak, and you fight off the urge to audibly whimper—what the hell’s gotten into you?
Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he hasn’t noticed.
Of fucking course he notices.
“Oh?” The shit-eating smirk on his face is enough to make you glare absolute daggers at him. “Don’t give me that. You shivered. You liked it.”
“Shut up,” you say again, with no real strength.
“Don’t you want to be my good girl, sweetheart?” he teases cruelly, and you have to close your eyes to fight off the blush. It doesn’t work, and your face grows hot with embarrassment and arousal.
“Dear me,” Draco says mockingly. “What happened to the spitfire from minutes ago, hm? Still feeling like saying those words to me? Still feeling like being bad?”
Inadvertently, you shake your head.
“Who’s pathetic now?” he mocks, grinning, letting his wand trail a cold path down your neck, over your collarbone, until it rests on the top button of your uniform. “May I?”
The question sounds mocking, but he meets your gaze and you know he’s honestly asking for permission. And you give it to him, nodding, even as your blush deepens. Draco undoes your buttons, one by one, with tiny flicks of his wand, until your shirt is fully unbuttoned and you’re exposed to his gaze.
Draco shoves his wand into his belt and pushes your bra out of the way with an almost laughable urgency, getting a full, appreciative look at your breasts. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs. “Shame they belong to such a fucking headache, hm?”
You grumble some sort of an insult, and Draco pinches a nipple, which shuts you up effectively. “That’s what I thought.”
His hands trail down to your skirt, and instead of undoing the button he leans down and scoops the fabric up. “Here, be good and useful and hold this for me.”
The indifferent praise and the degradation combined has you obeying immediately, hoisting your skirt up and baring yourself to him, which only adds to an eddying swirl of shame and arousal pooling in your gut. Draco looks at you, stares, really, and it’s with a predatory grin that he reaches over to caress you through your panties.
“Soaked,” he observes, sounding both amused and satisfied. “You always get off this much to being treated like a right slut, then?”
“Draco,” you whine, bucking your hips up into his almost phantom touch. “Come on.”
“Is that how we ask nicely?” Oh, this bloody git. You’ll never be able to look at him again—he’s going to be so fucking smug around you.
When you don’t answer, he withdraws his touch completely, and you make a sound of protest. “No, no, please.”
“Go on.”
“Please touch me,” you try, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so goddamn wet you’re soaking through your panties.
“Not quite,” Draco muses. He’s palming himself through his trousers, and the sight turns you on impossibly more. “Come on, then—convince me.”
“Draco, please touch me,” you beg. One of your hands drift down to your panties but he slaps it away immediately, shooting you a warning look. “Please!”
“Touch you where?” He wants you to say it.
“Touch my cunt, please, Draco, fuck, I’m so wet it hurts,” you beg, and it’s true—you’re aching with arousal, and if he doesn’t touch you within the next few seconds you think you really just might combust. “Please, please touch me, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, just touch me.”
“If only the school could see you now,” he sneers, but even he seems to break his self-control and he tugs your panties down harshly, all but ripping them off. “Baring yourself to me and begging to be touched like a whore.”
“I’m not—oh,” you gasp, his fingers pressing into your cunt immediately and his thumb working on your clit, sending waves of pleasure so potent you almost double over. His fingers are long and thin, which is why he can press two in without preamble, and the stretch is barely noticeable.
“You’re not what? A whore?” Draco laughs. “Please. Look at yourself.”
“’m not,” you insist, but you clench around his fingers at his words and he raises an eyebrow.
“I think you’re lying.” He presses a third finger in and you whine, little sounds of pleasure escaping your lips as he works you open. “Quieter, now, or I’ll have to gag you.”
You bite your lip, and Draco thumbs your clit as a reward and incentive. “Now, tell me what you are. Be truthful, or I won’t fuck you. I’ll leave, leave you here with your shirt hanging open and your skirt up, the doors wide open. Maybe the next bloke who stumbles in might help you.”
Your eyes widen—he wouldn’t. But his gaze is dead serious. “Say it.”
“I’m a whore,” you breathe, and he thrusts his fingers into you, hitting that right spot. “Draco!”
“Say it louder,” he orders, angling his fingers and curling them.
“I’m a whore,” you moan out, bucking your hips upwards—you’re close, you’re so close. “Draco, I—”
He stops moving, and his other hand pinches your clit harshly. “No.”
You let out a gasp of shock and hurt, reeling from the denial and pleasure. “But—”
“You’re not fucking coming until I say so,” Draco hisses, undoing his belt and pushing his trousers down. “And I’m not saying so until I properly fuck you into a bloody wreck.”
