#I want to punch them in the face but I also want them all to spit in my mouth ngl :/

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Too Good to be Fake

Pairing: Jaemin x reader Description: If there was one thing Na Jaemin was known for, it was being a fuckboy with no interest in commitment. If there was one thing you knew him for, it was being your best friend…and long-time crush. When his group of guy friends gets tired of the roster Jaemin seems to be running through, they propose a deal - they’d each give him $100 if he could settle down with one girl for at least three months. But that was easy money to Jaemin. After all, he could just fake-date you. Content warnings: swearing, talk about sex, mentions/consumption of alcohol, a panic attack (not the reader), one punch gets thrown, reader has a somewhat bad relationship with her parents, their obliviousness to the other’s feelings makes you want to slam your head against a wall, some angst but it’s mainly through unaddressed fluff. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything. Word count: 31,947 A/n: I didn’t know I could write this much, but after making my smau, I was ITCHING for written work ahahahhahahahaha. Please enjoy, though who am I to tell you what to do…as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated. I love you :) also because I must tag @fullsunstrawberry in everything I do...here you go - I love you the mostest!

The semester was in full swing for just over a month, and Haechan was already tired of the amount of girls Jaemin had brought over to their apartment. The first two years of university cemented Jaemin’s image as resident fuckboy, but no one cared about the fact that they couldn’t keep him for more than a night because he was hot enough to make the one night worth it. Similarly, Jaemin couldn’t care less about being labeled a fuckboy - at the end of the day, all it meant was that he was able to get his dick wet with no added pressure from the expectation to ever commit; the concept seemed like heaven to him.

However, the start of junior year had his best friends thinking it was time for a change. As Jaemin sat down in one of their usual cafés for lunch, all eyes were on him. “Alright, Jaemin, we figure you’ve had your fun for the past two years now,” Chenle said with a gleam in his eyes. 

“Too much fun…” Haechan adds under his breath.

Jaemin looked around at the group with furrowed brows. “Whatever is going on, can we stop it and just have our coffee and sandwiches like normal? Why am I being targeted for the amount of fun I’m having? You’ve all had your fair share of fun, too.” 

Jeno let out a small laugh at Jaemin’s defense. “Yeah, but we aren’t nicknamed the campus fuckboy. Plus, we’ve all been in actual relationships during our time in college.” 

Jaemin’s face drops, no longer interested at all in the conversation they were clearly wanting to have. “I could be in a relationship if I wanted to be, I just don’t want to,” he’s quick to mutter in reply. 

“Why not?” Renjun asks, raising his eyebrows in wait.

Jaemin lets out a scoff. “All that love and commitment is stupid. You guys put so much effort into your previous relationships and yet, we’re all currently sitting at this table single. There’s no one who makes me want to even try being in a relationship. Why would I want to risk wasting all that effort on someone?”

His six best friends eyed each other around the table, either not buying it or not caring. “Look man,” Mark starts, getting Jaemin to turn his attention over to him. “Regardless of how you feel about love, Haechan is tired of listening to you and whatever girl you bring home that night…and he’s especially tired of it always being a different girl to walk in on him while he’s singing in the kitchen making breakfast. So, to maybe help him out, and also to test your ability because honestly, I don’t know if any of us think you’re capable…in the nicest way possible, of course. We wanna propose a bet- or a deal is probably the better word for it.” Jaemin shoots his gaze over to the rest of them, but no one bore a look of amusement, they were all curiously locked in. “If you can get a girlfriend and settle down for at least three months, we’ll give you $600.”

Well originally, Jaemin had no interest in any part of this, but if everything worked out the way his brain was planning it, that $600 could potentially be easy cash…not to mention a lot of it.

“I’m in,” he pipes up immediately, truthfully stunning his best friends at the table. Nevertheless, they all shake on it, and then Jaemin only has one thing to do…after finishing his coffee and sandwich, of course.

One day later, you get a text from Jaemin. Free to catch up today? Your cheeks blush warmly at the message. It wasn’t anything special, but after being glued to each other’s sides during high school, college saw you and Jaemin having considerably less time for each other; so it was always nice to see you were still a thought in his mind because truly, you missed your best friend like no other. 

Free to catch up everyday :)) You respond, and Jaemin’s reply comes instantaneously.

Perfect ;) meet you at the café in two hours

You check the clock before mapping out how you would spend all your time in between now and then, quickly deciding most of it should be directed towards making yourself look presentable, seeing as you’ve done nothing but rot in bed all morning.

Fast forward two hours and you were already sitting at one of the café tables when the bell rang as Jaemin walked through the door. He scans the inside before his eyes find you and he lights up. “Hi, best friend!” He says overenthusiastically as he pulls out the chair across from you. You furrow your brows at his tone, not to mention his usage of ‘best friend,’ when you think you remember Jaemin calling you that only once before when you were both still in high school, and had since never labeled you like that again - not that it was an incorrect label, but one that he typically didn’t make a huge deal about unless…

“Oh, god,” you start sarcastically. “What mess did you get yourself into now?”

“Hey!” Jaemin shoots back in mock hurt, moving a hand over his heart as if you’ve just shot him. You let out a light laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Sorry, Jaem, please continue.”

He immediately ducks his head to face his lap, his tone bearing a fraction of the force it previously had. “Okay so, I got myself into a mess.” You can’t help the genuine laugh that escapes you as you shake your head. Jaemin whips his head up to face you in response, but as you manage to stop your laughter, all you can do is meet his gaze with a softness in your eyes that perfectly balanced the playful smirk on your lips.

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know,” you respond, and Jaemin rolls his lips inward to try and stop the smile as he directs his gaze somewhere off to the side. 

“Yeah, hoping you’re still thinking that after I explain,” he replies hesitantly, and your face falls in an instant.

“You got me into a mess?!” You ask in disbelief, and Jaemin lets out a light sigh.

“Not yet, but that’s kind of the goal,” he answers, scrunching up his facial features as he waits for your reprimanding. Though it never comes, and instead, you speak plainly through a sigh.

“An explanation needs to come out of your mouth in three, two-”

Jaemin curls himself into a ball as best he can while sitting in the café chair, wanting some kind of physical defense before explaining himself in a rush. “I need us to fake date for three months so can you please please please be my fake girlfriend?” When he doesn’t get coffee thrown at him, he takes a moment to unfurl himself and look over at you again, his gaze met with your indifferent expression. 

“Why?” You ask neutrally, and it seems to finally hit Jaemin that you were still the same sane, comforting presence you always had been, even if the two of you hadn’t properly hung out in over a year. He settles more decidedly into his chair, though he still frames his words through a lens of embarrassment, figuring that might be the best way to get you to agree - if you knew he knew he was stupid.

“$600 and to prove something to my friends,” he replies, his words light but his demeanor dead serious.

“And why me?” You toss back, causing Jaemin to roll his eyes as he throws his gaze off to the side again with a scoff. 

“Cause every other girl I know has a crush on me and it’d make this very weird. I’m not trying to actually be in a relationship. That’s the last thing I want.” His words this time are firm enough to match his demeanor, and it has you taking a sip of your coffee to fight back the awkwardness you would’ve otherwise choked on. 

“...Right,” you say in agreement, because out of all the times you could come clean about your huge crush on your best friend, right after he tells you that he doesn’t want a relationship is probably the worst time to do so. 

“So?” Jaemin inquires hopefully, snapping you out of your thoughts. You flick your gaze up to him before immediately darting it back to your coffee on the table, one of your hands messing with the straw absentmindedly. Then you give in, because you suck at saying ‘no’ to your best friend.

“...Fine, but then we’re making a contract,” you say plainly, swirling the ice around in your americano. Jaemin lets out something like a laugh, shaking his head.

“Y/n, you’re taking this so seriously-” He starts, but you whip your head back up to him in an instant, cutting him off with sincerity. 

“They’ll see right through it if we don’t,” you state, and you watch Jaemin’s adam's apple bob up and down in his throat as he swallows awkwardly. 

He shakes out of it before putting his hands up in defeat. “Okay, whatever. Go ahead,” he replies, disinterested. You roll your eyes, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from your backpack. Then you get to writing, because you were gonna need to set some intense boundaries if you were hoping to make it out of this alive. 

“Alright, I think this should be good for right now,” you say after a few minutes, sliding the piece of paper his way. He takes one glance at it before letting out a laugh and directing his gaze back to you with raised brows.

“‘No kissing?’ I don’t mean to alarm you, but that’s actually the quickest way for them to see right through it,” he quips. You run your fingers through your hair awkwardly as you dodge his gaze, finally nodding your head with a sigh. 

“Okay fine, we can change it. No kissing unless they bring it up or get suspicious. Good?” You ask, finally looking up at him again. He lets an amused smile paint its way across his lips as he stares at you across the table.

“Ha, we’ll keep it for now,” he agrees before turning his attention back to the paper and looking over the next thing you wrote. “‘No weird nicknames?’” He reads, popping his head back up to look at you for clarification. You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed. 

“Yeah, like sugar, pumpkin, honey, buttercup, sweetie, sweetheart, cutie pie, baby, babe, darling-” You’re cut off by a genuine laugh from Jaemin, helping you realize you’ve missed the sound of it a lot, and not at all helping the awkward situation you’ve gotten yourself into. 

“Okay, you’re just naming every pet name imaginable,” he counters as though you were crazy. 

You roll your lips inward, hesitating on how to respond before opting with a near-whisper. “I don’t like them,” you admit quietly, and Jaemin’s demeanor falls from playful to understanding. He opens his mouth to reply but closes it again before any words get out, instead taking another moment to think. 

“They’re gonna expect me to call you something,” he finally says, speaking as though it were an apology. 

You sigh, knowing he wasn’t lying. Idly messing with your hands, you reply quietly. “...are they gonna expect me to call you something, too?” You ask, and Jaemin contemplates with a sorry nod.

“Yeah, probably. Look, you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with, and if that’s just ‘Jaem,’ that’s fine.”

A more lenient answer than you were expecting, you shoot your head up to look back at him again, though your brows slightly furrow as you address the part he didn’t. “What about you?”

Jaemin lets out a soft sigh. “How about I just limit my usage of pet names, and I won’t call you anything food-related,” he suggests lightly, figuring those nicknames having made up your first seven examples meant you hated them the most. You roll your eyes but a smile crosses your face regardless because he was right, after all…and caring enough to actually realize that.

“I can live with that,” you relent, and a big grin comes back onto Jaemin’s face at the progress. He moves his attention back towards the contract, but immediately is whipping his gaze back to you in hurt. 

“Why can’t I be the one to break it off?” He pouts, and you have half a mind to laugh, but you know he’s serious. 

“If you date me for exactly three months and then break up with me, no matter how believable we make it, they’re either going to know it was set up or they’re going to assume you learned nothing and probably not give you the money,” you explain, and Jaemin’s pout turns into an impressed nod.

“You have a point…” He breathes out, causing you to smirk.

“I know.” 

He bites on his bottom lip, deep in thought before turning back to you again. “We probably shouldn’t date for exactly three months then, either,” he adds, and you flash your eyebrows in recognition.

“That’s also true,” you say before putting together a calendar in your head. “Well, if today’s September 27th, three months is December 27th, so…we could have New Year’s Eve be our last night together?” You suggest awkwardly. Though, when you look back up towards Jaemin, he’s putting your timeline together with a nod.

“Works for me,” he cedes, scribbling your end date somewhere off to the side before continuing to scan down the list. His next question comes with the very last bullet point on the contract. “‘Come home with me for Christmas dinner?’” He reads before looking up at you in confusion. You shake your head with a laugh.

“Well, you didn’t think I’d do this for nothing in return, did you?”

Jaemin flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement. “Okay…so why Christmas dinner?” He asks, and you drop your gaze back to your coffee. 

“My family keeps riding my ass about not having a boyfriend. If you come back with me and pretend to be my boyfriend there, too, then even when we end things, they’ll at least be off my case for a while,” you admit, embarrassment tainting your voice before you rush to make the request sound more appealing. “And it’s not actual Christmas dinner! It’s that first weekend after finals week. You remember the big dinner we always had with other family friends and all that,” you drag off with an awkward laugh.

“Okay,” Jaemin agrees immediately, and you look back up at him in shock.

“Really? You’re agreeing to that?” You question, but he just shrugs his shoulders. 

“Y/n, you’re getting me $600, the least I can do is one dinner with your family. Besides, they’re practically my second set of parents. I’m pretty sure I had at least a hundred dinners with them during high school,” he jokes, and the tension in your shoulders falls. You guys were really doing this…all of this. The two of you left the café and parted ways soon after agreeing to the terms of the contract, Jaemin feeling $600 richer already with how easy this was going to be.

Jaemin picked you up from class on the first day you would be meeting his friends, five days after the two of you signed your contract to fake-date. He greets you with an easy smile outside of your classroom door. “Hey, you ready?” He asks, and you send a nervous smile back up at him. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” you reply with a laugh. He flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement, feeling much the same way seeing as this was probably the least conventional thing he’s ever done. 

He leads you outside and towards the guys’ regular lunch spot at one of the tables set up in the campus commons. Jaemin had told his friends beforehand that he had gone and gotten himself a girlfriend and thus, to start the three month timer, and they were the ones who begged him to bring you to one of the lunches so they could meet you, and now here you were - walking casually towards the lunch table with Jaemin…too casually, Chenle noticed, because you weren’t even holding hands. He keeps quiet, but lets an easy smirk come across his face as you and Jaemin sit down next to each other. 

“Alright, guys,” Jaemin starts as the rest of the friend group pins their full attention on you. “This is y/n. My girlfriend,” he says with a smile. The label sends ice through your veins. You could not believe Na Jaemin was introducing you as his girlfriend…it didn’t matter that the label was fake, the words sounded real coming out of his mouth. You turn your head to look at him, as if to get some kind of confirmation that it really was Jaemin next to you, calling you his girlfriend. By the time your gaze reaches him, he’s already looking over at you with a cheesy grin, nudging your side playfully with his arm and getting you to relax a little. 

The guys go around introducing themselves, but as they make their full way around the table, Jeno immediately speaks up.

“So, how did the two of you get together?” He asks curiously. A valid question, which is why the guys all lean forward in interest, because of course they would be dying to know how their fuckboy best friend got an actual girlfriend rather than a hookup. It was a horrible question though, because it was one you forgot would ever come up, and you had no game plan to go about answering this. Though, it seemed all you had to worry about was keeping your eyes from going wide, because Jaemin did have a game plan for this, and he answered smoothly.

“I just asked her out,” he says with a shrug. “It’s always been so easy with y/n, I take it for granted most of the time. Every time I’m with her, I’m reminded that it takes no effort to breathe, that I’m standing on solid ground. We met up for coffee the other day and she said she missed me and I-” He falters for a moment, and you finally bring your gaze up from your lap to face Jaemin, just to see him shake his head as if he were breaking himself out of a nostalgia trip. “I wanted to hear that again and again,” he finally says seriously, and you can’t stop the smile from reaching your face. “So, though now it just sounds embarrassing saying it out loud, I straight up asked her to be my girlfriend right after that,” he adds through a laugh. “I had been waiting for the butterflies that everyone always talks about, but the fact that I’ve never really felt that with her just made me more sure I wanna be with her - there’s no discomfort or anxiety,” he says, and with your head ducked back in to face your lap, you miss it when he turns to look at you softly. “She’s just always felt like home.” 

Jaemin’s answer seems to have done its job in convincing everyone, and it definitely did its job in reminding you that you were in deep trouble. Though, as the rest of the guys take in Jaemin’s words with an impressed nod, Mark tries to fill in his holes. “Wait, how long have you known each other?” He asks, which was another valid question seeing as Jaemin talked about you with history even though you had never met his friend group before.

“We’ve been friends since high school,” Jaemin says coolly, though this time, you’re the one to nudge him with a laugh.

“Best friends,” you add teasingly, and Jaemin chuckles as he looks over at your figure before nodding his head.

“Yeah, best friends,” he agrees fondly. “But, I’ve liked her for a while now,” he says, turning back towards the group as his face falls and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I just- obviously have the image that I do and I never wanted to get her tied up in it. She deserves more than being labeled as some fuckboy’s latest infatuation,” he says, and as you furrow your brows at him, he just shakes his head, moving on with a light smile. “Though, obviously, I saw her last week and couldn’t help it anymore.”

Sorry smiles cross most of the guys’ faces - they were no help when it came to keeping labels away from Jaemin, and he was sure putting on a convincing show, making it almost seem like it was their fault the two of you hadn’t already gotten together. 

Haechan swings his gaze over to you with raised eyebrows, shifting gears to try and not to let the dampened mood actually settle in. “And you? How long have you liked him?” He asks, and you have to stop the laugh from leaving your system. Instead, you just shake your head fondly.

“Forever,” you answer truthfully, turning to face Jaemin before immediately pulling your gaze back down to your lap in embarrassment. “Any girl will tell you, it’s impossible not to fall for Na Jaemin.” At this, all the guys roll their eyes, but Jaemin just turns to study you softly, biting on his bottom lip in contemplation as he tries to sort out whether any part of your statement was true or if you were just really good at acting.

However, with the rumbling of Jisung’s stomach, he quickly discards the topic of you and Jaemin, deciding that after all the intro questions were out of the way, food was much more interesting. The guys laugh along as Jisung rips through his paper bag lunch, but it does its job in getting them to focus on their own food in front of them, too. 

Casual conversation occurred over lunch, and you were pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t awkward at all. Not that you were expecting the guys to be awkward with each other, but you typically weren’t great at meeting new people; and now you were meeting six of them at once, somehow fitting right in, your occasional remarks causing the whole table to laugh - something you’d have to pat yourself on the back for later. The only disturbance comes from Chenle, who had begun leaning way back from the table, carefully balancing his weight on the bench as he seems to examine the ground by your feet. 

The entire friend group eventually catches on to his antics, turning their attention towards him with raised eyebrows. “What are you doing?” Renjun finally asks, the question coming out as though he thought Chenle were crazy…which probably wasn’t too far from his actual stance on the matter.

Chenle shakes his head, pulling himself back into a normal sitting position as he locks his gaze onto you and Jaemin. “Don’t most couples have a hand placed on the other’s thigh or something while sitting? Why are you guys like- a foot away from each other?” He asks plainly. Your face drops and your eyes widen.

“We are not a foot away from each other,” you remark firmly, but then Jisung peaks beneath the table as well, pulling back up with a shrug.

“Uh, you kinda are,” he says, causing Jaemin to roll his eyes.

“Didn’t think you guys were big pda enthusiasts,” he says, trying to laugh it off, but Chenle is relentless.

“Have you kissed yet?” He asks immediately, and you almost choke.

“What?!” You return in shock, but Chenle looks between the two of you with uninterested brows.

“You’ve liked each other for forever and you’re this awkward?” He shoots back in a taunt. You sigh, collecting yourself because you knew what you were about to have to do. 

“You’re right, Jaem,” you say, pulling his attention your way as you place a hand on his cheek and smile in disbelief. “Your friends are annoying,” you continue, and then you lean in and kiss your best friend and long time crush. 

Admittedly, you’ve imagined this moment more times than you could count, but none of those fantasies could have prepared you for what it actually felt like to kiss Na Jaemin. His lips were perfect, he was perfect, and you knew that already but now you felt it. You remind yourself of where you’re at, why you’re kissing him in the first place, and bring yourself to pull back after the one soft kiss, trying your best to make it seem as though that alone didn’t cause you to lose your breath.

As the two of you pull away from each other, Jaemin’s gaze locks on you, running over every inch of your face with an unreadable look in his eyes to contrast the softest of smiles on his lips. “Yeah, angel, they are,” he says through an exhale, and as your face goes completely pink, his smile eases into a familiar smirk. “But if you kiss me every time they piss you off, I might have to have them stick around.” 

You roll your eyes, nudging him in the side again as you focus on the playful banter and not on the fact that Jaemin just rewired your brain chemistry with one ‘angel.’ “Whatever, we both know I kiss you all the time anyways,” you tease, but as you try to shift away again, Jaemin catches your hand in his and looks at you as if you were crazy.

“No, I kiss you all the time,” he rushes to correct, and though you whip your head back to face him in offense, your eyes instantly soften upon contact, a tight smile playing at both of your features instead.

Your only thought was to kiss him again, and you’re thankful when Chenle cuts off any chance of that happening. “What is going on?” He asks in disgust, causing Renjun to laugh and shake his head.

“Hey, you were the one jumping their asses for their lack of public romance. This is your fault.” 

With the conclusion of lunch, Jaemin kept you company on the walk back to your dorm. As soon as you’re out of sight from the rest of the guys, you let out a heavy sigh and accompanying drop of your shoulders. “Well, there goes rule number one…” You say in defeat. If you couldn’t even follow the first rule during your first outing as a ‘couple,’ the rest of these three months were not going to bode well for you. 

Instead of matching your demeanor, Jaemin takes offense. “What, no! We changed rule number one to no kissing unless they brought it up or were suspicious, and they both, brought it up and were suspicious,” he claims firmly, but the playful tone underlying his words makes it so that all you can do is let out a small, wry laugh.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you say with a shake of your head, though the smile has made its reappearance on your face. Next to you, Jaemin stops walking, pausing for a moment as he stares at the pavement beneath your feet. As soon as you notice his absence at your side, you turn back around to face him and his small grimace.

“Thank you, by the way,” he says gently, and any remaining tension you were carrying falls away; because any time Jaemin fell softer, you were reminded of how you’d do anything for your best friend. “I don’t know if I really thanked you for letting me talk you into this. I know it’s stupid, but it’s nice to have them attacking me for whether or not I’ve kissed you rather than attacking me for my body count,” he finishes, and it feels as though all your joints had immediately locked up again. 

Jaemin’s title as the campus fuckboy was not lost on you, but talking about anything close to relationships was never a strong suit for you guys; and with him quickly finding his place within a new friend group here at college, it meant you were even less in the know of his whereabouts on any given day. The last thing you were expecting was for Jaemin to keep you updated on who he just fucked, but the entire realm of conversation was always so unreachable for you two. You knew nothing of what the campus fuckboy was truly getting up to; there was sometimes talk in your class when a girl would come in beaming as she told her friends she managed to spend a night with Jaemin, but instances like that were all you got informed by, and you never dared pry deeper into those overheard conversations. 

Sometimes your jealousy would damn near kill you - all these girls boasting about the fact that they had spent a night with Jaemin…you wanted to turn around half the time and tell them to forget about one night because you’ve spent countless days with him; that your entire high school career was covered in his handprints and bright smile which you were sure was laced with drugs - a smile you knew he wasn’t throwing around in the bedroom. 

You never did snap, though, because it was easier to keep your ‘best friend’ label with Jaemin under the radar at college, unless you wished for tens upon hundreds of girls to line up in front of you and ask your advice on how to win his heart. Jokes on them, you were still figuring that out, yourself.

“What is your body count?” You ask with a hesitant swallow, your curiosity getting the better of you now that he’s finally brought it up. 

Jaemin shoots his head up to face you but instantly dodges your eye contact again. For the first time since you’ve met him, he looks genuinely embarrassed. “Another time, y/n,” he says in soft dismissal.

You swallow harshly, in disbelief at what you were about to tell him, but as much as it would sting, it would keep your own feelings at a very needed bay. “If you still want to have sex, you can. I don’t mean to force you into celibacy. Just make sure it’s at the girl’s house so Haechan doesn’t find out,” you say lowly, and Jaemin immediately makes wide eye contact with you.

“Really?” He asks in something like shock. You act as though it’s no big thing, and you’re sure it probably shouldn’t be, anyways.

“Yeah,” you respond with a shrug.

Jaemin takes in your words with a contemplative head nod, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth before his eyes light up in alert, finding another caveat to address. “What do we do if the girl starts talking about the fact that she hooked up with me?” He asks seriously, but you’ve finally found humor in the situation, shaking your head as though there were hardly a need for the question. 

“Jaem, just about every girl wants to sleep with you, or at least make it seem like she did…a random girl claiming to have hooked up with you one day is just going to sound like she’s desperate for attention. No one’s gonna take it seriously,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes. Absolutely nothing you said was wrong, and with a deep breath, Jaemin seems to accept that fact.

As he exhales, he resumes his continuation on the walk back to your dorm, a light nod of his head accompanying his next words. “Okay. Thank you-” His casual start is broken as he turns his head back over to you at his side in question. “Are you gonna be okay? Are you gonna like- hook up- uh…with other guys?” He asks curiously. All you can do is laugh at him.

“Casual hookups aren’t my thing and no way am I getting an actual boyfriend while we’re doing this, but of course I’ll be okay. I’m pretty sure your sex drive is at least ten times greater than mine. I can handle three months,” you reply lightly, and seemingly all of Jaemin’s worries about this new implementation fade away - it seemed perfectly doable without getting caught. 

As you get to your dorm entrance, you and Jaemin turn to fully face each other. “Thanks again for today. I think we got them somewhat convinced,” he says through a small laugh, and you flash your eyebrows in acknowledgement. 

“No reason to thank me for that - you did most of the talking,” you rebuttal playfully. 

Jaemin’s laugh turns into a knowing smirk. “You were the one who kissed me,” he teases, and you shake your head, but a wide grin spreads across your lips, regardless.

“It's not my fault that they both, brought it up and were suspicious,” you remind him, putting your hands up in defense. Jaemin takes a moment to laugh again before settling into a more fond look that was reminiscent of your high school days.

“We’re gonna have to start hanging out more again since they think we’re dating, but even before all that, I think it’d make me happy if we started hanging out more again just cause I’ve missed you…and I know it’s my fault we haven’t talked as often! I got a friend group of guys and an- agenda…with girls, and as such, my entire college career up to now has unfolded in that way. But I miss you because you’ve always been my friend, not because of some agenda or fake-dating scheme.”

“Mmmmmm, best friend,” you correct with a sure smirk, making Jaemin drop his head with a laugh of defeat.

“Yeah, best friend,” he cedes, and your smirk turns into a soft smile. 

“I never do anything, so just text me when you wanna hang. I’ll be there.” 

He looks back up at you with a small grin and a nod. “Same goes for you,” he replies. Then, all that was left was saying ‘goodbye’ in a much more awkward way than usual, before you went back up to your room to decompress from whatever the hell just happened. 

It was a week after that first lunch when you were alone and bored in your dorm. None of the guys mentioned anything about having plans for the weekend while at lunch, which you had begun to join in on every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. So, although you just saw him, you figured Jaemin wouldn’t have anything better to do than hang out with you some more today. You shoot your gaze over to the clock, agreeing there was more than enough time left in the day to make a hang out worth it, and then grabbing your phone to text Jaemin.

Hey, I’m bored. Wanna do something? You send, and Jaemin’s reply is instantaneous.

With a girl rn

For a text that’s letting you know he’s following your directions, it hurts more than you thought it would to read. You know it’s for the best that this be your reality. Jaemin had been your best friend for so long now, the last thing you wanted was to ruin that with your feelings; and while fake-dating wasn’t helping, this reality-check definitely did. He’s not just your best friend anymore, he’s the campus’ heartthrob…the campus’ fuckboy. It was the entire reason behind the bet his friends made in the first place - a circumstance like this was only expected. So, you’d have to forget about the hollow feeling in your stomach right now and instead support your best friend in a best friend way, cause no matter how many times in the next three months he’s destined to call you ‘angel’ or look over at you softly every time you talk in the group, ‘best friends’ is all you are to each other. Oh, look at you go! I figure I’m your alibi, so I guess I’ll stay in for the rest of the night so there’s no possibility of one of your friends seeing me

His reply this time took about thirty minutes to get to you, and even his last text didn’t prepare you for the brick wall that faced you with this one. Thanks 

Jaemin isn’t selfish, Jaemin is busy. It’s the mantra you kept repeating to yourself, because you know he’s not selfish; and while you were expecting a reply more aligned with an apology for forcing your Friday night to be spent indoors and alone, taking the time to text that out probably was not something Jaemin could manage while another girl was surely sucking him off. 

The next Thursday, it’s Jaemin’s idea to hang out after classes. The two of you decided to chill at your place so that you didn’t have to constantly pretend around Haechan, should he be in their apartment. As you swing the door open to Jaemin’s presence, he looks at you with a big grin on his face. “Hey, angel,” he says, patting the top of your head as he walks into your dorm. You track his figure deeper into the living area, looking at him quizzically because the whole purpose of him being here was that he didn’t have to call you ‘angel.’ 

You just shake your head with a smile as he plops down on your couch. “Hey, Jaem.” 

He looks up at you with innocent eyes. “What did you want to do tonight?” He asks, and you shrug your shoulders with a laugh.

“You’re the one who wanted to come over; my plan was to do homework.” Your answer has Jaemin’s face falling, and you watch as he gets up from the couch and immediately walks out the door, leaving you completely dumbfounded. You didn’t think homework was that repulsive to him. Though, moments later, there’s another knock on your door, and you answer it to be met with Jaemin again, this time his own backpack slung across his shoulders. “Wha-?” You question with a laugh of disbelief.

Jaemin sends a smirk your way before once again walking past you and towards the couch, immediately unzipping his backpack and placing its contents on the coffee table. “Homework,” he says casually, looking up at you with raised brows and a smirk. “Best friend, fake girlfriend, study buddy…you get all the fun labels,” he teases, causing you to shake your head before relenting and joining him at the coffee table. 

It was an incredibly normal night. After the two of you finished up the last of your assignments - though getting distracted every five or so minutes with stupid jokes, complaints of coursework, or a sudden remembering of a story that needed telling did not help push things along, the two of you watched a movie. You ended up making hot cocoa, because the privilege of thermostats meant that it wasn’t a crazy option, regardless of the outside temperature, and then sat on the recliner, Jaemin taking up considerably more space on the couch in response. 

The two of you had always been good movie watchers with each other. You both liked to enjoy movies in the same way - the lights off, no talking, no distractions from phones…even if it was a movie you had seen a hundred times. The two of you took movie nights seriously, mainly because with each other, you could. At least, you had yet to find anyone else who would sit and watch Coraline with you and not take a break to say something about how they find it creepy or flatout don’t like the movie when it’s not even halfway over. Though, Jaemin always happily watched, saving his only comments (typically about how “they just don’t make movies like that anymore”) for the credits. 

Just like that, it was like a night from high school, and it ended much the same way - a side hug with Jaemin and his promises of getting home safe, though it was you rather than your mother that he was making that promise to now. 

Walking back into his apartment, Jaemin immediately catches the attention of Haechan, currently making late night ramen in the kitchen. “Did you just get back from y/n’s?” He asks, pulling his attention away from the stove to turn his head towards Jaemin.

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers casually as he makes his trek through the front space and towards his room, only getting distracted when Haechan speaks up again with a playful lilt and a matching smirk on his face.

“Good night?” He asks, causing Jaemin to furrow his brows before realizing what Haechan was actually getting at. 

“What-? Oh, shut up,” he dismisses. Turning back around to face Haechan revealed him to be completely distracted from his ramen - his back now leaning against the countertop as his casual crossed arms added to the tease in his raised eyebrow. Jaemin rolls his eyes at the antics, especially considering Haechan was the main reason this whole deal was made in the first place - because he was tired of Jaemin having sex. “We didn’t have sex. We did normal couple things,” he states confidently before turning around again to actually make his way inside his room and behind his closed bedroom door. 

This meant Jaemin missed the way Haechan’s playful brows furrowed in confusion, his face falling flatter as he spoke through a soft exhale. “What?” Any more time he could have had to actually question it was overridden with the need to tend to his now boiling over ramen; so Jaemin got off easy the rest of the night. 

Haechan was not as forgiving the next time he saw the guys at Monday lunch, though. With you still nowhere to be seen and Jaemin in his line of sight ordering food, he addresses everything in a more serious tone than any of the guys were expecting. 

“Does anyone else find it odd that they haven’t had sex yet?”

Eyes go wide at the rest of the table. “They haven’t?!” Jeno practically shouts before immediately getting embarrassed and making himself as small as possible. Haechan just shakes his head.

“They haven’t even spent the night at each other’s places yet. He always comes back home after hanging out with her and it’s always just him.”

“Maybe they’re taking it slow,” Mark replies with a shrug, but all eyes lock on him with ample skepticism. 

“Does ‘slow’ seem like a Jaemin thing?” Haechan rebuttals. “I mean, come on. We’re talking about the guy who’s notorious for getting his dick wet at any available opportunity.”

“So, we think they don't really like each other? They’re faking it?” Renjun asks with pursed contemplative lips. 

Haechan’s the one to shrug this time in mystery. “$600 is a hefty amount. He’d do anything he can for that, including but not limited to getting a fake girlfriend and lying to us,” he states more firmly, but that’s as Jaemin joins the table; his brows furrowed and mouth hanging slightly open as he looked around at the guys in something like disgust.

“What in the world did I just walk in on? Y/n is not my fake girlfriend. The deal money is nice but I’m at least honorable about these things,” he argues, and immediately all the guys whip their gazes towards him, varying expressions on their faces as Jisung speaks up in genuine question.

“Why haven’t you slept with her yet?” The seriousness of the question and the sheer interest in the rest of the guys’ faces gets Jaemin to roll his eyes.

“You guys are atrocious, you know that?” He says in place of an answer. 

Chenle raises his brows. “The question remains,” he taunts with a smirk.

Jaemin looks him dead in the eyes as he responds. “She means more to me than that.”

“Means more to you than that?” Jeno reflects back with a laugh. “Jaemin, are you forgetting your love language?” This is the first thing you can pick up as you finally get to the table after questions from your classmates held you for more minutes than should be allowed. Regardless, you immediately jump right into conversation.

“Love language?” You echo with a smile. “There’s something I’m knowledgeable about. How’s my words of affirmation boy doing?” You continue, all your attention directed towards Jaemin as you shed your backpack from your body.

He looks up at you still standing by his side, eyes soft and speaking through a small smile. “Better now that you’re here,” he answers, and you don’t stop the bashful smile from coming across your face as you finally get situated sitting down next to him. The gentle moment is broken, though, with Jeno asking a question in total shock.

“Words of affirmation??” He begs for clarification, and the rest of the guys lean in at the table some more in apparent interest. You look at them all as though there was some joke you weren’t getting. 

“Yes? What did you think it was?” You question back, and they respond in almost perfect unison.

“Physical touch.”

You can’t stop the small laugh from leaving your system as you look back at all of them seriously. “Jaemin’s good at showing love through physical touch, no doubt, but words of affirmation is by far his favorite way to receive love, it’s not even a question. And sure, part of that is how he smiles like an idiot whenever I tell him he’s the most handsome guy on the planet - which is stupid because ‘handsome’ honestly doesn’t even begin to describe it…” You trail off awkwardly before shooting your head back up to face everyone. 

“But have you ever seen him receive a compliment that has nothing to do with his body or looks? The way his eyes light up like something just clicked for him? I mean, he’s so many more things before he’s physically attractive, and all he was waiting for was someone to recognize that. Every time we meet up after class and I say something like ‘I’ve been longing to be in your presence all day,’ or ��thanks for bringing me more happiness than I’ve ever known,’ he’s practically on the verge of tears every time. It’s why when I told him I missed him that one day, all he could think to do was ask me to be his girlfriend. He’s been waiting to be missed on a level that had nothing to do with his body. He’s been waiting to be affirmed in a way that isn’t physical.”

That seemed to get everyone else at the table to shut up, swallowing awkwardly as they instead turned their attention to their food. You let out a small sigh of relief as you dig into your own sandwich, but Jaemin doesn’t think he can even take one bite anymore; a weird feeling in his stomach and his mind going a million miles an hour. When he does pick up his sandwich, it’s not because he’s finally convinced he can keep it down, but because not eating now would be incredibly suspicious to everyone…including you. 

Jaemin walked you back to your dorm after lunch, something that became typical since it wasn’t always possible to pick you up from class for lunch. You were walking in comfortable silence; in fact, an element of awkwardness was only introduced once Jaemin spoke up with a strange sort of cough and hesitant words. “I didn’t know I was a words of affirmation guy,” he finally says after a couple of minutes. 

With the two of you out of sightline and earshot of the others, you let your actions and reactions express more naturally. So, you paused completely, making him eventually stop and look over his shoulder at you in question. “Oh…really?!” You say in light shock before shaking your head and resuming your pace so you could catch back up to him and continue casually. “I mean, maybe you’re not then, but just from what I know-”

You’re cut off with a small laugh from Jaemin as he shakes his head softly, matching his contemplative tone. “No, I think you’re right. Everything you said I- I think you’re right.” He says it as though he were almost embarrassed by the fact, and you decide that’s the last thing you’re gonna allow him to feel in this situation.

“Oh, well, would you like me to affirm you more often then?” You ask seriously. “We aren’t exactly meeting up after class everyday and I’m not exactly telling you I’ve been waiting for that very moment, but I can.”

Jaemin is quick to dismiss the idea. “No, it’s okay. No use doing that when this whole thing is fake. I mean, rule number three or something is that everything is immediately dropped when we’re in private,” he tries to play off with a laugh, and as you finally reach the entrance to your dorm, you turn around to face him solemnly. 

“Jaem, that’s not me putting on an act. You do know I love spending time with you, right? And-” You shake your head, frustrated with yourself that this is something you obviously didn’t do a good job of communicating earlier. “Take us out of this whole situation thing,” you command, finding your footing in what you’re wanting to say. “Just- as friends. I love spending time with you. I want you in my life forever, yeah?” You finish softly, and when you look back up at Jaemin, he’s quick to break eye contact. 

“Yeah.”

The next few weeks saw to it that you and Jaemin were hanging out more than ever. What you saw as insane luck meant that every time you texted asking if he could hang out, he was never ‘with a girl’ at the time; and Jaemin was texting you and being the one to make plans at a far greater rate than you were, anyways. Instantly, your relationship reflected that during your time in high school - the only difference was that sometimes in the midst of trying to pretend you didn’t have the hugest crush on your best friend, you were also having to pretend you did have the hugest crush on your best friend. 

Hang outs were still mainly at your place so that the two of you never had to worry about Haechan, though sometimes you’d purposely have a night in at Jaemin’s to keep Haechan convinced. This was not one of those times. Instead, you opened your door to Jaemin as you have for the past three Friday’s now, which the two of you decided would be ‘date night’ in everyone else’s eyes while really, you’d just keep a low profile and do whatever you wanted. Due to schedules, you always had an hour for homework before you’d be met with Jaemin’s presence, and he was right on time today. “Hey, Jaem!” You greet with a smile as you swing the door open and step back to allow him inside.

“Hey angel,” he replies casually, because calling you ‘angel’ was now a very typical occurrence, regardless of who was around to hear it. He flashes a smile in your direction, but instead of beelining for the couch like normal, he stops to stand kind of awkwardly in front of you before continuing hesitantly. “Mark is having a Halloween party if that’s something you’re interested in…we could go together. I know parties aren’t really your thing.” He speaks as though it were an apology, and all you can do is chuckle at his antics.

“Don’t worry about that. I am your fake girlfriend, aren’t I?” You tease in reply, and Jaemin raises his eyebrows as though he didn’t know where you were going with this.