His cock is already hard, and he positions himself right at your entrance. You can feel him, his tip pressed against your wetness, but not pushing in. “Draco—”
“I think,” he muses, and you want to scream, “one day I’ll drag you into a broom closet. Fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to talk for the day. You’ll look pretty, don’t you think?”
“Please—”
“Or I’ll bring you back to my dorm, so I can fuck you until you’re screaming yourself hoarse,” Draco says thoughtfully. “Your dorm works. So long as I can ruin you.”
“Malfoy—”
“Because it’s just so—” and he pushes into you in one swift movement, fucking into you immediately with a fast and rough rhythm, “—fucking nice to see you being a slut for me.”
“Fuck!” You grind your hips along with his rhythm, feeling the tightness of your cunt around his cock, and you clench as he hits your sweet spot with the right angle, almost shaking with the pleasure that it gives you.
Draco groans your name, fucking you brutally as he chases his own release, already pent-up from the teasing and the sight of your wrecked state. “’m gonna come on your tits, would you like that? Get it all fucking messy, maybe get some into your mouth, get you fucking ruined?”
“Please, please, fuck, please let me come,” you plead him, feeling your impending orgasm barrel towards you—you couldn’t last, you can’t fucking last—
“Fucking hold it,” Draco snaps. “Hold it like a good fucking girl, you understand?”
You let out a mournful sound, but you nod—yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, please—
“Salazar, I’m fucking close,” Malfoy breathes into your ear, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good, love, so bloody tight.”
“Please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re pleading for at this point. Draco exhales shakily and curses, pulling out and pushing you to your knees with such a force that you drop down, your skirt being the only padding.
“Wh—?” you try to ask, but Draco is already pumping his cock and then he’s coming all over your face, some of it dripping down to paint your breasts as he’d promised. Draco leans down to gather some release on a finger and pushes it into your mouth, eyes darkening as you suck and swallow around it.
“Good girl,” he praises, and you almost come right there.
“Draco, please,” you beg, still on your knees and still absolutely fucking desperate for release that he’s been denying you for the past half hour. “Please let me—”
“Alright, spread your legs, c’mon,” Draco guides, and you obey and then he’s there, thumb rubbing steady circles around your clit and two fingers pushing inside you once more. You whine and grind into his fingers, his touch, hips following his movement as he pushes you closer—closer—
“Fuck!” you sob as he senses your impending orgasm and stills his hand. “No—no, why?”
You sound like a petulant child and Draco laughs at you, and it’s an unfair move and a mean sound but it somehow turns you on even more. “I’m just messing, sweetheart.”
Fuck you, you badly want to say, but somehow you feel like that won’t get you what you want.
Draco starts moving again, his fingers gaining speed, and the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked cunt sounds delightfully dirty. You’re quickly pushed to the edge again, and amidst your pleasure you eye Draco distrustfully.
“Please,” you whisper, and he smirks at you.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
And he thumbs your clit and you’re coming, gasping with the pleasure and shaking as he eases you through it. His fingers don’t stop moving, even after your orgasm has faded, and you squirm in discomfort as he overstimulates you.
“Stop—please—”
“Promise me you won’t be a bloody pain again,” Draco levels at you, and you want to glare back but his fingers curl inside of you and you yelp with pleasure and pain. “Promise me, or I’ll keep going.”
“I—I won’t be a pain,” you mumble, trying to squeeze your thighs together to get rid of his touch, but he perseveres, flicking your clit mercilessly.
“Say you’ll be good.”
“I’ll be good,” you manage, so close to sobbing from the frustration. “Please, Draco, I’ll be good, be good for you, please stop.”
He relents and you feel him draw his hand back. You close your eyes and you hear him tug his trousers back on, buckling his belt. You feel strangely empty without him—without his fingers, his cock, his touch.
Draco produces a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the sweat, drool, and cum off your face, helping you button your shirt back up as well. “You alright?”
“Never better,” you reply, opening your eyes to see him staring at you in concern, all traces of the cruel tease earlier gone. Outside, the sun is setting, casting orange hues into the classroom, and you suddenly remember. “I—oh, bloody hell, I have to arrange the desks for Lupin—”
“I’ll do it. Stay here.”
Draco stands up and takes out his wand, flicking it twice in quick succession. A wordless spell. As you watch, the desks and chairs slide back to where they used to be, neatly arranging themselves in rows.
You’re impressed as he comes back. “What spell is—hey!”