“...Yes,” he draws out slowly, and you just shake your head at him fondly.

“So, if you’re going, then I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you answer sincerely, and though you’d never be able to convince yourself of it, you made Jaemin blush - just the tiniest bit. 

He lets out something like a sigh of relief before nodding his head in acknowledgement. “Okay, I’ll tell Mark we’re going, then,” he says happily, and then suddenly it’s right back to routine as he heads for the couch to chill before the two of you could decide what all you actually wanted to do that day. 

The next time you saw Jaemin was two days later when he asked if you wanted to accompany him to the store. It was all light and casual conversation as you strolled through the aisles, most of the time pointing at random items and saying ‘you’ to try and see who could get the other to laugh more. The bit promptly ended when you pointed at a Scrub Daddy to relate Jaemin to, but he instead teased you endlessly for using an item with “daddy” in the name. The only thing to veer his topic of conversation away from that was when you passed the aisle that had been repurposed into Halloween decorations and costumes, making him stop in his tracks.

“Have you decided on a costume for the party yet?” He asks curiously, and you turn back around to face him and redirect your path to peruse the Halloween aisle, touching random bits of costumes before dropping them back to the rack with a shake of your head. 

“Well, I was gonna go as an angel since that’s kind of what you call me now, but if we do it as a couple’s costume, then you’d end up as the devil or a demon or whatever, and I don’t love the idea of that. So…would you wanna go as Team Rocket instead?” You ask in return. Jaemin swallows awkwardly as he takes in everything you just said, but he can’t take too long to explore the slightly comforting feeling brought on by you saying the idea of him as a devil wasn’t your favorite…because that wouldn’t be very ‘I don’t care what anyone else thinks’ of him. Instead, he resorts back to a familiar tease, an eyebrow raised as a playful smirk crossed his lips.

“Who said I wanted to do a couple’s costume?” He shoots back and your face immediately goes red as you scramble for words.

“Oh! You don’t- I was just- it’s not-” You’re cut off with a warm laugh from Jaemin.

“Breathe, angel, I was just messing with you,” he reassures with a shake of his head.

“Maybe you would make a good demon,” you deadpan in return, and Jaemin’s eyes light with fire as his jaw drops.

“Hey!”

“Just messing with you, Jaem,” you banter back, and Jaemin bites on the inside of his cheek to stop a wide grin from making an appearance at your behavior. 

“I’m fine going as Team Rocket, as long as I get to be James,” he says with a mock seriousness, effectively getting you to smile as you roll your eyes.

“Well, I wasn’t going to suggest you be Jessie,” you assure in the same manner, and Jaemin nods his head, seemingly content with the plan before another question comes to mind. 

“Are we dying our hair?” He asks, and this time he’s actually serious. You think about it for a second before giving into the idea with a contemplative nod.

“We can get the spray that lasts up until you wash it,” you suggest, and with a nod from Jaemin, your Halloween costumes were set - all you had to do was make them. 

Fast forward a week and the only thing left to do was iron on the ‘R’ decal on Jaemin’s top, which was exactly what you were doing in his apartment as he took the time to spray blue in his hair. You look up from the heat press as Jaemin walks out of the bathroom. “Huh,” you let out involuntarily, and if you were any less close with Jaemin, you would’ve been embarrassed beyond words. However, he just looks at you with furrowed brows and a curious grin.

“What?” He asks, and you shrug your shoulders as though it were nothing big.

“You look good with blue hair,” you answer, trying your best to be casual about it.

Jaemin’s curious grin had turned into a shiteating one. “Oh, yeah?” He digs, trying to get under your skin; though, you thwart the attempt immediately, instead responding with nonchalance - the exact opposite of what he was reaching for. 

“Well, no more than normal,” you reply, and Jaemin’s brows raise impossibly.

“Now, what does that mean?” He asks playfully, but you just shake your head.

“You’re the fuckboy, Jaemin. You know what I’m getting at.” With that, your attention was back on the iron as it beeped and let you know his shirt was ready. You pull it out from under the heat and turn it around so Jaemin could see the final product, and with a nod of approval, he grabs it from your hands and heads back to the bathroom.

“Looks great, angel,” he finally says, studying his appearance in the mirror before walking back out to the living area. You just drop your head as you feel your face heat up at the compliment. 

“I’ll uh- go get ready,” you say quietly, and then you grab your own costume and hair spray before trading places with him in the bathroom. 

Jaemin doesn’t hide his small smile as he watches you walk back out to the living area in your matching costume with him, and you try your best to pin your focus anywhere other than his soft gaze. “Um- drinking at parties isn’t really my thing so- I can drive us back here afterwards. You can drink however much you want,” you get out awkwardly before moving to sit down next to him on the couch.

Jaemin chuckles lightly in response to your behavior. “Are you sure?” 

You nod your head profusely. “Of course. You enjoy parties a lot. I don’t want you to change an aspect of it just because I’m there, too. So, however much you normally drink…go for it.” 

Jaemin studies your figure with ample doubt covering his features. “I don’t know. Me drinking while knowing I have a ride home typically means I turn into too much to handle,” he jokes, but any form of negative self-talk from him always grounds you, and you’re quick to refute it.

“Not for me,” you say, turning your head to make eye contact with him. “Never for me.” Your soft reassurance has Jaemin simply staring at you, and you quickly turn your head back to face your lap as you overthink every little embarrassing thing you’ve already done tonight. On the other hand, Jaemin didn’t even think twice before leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

Your cheeks puff out with a smile in immediate response to the contact, but as you lift your gaze back up to face Jaemin, your attention is caught by Haechan, who had just walked out of his room in costume - a vampire costume that was already iconic and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

Your soft smile turns into a full-on grin as you address him. “Woah, Hyuck. You look great!” You say with a laugh, and Jaemin whips his head around to face his roommate just to fall into his own bout of laughter.

“Oh, fuck off,” Haechan replies with a playful roll of his eyes as he walks towards the door. “Are you two gonna head out soon?” He asks more seriously, and Jaemin gives a light nod.

“Yeah, we won’t be too far behind you. Y/n just isn’t a huge fan of parties, so we opted for fashionably late rather than fashionably early.” 

Haechan flashes his eyebrows up in acknowledgement before turning back from the front door to face the two of you again. “Alright. Don’t violate the couch too much in the meantime. It’s my favorite couch,” he banters, and this time it’s you and Jaemin to roll your eyes.

“You fuck off,” you say through a grin, and Haechan drops his head with a loud laugh before bringing his gaze back to the two of you with a soft smile.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” he says happily, and with that, he’s out the door.  

It was about thirty minutes later when you and Jaemin entered the party house hand-in-hand. As soon as you got in, you realized your friend group was a lot more popular than you ever thought, because seemingly everyone you went to school with was here. For parties already feeling overwhelming, parties where you could hardly move without bumping into someone were even more so. Though, in the midst of the blaring music, a hundred different conversations, and all the dancing, your attention is turned to your interlocked hand with Jaemin as he gently rubs his thumb across the back of your hand.

You shoot your gaze up at him just to see he’s already staring back down at you softly. Unlike you, he looked completely at home in the party scene, though you figure one can’t truly get labeled a fuckboy without being so. That’s also why you assume he was able to tell you were already uncomfortable from the second you stepped inside. 

Hardly a few feet from the entrance, he leans down to you at his side, speaking slowly in your ear so you could make it out from the rest of the noise. “We’ll stay only as long as you want, okay? If you wanna turn back around right now, we can.”

You shake your head minimally, turning to face him and realizing that action placed your lips dangerously close together. You roll them inwards in hesitation before shifting your gaze to his own. “I’m not going to make you leave super early. You like parties.”

A smirk plays on Jaemin’s lips as he raises an eyebrow at you. “I like you more,” he replies playfully. 

You dart your gaze off to the side, ripping your hand away from his in the process. “I’m fine. Let’s just go find our friends.” You take a step out from the entryway but quickly notice Jaemin isn’t following. You whip your head around to face him just to see his hand outstretched for you again.

“If we’re going to go find our friends, your hand better be in mine,” he quips, causing you to roll your eyes before obliging and lacing your fingers back together. He gives your hand a light squeeze as he flashes you a wide smile and drags you to where he already saw Haechan, Jeno, and Renjun. 

“Hey, you guys look great!” Jeno says with a bright smile as the two of you join their circle. Jaemin finally slides his hand out of yours to instead place it on the small of your back. Despite yourself, a small smile comes onto your face, not at Jeno’s words, but at Jaemin’s touch, and you relax a bit more against his hand.

Jaemin is the one to actually respond as the other two guys turn their attention to the both of you as well. “Thanks! My incredible, beautiful girlfriend made the costumes,” he says, tossing his gaze over to you at his side. You roll your eyes at him, but your smile grows. 

“Making it is not the same as making it look good. You did that all on your own,” you shoot back earnestly. The three guys in front of you throw on a look of disgust, as if they weren’t the ones telling Jaemin he needed a girlfriend. Jaemin just looks over at you with a soft gleam in his eyes, his mouth straining as he tries to conceal a smile. He opts to just kiss you on the cheek instead, then reaching for your far shoulder and pulling you his way. He snakes his arms around you to keep you there in a hug from behind, his thumb gently rubbing up and down your waist. The five of you stood in a circle just talking for at least an hour. Occasionally, one of them would leave to grab drinks for the group, though you were sure to just stick to water the entire night as everyone around you became a comfortable state of tipsy. 

Eventually, Jaemin unwound his arms from your figure, causing you to turn your head and look up at him in question. He lets an easy smile paint his lips. “I’m just running to the bathroom real quick. I’ll come find you again in a few.”

You nod your head, and your eyes follow Jaemin for as long as they could before he became completely indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd. You turn your attention back to Renjun, Jeno, and Haechan. “I’m gonna go find Mark,” you start with an awkward laugh. “I don’t know if he even knows Jaemin and I are here.” The three of them nod at you, Renjun racking his foggy brain for where he thinks he last saw him. You nod, thanking them for their company so far, and then heading off towards the kitchen under the guidance of Renjun’s memory. 

When Jaemin steps out of the bathroom, he almost immediately runs into the body of another guy. Opening his mouth to apologize, the guest beats him to words.

“Jaemin, nice costume,” he says, and Jaemin loses his tension at the compliment.

“Oh, thank you-” He starts, but is quickly cut off again by the stranger.

“You got another one of your hoes to match with tomorrow?” He slurs with a smile, throwing an arm around Jaemin’s shoulder.

Jaemin’s eyes widen as he snakes out under the touch, guiding their hand back down to their side. “Uh, no, y/n’s my girlfriend. It’s just her and we’re just out for tonight,” he replies, turning his gaze away from the man to instead scan the crowd and try to lay eyes back on you.

“Ha! Good one,” the guy laughs out, and Jaemin snaps his gaze back to him in confusion.

“Good one?” He echoes back in question, but with a hard slap on his back that Jaemin thinks was meant to be playful, his conversation partner quickly leaves. Jaemin stands there for a moment puzzled, but he tries to shake out of the uncomfortable feeling as he directs his gaze back to the big crowd, looking for where you may have wandered off to once he sees you’re no longer with the previous group.

He quickly realizes he wouldn’t be able to find you by standing in one place, so he picks up his feet and starts weaving through the crowd again. When he feels a hand on his back, he assumes it’s you, and he whips around towards the figure. His face quickly drops when he realizes it isn’t you, and suddenly he’s extremely conscious of how everyone’s been touching him tonight. 

“Such a shame your costume shows so little skin,” the girl says with a small pout and a fake innocence in her eyes. Jaemin tries to take a step back, just to bump into more people dancing and forcing him back into close proximity. He swallows hard, accepting the fact that he was having to engage in this conversation now.

“My girlfriend picked it out,” he says firmly, and the girl in front of him just tilts her head to the side, now rubbing a hand up and down his arm.

“Well, she’s ruining the fun,” she replies, something like pity in her eyes as she looks at Jaemin. He furrows his brows, his breath getting heavier as the air seems to get thinner. 

“Um, I- I think I’m still fun without showing skin,” Jaemin fumbles out, and the girl just laughs, finally letting her hand drop from his arm as her doe-eyed expression turns mean.

“You’d like to believe that,” she says, shaking her head and walking off.

Jaemin stared after her in a weird mix of hurt and confusion that he hadn’t ever felt before. “What?” He asks in defeat, but there was no one there to give him any clarification. 

He desperately starts looking around for you again. If he could just get back to you, if he could just slip his hand into yours, he was sure the heavy weight that’s found its way onto his chest would disappear. He was shaking, he didn’t know when he had started shaking, but it seemed to take the place of his breathing, and now he was worried about whether or not he would even have time to find you before he suffocated. Almost all the effort he was placing into finding you was now being placed into holding back his tears. Everything was too loud, he couldn’t hear his own thoughts, couldn’t hear his voice if he spoke aloud, suddenly not sure if he was even getting any words out when he opened his mouth, which only worried him more because he was dying and he couldn’t tell anyone. 

Holding your hand, it was the only positive thought he could seem to cling to, the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the floor in a ball - he had to find you, he wanted to hold your hand. He thinks it’s a miracle that his feet are able to start moving again, especially when someone definitely put 50 lb weights in his shoes without him knowing. 

He finally lays eyes on you, now in the kitchen talking with Mark, Chenle, and Jisung. Though you were maybe ten feet away, it might as well have been miles, as another hand gets placed on his chest from a random girl in front of him. “James, let me know if you get bored of Jessie later. I can give you a good time,” she says with a smirk, and Jaemin feels like he’s going to throw up; though he can’t quite tell if that was because of her words or the whirlwind of the past three minutes. In fact, if he knew just how badly he was shaking, he would’ve questioned how she didn’t feel it when she placed her hand on his chest. 

He shakes his head as quickly as he could without getting too dizzy to continue his trek towards you. “No, I quite like Jessie,” he says through hiccups, not sure when the first stray tear made its way down his cheek. He pushes past the girl without giving her time to respond and make him feel worse. All he wanted was you, and when he finally got close enough to place his shaky hand in yours, all he could manage were whispered words that he prayed would reach you, or at least leave his mouth at all. 

“Please don’t leave me.”

Still in conversation with Mark, Chenle, and Jisung, you don’t turn too much attention to Jaemin slightly behind you as you settle your hand into his touch, but that’s when you feel how badly he’s shaking. “Jaem, are you okay?” You ask at your side, though your eyes remained trained on Chenle as he told the least dramatic story in the most dramatic way.

“There’s a lot of people here,” Jaemin whimpers out, the answer confusing enough to pull your focus away from Chenle. 

“I know-” You start, your gaze following from your interlocked hands up his arm and to his face, but that’s when you actually see the state he’s in and your face instantly falls into worry. A steady stream of tears cascaded down his cheeks, his eyes tightly shut to block out the extra stimulation, only opening them to look at you before promptly getting embarrassed and turning away. You immediately squeeze his hand a little tighter in your hold, getting him to train his eyes back on you. You pick up your words as he does so, careful to hide your immense worry in your tone and instead speaking softly for him. “Hey…let’s get you to a quieter room, okay?”

Jaemin nods his head minimally, able to let out a choked response. “Okay.” You take no extra time in telling the others that you were going to have to get filled in on the story later. Instead, you just make sure your grip on Jaemin’s hand is enough to not lose him while navigating through the crowd as you immediately lead him upstairs and into an empty room. 

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” You say, closing the door and turning on a soft lamp light before you whip back around to watch Jaemin pace the entire floor, his fingers running frantically through his hair. 

“I don’t know. Everyone keeps talking to me and touching me and everything is so loud and my head hurts and it’s so hot I’m sweating and dizzy and freaking out-” He spoke all at once, and you knew the last thing he needed was to run out of breath while explaining. You jump to cut him off, still trying your best to make your voice as calming as possible for him.

“Hey…it’s gonna be okay. Can you sit down for me?” The second you said it, Jaemin was on the floor, his heavy breaths visibly not making it to his whole body. Your eyes soften some more as you look at him. It didn’t take a genius to tell you he’s never been in this situation before, and all he knew to do was trust you. You let out a soft sigh as you move closer to him. “I know you said you’re hot and sweaty and overwhelmed with touch, but is it okay if I hug you?”

“Please.” The word comes out weak, riddled with enough tears to make you break. You sit down behind him, placing your legs out along his own outstretched ones as you gently hug him from behind.  

“You can close your eyes, just focus on my voice. You’re gonna be okay,” you state with confidence, rubbing a thumb gently up and down his side. Jaemin is quick to refute, shaking his head with an intensity you wish he wouldn’t right now.

“No, y/n, it feels like I’m dying,” he says, fear covering every aspect of his voice. You let out a soft sigh.

“You’re not dying, you’re panicking.” This, too, he refuses to accept. His response comes out as firm as it could through tears.

“I don’t panic. I’m the cool guy. I’m not panicking, I’m dying.”

Despite yourself, a small laugh escapes you through an exhale, and you hug Jaemin to you extra tight. “Baby, no matter how cool you are, there’s not a person in the world completely immune to panic attacks.”

Jaemin stills for a moment, the sudden switch confusing you before he speaks and confuses you even more. “I thought you didn’t like that word,” he says, wiping his face of tears and then placing his hands on your own arms around his torso. 

You furrow your eyebrows, though with him in front of you, there was no point. “What word?” You ask. Surely he wasn’t talking about the word ‘panic attack’ but racking your brain, there was nothing else you said that wasn’t just a normal word.

“You don’t know you said it,” he says curiously, a small sniffle coming from his figure as he tries his own attempt at a light laugh. 

“What are you talking about, Jaem?” You question again. At this point, you were sure one of you was going crazy, and you really were banking on it not being you. Though, Jaemin just dismisses the subject, and with you sitting behind him, you missed the small smile that now covered his features.

“Nothing, please just continue holding me like this,” he begs softly, and you nod your head, squeezing him tighter for a second.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reply seriously, and there you and Jaemin sat for at least another ten minutes; the only noise to break the silence was his occasional cries as he still tried to rid himself of tears and calm down completely. 

When you couldn’t remember his last sniffle, you start to rub your thumb up and down a portion of his waist, disrupting the physical stillness before you spoke and disrupted the silence.

“I wanna get you some water soon,” you say gently, but any attempt to move from your position was shot down as Jaemin quickly fumbled to grab your arms and press them firmly back down across his torso, his body beginning to shake again at the idea of you getting up.

“No! Don’t leave! Please,” he chokes out, and almost all of the progress you thought he made in the past few minutes was erased.

You sigh, and refusing to think about the fact that you were practically breaking your own rule, you lean forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m staying right next to you, Jaem,” you start, and you watch as he basically forces his breathing to get back to normal at your words…or at least tries to. “Do you want me to call Jeno and get him to bring up water for you, or do you want to follow me down to the kitchen, grab a water bottle, and leave?”  

Jaemin thinks for a moment before dropping his head in what you assume was shame, which was the last thing he needed to be feeling. “I- can we leave?”

You squeeze your arms around his body once more in acknowledgement. “Yeah, come on,” you reply, and the two of you slowly make your way off the floor and into a standing position. As you let go of his waist, you immediately grab his hand in yours, looking up at Jaemin for confirmation that this was what he wanted to do. He stared back down at you with a teary smile and nod, and with that, you led him out of the bedroom and back downstairs. 

Thankfully, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung were still in the kitchen, meaning you had to cover no extra ground to fill Mark in on your departure. 

“Hey, I’m gonna take Jaemin home,” you say, turning to face Mark after grabbing a water bottle from the fridge he was standing next to.

Mark furrows his brows. “Everything okay?” He asks, knowing Jaemin wasn’t one to leave parties early, nor was he one to have tear streaks painted across his face.

You try to smile but it comes out more as a grimace. “Yeah, he’s just a little overwhelmed today. Thank you for inviting us, though. It was a blast.” 

Mark nods his head in understanding. “Thanks for coming. Are you driving?”

“Yeah,” you reply, and Mark forces some sobriety back in his system.

“You haven’t had anything to drink, have you?” He asks in worry, and you let a grateful smile paint your face as you respond.

“No, I’m okay.”

Mark nods before taking another sip of his own drink. “Okay. Be safe. I’ll see you guys soon.” You reciprocate his nod in acknowledgement and then immediately lead Jaemin towards the front door and back to the car.

You make sure he’s all taken care of in the passenger seat before you start messing with the controls in the driver’s seat to move it to where you could actually drive. You make a mental note to apologize about changing the position of his seat and mirrors tomorrow after everything’s calmed down, but as you start driving, Jaemin is the one to beat you to an apology. 

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, and you risk a quick glance over at him with furrowed brows.

“Huh, why?”

Jaemin fiddles with his fingers in his lap, unable to look anywhere else because of his embarrassment. “For making you leave the party. You were having fun,” he answers softly, and despite your best efforts, a small laugh escapes you.

“Jaem, I was having fun because all we did was hang around with our group of friends. I don’t care for parties in and of themselves, you know that. Truthfully, I’d rather just be with you right now,” you say, and as you pull up to a stop sign, you look back over at him again. Defeat riddled his features as he spits out a response.

“But I’m just crying.” He speaks those words as though he were mad at himself for it, and you don’t understand how your best friend came to believe that he always had to be some perfectly presented guy.

You let out a sigh before turning your attention back to the road. “It doesn’t change the fact that I like spending time with you. Besides, you’d be crazy to think I’d rather be anywhere else right now when you’ve got me so worried about you.” When the only response from Jaemin is another sob he tries to cover up, you frown. “I’m not mad at you for making us leave the party early, and I’m not mad at you for crying,” you add on, and Jaemin finally lifts his head to look over at you in his driver’s seat. He seems to scan your figure up and down, processing your words and the fact that you were actually taking care of him right now. He sniffles once more before abruptly turning his focus back to his lap, and the car ride is silent the rest of the way to his apartment. 

As soon as Jaemin gets into his own room, he already looks a thousand times better; the tension in his shoulders finally falls and his breathing gets more regular. You scavenge around his apartment for anything he may need during the night and next morning, because outside of his panic attack, he was still tipsy, too. 

With a fresh water bottle and ibuprofen set on his night stand, you bid Jaemin goodnight, running a hand gently through his hair as he laid down in bed. However, before you can fully turn around and leave, Jaemin catches the hand you just had in his hair. In shock, you whip back around, just to be met with wide pleading eyes.

“Please stay,” he says softly, and your breath hitches for a moment before you resume your cool, or at least try to.

“Jaemin-” You start, your tone already giving way to your refusal. Though, Jaemin cuts you off in an instant, his grip on you getting slightly tighter.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me,” he shoots back, and his voice is already shaky again from the sudden raise in volume of his claim.

You sigh, trying to slowly snake your hand out of his grip as you reply. “Yeah, but I was kind of meaning that for while we were still at the party, not…now, when you’re going to sleep.”

He refuses to let you out of his hold, and he pulls you even closer to the end of the bed. “What if Haechan comes back?” He starts, trying his best to talk normally. “He’d be really confused as to why you didn’t stay over after the night I had.”

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “There’s no shot Haechan makes it back tonight or is sober enough to think about anything but getting in bed himself. You’re just saying that to try and convince me.”

He finally lets his grip on you drop as he lets out a heavy breath bordering on the dividing line between defeat and hope. “Is it working?” He asks, and though you were finally free from his grasp, able to just say a final goodnight and leave to head back to your place, you don’t. Instead, you drop your head, speaking so softly you’re not sure Jaemin would even be able to hear.

“I want the side next to the wall.” 

With your gaze facing the floor, you couldn’t see the sudden warm glow behind Jaemin’s eyes as he pulled back the comforter on that side and pulled his legs up so you could crawl over by the foot of the bed, neither of you saying another word as you do. 

Jaemin didn’t know why he was so captivated by watching you fall asleep in his bed. The two of you must’ve been at least a full foot away from each other, as you immediately made sure to press up against the wall and make yourself as small as you could. That was fine by Jaemin. He wasn’t asking for the two of you to cuddle in the first place - this was still a fake relationship after all, and he was very much aware of that. In fact, that truth was probably more plaguing than ever at the front of his mind. Now instead of a reminder that he had to pretend to date you, it was a reminder that this was ending in two months. Jaemin’s tipsy brain couldn’t put together what the sinking feeling in his chest meant at the realization of that. So, he pushed it away, and just looked over at you sleeping peacefully right up against the wall. He didn’t need to have his arms around you - knowing you were next to him was enough, and for the first time that night since the party started, he was completely at peace.

When you wake up and realize you were more comfortable than usual in your bed, you open your eyes and figure out that it’s because you’re not in your bed. In fact, you’re hardly resting against a bed at all. Instead, one of your arms is lazily thrown over your best friend’s waist as your head rested comfortably, incredibly too comfortably, on his chest. The discovery that your legs were some kind of interlaced didn’t make things any better, and the full realization that you were practically on top of Jaemin had you jolt. This, of course, didn’t do anything but wake him up. With your head now propped up on his chest, you watch as he slowly peeks open one of his eyes, exhaustion still written over all his features. However, the second his gaze lands on you, he shoots open both eyes. Embarrassment quickly floods your being as you address everything. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

You’re cut off with a light chuckle and softly spoken words from Jaemin. “You’re okay.” Regardless of his response, you can’t shake the embarrassment. Jaemin’s arms fall from around your body as you try to get up, and that’s when you realize both of his arms were wrapped around you in the first place. You push the thought to the back of your head, turning to get off of his bed completely. 

You’re stopped by his hand grabbing yours. You quickly turn your attention back to Jaemin, who still had yet to move any part of his body but his arms as he looks at you softly, pleading. “Can we go back to sleep?”

You swallow awkwardly, your throat now suddenly dry. You dart your eyes around his room before sighing and just landing your gaze back on him. “Um, do you still need me here for that?” You ask genuinely. Jaemin breaks eye contact this time, as he just looks down at your two hands still holding onto each other. He gives a slow nod of his head, humming a little. 

You bite your lip to stop a smile from coming onto your face. It wasn’t often that you got to see your best friend looking as gentle and small as he did now. Jaemin, with the larger than life personality just wanting to stay in bed with you, it was hard to say ‘no.’ So, you don’t. “Okay.” Though when you move to resume your position back by the wall, he chuckles a bit and uses your still interlocked hands to pull you back onto him. 

The next two days after you woke up on top of Jaemin (again) were filled with an awkward period of zero contact between the two of you. You couldn’t blame him for not responding to your text to hang out the day after. You were both really good at never crossing lines back in high school, but Halloween put a blur on every single one…and it didn’t help that he was tipsy that night, too. Outside of whatever rules in your contract were broken, you were sure Jaemin was also just embarrassed to no end. 

There was a lot of pressure on him to be this man with no emotions; his label as a fuckboy meant people typically started and stopped all their thoughts about him at the sexual level, and he did his best to live up to their many expectations in that department, neglecting all the other parts of his being that needed tending to. Vulnerability was not a Jaemin specialty, largely because it’s never what anyone was looking for from him; and anything that lessened his sex appeal, and thus meant he couldn’t make a call and immediately have any girl he wanted, was a possibility he sought to avoid. 

You didn’t necessarily mind the no-contact, though. Your heart was doing flips and spins in Jaemin’s presence on Halloween, and you had to give yourself a cool-down period before seeing him so that you could act normal around him again - whatever it was that ‘normal’ looked like when you were having to convince a group of friends that you liked your best friend while convincing your best friend you didn’t actually like him. 

Jaemin made up an excuse for your absence at Monday’s lunch, but on Tuesday he finally messaged you again and asked you out for ice cream, which you of course said ‘yes’ to. He meets you at the entrance to your dorm and smiles at you with something like a sigh of relief when you smile back at him; though, with his messy hair, thick-framed glasses, and a hoodie adorning his figure, it was hard to do anything but smile - he looked criminally boyfriend. 

“Hey, I’m- sorry…for it being weird these past few days,” he gets out somewhat awkwardly as you start on your walk towards the best ice cream parlor by campus. 

You shake your head with a small laugh. “It’s okay. You’ve been going through it recently,” you joke, and Jaemin licks his lips before bringing himself to laugh as well. 

“Thanks for uh- putting up with me on Halloween.” He speaks as though the words were bitter on his tongue. “I’m sorry about forcing you to spend the night.” 

You let out a sigh. You wanted to stop and force him to see the sincerity in your eyes as you told him that you weren’t ‘putting up with him,’ but you knew you needed to keep this moment more casual so he wouldn’t find these vulnerable bits overwhelming and consequently shut down. So instead, you just keep walking with a small shake of your head.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. You just had a panic attack - if I didn’t spend the night, I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep. I would’ve stayed up all night worried about you. It was better that I was with you.” 

Jaemin lets something like a grimace cross his features as he responds with a wry laugh. “You care about me a lot,” he points out, making you look up at him by your side with raised brows.

“Of course I do. You’re my best friend,” you say seriously, and Jaemin looks down to meet your gaze, giving away the distant look in his eyes.

“Ha, fair,” he begins. “I care about you a lot, too.” As he continues, he drops his head to face his feet. “But I don’t think I’d know how to take care of you while you’re having a panic attack,” he admits regrettably, but all you can do is give a soft smile.

“I’m not expecting you to. All I ask is that you let me be there for you again if you have another one…and that you stop being so embarrassed about showing emotions,” you tack on, causing Jaemin to laugh a bit in defeat.

“Okay, angel, but only with you. I have a hot guy persona to keep up in the real world,” he says through a smile, but you shake your head.

“You’re hot, regardless,” you deadpan, and Jaemin’s face lights up as he nudges you in the side playfully.

“Well, look at that! You sweet talker. Maybe I’ll pay for your ice cream today,” he banters, and soon the two of you are in shared laughter as you elbow him back. 

“Whatever. I’m 80% sure you were gonna pay for my ice cream even before that.”

“80%?” He echos, bringing a hand up to his chest as though he’s been shot. “Such little faith,” he tuts, shaking his head and making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Am I supposed to have more faith in a fuckboy than that?” You tease, and Jaemin’s face falls into a mock seriousness, holding open the door to the ice cream parlor for you as he looks at your figure with raised eyebrows. 

“No, you’re supposed to have more faith in your best friend than that,” he says as you pass through the door, and you look back at him to share matching small smiles.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I have nothing but faith in you,” you reply as he, too, fully steps inside and lets the door swing closed behind him. The proximity has you looking almost directly up at him as he stares down at you in much the same manner; playful gleams in your eyes and fond smiles adorning your faces. At once, he nods his head towards the counter behind you.

“Go order, angel. It’s on me today.” 

You scrunch your face up at him with a big grin. “Thanks, handsome.” Then you promptly turn around and head towards where the cashier was waiting to take your order, not even taking one chance to look back and see how red Jaemin’s face had gotten in response. 

Jaemin knew it was coming, that was the funny thing. He just wasn’t expecting the disconnect between his head and his heart to be remedied all at once; but looking at you standing in line and pointing at what flavor you wanted, he had never wanted to do this with anyone else, but he really really wanted it with you, today and every day after that.

Sitting down and actually eating ice cream included the most normal of conversations between you and Jaemin. He wasn’t your best friend for nothing - the two of you could talk forever and never run out of things to say or comfort and joy to find in each other’s presence. As such, when you finished your ice cream cones and left the parlor, interaction flowed as it always had while he walked you back to your dorm…meaning the two of you looked like just best friends; close enough on the sidewalk to hear each other but far enough apart so that there was no possibility of accidentally grazing the back of each other’s hands or anything. You were hardly conscious of it, elated at the fact that you and Jaemin were so close and consistent again after the past few years, but Jaemin could practically only focus on the distance between the two of you.

You had basically just stepped foot back on actual campus when Jaemin abruptly stopped, grabbing your wrist and turning you towards him as he spoke in a rush.

“My friends are looking, kiss me,” he says in something close to a panic, and so you immediately oblige, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him firmly. You place your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you break away, catching your breath - something that Jaemin always seemed to make you lose - as you turn your head around to look at the surrounding area.

“Where are they?” You ask through a light pant, turning back to Jaemin once you checked and double checked but caught no sign of his friends. 

Jaemin licks his lips hesitantly, shaking his head. “They must have left already,” he says through an exhale, and you take a deep breath, finally allowing yourself to step away from Jaemin’s body as you face the ground, trying to regain your footing from the whiplash it felt you just went through. Jaemin lets out an awkward cough before speaking up again. “We should probably hold hands all the time when we’re in public, though. I’m pretty sure Chenle’s the only suspicious one still out of the friend group, but it’d throw anyone off if we’re dating and not holding hands. And if there’s one thing I learned from the Halloween party, it’s that people don’t know we’re dating, and that should probably change so it doesn’t just look like an act put on for the friend group…or Chenle’s never gonna believe it.” 

He wasn’t wrong, and you knew that - you knew that before all of this even started. Rule number three was that the act is immediately dropped in private, but that came with the other side of things being that you had to put on an act while in public, regardless of who was around to witness it. 

You nod your head slowly. “Yeah, okay,” you cede, and Jaemin’s hand immediately finds yours, the warmth from the contact making you realize how chilled your bones currently were. There was no more hiding it from girls in your classes now - you were Jaemin’s girlfriend to the general public, not just to his six best friends. You needed these next two months to pass by quickly, because with the promise of Jaemin’s hand being in yours more than ever, you were sure your chances of survival just decreased dramatically. 

That Friday, your date night was replaced with a night in at Jaemin’s apartment. As soon as he shot you a text saying he was home from class, you made your way over to his place. He opened the door with the bright smile he typically revealed just for you, stepping back to let you inside with a fond, “hey angel.” 

You step inside with a smile and small greeting in reply. “What do you wanna do today?” You ask, turning around to face him once you realize you were aimlessly crossing the span of his apartment for no reason. Already preparing for the question, Jaemin moves his hand from behind his back to reveal a thick blu-ray case in his grip.

“Harry Potter movie marathon?” He asks with a smirk.

You look back at him with raised eyebrows and a small grin of your own. “You know I can’t say ‘no’ to Harry Potter at any point in the Fall or Winter seasons,” you reply, and Jaemin’s eyes find a new glow behind them.

“That and Gilmore Girls; though I’m much more in the mood for Harry Potter because if we started rewatching Gilmore Girls now, we’d have to get through all those episodes with that floppy-haired jerk and really, Jess is so much better,” he adds on seriously, and all you can do is laugh. 

“Hey, Dean is at least better than Logan,” you respond, and Jaemin lets out an actual groan.

“Please don’t get me started on Logan…can we instead get started on Harry Potter?” He asks again, waving the disc case around invitingly and causing you to laugh some more as you walk towards the couch. 

“Just waiting on you,” you answer as you plop down on the couch, making Jaemin roll his eyes playfully before turning around to set everything up on the TV. As the familiar soundtrack fills the room, Jaemin places himself next to you like normal, handing you a blanket to make the cozy night-in complete. 

Two hours later, as Jaemin got up to switch out the discs from The Sorcerer’s Stone to The Chamber of Secrets, you got up for a bathroom break, and when the two of you sat back down, there was maybe an inch less space between you both than previously. Not much else changed. That is, until not even ten minutes into the second movie. You catch in your peripheral as Jaemin moves his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. You don’t think anything of it until that arm doesn’t come back down to his side, but instead wraps around the back of your shoulders.

“Is Haechan here?” You ask lightly, trying to talk over the sound of your breath hitching. Haechan’s room was closest to the bathroom, and you don’t remember any sign of life coming from nearby while you were in there, but nothing else explained this, because this was not normal between the two of you. 

“No,” Jaemin answers shortly, and all you can do is swallow hesitantly as you fight for words again.

“Then why is your arm around my shoulder?” You ask, trying to make it sound as though your words were a playful tease and not a desperate question. 

Jaemin looks over at you with raised eyebrows and a playful smirk. “Because what if he comes back?” He replies casually, and you try to roll your eyes in much the same manner, as though his arm around your shoulder wasn’t single-handedly making your heart rate spike. He was right, anyway - if Haechan came back, it would be weird for the two of you to be sitting any other way.

It was during Prisoner of Azkaban when Haechan inevitably walked into the apartment. Busy with locking the door behind him, he was caught off guard when locking eyes with the two of you as he turned back around. Though, all at once, his gaze softened as he looked between you, Jaemin, and the television. “Hey guys,” he says warmly, and you mentally high-five yourself not only for the fact that you and Jaemin seemed to have truly won Haechan over, but also that you had won Haechan over; the main reason this bet was even made was because Haechan couldn’t stand whatever girl it was that Jaemin had over, but here he was, excited to see you cuddled into Jaemin on the couch, and that win was not lost on you. 

“Hey,” Jaemin replied with a smile. “We’re watching Harry Potter if you want to join,” he continues, but Haechan shakes his head at the extended invite as he moves to grab something from the mess that was the kitchen counter.

“Tempting, but- I’m all good. I’m about to head back out, actually. Mark and I are gonna hit a few bars and try to unwind from this bullshit week,” he says with a weak laugh. You and Jaemin flash your eyebrows in acknowledgement. 

“Let me know if you need a ride back home. We’ll swing by to grab you and Mark, or- I will, at least, depending on what time it ends up being. Regardless, be safe. I enjoy having you as a roommate,” Jaemin says, his tone turning more playful with every word. 

Haechan rolls his eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I won’t drink and drive. We all know I’m smarter than that,” he says, but when he makes eye contact with you and Jaemin again, he meets your wide-eyed stares of doubt, causing him to shake his head with a more hearty laugh. “You guys suck,” he says with a smile. “I’ll keep you updated throughout the night. It was nice seeing you, y/n,” he continues seriously, beginning to fiddle with the front door lock on his exit.

“You, too,” you reply genuinely, and with one more nod and wave goodbye, he was out the door. It wasn’t even five seconds later when Jaemin’s arm detaches itself from your shoulder, instead finding comfort at his side again. He didn’t pay any mind to it, his attention pinned solely on the movie. You do your best to not show any physical reaction to the absence of his touch, especially when you were the one giving him a hard time for it in the first place. You’re almost shocked by how well Jaemin is able to turn it on and off, though you figure the real problem was how poorly you were able to do the same. Jaemin was just doing his part, exactly as he said he would. 

Your heart had to stop looking for hidden meaning to every touch, every “angel,” because he was your best friend and crush, but you were his best friend and fake-girlfriend. Unbeknownst to you, Jaemin ran through the same spiel in reverse inside his own head, figuring if he kept his arm around you now with the promise of Haechan being gone, you would surely catch onto the fact that he craved your touch more than typical of best friends - which was exactly what you both were going back to at the start of the new year.

It was the first Tuesday after you and Jaemin agreed to ramp up your public dating facade, and you were already the center of attention as you walked into class at 11:00. You tell yourself no one’s gaze locked onto you as you opened the door for class - that you were making it up; but at least some percent of that story was false, because as you sit in your chair and start pulling out your notebook for class, your name gets called from the seat diagonal to you. “Y/n, rumor has it that you and Jaemin are actually dating,” this girl, Hana, says. You knew she was looking for a response, so you don’t give her one, instead focusing on your pen mindlessly rolling between your fingers. 