He’s flicked his wand once more and torn your panties clean off your legs.
“Draco—what in Merlin—”
“A souvenir.” Malfoy smirks, stuffing your soaked panties into the pocket of his trousers. “And payment for the desks.”
“You’re a bloody prick,” you say, leaning your head back against the wall.
“Careful now, love. Remember what you promised.” Draco’s tone is playful, but warning. “I’m a man of my word, so you should choose yours carefully. Next time I won’t be as gentle.”
Caught off-guard, you can only nod obediently, which seems to please him. But you can’t promise you won’t slip back into old habits the very next day. Whatever the case, one thing was clear—there would almost certainly be a next time.
------
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helnjk · 3 years
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A Brief Glimpse - C.W.
Charlie Weasley x fem!reader
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Word count: 2.5k
Summary: there’s nothing like the rumors that students can come up with about their favorite teachers. especially when one of them is adamant on keeping her private life, well, private. 
Warnings: brief mentions of meals, one curse word but that’s it
A/N: a purely self-indulgent, fluffy fic inspired by this ask from kendall ( @lupinsclassroom ) who said that if i taught at hogwarts, i’d be the COMC professor! and i love me some good charlie content. this is also kind of a different style that i’m used to, i hope you guys like it! x
The top three favorite professors at Hogwarts were as follows: Headmistress McGonagall, Professor Longbottom, and Professor L/N. 
While most students would argue that Professor L/N could potentially overtake Professor Longbottom on that list, there was just so much they didn’t know about her. She was practically the perfect professor; she loved what she taught (Care of Magical Creatures), she was considerate and understanding with students who were struggling with the subject, and her office doors were always open to anyone who wanted to chat. 
Still, she kept her personal life very private and of course, the more she refused to answer their prying questions, the more intrigued the students became. All they knew was that she was one of the top students of her year, she was a Ravenclaw, and she fought at the Battle of Hogwarts years prior. 
There were many rumors going around the student body of Hogwarts about who Y/N L/N was. The most popular ones were that she was actually Headmistress McGonagall’s secret daughter, because of how close the two seemed to be. In reality, Y/N was just one of Minnie’s favorite students. The headmistress often joked how she should’ve been in her house instead of Filius’. 
Meanwhile, Neville was always open with the students, answering whatever questions they had for him, as long as they weren’t crossing the line between professional and personal. They often loved to ask him questions about his friendship with the Golden Trio or his stories of the war. 
“They’re getting more creative with the questions they ask me,” he shook his head, smiling slightly one dinner, “They’re trying to see if I’ll slip up and mention anything juicy about you.”
Y/N laughed slightly, eyes glimmering, “What sort of questions have they come up with now?” 
“Today Chapman asked me if I’d ever spent the holidays with other professors around my age,” Neville mused, “Or if Hannah was ever jealous that I was working with a girl so close to my age.”  
“Oh please, Longbottom,” Minerva tutted, and the two younger professors turned their heads in her direction, “At least your questions still have some sort of delicacy. Griffiths has actually asked me, point blank, if Y/N’s spent her summers with me.” 
The collective guffaw of the professors at the head table caused the majority of the student body to shift their attention to them. Of course, the authoritative looks that they sent at the house tables were able to convince them to get back to their own conversations, but now the Great Hall was abuzz with trying to figure out what made the professors laugh so loud. 
“I wonder when they’ll stop trying,” Y/N mused as the crowd of students began to slowly shuffle out of the Hall.
“Don’t count on it, L/N,” Minerva smirked. 
“Professor L/N?” a meek voice sounded from the door to Y/N’s office on Wednesday afternoon. 
The middle of the week was rather free for her, therefore she used it to catch up on grading and, if she had time, a little light reading. This afternoon, though, she was in the middle of writing an important letter. 
Her owl, Athena, perched at the edge of her desk and her scrutinizing eyes darted towards the fourth year Hufflepuff who stood by the door. Eloise Abbott, a shy young thing with a penchant for Care of Magical Creatures and one of Y/N’s best students, sent the intimidating owl an uneasy glance.
“Come on in, Eloise,” Y/N smiled as she slipped the ink and parchment she was using into one of the empty drawers of her table, “Don’t mind Athena, she’s just impatient to get this letter out.” 
The young girl shuffled towards the professor as Y/N asked, “Is there anything you needed?” 
“Erm, I was just wondering if you could check my Defense paper,” she mumbled, pulling out a parchment from her school bag, “It’s on Grindylows and other creatures we could encounter in the Forbidden Forest, and I know it’s not really part of your syllabus, but I just wanted to make sure I didn’t get anything very wrong.” 