“You? With a guy like him?” She continues, adding more bite and disbelief to each word. You keep your gaze focused in front of you, jaw tightening as you try to hide more robust reactions. That is, until she continues. “You can’t be that good in bed.” Your fist clenches as you whip your head towards her; furrowed, taunting eyebrows matching the fire in her eyes and the smirk on her lips, the rest of her friend group snickering behind her. You have the patience for none of it - you were not going to sit here and take this.

“Actually,” you begin, your kind tone dripping in sarcasm. “I know this is something you don’t have experience with, so bear with me, but Jaemin genuinely likes me as a person and so I didn’t have to win him over with just my skills in bed. Yeah! He actually wants to hold my hand and tell me pretty things and I’m just so sorry that he never had the desire to do any of that with the likes of you!” You give her one last look before shrugging a bit, even your fake smile completely ridden from your face. “Actually, I’m not sorry at all.”

Hana looks mortified, her friend group in the surrounding desks all watching the exchange now with wide eyes. You don’t even think any of them saw it coming when Hana got up from her seat and lunged towards you, swinging at your face. “You bitch!” She yells at you, her fist making contact with the area around your eye. You wince slightly but you refused to give her the satisfaction of a bigger reaction - you’d leave that for when you were alone. You move your hand up to touch the area, making sure none of her rings caught your skin and drew blood, but when your fingers came back clean, you just move your gaze back to her in disinterest.

“Are you done now?” You ask monotonously. You catch her fist clench again in your peripheral and prepare yourself for another hit because seemingly none of the other students were concerned with stopping the exchange. However, your professor finally walks in before Hana can even get another word out, and instead she’s told to take her seat as you swing back to face the front of the room in your own chair. The throbbing that half of your face was currently experiencing would have to wait an hour and twenty minutes to be addressed, you weren’t letting her win.

Thankfully, that was your last of two classes for the day, so you were able to head back to your dorm directly after. You throw your backpack down in the entryway and immediately head for your bathroom to assess the damages. “Fuck,” you whisper under your breath. The hour and a half was enough time for a proper bruise to start forming, and it wasn’t necessarily the prettiest of black eyes. You move a hand up to touch the area again, this time just the light pressure already putting you in horrid pain. With a defeated groan, you leave the bathroom and dig through your freezer for an ice pack to hold up to the area instead. 

Settling yourself down on the couch, you decide the last thing you need is for Jaemin to see you like this. With a sigh, you open your phone and pull up your texts with him. Hey, just a heads up, I don’t have a lot of time to hang this week or make it to friend group lunches.  

Jaemin’s reply is almost instantaneous. Is everything okay?

You frown at the message. You hated lying to your best friend, but explaining what was up would defeat the whole purpose of saying you couldn’t hang out anyways. Yep! You reply instead, thankful when Jaemin didn’t press any further. You’d give yourself a week to heal, and then you were sure makeup would be able to cover what little would be left of the bruising by then.

Those plans didn’t even last twenty-four hours. There was a knock on your door after classes on Wednesday and you figured it was your RA here to remind you not to leave your windows open while out at class with the chances of snow ever increasing. Though, when you lazily throw your door open, it’s your best friend on the other side. Your eyes go wide and you immediately move a hand up to cover the left half of your face where your black eye was still very much at its peak. “Jaemin, what are you doing here?!” You ask in a rush, but he doesn’t match your demeanor at all.

Instead, he shrugs, a light smile painting his lips. “I missed you, angel-” He answers as he brings a hand up to your wrist and gently guides your own hand down away from your face…and that’s when his energy completely flips, eyes going wide as he rushes to place a hand on your cheek and assess the damage himself. “Oh my god, what happened to you?!” He asks in a panic. You shake your head adamantly, trying to move his hand away from your face as you reply with a serious bite.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” you reply dismissively, and Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow as he scans your entire face.

“Is this why you said you couldn’t hang out?” He asks, almost mad if you had to put an emotion on it.

You shake your head, dropping your gaze to face the floor. “Jaem, don’t worry about it-” You start indifferently, but he cuts you off with enough emotion for the both of you. 

“What happened?” He questions again, this time his tone much firmer than any of his previous questions. His gaze bore into you, and you knew there wasn’t any getting out of this. You let out an annoyed sigh, shrugging like it was nothing as you go to reply.

“This girl in my class found out we were dating, and apparently that pissed her off because she didn’t think I deserved you or I was taking her spot and all that. And I snapped back so she punched me,” you finally answer, and Jaemin’s body language immediately softens as he looks over you once more with a frown and wide eyes.

“Y/n…” You don’t want to deal with his sorry tone. Instead, you move to meet his gaze again as you shake your head, the frustrated tears in your eyes rather revealing themself in your fractured tone.

“Please just sleep with her, Jaem. Tell her we broke up or something and then sleep with her. Or pretend you’re cheating on me with her…she’d love that, and no one would believe her if she said so, so we keep our cover,” you suggest in a rush, and Jaemin looks at you as though you just committed murder.

“No. Absolutely not,” he replies instantly.

“Jaem-” You start through a defeated exhale, but hearing you out was currently the last thing on Jaemin’s mind.

“I’m not fucking sleeping with someone who hurt you,” he states with force, and you don’t know why this is such a big deal to him, not when the solution was this simple.

“I would just rather have her satisfied and dealt with,” you respond hollowly, and Jaemin actually lets out a laugh.

“Oh, I’ll be sure to deal with her, don’t worry.” His angry promise makes you sigh, and all you can do is respond in defeat.

“Jaem-” You begin, and you’re not given any time to decide how you want to continue as he cuts you off. Passion still courses through Jaemin’s body as he shakes his head, taking a break from clenching his jaw to speak again.

“She should know better than to lay a hand on my girl,” he argues, and now you absolutely know you need to get him to calm down.

“I’m not really your girl,” you state plainly, and if you weren’t already feeling deflated, you sure did now as you admitted that. Jaemin seems to react to your statement in much the same way, his features softening for a moment as he looked at you again, bringing a hand up to run through his hair in frustration; though this time, the frustration was aimed towards himself. 

“I- I know. I’m sorry, I never should have asked you to do this for me. I was so selfish, goddammit,” he rambles under his breath absentmindedly as he begins to pace back and forth. You shake your head softly, reaching out to catch Jaemin’s wrist and force his movements to still.

“It’s fine, handsome,” you state firmly, and you watch as a million emotions run over Jaemin’s face, him just sucking on his bottom lip in hesitation. The hand that was previously caught in your grip comes up to cup your cheek again, his thumb lightly grazing your bruise as he studies you with a sad look on his face. 

“No, angel,” he begins with a sigh. “It’s really not.” 

You falter under his soft gaze and sure words, shaking your head as you fumble for words of your own. “It will be fine, then. Just let me lay low for a bit. I probably won’t be at lunch on Friday…I don’t necessarily need your friends seeing me beat up like this,” you try and laugh off.

Jaemin looks at you quizzically. “They wouldn’t-” He begins, but you cut him off with pleading eyes.

“Jaem, please,” you counter, and he just nods his head solemnly. 

“Okay.” He lets out a breath before darting his gaze around from you to the rest of the living area, locking eyes with your backpack and giving him a reason to stay in your presence for a bit longer. “Can we do homework together?” He asks, and you lightly sigh as you nod your head, guiding his hand down from your cheek so you could instead head towards the couch and set everything up on the coffee table for the two of you. 

Your main distraction from homework came in the form of whatever was on the television. Jaemin’s main distraction came in the form of you; he could hardly finish one part of an assignment without turning his head to look over at you, chewing on his bottom lip as he studied you softly, then whipping his gaze back to his laptop before you could ever feel his eyes on you. It was the least productive he's ever been.

Friday was the next time you saw Jaemin, when he came over as per usual for your ‘date nights.’ However, with you missing the friend group lunch for the second time this week, he immediately greeted you with a related request. “Hey, the guys miss you. They wanted to know if you were down for a movie night tomorrow,” he says casually as he closes the door behind him. 

You turn to face him with a straight face. “Jaem, my black eye isn’t going to be-” You watch as Jaemin rolls his lips inward and dodges your eye contact, and all you can do is let out a heavy sigh. “You told them, didn’t you?” You ask instead, and Jaemin’s hidden lips reappear to form a weak don’t-be-mad grin. That is, until he meets your eyes again and lets out his own sigh, shrugging his shoulders as he resets his facial expression to something more casual again.

“They wanted to know where you were,” he says in defense. You watch as the memory of lunch replays behind his eyes and he tilts his head slightly as he looks at you with an anticipatory cringe in how you were going to respond as he continues. “…and now they’re all pissed and want to be there to make you feel better, too,” he finishes with a dorky smile, as though his full set of teeth would fix everything. Unfortunately, he was right about that, and all you can manage is a huff of laughter as you shake your head. 

“Oh my. Sure, we can have a movie night,” you give in with a smile, and Jaemin lights up before pulling out his phone to text the group that the plans for tomorrow are a go. Then, your Friday night with Jaemin consisted of a large pizza, red wine, and board games. 

That Saturday night, Jaemin came to pick you up and take you back to his apartment where the movie night was being held, insisting that Haechan could hold down fort as he came to pick you up…and that no boyfriend would let his girlfriend drive herself over to his place when he had a perfectly good truck and an excuse to kiss you under the porch light before joining all the guys; you told him he was an idiot, but he met that with a kiss on your cheek, claiming that you were the idiot for not taking a free kiss under the porch light with the Na Jaemin…a low blow considering the reason behind your bruising eye. 

When you step inside his apartment, the rest of the guys silence mid-conversation, instead turning all of their attention to you. Their shoulders drop as your black eye comes into the light. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you turn into Jaemin’s chest, and he wraps his arms around you lightly with a warm laugh, kissing the top of your head before turning his attention to his friends. “I’m pretty sure you guys promised me you would be chill about this if she came over,” he states playfully, causing the rest of them to drop their heads with a small laugh of their own.

“Our fault for caring about her,” Jeno banters back, and all you can do is sigh and pull away from Jaemin’s chest, facing the rest of the group again. He was right, not about it being their fault, but for the fact that their frowns just meant they cared about you, and it wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same way towards them - you’d frown, too if one of them walked in battered and bruised. 

You roll your eyes playfully with a mellow shake of your head. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” you assure, turning your gaze to Jaemin before tossing your head side to side with a small smirk. “Besides, I’d say Jaem’s worth a punch or two.” The guys in front of you laugh but Jaemin furrows his brows.

“Or two?” He echoes worriedly, making you turn to him again with a soft, sure gaze. 

“One,” you promise him and watch as a bit of relief washes over his figure, nodding his head as he takes it in. 

“Um, you guys wanna watch Transformers?” Jisung speaks up awkwardly, shattering whatever tension you and Jaemin just created and instead making everyone chuckle. 

Mark whips his head over to Jisung. “I thought we were watching Spider-Man…?” He adds sulkily. Jisung’s jaw drops, because apparently he had been looking forward to a Transformers marathon nonstop since the plans were made; but Chenle cuts off any chance of a response from him, instead just shaking his head rapidly.

“It doesn’t matter. Just choose anything before they take the pause in activity to make out,” he says as though he were horrified by the possibility, and Renjun lets out a sure laugh as he places a hand on Chenle’s shoulder.

“Still traumatized by the pda you asked for at that first lunch?” He asks, and Chenle looks at him with wide eyes.

“Can you blame me? So, they’re in a relationship…that’s great. Slightly cringe, but whatever. You know what’s not cringe? Spider-Man.”

“The Transformers!” Jisung corrects adamantly, getting everyone to laugh again.

“Sure, the Transformers,” Chenle agrees automatically, and Haechan rolls his eyes with a soft smile as he moves to set up the TV. 

The eight of you got situated before another beat could pass. Mark on the recliner, Chenle and Jisung on the small couch, and then you, Jaemin, Jeno, Haechan, and Renjun taking up the big couch in the middle of the room. You cuddled easily into Jaemin as he threw an arm around your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on the side of your arm. 

For the group of you typically being a mess of chaos when you were all together, the eight of you somehow all followed the same unspoken rules when it came to movie night. There was no talking and, surprisingly, no one distracted by their phone. However, the peace of the perfect movie night was broken maybe twenty minutes into the first movie, when a chill ran through your body and the resulting shiver didn’t go unnoticed. “Do you want a blanket, y/n?” Mark asks softly. All at once, the guys whipped their heads towards him, furrowed brows adding to their glares at his disruption. That is, until it registers for them what Mark just asked, and all their gazes soften as they draw their attention to you in wait for your answer, Haechan pausing the movie entirely. 

You let out a laugh under your breath, shaking your head at Mark with a grateful smile. “No, I’m okay,” you say quickly, trying to get everyone’s focus back on the movie because one shiver was not enough reason for concern. The guys all flash their eyebrows at your answer, immediately accepting it as they turn their attention back to the movie. 

It isn’t long though before you shiver again, and while your attempt to cover it up was stellar, it wasn’t enough to get past the man holding you in his arms. Jaemin leans down so his lips are by your ear. “Go put on one of my hoodies,” he whispers slowly.

You shake your head minimally in response, eyes still trained on the Transformers. “I’m okay-” Your whispered words are cut off when the movie pauses, and you whip your head over to face Jaemin now, remote in hand and raised brows as he stares back at you seriously. A chorus of complaints erupt from the rest of the guys but Jaemin is only focused on you, and you can’t do anything but let out a light sigh. “Are you sure?” You ask, and Jaemin’s brows go from raised to furrowed.

“Am I sure? Of course I’m sure. You’re my girlfriend. Please go dig through my closet and wear my clothes,” he replies firmly, nodding his head now in the direction of his bedroom. You dodge any further eye contact with him as you instead slip out of his arms and towards his room. You don’t spend too much time in there, more than aware that they were all still waiting on you before unpausing the movie. You throw on the first hoodie you see, trying to ignore how much it smelled like him - how comforting it was to be wrapped in that scent. 

You put on a straight face as you walk back out to the living room, though you begin to think it was unnecessary considering their reactions, or- Jaemin’s, at least. He immediately broke from the idle chatter he was having with Jeno as he instead locked his gaze on you, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. You fall shy under his gaze, looking around at the rest of the guys to see if you missed something before accepting the fact that it was just Jaemin who had the answers. “What?” You ask hesitantly, and it forces Jaemin to snap back to reality and collect himself.

He lets out something of a defeated laugh, shaking his head as he concludes his look up and down your body. “You should’ve been swimming in my hoodies for the past two months already,” he answers seriously, and suddenly your cheeks are on fire. You hide your face in your hands and the rest of the guys let fond grins paint their face at the interaction between the two of you. That was the first time it truly hit all of them that they were each about to lose $100 soon. Though it was hard for them to even be mad about it, because in everyone’s eyes but your own, Jaemin was whipped, and that was all they ever wanted for their best friend. 

The group got through three movies before everyone started fading, eyelids feeling heavier by the minute. Renjun was the one to turn the lamp on at the side table beside him, putting everyone on the same page as they all got up from their seats and started getting ready to leave. Chenle is the first to say his goodbyes and head for the door, but as he places his hand on the knob, he whips back around. “Oh, wait!” He starts, louder than any of you were prepared for as you stare back at him in question. He shakes his head, the volume of his voice apparently even getting to him, but then he looks back at you all seriously. “I’m having my big New Year’s Eve party again. You’re all invited, obviously. I don’t know anyone’s plans after finals week, so I figured I’d just tell you now before we’re all in different places - if you wind up back at NCIT by December 31st, I’d love to have you, and if you wind up back at NCIT even earlier than that, please please please please please-” 

“Chenle,” you all cut him off in unison, and he gives an awkward laugh.

“Please consider helping set up,” he says flusteredly. You all let out fond chuckles as you nod your head at the boy, and he lets a wide smile grace his features before finally opening the door and leaving with a soft ‘thank you.’ 

Dropping you off at your dorm, Jaemin fumbles for words before you can even open the door back to your place, and you turn around to pin all your attention on him instead as he speaks up awkwardly. “Uh- about Chenle’s party…”

“Yes, I’ll go. We said that would be our last day together so we might as well be…together,” you say, and Jaemin nods his head slowly. 

“Okay; and for next weekend…?” He leaves the question at that and that’s when you realize you truly hadn’t given him much to plan with yet. You shake your head with a small laugh. 

“We’ll leave Saturday morning for my parents’ house. I have finals up until Friday anyways. The big dinner you have to be there for is Saturday night, so you can do whatever you would like with your break after that.” 

Jaemin processes the information with a distant expression before pulling it into a smile. “Alright, angel. Good luck with finals next week. I’ll be ready to go Saturday morning,” he says happily, and all you can do is match his smile.

“Good luck on your finals, too-” You start, but as you move to wrap him in one last hug, you catch sight of the hoodie covering your arms and jump back. “Oh! I’m still wearing your hoodie. Sorry-” You speak in a rush as you work to try and slip out of it, but Jaemin shakes his head.

“Don’t worry. Keep it,” he responds seriously, making you whip your head up at him and causing him to laugh. “It would be really suspicious if I came back home with the hoodie that I just said you looked cute in, and I’m not taking any chances with us so close to the three month mark now. Just don’t lose it…it’s my favorite hoodie.” 

You let out a flustered laugh. “Well, are you sure you don’t want it back, then? Haechan is probably asleep already-” You reason as you start pulling one arm out of the hoodie again. 

“Just keep it,” he cuts you off with a warm chuckle before continuing more somberly. “Our three months are almost up. I’ll get it back in no time.” If the words were bitter on his tongue, you didn’t notice. You were too preoccupied trying to neutralize your own emotions at the notion of this all ending soon. 

You’re scared your voice would betray you if you opened your mouth again to speak, so instead you just nod your head, finally wrapping him in that goodbye hug and then turning to let yourself into your dorm. 

Finals week somehow went by in a flash, and you’re scared to add up how many hours of it you spent in Jaemin’s hoodie. Though, the atypical schedule meant that you didn’t really have to worry about that - you only ever ran into Jaemin on campus for friend group lunches, and those were canceled this week since half of you would be in the middle of finals during the usual span of time; so, Jaemin never had to find out that you were practically living in the very same hoodie you had tried so hard to give back originally. 

Come Saturday morning, that hoodie was packed with all of your other clothes in your suitcase, currently in the trunk of your car as you drive over to pick Jaemin up before heading to your house. He places his luggage next to yours before opening the passenger door and sliding in. “Hey, angel! Ready to pull all this off for your parents, too?” He asks with a devious smirk. You roll your eyes, trying to buy into the playfulness to forget about the dread filling your system at the idea of heading back home right now.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Thank you again for agreeing to this,” you say seriously, and Jaemin looks at you as though you were crazy.

“Of course I’d agree to do this. Do you realize how much you’re doing for me?” He banters back, effectively getting you to laugh a bit as the tension in your shoulders drops. “Besides,” he continues more thoughtfully. “It’ll be nice to see our hometown again.” His words are much more mellow this time, and you look over at him with a sad grimace before shifting into drive and actually getting out on the road. 

As soon as Jaemin went to college, his family moved to Jeju Island, and for as often as the two of you talked about traveling there one day, it was much less exciting of an idea when it was already Jaemin’s home base and it’d just be you traveling to visit him. Even outside of that, you knew he missed the city - moving away from everything you know is only nice if it’s your choice, and moving to Jeju was definitely not his choice. 

It’s not like his relationship with his parents was impacted, though. He understood, and was very appreciative of the fact that they held out on the move until he graduated high school. Truly, if they were wanting to move, this was the time to do it. He’d graduate college and get his own place wherever he wanted; it’s just that now his place to go back to was Jeju rather than Seoul.

On the other hand, your family stayed put in the same house from childhood, but your relationship had gone through rough waters since you started college; something not even Jaemin knew, and now you were wondering how oblivious you could keep him of your current home-situation.

The verdict was ‘not very long.’ As soon as the two of you walked in your front door, your parents seemed shocked to be laying eyes on Jaemin with you. You push past them and towards your bedroom to put your stuff down, sending just a meek ‘hi’ their way. Jaemin watched you disappear with ample confusion, but his face quickly straightened up into a smile as he greeted your parents with hugs and gratitude for having him over. 

Your mom pulls back from the hug with a look of disbelief, shaking her head solemnly. “Jaemin, it’s wonderful to see you. I apologize for not having a space set up for you to stay. To be honest, when y/n said she was bringing a guest home, the last thing we were expecting was for it to be a guy,” she laughs off, and Jaemin’s eyebrows immediately furrow. Your own muscles tighten as you move to close your bedroom door, deciding that was already enough for you to hear. 

“Why?” Jaemin asks in return, trying to match the laugh from your mom, though his was half-hearted at best. 

Your mom shrugs it off like it’s nothing new. “Well, you know our y/n…doesn't exactly have a lot going for her-” 

“Y/n’s gorgeous, actually,” Jaemin cuts off with force, now taking a full step back from your mom and causing her hand to drop from where it was still at his forearm. “And sure, she has her guard up most of the time but that doesn’t change the fact that once she’s comfortable enough to be herself, she’s incredibly easy to love,” he continues, brows furrowed as he makes sure to get his point across. 

Your mom passes her gaze from Jaemin to her husband, taking a moment to exchange strange smiles with him before turning back to Jaemin. “Sorry, I seem to have offended you. I didn’t know you cared about my daughter that much.” She speaks every word as though she’s only half serious, and all it does is frustrate Jaemin even more. 

“Of course I care about her but that’s not even the point. You shouldn’t be saying that about your child and you used to know that, cause you never said anything like that when we were growing up. So, I don’t know what changed but I can tell you it wasn’t the worth of your daughter.” Setting all your stuff down, you open your bedroom door enough to catch his last sentence and immediately let out a heavy sigh, knowing you had to go out there and do something.

“Jaem?” You start, walking back out from the hallway. His face instantly changes from disgust to warmth as he snaps his head in your direction.

“Yeah, angel?” 

You nod your head back towards where you just came from. “My room is still the same one it’s always been. Since we’re apparently bunking together, if you want to go put your stuff in there so you’re not carrying it around throughout the house, you know where to go,” you say casually, trying to make it seem as though the sleeping arrangements were all you caught of his conversation with your mom.

Jaemin nods with a tight smile. “Alright, I’ll be back in a second,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as he passes you in his walk to your room and you take his place with your parents in the living room. You and your mom both watch as your dad looks between the two of you before immediately leaving to go outside, shaking his head as he does so and leaving just you, your mom, and the suffocating tension in the room.

You drop your head to face the floor and your mom is the first one to speak. “I didn’t know he liked you,” she says plainly, eyes darting towards the room Jaemin was currently in before landing on you again, your head now whipped up to face her with raised brows.

“Didn’t know he liked me or didn’t think I was capable of having him like me?” You ask in return, and your mom falters for a moment.

“Y/n…” She starts, but you shake your head.

“Am I good enough now? Is this enough for you? That I brought an attractive guy home who cares about me? Are you even the tiniest bit proud of me now?” The fire in your eyes soon matches that of your mother’s, her disproving gaze that you knew so well baring into you.

“Y/n, that’s not fair and you know that,” she counters, her voice raising with every word.

Your jaw drops as you look at her in disbelief. “What’s not fair is you judging me by the man I do or do not have to hold my hand at any given time.” You’re thankful when the words come out firm; you’ve never stood up to her like this, and when your mom studies you with intensity, it’s as though she doesn’t know the woman in front of her this time. 

“Well,” she breathes out, bringing her gaze back to your own. “Being with him has apparently given you some confidence…or a voice, at least.” Her tone borders between indifference and slight disgust, and all you can do is shake your head, unsure of how your relationship with your mom ever turned into this.

“I refuse to believe that you find an issue in the fact that he makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world,” you say in almost a plea for her to tell you it’s not true, but she never does; instead, it’s just Jaemin’s breath hitching in the hallway that he tries to cover up so you wouldn’t know he was listening. When neither you nor your mom turn your heads towards him, he realizes he was still under the radar. So, he prepares himself to walk back into the living room as though he just got done putting everything away in yours.

When he gets back by your side, he lightly kisses your temple, turning to face your mom as he sneaks a hand to rest on the small of your back; your mom stares at the physical contact and you think her eye actually twitches. Jaemin opens his mouth to start casual conversation back up but your mom cuts him off before he can even begin. “Your father and I are going out for the day. We will be back to cook dinner,” she states, and your eyebrows furrow immediately.

“You haven’t seen Jaemin in years and you’re just gonna leave right when he gets here?” You ask in shock, and your mom glares back at you.

“Dinner,” she replies sharply, and then she’s out the door. 

Jaemin’s hand on your back begins to rub lightly up and down, and as you turn to bury your face in his chest, he wraps you in a full hug. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, and Jaemin shakes his head. With one hand, he lightly guides your chin up so that you make eye contact with him, a soft smile on his face as he looks down at you. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, angel. It’s all okay. How about we just watch TV or something, go outside maybe…what’s gonna destress you?” He asks, his hand that was underneath your chin maneuvering to instead caress your cheek. 

You shrug, doing your best to dodge eye contact as you reply. “Anything in your presence,” you say seriously, missing the way warmth just reached every corner of Jaemin’s being at your words. 

“Okay,” he responds surely, and that’s how you found yourself walking the streets of your hometown, hand-in-hand with Na Jaemin. You visited his old house, the old playground, anywhere you could before the cold air finally caught up to you and you had to retreat back inside for some hot chocolate and more Harry Potter from your last unfinished rewatch session. 

Jaemin never brought up the obvious tension between you and your mom, something you were thankful for, but it also left you feeling guilty because you knew it was on his mind - the equation of where things went wrong between you and your mom after he left Seoul was continuously being worked out behind his eyes. When you explained this part of the fake-dating contract, he wasn’t expecting for your parents to actually be on your ass about not dating anyone, but stepping into this house was like a minefield, and any conversation around the topic turned into an explosion.

He wasn’t gonna make you talk about it though, you obviously weren’t ready to. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around you as best he could, making sure you and your cocoa were always kept warm throughout the duration of your latest movie marathon. 

Surprising you, when it was finally dinnertime, the atmosphere was lighter by the tiniest bit. Your parents were engaging with Jaemin, at least, and the presence of other long-time family friends put you at ease, too, because you knew a big fiasco is the last thing your parents would allow to happen in front of others. 

“Are you staying with us all of break?” Your mom asks as she puts her fork down and places all of her attention on Jaemin. He gives a sorry grin in return as he shakes his head.

“No,” he begins, and your face immediately drops, forcing you to take another bite so it’s less noticeable. “I was thinking I would surprise my parents. I haven’t seen them since the summer, and I figure that means it’s time to fly out and see them again,” he continues with a light laugh. “Though, when y/n asked me to come back with her for this dinner, I- well,” he drags off, taking a moment to turn and face you at his side, a fond smirk on his lips before he turns his head back to face his lap before you can notice. “I realize I’ve gotten incredibly bad at saying ‘no’ to her,” he finishes, his own light chuckle following his words.

Gazes soften all around the table as they listen to Jaemin, but you can’t bring your head up to look at him, sure the look in your eyes would give away how desperately you were wishing for those words to be real.

Your dad is the one to pick up the conversation again. “Well, we’ll be sad to see you go so soon, but it’s sure been a pleasure having you fill our house again,” he says with a tight nod that Jaemin reflects back to him, slightly softer in his perfect Jaemin way. 

That night, you and Jaemin went to bed before the rest of the adults did, but they had the advantage of alcohol to keep them occupied, and while that option was technically open to you and Jaemin, you both decided it would probably be best to stay under the label of ‘innocent youth’ with your parents and family friends.

You walk back into your bedroom after washing your face and putting on pajamas to see Jaemin already laying down. You trace his outline underneath the covers and sigh when you realize how little room was left in your full size bed. You slip under the covers and begin to turn on your side so you could take up the smallest space possible, but Jaemin evidently has other plans as he reaches over and pulls you so that you’re laying against his chest. “What are you doing?” You ask, propping your head up on his chest as you stare at him in confusion. 

He looks back at you as though there were no need for the question, his smirk playing lazily against his lips. “If you’re going to end up on top of me anyways, I’d rather just hold you there,” he replies, and all at once you’re vividly reminded of Halloween night. You don’t argue back, instead just rolling your eyes and resting your head back against his chest as you try to hide most of the blush on your cheeks. 

Jaemin idly draws shapes on your back as he watches you fall asleep on him. He swallows awkwardly, remembering what your mother said about you…what you said to your mother, and a kind of frustration fills his chest. He listens for any signal that you were still awake, and when he finds none, he presses the lightest kiss to the top of your head. “You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he whispers. His mortification comes when he feels you tense under his hold.

“You don’t have to pretend when it’s just us, you know,” you whisper back, and his heart breaks in his chest. His tone is firm as he replies, because if you were going to be awake to hear him say that, he might as well get his point across. 

“Some stuff I never had to pretend for. Some stuff is just a fact.”

You let out a heavy sigh, flipping which way your head was facing on his chest before speaking softly. “Go to bed, Jaemin,” you say, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the feeling of defeat that arose knowing you don’t believe him. He thinks about saying more but he figures now is not the time for it…that in your friendship, it may not ever be the time for it. So, he lets out his own light sigh, his grip around you going slightly tighter as he gets to work on actually falling asleep. 

The next day, all you really had time for was breakfast before you had to drive Jaemin to the airport. As you pull up to the curb for departures, Jaemin doesn’t even think twice before leaning over the center console to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for dropping me off,” he says sincerely amidst the rustling of him gathering his bags from various spaces of your car. You laugh as you open your own door, sliding around to the back of your car to pop the trunk and grab his suitcase.

“I’m coming inside with you, you know?” You tease lightly, missing the way Jaemin’s eyes soften at the care before he quickly vetoes your carrying of his luggage and rips his suitcase from your grip, causing you to laugh some more as you turn to face him now at your side. “But, of course, it was no problem,” you say genuinely, stepping inside the airport with him and too quickly facing the security checkpoint where you’d finally have to split. “Have a safe flight,” you continue, and with each word he’s now taking a step further than you dare to. “Tell your family I said ‘hi.’” 

Jaemin looks over his shoulder to smile back at you. “I will,” he promises firmly with a matching nod, and you throw a grin and final wave his way as he turns back to actually face where he was walking towards the entrance for security. As soon as you’re out of his line of sight, you allow your face to drop slightly alongside your gaze, letting out a light sigh at the feeling of him walking away from you. However, your attention is caught by the increasingly loud sound of heavy footsteps. You shift your gaze back in front of you to see Jaemin had changed his path and was instead heading straight for you again. 

“Jaemin-?” You question, but you’re cut off the second he gets close to you because he wastes no time in dropping his bags, cupping your cheek with his hand, and pressing a sure kiss to your lips. You melted right into it, something you would have to kick yourself for later, but at the present moment, all you could think about was his soft lips still lingering against yours.

“I’ll see you in a week, okay?” He says in a near-whisper. His words weren’t so much a statement as they were a reassurance, like he needed you to know that all you had to bear without him was a single week, like he intended to never leave you again once he came back. All you can do is swallow awkwardly, nodding as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah.” 

Jaemin’s gaze roamed over your entire figure as best it could with the two of you still in close proximity. You wanted to press up on your tiptoes and kiss him again for the hell of it, or maybe for the comfort of it, but Jaemin is the one to take action first, simply running his thumb gently across your cheek with a small smile before immediately turning to grab his bags and actually make his way through the security checkpoint. All you can do is stand and watch helplessly as he walks away from you. You’d see him in a week, sure, but then it’d be New Years before you knew it and all of this would slip right out of your hands…it practically already had. 

You were back at NCIT before Christmas, trading in family-time for time with Chenle, who was the only other one of your friends on campus for most of that duration. He tried to pretend that he needed to meet up with you to talk about plans for his New Year’s Eve party, but most of it was just excuses to hang out when he got lonely. One by one, the guys all made their way back to NCIT, Jaemin being the last to do so, coming in on the evening flight December 26th. 

You had brought Chenle with you to go pick him up, mainly because Chenle begged you to let him tag along. The two of you stood at the baggage claim for maybe fifteen minutes, Jaemin’s hoodie adorning your figure and providing you with comfort amidst Chenle’s constant nagging that you guys should have brought a sign saying that Jaemin was coming back from prison or something else more embarrassing. 

The baggage claim carousel had already begun spinning for Jaemin’s flight, and eventually even Chenle stops talking to instead join you in a frown as the two of you search for Jaemin. The verdict was that he must have just been the last person off the plane, because around five minutes later, you catch sight of his figure. “There he is- what’s he doing?” You ask confused as you look at Jaemin speed in your direction.

“Running towards you,” Chenle answers as if it were the most casual occurrence ever. He tosses his gaze over to you with raised eyebrows before continuing. “And I think you should probably start running towards him unless you’re prepared to catch his weight, cause I’m pretty sure he’s ready to jump on you.” 

Your eyes go wide at his words as you shake your head. “God, having a lunatic boyfriend is a lot of work,” you respond, feigning exhaustion. Chenle throws his arms up in defense.

“Hey, you chose him, not me,” he quips, making you smile before realizing you really had to start on your run towards him, because of all the things you were prepared for, catching Jaemin’s weight was not one of them.

You take off from where you and Chenle were standing, running up and meeting Jaemin somewhere in the middle as he lets go of his carry-on and puts his arms out for you. “Jaem!” You exclaim, jumping into his arms and wrapping around him like a koala.

“Angel!” He replies just as enthusiastically; hugging you tightly and spinning around once with the momentum.

“Chenle’s here so you have to kiss me,” you whisper in a rush, cupping his cheek with your hand as Jaemin steadies himself again.

He lets out a genuine laugh, catching your gaze with the brightest of smiles in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t gonna run all this way towards you for nothing,” he says surely. Then he presses his lips to yours, and the resulting warmth in your body should’ve made the snow outside impossible. 

Jaemin breaks away from you when he feels a tug on his shirt sleeve, and the two of you turn to make eye contact with Chenle. “You’re being cringe now, can you please take me home?” He asks plainly, making you and Jaemin laugh as he puts you down on the solid ground again, slipping his hand in yours as the next best option. Then, after making sure Jaemin had all of his things, the three of you were on the road back to NCIT.  

The next day, Jaemin and the guys went out for lunch, one you weren’t invited to because it was one you “couldn’t know about.” Sitting around the table in a perfect reflection of the start of the semester, the guys around Jaemin all wore a mixture of looks on their faces, ranging from impressed to sulky…though that last one was only Chenle, who despite having the most money in the group, hated giving it out. 

Mark is the one to finally address the reason they were all there. “Well, you did it. I’m sure we don’t need to be the ones to tell you that you’ve been dating y/n for three whole months now,” he says with a light laugh. Jaemin can’t bring himself to join in on the smiles and playfulness around the table.

“I can’t believe it’s been three months already,” he says hollowly, but both his tone and the distant look in his eyes go unnoticed by his friends, their tunnel vision on their childish bet covering over Jaemin’s anguish at winning. 

“Here’s your $600,” Haechan says after having collected everyone’s shares from around the table. “Can't wait to have a new PS5 in our apartment,” he quips, but Jaemin whips his head up at him, grabbing the $600 from his hands defensively. 

“I’m not spending it on a PS5…” He begins, dragging off as the fire dies from his tone and he returns to a contemplative state of being. “I’m gonna buy y/n something nice.”

Gasps are heard from quite literally everyone else at the table, all of them looking at Jaemin with wide eyes. “Really?” Jeno asks in disbelief, and Jaemin makes passing eye contact with all of his friends, giving them all odd looks for being so caught off guard.

“Yes, really. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I don’t know how to give her the world, but I can at least get her the best that $600 will buy,” he explains surely, and the rest of the guys all exchange glances with each other before turning back to him, Renjun being the one to take a jab this time through a hesitant laugh.

“Are we still talking to Na Jaemin?” He asks, making the rest of the guys laugh as well. Jaemin just lets out a sigh, finally able to find a bit of humor as well as he shakes his head, tucking the money away and turning the afternoon into a regular lunch hang out. 

Two days later, you get a call from Jaemin sometime after dinner.

“Angel?” He says softly once you pick up, his tone making you smile on the other end.

“Yeah, handsome?” You respond warmly. 

“Wanna go on a drive?” Jaemin asks, giving away no hints as to his current state of emotions, and your eyebrows furrow as you pry more.

“No destination?” You ask, and Jaemin shakes his head, not that you were able to see it anyways. His response is sharp.

“No.”

“Everything okay?” You question, the warmth in your tone turning into concern.

“Yeah,” Jaemin responds immediately. You let a beat pass in silence and it’s enough for Jaemin to want to fill it again on his own. “Just want some more time with you,” he explains shyly, and you let out a small breath of laughter as you oblige. 

“Let me get my shoes on.”

“I’ll be there to pick you up in five,” he replies firmly before immediately hanging up. 

True to his word, it only took five minutes before you’re opening the door to Jaemin. “Hey,” he says as soon as you make eye contact, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey,” you reply, your face hurting as you try not to smile too widely at his actions. Jaemin wouldn’t have noticed if you did, though, because he immediately turns to face the floor sheepishly. 

“Sorry if you were in the middle of something,” he finally says, making you furrow your brows at him - this wasn’t a Jaemin you were used to.

“Nothing that couldn’t wait,” you assure him before prying some more. “What’s up?”

Jaemin pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he shakes his head hesitantly. “Nothing. It’s just our last few days together. Figured we could hang out before you go off and get an actual boyfriend and I-” You watch as he fumbles for words, eventually giving up with a shrug as he finally makes eye contact with you again. “Go back to doing whatever it is I do.”

His answer doesn’t relieve you of any worry, and you move a hand up to cup his cheek as you tilt your head in study of him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Jaemin nods his head slightly against your hand, a fond smile at your touch replacing the distant expression he previously held. “There’s just a lot on my mind. Nothing for you to worry about. Just wanted to hang out with you and kind of escape it all for a bit,” he explains casually, eventually bringing both hands up to guide your own back down from his face, idly playing with your fingers as he asks his next question. “Do you still like cloud watching?”

“You know I do,” you reply with a laugh, and Jaemin finally bares his teeth as he smiles back at you. He checks to make sure you actually did put your shoes on already before switching his grip so that he was just holding your hand as he walked the two of you to his truck.

You ended up at one of those nature parks, where the fields are preserved for fields-sake rather than playgrounds. The two of you got out and made your way around to the tailgate of his truck and you register that he already had blankets and pillows in the back, completely reminiscent of high school. 

You both sat in silence for a while, staring up at the sky and giving yourselves a chance to be at peace, at least somewhere away from the false sense of urgency that always seemed to be around. Eventually, you move your gaze from the clouds above to where your arms were wrapped around your knees, debating with yourself before finally breaking the silence.

“Jaem?” You call softly, and he turns all of his attention towards you.

“Yeah, angel?” He replies in much the same manner. You dart your tongue out to lick your lips, anything you could do to prolong your question - which you were currently thinking should’ve lost in your inner debate.