Y/N smiled and held her hand out for Eloise to place the essay. It was silent as she read over what was written, that silence only broken when Athena let out soft hoots or ruffled her feathers. 
“Erm, professor,” muttered Eloise after a while, Y/N’s eyes glanced up from the parchment, “I don’t mean to pry, but why does your owl want so badly for you to finish that letter?” 
A soft chuckle came from Y/N’s mouth before she answered, “She just loves the person I’m writing to, and I honestly think she would rather be in his care than mine. Even if it were just for a few nights.” 
“But you’re wonderful with animals!”
“And he is too, I assure you. Maybe even more so than me.” 
Eloise nodded her head slowly, and Y/N could see the gears turning in her head. It perplexed the young student, who could ever be better with animals than her professor? She knew it couldn’t have been Hagrid, as he still lived on the grounds and Athena could visit him any time she wished. 
Maybe her favorite professor was friends with the Scamander family. Rolf Scamander definitely had ties to Hogwarts and seemed about her age. 
Before her thoughts could go any further with hypothesizing, Professor L/N handed her essay back, “It looks great, Eloise. I have no doubt you’ll get high marks on this essay.” 
Eloise could spot a professor’s dismissal anywhere, so she merely nodded as she took the parchment back. As she hurried out the room, she expressed her gratitude over her shoulder, catching Y/N pull out the letter she was writing with a soft smile on her face. 
The end of the school week came with a surprise visitor to the castle. The students could not stop discussing the presence of a dragon tamer on the school grounds. He had arrived later in the morning, trudging up the pathway from Hogsmeade and making his rounds around the school.
Headmistress McGonagall greeted him at the gates with a smile and a hug before she took his arm and the two of them had tea in her office. Of course, as the students weren’t used to seeing an adult that wasn’t the faculty or the staff in the castle, his presence sparked many conversations.  
“I saw him knock on Hagrid’s door!” said Neil Chapman to anyone who would listen to him at lunch, “He had some burn scars all over his arms and really bright red hair. He seemed really cool.” 
It was as if the whole Gryffindor table was gathered around him as he told and retold how Hagrid’s booming voice announced that Hogwarts’ resident dragon tamer was back. Rumors floated around the school for the rest of the day, each student having something to say about the mysterious man. 
“He’s gorgeous though, isn’t he?” sighed Daphne Griffiths, as she and her best friend roamed the hallways on the way to their next class, “All rugged and handsome. I caught sight of him walking towards the quidditch pitch after Transfiguration.” 
All the professors had to stop themselves from full-on grinning at the different things they had heard about Charlie Weasley gallivanting around the grounds, but none of them as amused as Professor L/N. 
“Hurry along then!” 
Y/N stood next to a small paddock at the edge of the forest, next to its open gate. At the center of it, a cluster of fluffy creatures rolled around and play fought with each other. 
“Alright class,” she clapped her hands together, “We’re having a little bit more of a relaxed class to end the week. A crup of one of the Hogsmeade villagers just gave birth about a month ago and her owner’s graciously allowed us to spend an afternoon with the puppies.”
The second year students cooed at the litter of small dog-like creatures with two tails. As soon as she finished her sentence, the group of them rushed to get inside the paddock, each one wanting a turn with the small puppy-like things. Once all the students were inside, she shut the gate and joined them as they congregated around the tiny crups. 
Y/N was grateful that her last class of the week was with younger students. They were much easier to please and sometimes more eager to learn. Of course, almost anyone would be enamoured by the litter of puppies running around.
With her wand pointed at her jugular, she began the small spiel she had prepared for the lesson, “Now, as most of you might know, crups are basically magical dogs…” 
Most students weren’t really paying any attention to her little lecture, but she told herself that at least she tried. She understood the need to coo over cute little puppies, she could let it slide just this once. 
From where she stood towards the other end of the paddock from the gate, she had a panoramic view of the class, just in case anything happened. She doubted anything would, but at least that way she could keep everyone in sight. 
“Of all the magical creatures in the world, you chose to teach about crups?” 
A strong voice rang through the open space and caused many of the students to turn their heads at the sound. Somehow, Charlie Weasley had made it to the gate of the paddock without Y/N noticing. Upon seeing the redheaded dragon tamer so close to them, murmurs spread among the young students.
Y/N rolled her eyes, taking in the sight of him with his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face. 
“Oh wipe that smile off your face, Weasley, you try teaching these kids all week,” she replied, raising her voice slightly so that he could hear what she had said. 