You finally let out a sigh, still focused in front of you as you talk. “You know you’re much more than the image you’ve picked up around campus, right?” 

Jaemin’s face immediately whips back to the front so there would be no chance of making eye contact with you. “Um…” He begins, but that was the only word he could come up with before forfeiting with an awkward swallow. You know that means it’s up to you to continue.

“I know that day I first met your friend group, you had to make up a ton of stuff on how we got together and everything, but I don’t know if you were necessarily lying when you were talking about how I deserve better than getting tied into your fuckboy image. I just- wanna make sure you know, in case that has ever been your thought process for anyone you’ve had a crush on, that there’s so many more sides to you than that. An image is an image, okay? Don’t let it get to you.” Your courage is built with every word and you finally turn to face Jaemin as you continue softly, surely. “They don’t know you like I do.”

Jaemin’s lips part with a heavy exhale before he rolls them inwards in hesitation. “Do you mean it?” He finally asks, and there’s just a trace of sadness riddling his voice.

“Of course I do,” you say firmly, and Jaemin takes in your answer with a slow nod.

“It’s been hard. I-” He grimaces before letting out an awkward laugh. “Oh, this is kind of weird to talk about with you,” he continues, making you laugh, too as the atmosphere lightens.

“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s me.”

Surprisingly, that seemed to do it, because the tension in Jaemin’s shoulders falls as he lets out a light sigh and finally finds his words for what seemed to be the first time that night. “I used to not care. If they wanted to label me as a fuckboy, that was fine. Truthfully, if I was getting my dick wet, I was good-” He cuts himself off at the sound of a slightly louder exhale than normal from you, and he whips his head your way with a pout. “Don’t laugh, I’m being vulnerable.”

You stare back at him with a fond smile on your face and raised brows. “I’m not laughing,” you assure, and Jaemin turns to face his knees again as he accepts your denial of the claim without a fight. Then he starts back up with his explanation, his tone heavy and contemplative.

“Lately though, I’ve just been thinking I want so much more out of life. But, I spent so long under the fuckboy label I didn’t know if I would ever be able to break free from it, if I could ever be more.”

Your gaze on him softens but your eyebrows furrow; there was something so weird about knowing he’s never viewed himself in the way you do. “Na Jaemin, you’ve always been more,” you respond firmly. The lightest of exhales escapes as laughter from Jaemin, and he lets a weak smile play at his lips before responding. 

“And you’ve always felt like home…” He says, matching your tone as he finally turns to look at you again. “That’s another thing I wasn’t lying about that day.” 

You immediately dodge eye contact, knowing it’d reveal to him in milliseconds your real emotions towards all of this…towards him. Probably against your better judgement as well, you lean into him at your side, resting your head against his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’ve had a nice three months with you,” you say, your own weak grin making an appearance.

“Yeah,” he agrees, wrapping his arm around you casually. “It hasn’t been too bad, has it?”

There it was, the reason you needed to snap out of it, because for Jaemin, it just wasn’t ‘too bad,’ and meanwhile you’ve been over the moon these past three months. You’d come to your senses eventually - remember that ‘breaking up’ was the plan all along, that the last thing Jaemin wanted was to be in an actual relationship, and that you were going to have to be as okay with that as ever. However, for now, you figured you’d just lean into him a bit more while you still can. 

The next day saw all eight of you at Chenle’s place, helping him decorate and prepare for the big party, and then it was New Year’s Eve. Only you and Jaemin knew that it was your last night together before the ‘break up;’ and neither of you knew that the other didn’t want it to ever end, meaning when you placed Jaemin’s hoodie in his backseat as a way to return it before the party, you didn’t know the idea of giving it back nauseated him possibly more than it did you. As such, the air was tense and awkward between the two of you, trying to keep hidden how devastated you knew you were going to be at the end of the night, and too dumb to realize the best thing you could do is talk about it. 

Hand-in-hand with Jaemin, the two of you join the rest of your friend group, already standing around in a circle somewhere on the outskirts of the set up dance floor. They greet the two of you with bright smiles, none of them plagued with the knowledge that their favorite relationship was ending tonight. However, with the eight of you chatting about anything imaginable, the night became incredibly casual, despite the overwhelming amount of people flooding in around you all.

Eventually, the group divides up, deciding a range of different activities sounded best for the time being. You ended up with Chenle and Jisung, the three of you indulging in the indoor s’mores kit that was set up. Jaemin never moved from where the big group of you originally were. Instead, he let the crowd all pass around him as he stayed focused on you, gaze aimed in your direction with a fond smile as he watched you interact with his friends.

The only thing to break him from his staring is when Mark taps him on the shoulder and hands him a cup of water. “Man, I hope you know you’ve turned into a completely different person,” he says as he does so, making Jaemin furrow his brows in question; though Mark shakes his head as though it were no big thing. “You got this glow about you that scares me, and the look in your eyes when you’re staring at her…I didn’t think I’d ever see that from you - you know, being so against relationships and everything,” he ends with a light laugh.

Jaemin drops his head, his own laugh escaping his lips. “It’s just what happens when you’ve found your person, I guess,” he replies seriously. “I mean, to me?” He begins, finally looking up at Mark in sincerity before throwing his gaze your way. “For her?” He shakes his head, his smile turning into a dumb grin on his face as he finally admits to what’s been on his mind for three months. “Everything’s worth it. All the risk, all the effort, I’d do anything for her.” He looks your way once more before his gaze turns distant and he lets a grimace slip across his features. “It just took being with her to make me realize…I want to believe in love,” he finally says, meeting Mark’s eyes once again. 

Mark’s smile was painted widely across his face, though he stared at his best friend in something like disbelief. “Want to believe it? Jaemin, you’re in it,” he says firmly, and Jaemin immediately lets his gaze fall to his feet as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“It’s less scary than I thought it’d be,” he finally says, and Mark’s smile turns fond as he gets a glimpse at how his best friend operates. He puts on his best voice of comfort as he replies.

“You said it yourself, it’s what happens when you’ve found your person. You should tell her,” he says, tossing his head in your direction casually, but Jaemin’s muscles tense up.

“No, I can’t,” he says in a rush, and Mark lets out a laugh.

“From the one who says he isn’t scared,” he teases, but Jaemin shakes his head - it wasn’t that.

“I- it’s a weird situation,” he says, letting out a huff with his bad explanation. “I can’t tell her. Not tonight, anyways…she won’t want to hear that from me,” he concludes, dragging off miserably. Mark’s face completely flips as he stares at Jaemin quizzically. 

“But- she looks at you the same way, you know?” He says surely, but Jaemin shakes his head again.

“No, that’s just how she looks at me. Even when we were in high school.” He takes a moment to pause, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips before continuing with conviction. “No, she doesn’t love me. Not like this,” he says, and then he’s walking away, leaving a very confused Mark standing there with parted lips.

“...I thought she’s liked you since high school,” he says under his breath now that he knew there was no way Jaemin would hear anyways. He looks between you and Jaemin before shaking his head - the last thing he needed on New Year’s Eve was to engage in overthinking.

You had just broken away from where you were talking with Chenle and Jisung to instead make your way over to the punch table. Grabbing yourself a glass, when arms wrap around you in a hug from behind, you know the only person it could be. “Hey, handsome,” you say with a smile, turning your head to the side to try and lay eyes on him.

“Hi, angel,” Jaemin replies, taking the opportunity to place a small kiss on your cheek before continuing. “Are we kissing at midnight or are we ending things before then? I’m not sure if you want to start the new year with me or not.” His tone borders on defeat, and you turn around in his arms to stare at him with raised eyebrows and a playful smirk.

“I’ll be your new year's kiss if you’ll be mine,” you reply, and Jaemin lets out a small chuckle. “Besides,” you continue more seriously. “Ending this doesn’t mean you aren’t still my best friend. You’ll be a part of my new year no matter what. We can kiss and just pretend that was our way to say ‘bye’ to dating, cause you know, I guess it will be.” For a moment that you always knew was coming, admitting its near occurrence now felt like you just had the wind knocked out of you. Jaemin just stares down at you with a wide grin, nodding his head along to your words in approval. 

“Alright best friend, then I’ll make sure to find you again before midnight,” he replies, the entire thing making you swallow awkwardly as you nod your head back at him slightly.

“Yeah…” You respond in something like a whisper, and with one light kiss on your forehead, Jaemin vanishes again into the crowd. 

The rest of the New Years party was a blast, no doubt, but the knowledge of what was coming, or more so ending, plagued your thoughts and eventually you just needed to slip away from the rest of the noise. You ended up on the balcony attached to some random bedroom, the cool air something of a relief for your current state.

The only pull back into reality was when the ever-present loudness turned into synchronized cheers, and you catch as the entire party starts counting down from fifteen seconds. You whip around to start on your rushed journey back inside, realizing you never told Jaemin where you would be; but as you turn, you make eye contact with him, just stepping onto the balcony himself, an easy smile crossing his features. “No need to rush. I told you I’d find you before midnight,” he says with a light laugh, and you drop your head with a small exhale as your own form of laughter. “Ready to say ‘bye’ to all this pretending?” He asks, stepping up to where he was directly in front of you.

No. “Yep,” you respond with the best fake smile you could. You already made it this far with no problems, you refused to let it slip that your heart was fully in this right when it was about to end. 

Jaemin matched your smile, and as the crowd’s counting reached the ‘3, 2, 1,’ his hand came up to find its favorite spot at your cheek again. Then he leaned in and kissed you right as the party erupted with cheers of ‘Happy New Year.’ 

Your hands gripped tightly at his shirt, keeping you steady and keeping him close to you; though he wasn’t necessarily going anywhere with one hand cupping your cheek and the other placed firmly on your waist. Unlike any of your other kisses, this one…lingered. The two of you kept steady pace with each other, you gently sucking on his bottom lip and figuring for as long as he’d let this go on, you would take it for all it was worth, trying to pretend you could ever kiss him enough for a lifetime. 

When you think he’s breaking away, you’re instead met with the feeling of his tongue running across your top lip, asking for permission - permission all too easily granted by you as you open your mouth to let him explore. Your New Year's kiss turned into a greedy make out session, which was probably the last thing you were expecting, but you couldn’t take the time to question it because you were too busy drowning in his taste. You loved the taste of Jaemin on your tongue, and his own soft moan - which he tried so desperately to cover up but that you still very much heard, let you know he was currently feeling the same way; and you’d mark that down as a tiny win in the midst of the huge loss you were about to incur. 

Against your better judgement, you finally break away when you truly couldn’t breathe anymore, and Jaemin rests his forehead against yours. The air was just filled with the sound of panting as the two of you tried to catch your breaths. You swallow awkwardly once you do, taking a small step back as you process what just happened, Jaemin’s hand running down your body until you were no longer in reach. “You’re awfully good at ‘goodbye,’” you say in between breaths.

Jaemin immediately dodges your gaze, facing somewhere off to the side as his adam's apple bobs up and down. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he responds quietly, to the point where you were practically just reading his lips, and then he’s gone, leaving you alone on the balcony to deal with your flooding emotions on your own…not that you could do so in his presence anyways. 

You hated that it hurt this much - that a goodbye you knew was coming still seemed to blindside you. You had allowed your heart to indulge in his every romantic gesture, and while on the surface you knew they meant nothing, you held onto hope in some deep dark corner of your heart that maybe it wasn’t all just pretend; and yet here you were, grouped in with the vast category of girls he’s said ‘goodbye’ to in the way he knew all too well. You were his best friend but you were no one special, and you didn’t expect the resurgence of a fact that you already knew to affect you as much as it did - to make it feel as though you had been hollowed out, bones chilled from the empty space your soul used to occupy. 

You and Jaemin weren’t in contact the entire first day of the new year, though you couldn’t complain because talking to him right away was not something you figured your heart could handle. Instead, you went to work out at the gym and run errands and all those other things people do when they’re single and making a point to say they’re okay with that. To be fair, it kind of worked. Not that you were okay with whatever you and Jaemin had gotten yourselves into coming to an end, but that day of productivity and endorphin-inducing activity helped you ground yourself - these past three months were you helping out your best friend, that was all it was ever supposed to be. 

The next day was far less productive, but you were still functioning like normal. The only disruption from your typical daily routine came with a phone call from Haechan. As soon as you pick up, he starts speaking.

“Why did you go and break Jaemin’s heart all of the sudden?” He asks angrily.

You furrow your brows, though it wasn’t like he could see it anyways. “What do you mean? The breakup was mutual,” you counter in confusion, and Haechan lets out an actual ‘HA’ in disbelief before he replies with animosity.

“I need to know what the hell your definition of ‘mutual’ is because Jaemin hasn’t stopped crying for the past twenty-four hours.” 

You think he’s kidding, like this is one last stupid test of whether your relationship ever added up - but you shake the idea away, he already got the money, it was a week past three months, there wasn’t anything for you to mess up now, the story you’ve been telling would work as it always had. “Crying? What? We both agreed we worked better as friends,” you reply instantly, confusion adequately painting your voice. 

Haechan cannot believe his ears, and he makes sure to let you know so. For as much as you were confused, he didn’t understand why you were acting this way, ten fold. “No, I don’t believe you at all now. He wouldn’t agree on that. I don’t know how Jaemin talked to you, but he talked about you as though he’s never held anyone’s hand before until he held yours. Y/n, it was like you were the one to put every star in his night sky, I swear there’s no way this breakup was mutual.” Your whole world stops and you go speechless on the other end. Haechan was being dead serious, or else he wouldn’t be angry, he wouldn’t be pushing the subject. His words turn over and over again in your head. Jaemin talked about you, evidently when you weren’t around. You were fake-dating and yet Jaemin went out of his way to speak of you fondly to his friends. Jaemin, who never saw the point of getting romantically attached like that, doing more than what was needed in expressing his feelings about you. You push down the feeling of nausea and instead let out a deep sigh.

“I’ll be over in five minutes,” you say quietly, and then you hang up the phone before ever getting a reply from Haechan.

You race over to their apartment, and before you could even knock, Haechan is swinging the door open for you. The two of you make eye contact and about a million emotions pass between you, but it was easiest to pick up on the uncertainty. Haechan opens his mouth as if he’s about to bombard you with questions, or maybe yell at you again…you weren’t sure, but instead he just lets out a breath, nodding his head back in the direction of Jaemin’s room with a soft, “in there.” 

You throw a thankful smile his way, not that you were necessarily guessing at where Jaemin could be, but you were very grateful he was letting you off so easily. Even by looking at Haechan, you could tell Jaemin had truly been crying for the past twenty-four hours…Haechan looked exhausted. 

You lightly tap on the door of Jaemin’s room before entering, breath hitching as you lay eyes on his figure, curled up in a ball and clad in his favorite hoodie that you had given back - the hoodie he now knew you had lived in for the past few weeks because he already caught your own scent on it. Tears raced down his face, and he immediately turned away from you to hide them as he squeaked out choked words.

“Please go away,” he says, and reality hits you all at once. It wasn’t like you thought Haechan was lying, but now you truly had to face the fact that you were the cause of Jaemin’s tears; he wanted you to go away. 

“Jaemin, I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly, shaking your head to emphasize the point. Though, as you do so, your gaze catches onto a gift bag on his dresser, a label with your name written on it in his stupid perfect handwriting. 

You walk up to it, swallowing hesitantly as you turn your attention from the bag to Jaemin and back again. “What is this?” You finally ask. Jaemin shoots his gaze your way, not having previously realized what had caught your intrigue.

“Please don’t-” He rushes to say, but in the pause, you had already pulled out a diamond necklace, holding it gently between your shaking hands. You shake your head, eyes wide and jaw dropped as you’re unable to form a coherent thought. You turn back around to face him, your gaze darting every which way because you’re not sure you can confidently hold eye contact with him.

“Jaemin, what-? Why is this in a gift bag labeled for me-? When did you-?”

He cuts you off, visibly annoyed. “It’s what I used the bet money on. Now please go away,” he demands more firmly, but you wouldn’t be able to follow through on it even if you wanted to, because as you process his words, you lose the ability to move. 

“You spent the $600 on this?” You ask in disbelief, turning your attention fully towards him to try and find any cue that he was lying. “On me?” 

Jaemin turns his head to the side, and you watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down with an awkward swallow. When he finally answers, his voice has lost its tension, his words instead coming out as though he were ashamed. “$700,” he corrects. “I didn’t want it to feel like I was just gifting you something from the guys.”

You think you’ve gone crazy, or maybe Jaemin has, but all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. “I-”

He quickly finds his fire again, apparently having had enough embarrassment for a lifetime in those few seconds. “Please leave,” he spits out. He dares look up to make eye contact with you before immediately regretting his decision and staring back down at his bed again, wiping more stray tears from his eyes as he fumbles out his next words. “You can take the necklace if you want but just- please leave.”

“Jaem-” You say softly before he can cut you off.

“What?!” He quips, though when he shoots his gaze back to you in irritation, he realizes you’re no longer standing at his dresser, but sitting at the edge of his bed with him. Your fingers barren of the necklace, you instead occupy one hand by placing it on top of his own.

“You could’ve told me you fell for me, too,” you say seriously, and Jaemin stops breathing for a moment as he looks up at you with wide teary eyes.

“Too?” He echoes weakly, and all you can do is give a tight smile, moving a hand up to wipe under his eyes as you try to hold back your own tears.

“I refuse to believe I played off my huge crush on you since high school that well.” You reply with a hoarse laugh.

Jaemin finally recovers his ability to breathe as he lets out a heavy exhale. “You like me?” He asks through tears, and you finally break, having to wipe your own stupid tears off your face before nodding at him with an embarrassed smile.

“I always have. Why do you think I made all those stupid rules to try and make sure we acted like a couple as little as possible?” A bittersweet laugh gets caught in your throat as you think back on it. “If I had to listen to you call me cute names all the time, I wouldn’t have survived knowing it was eventually going to end,” you continue seriously.

Jaemin’s finally able to let out a bashful smile and sorry laugh. “...I called you cute names all the time anyways.”

You nod your head with a fond smile. “I know.”

“I couldn’t help it,” he explains as more tears rush down his face, though this time, they’re at least sliding down next to an embarrassed grin. 

You look at him with playful raised eyebrows. “Just like how you couldn’t help it when you kissed me every time you saw me? Or looked over at me super fondly?”

Jaemin softens as his eyes trace over your figure, the distant look in his gaze letting you know his mind was rather preoccupied with reliving the past three months. “Exactly like that,” he says lowly, and you let out a breath, forcing your gaze away from Jaemin as you instead focus on the way your fingers were idly fidgeting with each other.

“God, Jaem. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized-” You speak apologetically but Jaemin cuts you off again.

“No, I should’ve communicated. Well…” He lets another soft laugh leave his system, the tears finally drying on his face as he works towards fully collecting himself. “I should’ve communicated when you knew I was serious.”

You smile at his words, shaking your head again as you relive every moment of the fake relationship. “I didn’t even know you had time to catch feelings for me,” you begin with something like wonder in your tone. “I mean- weren’t you still hooking up with-”

When Jaemin cuts you off this time, it’s with the most flustered of cheeks and the weakest of laughs. “Um, about that…the very first girl I hooked up with after we added that rule-” He shakes his head with a small smile as he corrects himself. “Well, I say that…she was also the last girl I hooked up with.” Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you process the information, but Jaemin doesn’t give you much time to do so before throwing in another wrench. “I uh- accidentally moaned your name.”

Your head whips in his direction, your wide eyes straining against your dropped jaw. “Jaemin! You did not!”

“Why would I make that up?!” He quips back with a hearty laugh. You move a hand over your gaping mouth, unsure at what exactly you were supposed to do with this news. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Oh my god, what did she do?” You ask, curiosity dripping from your voice. Jaemin bites on the inside of his cheek before giving in again with a light sigh.