“I guess they are quite adorable,” he caved, leaning his forearms against the paddock and seeming as if he was going to observe them their whole class. 
The students observed their playful and easy banter, in awe that their professor knew the ever mysterious man. 
As her wards were still distracted by him, she said, “Pay him no mind class, he’s harmless. The crup puppies need your undivided attention!” 
As soon as the prying eyes were off of him, Charlie sent Y/N a cheeky wink. She couldn’t stop a smile from growing on her face at the gesture, but she shook her head to indicate that they could talk after her class was over. 
“Professor L/N?” a young girl walked up to her, sending a furtive glance over her shoulder to where her friends were gathered. 
The group of them gestured to her to carry on and Y/N’s eyes lit with amusement, “What’s up?” 
“I-er, we wanted to know how you know the dragon tamer guy? The other professors haven’t said much about him when asked.” 
The young student fidgeted nervously, picking at the hem of her sweater as she glanced up at Y/N. Despite being in the rather early years of her journey at Hogwarts, she knew that Professor L/N enjoyed her privacy. She didn’t want to overstep. 
Y/N sensed this apprehension and gave her a soft smile, “We were in the same year at Hogwarts. He was a Gryffindor and I was a Ravenclaw, but we managed to have a few common classes.” 
“Cool!” 
Before anything else could be said, the girl scurried off to meet her friends with the small tidbit of information she was able to gather from the otherwise close-lipped professor. 
Thankfully, the rest of the hour passed by rather quickly. 
As soon as the bell rang, it was obvious to Y/N that the students were stalling. She had dismissed them fairly quickly and had already begun her process of cleaning up. Meanwhile, the majority of the class was still situated inside the paddock, shuffling around in groups. 
Inwardly, she sighed, knowing that there was nothing she could do about it, it was the end of the school week and they were free to roam (or stay) in any part of the grounds and the castle they wanted. 
Inevitably, Charlie had gotten impatient waiting for them to clear out. Instead, he strode confidently through the gate and towards where Y/N was directing the puppies to stay. 
“Charlie? What are you–”
The remaining students, who had been not-so slyly watching the redhead stride through the paddock, all collectively gasped as he pressed his lips firmly on their professor’s. 
Y/N began to weakly protest, the logical side of her brain screaming at her that this was definitely unprofessional, but the emotional side took over as she was surrounded by the scent and the presence of her boyfriend. Her boyfriend whom she hadn’t seen in months and made a special trip to Hogwarts just to see her in her element. 
Thankfully, Charlie pulled away fairly quickly, his arms still firmly wrapped around her body, a dopey smile on his face. 
Once Y/N gained her bearings, she slapped his chest, “Charles Weasley!” 
“What?” he grinned. 
“You’ve just kissed me in front of my students!” 
Despite the–shall we say scandalous?–first encounter between the couple, the rest of the afternoon was quite lovely. Y/N showed him all of the creatures under her care and in the section of the forest that was relatively safe. They also borrowed some old brooms from the shed and raced each other out on the pitch until their cheeks were painful from laughter and their noses were red from the cold. 
By the time dinner rolled around, of course the whole student body was aware of what transpired between the handsome dragon tamer and their favorite Care of Magical Creatures professor. 
This was the first piece of juicy information that they had gotten on Professor L/N, and while they were highly amused at what had happened, they were also not surprised that she was dating someone who worked with dragons on a daily basis. 
They also couldn’t deny the fact that she practically lit up in his presence. They had never seen her so at peace and so happy as when she was with Charlie. Anyone with eyes could tell that the pair of them were in love. 
Minerva had also graciously allowed Charlie to sit at the Head Table with the rest of the faculty at dinner, which caused quite the stir. 
Practically all sets of eyes were trained towards the couple as they ate their dinner fairly normally. 
“You two seem to be the talk of the whole school,” the headmistress teased. 
Charlie sent his favorite teacher a shit-eating grin, “Must be my dashing looks that’s got them all interested.” 
“Please, Weasley,” Y/N tutted, “They’ve just gotten a huge piece of information about me. This is basically their Christmas.” 
“Maybe they’ll finally stop hounding me with insane questions now!” Neville chirped happily, and the table erupted in laughter. 
General taglist: @expectoevans​ @george-fabian-weasley​ @gxthsanrio​ @slytherinscribbles​ @harpyloon​ @nuttytani​ @mesmerisedangel​ @amourtentiaa​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ 
Charlie taglist: @pinkypurplemagic​
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