“Well, we immediately stopped because we were both mortified, I think. She said something about how I obviously had to go figure some things out, to which I agreed, but for different reasons than she thought…” He drags off a bit but instead just shakes his head and goes in a different direction. “I practically begged her not to say anything about it, but she laughed and said I was crazy if I thought she was going to tell that story and humiliate herself,” he finishes with a small chuckle, and you just stare at him with no less shock than before.

“I can’t believe this,” you manage to get out playfully. 

Jaemin flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement before his eyes light up and he rushes through more words. “Oh! The best part is, a week or so later, she saw us holding hands in public and texted me saying that she’s rooting for us,” he recalls with a shiteating grin. 

“Stop!” You get out, the idea of it damn near killing you. Though, before you can end up dying of laughter with Jaemin, another piece of information fits itself into the puzzle and you come back to your senses in seriousness.

“Wait wait wait,” you begin, focusing your gaze fully on Jaemin again. “So, you’ve been celibate for like…three months now?” You ask in shock. Jaemin isn’t even the tiniest bit regretful as he responds with a shrug, his sincere gaze meeting your own.

“I only wanted you. Wasn’t going to waste mine or anyone else’s time pretending any different.”

Your gaze softens immediately as a fond smile plays against your features. “Jaem…” You aren’t necessarily sure where you were going from there, but Jaemin picks it up anyways with a small shake of his head; his own weak smile making an appearance again as he recounts those first few moments.

“You kissed me that first day and I assumed I was fucked,” he explains casually. “Everything felt like it changed, and not because it was affection but because it was you.” His cheeks puff out again with a bigger grin as he continues. “Then I had that slip up and I knew I was fucked. Couldn’t get you out of my head for even a moment. It was starting to drive me crazy how much I wanted to make you happy.”

His eyes meet yours again as he finishes, and you search them for answers you knew you would have to ask for. “A good crazy?” You question hesitantly, but Jaemin is quick to shut down any worries.

“The best,” he assures, moving his hands so that he could interlace them with yours. He moves his gaze from your physical contact back up to your face before continuing seriously. “I love you, y/n.” 

You swallow hard, trying to not let any more tears run down your face, albeit happy tears weren’t so bad. You squeeze his hands in yours as you nod your head. “I love you, too.”

“Can we date for real?” He immediately asks, his wide pleading eyes making you chuckle.

“It’s been ‘for real’ for a while now,” you say warmly, but Jaemin shakes his head, not having it. 

“Yeah, but we’re currently broken up if you don’t remember. The entire reason you’re over here is because I couldn’t stop bawling my eyes out…which was the worst feeling in the world, by the way,” he banters back with a weak laugh. You let a grimace cross your face before pulling it into a fond smile. 

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll never break up with you again,” you assure him softly. Jaemin doesn’t hide his wide smile as he shifts himself so he can easily lean in and kiss you softly, resting his forehead against your own as he pulls back to smile against your lips.

“I’m holding you to it, angel.”

[celestiamour]

MEOW MEOW MEOW SE-MI SMUT X F!READER PLL,ZZPLZLZZ IM ON MY KNEES PLZ

ft. se-mi x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ an examination of piercings turns into something more┊0.8k words

contains: smut!! dom se-mi & sub reader┊tongue piercing, receiving oral, one mention of needles, innocent reader, se-mi is older & called “unnie”

➤ author's note: glad to see the girls getting just as much love as the boys in my inbox

“did they hurt?” you asked, gently holding your friend’s face in your hands and admiring her like a newly discovered painting from the renaissance era. it was mesmerizing how the light shone off the metal, and you couldn’t stop staring, even going as far as to run your finger over the little star of her nose piercing in awe without thinking. it was so damn cute how fascinated you seemed to be by these decisions she made nearly a decade ago in her teenage years.

normally, se-mi wouldn’t have let anyone put their hands on her and would probably punch them if they went anywhere near her face. yet here she sat in her bed allowing herself to be adored by you. she wondered if this was how cats felt when being coddled by their owners, the spoiled white persian kinds you see in movies with diamond collars and more toys than what they know to do with. “no, it was just like a pinch.”

“i couldn’t imagine that— having a needle pierce my skin, i mean,” you shivered. “my ears were pierced when i was a baby, but even then, they’re a little crooked because i wouldn’t stop crying.”

she giggled at the thought of it. “it’s not the needle that’s painful, it’s the healing process. the days after i got my tongue pierced were the worst, i couldn’t eat for days.”

“you have a tongue piercing?”

humming to confirm, she cheekily stuck out her tongue to show off the metal pierced through the muscle, even flexing it to flaunt the jewelry. it was extremely amusing to see how flustered you were becoming even though you tried not to show it.

“why did you get it pierced when it’s not even visible all the time?”

“cause it feels good for…”

“feels good for what?” you asked innocently, tilting your head in a way that made her want to eat you alive.

“well… it’s kinda hard to explain, but i could show you if you like…”

you didn’t have the foggiest idea what she was talking about at first until you found yourself flipped on your back with your shorts dragged to your ankles along with your panties and her head in between your shaking thighs, sliding her hot tongue between your folds and savoring the taste collecting on her palette. this wasn’t something best friends did, but you made no attempt to push her away and allowed her to do as she pleased.

“s-se-mi unnie…” you whined out, fingers finding and tangling with her dark locks yet also doing the contradictory action of wiggling your hips away. you’ve never felt this way before, knots twisting in your stomach and fire spreading under your skin as you try to wiggle away from the foreign sensation that felt too good to be real.

“ah, ah, ah, don’t run from me, you taste so fucking sweet.” her grip on your legs tightened as she pulled you closer to her, swirling the cold pierced metal across your throbbing clit and enjoying your moans like music. “i wish we had done this sooner, don’t you? god, i don’t think i could ever get enough now that i’m here.”

you couldn’t even verbalize a proper answer with nothing but pathetic whimpers falling from your mouth, eyes flickering between her and the ceiling as they rolled back with tears threatening to drip down the waterline. did things like this always feel so good, or was se-mi simply an expert who knew your body better than you did yourself with age and experience? silly little questions you would ponder if you weren’t getting your brains fucked out by just her tongue, making her wonder in return how you would handle taking her strap when you were already going crazy like this. (you have no idea how long she’s been fantasizing about having you like this, sitting in this very bed thinking about your soft skin and lips against hers with her hand crammed in her pants.)

“fucckk, ‘m gonna- ngh!!” god, you didn’t know the word to match your oncoming orgasm, you just knew a peak was about to be reached thanks to her talented tongue.

“you’re gonna cum baby,” she chuckled. “don’t be scared, just let yourself go for me.”

suddenly her plush lips wrapped around your delicate pearl and sucked hard, and like activating a button, you cried out in pleasure and unraveled all over her face, back arched and hands tugging on her hair. she gladly licked up the messy remnants with a smirk, proud to have made you climax in less than five minutes.

“you did soooo good for me baby,” she drawled and pressed a few sloppy kisses on your twitching cunt as a reward, “think you can give me one more?”

[laswells-ashtray]

What if Sergeant Price was originally a weapon before he met Mac and Kate? I feel like it’d be a lot similar to how Price met Nik: a violent man turned informant.

I also think he reverts back to his old self sometimes, most likely in high stress situations or if someone crosses a boundary.

Anyhow, this is just food for thought. Love ya pooks!👋🏻

Firstly, being called pooks made my day. Love that. Secondly, for that reason, I shall be answering this before I close my puter and make shortbread. After getting to the end of writing this little tidbit I gotta say, one of the best asks I've ever received. It came to me like I was spitting the prophecy, it was such an easy write.

Ghost notices, he picks up on John's posture and demeanour when their mission gets fucked. Their intel was off and Ghost won't be surprised if they leave with a fatality amongst the group. But he sees John go from Captain who they were joking over comms with to John fucking Wick in a matter of seconds. They're violent people, the job calls for it but John is lethal. He pulls a man off of Gaz and snaps his neck when the cunt won't stop struggling, he doesn't blink when they look at him wide-eyed. He just moves on and plunges a knife into someone else.

Ghost watches him take a punch before he shoves a man's open mouth over the edge of a table and slams his boot into the back of his head, they all hear the crack of his jaw and Soap puts a bullet between the poor sod's eyes to put him out of his misery.

The way John moves is instinctual, it's like he's stuck in fight or flight only John has never been one to flee. Someone tries to attack him from behind with a crowbar while he's prying open a door and John beats the man with it until one of his eyes starts to gouge out of the socket. He's covered in blood, known of it his own and he doesn't seem to be aware of it. Or entirely present and that's what sets them all on edge, he's relying on some kind of instinct or past training.

And then suddenly it's over, the bodies stop coming and they're back at exfil waiting for Nik to arrive. The Russian isn't supposed to be there, no one comments on it. They'd all rather it be Nik than some wanker that none of them know as the adrenaline stops thrumming in their veins. John responds to Laswell over comms but he's detached, they can all see it and from the worry in Kate's tone, she can hear it.

When Nikolai, the glorious bastard, arrives with his precious heli he doesn't tell them to jump in like he'd usually do. He takes one look at John before getting out and approaching him like one approaches a stray cat. He doesn't wrap an arm around the captain like he usually would, and no friendly greetings with some muttered Russian pet name tacked on at the end. He makes a point of standing an arm's length in front of the captain, easy to step back out of reach if he needs to do so quickly.

"John?"

John stares right through him, eyes blank and scarily lifeless as looks at Nikolai. Simon nods off the sergeants and watches them park their arses in the heli, not without sending their captain varying looks of worry. Nikolai offers him a thankful look over John's shoulder and Simon offers him a nod but stays put.

It's John, he knows John and he trusts John with his life but the same man he trusts with his life is currently drenched in blood and seemingly unaware of where he is. He isn't leaving Nikolai to handle him alone even if he knows the Russian is as strong as he is.

"Captain, do you want Kate to call MacMillan?"

Simon narrows his eyes at the pilot, watching him curiously. He knows who John's old captain is, he's met the man before. Wicked funny and sharp as a knife.

The name seems to trigger something in John, he tilts his head looking at Nik with far more clarity than he'd had a moment ago.

"Wha- No, 'm fine."

Even John sounds unsure but there's a familiarity on his face as he looks at Nikolai that hadn't been present before. Nikolai looks relieved, his shoulders falling as some of the tension leaves him.

"You should call him later."

It isn't a suggestion, it's an instruction. One John doesn't seem to argue with as he glances down at himself, taking in his current state.

Nikolai glances at him over John's shoulder and Simon takes the hint to drag his arse back to the heli. They need a second, one he isn't supposed to be present for. He doesn't judge as he silently slips away, ignoring how John all but falls against the Russian's front.

[lucabyte]

How do you get your siffrins to look adult? I keep accidentally giving them a baby face but I WANT THEM TO LOOK GROWN AND EXHAUSTED LIKE HE DESERVES

okay so i legit think i fail at making siffrin look adequately adult like half the time but here's a general breakdown of my like. thought process when im actually um. thinking .

So first of all heres my general tips for proportioning a face, and how i attempt to keep the roundness of sif's in-game proportions while also like... drawing them more realistically? i had to practically reinvent a Human Style for drawing isat fanart since im a furry artist so a lot of this is fresh in my mind, luckily(?) for you i suppose.

This newness also means you can like, watch me fight and struggle against how the hell to do this in my earlier fanart. so feel free to try and see what changed as i pieced it together.

Another note is body proportion. You note giving him a baby face specifically, but some of it MIGHT be that you're drawing the head too big for your style? Try and figure out how many "heads tall" your figures are and tweak the numbers until you find what looks "adult"

Here I cracked open one of the comics I used CSP Model refrences for (albeit feat Loop, who i envision to be the exact same height as siffrin. i am NOT a tall loop truther i think its funnier when that bitch is five foot NOTHING!!!!!)

drawing sif with adult proportions can be deceptively difficult though on account of their Being A Tiny Motherfucker. Mostly here though, I find that the best way to do this is to drop like 1/3rd of the length of an average drawing figure's legs. Short people tend to have short legs. I know this on account of a lot of my ocs being 5'3" and below (... for... reasons...... unrelated to my own... height.... 100%.... ) so once again I think a lot of this can come down to trying to fiddle with numbers and noting down what works.

OKAY NOW ONTO SOME MORE SIFFRIN-SPECIFIC DRAWING TIPS. like these are what i find myself doing to make them look older if i accidentally baby face them myself

The above kind of chibi-er doodle style im still not sure has Siffrin looking adult enough for my liking (someone who considers them minimum 28) but considering they're presumably genuinely a deceptively baby faced guy at least by game's start (even if they should probably look. unhealthy.) it's like... forgivable.

the bald spot is basically fucking cheating in terms of "making them look older" lbr but i am so fucking insistent on it and i punch the air in celebration every time i see anyone else do it. winner is ME!!!!

Anyway. the body hair thing is funny considering we basically have Word Of God that siffrin is not the kind of person who ever likes being naked/even having their feet out in a casual setting. but like. hi its me the weird fucked up miserable nudity guy. of course im drawing every pockmark and texture on their body.

Another note here is, on their naked form, I avoid overly smooth lines for outlines of the limbs and torso. This avoids making them look "sexy twink thin" (not my bag at all) and instead gives the impression of loose skin from fluctuating weight, uneven fat distribution, skin becoming baggier with age. I also let joints jut out and look sharp wherever I can. This is because im an asexual pervert who likes the human form the mostest when i can see 'imperfections' This adds to the haggard nature of it all, by being reasonably honest about what the kind of persistent decade-long neglect of self care and implied malnutrition would do to a guy

Last note: eyes. i find i end up drawing a vague glassy black smear with a hint of white for the sclera for siffrin like. a Lot. Eyebags to show weariness is not my preferred method as I find it, to be rude, a bit of an overused shorthand. Plus, while sif in game does get eyebags, they're usually more on pushed expressions where they're forcing their face. So I put more emphasis on drawing the folds of the upper lid (which the game does not do) to make them look weary.

I dont think i can elaborate on my opinions on How To Draw Eyes without it becoming a way the fuck too long essay because "drawing emotions good" is like. my number 1 goal in every drawing so even if everything else is scuffed to hell I HAVE TOOO get the eyes right because theyre the most emotive part of the face. if i cant capture an emotion correctly the drawing isnt getting fucking finished is the thing, so....

Luckily for me, drawing over eyes and continously tweaking them by painting over and over and over and redoing them can have the side effect of making them look over-detailed and thus worn/tired/agonised. yes this is why i draw loop's face so scrunched all the time. All I can say for this though is to do a lot of studies of both real life faces & the most emotive cartoon faces you personally have experienced. So like. steven universe is great for this because rebecca sugar is so scary at drawing eyes. theyre so fucking scary at it. or sometimes i just go stare at rebecca's old comics because jesus christ. anyway.

??? but yeah hope this helps. its something i feel like i have a genuine hard time with too, especially since im so intent on keeping their face round & my artstyle is genuinely very cutesy even when i am being weird soo ...?

tl;dr:

draw the eyes smaller, give them a chin, the canon nose helps a lot & dont forget the bald spot. everyone draw the bald spot. for me.

[catflowerqueen]

Been thinking about this more recently, and the idea that the reason the King started freezing things was specifically because they didn't want to pay Siffrin that money back, and I think I've figured out a more... concrete timeline and thematically appropriate motive (that is still extremely silly and nonsensical) for why the King would default to freezing things instead of just paying up.

It's because the King would be thinking he needed to/Siffrin would expect him to pay that back in their country's currency, and the King does not want to give up those last few pieces of his home.

His whole insane plan begins when he happens to see Siffrin from afar one day when the two of them happen to be in the same town, and he is suddenly struck by that one, singular memory of owing them money that managed to sneak through the memory filter thing. Siffrin turns toward him and starts moving in his direction and the King thinks it's because they spotted him and also remembers he owes them money, so he flees as fast as possible and then comes up with that insane plan so he never has to cough up the coins--and then helps justify it more to himself in that it would also "save" Vaugarde.

Siffrin, it should be noted, did not actually see the King in that town--or at least no more than a passing glance at the crowd. His moving toward him was a complete coincidence. So if the King hadn't jumped the gun like that, he very well could have just kept those coins guilt-free forever, with Siffrin being none the wiser and none of the time freezing and reality altering shenanigans taking place.

But they did take place... and at that first confrontation with the King, after Siffrin probably punches him in the face for being such a jerk the King just gives a resigned sigh, coughs up the coins, and then lifts the curse of his own volition "because there's no point keeping it up now that my plan failed."

He makes to just walk away, Siffrin is so stunned by this turn of events that they accidentally lets slip about the time looping via asking "Did you never think of just repaying me the equivalent amount in Vaugardian currency? Surely you must have some? Even I have some, despite all my possessions getting reset each time the timeloop restarts!"

Surprisingly enough, the King had, in fact, considered it... before dismissing it because no one would be able to figure out the exchange rate, and the King might be able to live with himself while committing acts of thievery by never giving the money back, and cursing an entire country to be frozen in time... but he refuses to be a cheat, let alone to one of his fellow countrymen who had to have been suffering just as much as he has.

Siffrin may or may not feel swayed by pity enough at this point to just throw one of the Island coins at him as he leaves.

Discussions about the timeloop and wishes would then occur, incidentally leading to Siffrin breaking free of them when he ends up figuring out what he actually wished for, but in such a manner that leaves him still thinking it was due to "beating" the King.

...Loop seriously considers mugging the guy for the Island coin, if Siffrin gave one back to the King, before backing down under the consideration that the King might go crazy and do something worse than freezing things if that coin goes missing.

They would then demand Siffrin give them one of the remaining coins "for services rendered."

ISAT au where Siffrin and the King did know each other back in their home country, but in that sort of "casual acquaintances/friend of a friend" way. Sometimes they met up and played, like, poker or something together.

And the King still owes Siffrin $20 bucks from their last game.

And this knowledge is the only thing that remained unscathed from the memory shenanigans. Except only in the most vague of ways.

Vague as in--the instant Siffrin sees him, they're filled with an all-consuming rage and the feeling that this guy "owes him something" and just immediately punches him in the face before anyone can get a word out.

("Do I remember? Do I remember?!

Do you remember how you still owe me money, you jerk?!")

...Alternatively, combine this with my "Siffrin becomes a hairdresser" au, and the reason they knew the King before is because they helped trim his hair once. And that's why they owe him money.

Because then it just means that the King would owe Siffrin even more money when they meet again at the top of the House since Siffrin literally cut his hair for him again not even an hour ago.

[look-me]

“𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺”

abby anderson x masc!reader

pt 3

all the chapters in my masterlist

TW: weed, sex, idk what else

Please don’t mind any grammar mistakes, and please keep in mind that English isn’t my native language. P.S. I’ve never written smut before. Also, I probably won’t correct any mistakes because I’m too lazy to do so.

When the car finally pulls up in front of Abby’s house, You don’t even bother to look at her as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door, stepping out into the cold night air.

Abby follows you, her presence like a weight behind you, but you don’t turn around. Not yet. You just keep walking toward the front door.

Inside, the house is quiet, too quiet. The faint glow of the kitchen light filters through the dark hallway, casting long shadows on the floor. Abby shuts the door behind you, the sound of it slamming echoing in the otherwise still house.

You glance back at her, your voice low, barely containing your fury. “What the hell is wrong with you, Abby?”

Her eyes narrow at you, the blue in her gaze like ice, hard and cold. “You think I’m the one with a problem?” she spits, her voice sharp as a blade. “You’re the one who started all this bullshit, playing games, running away from me. You kissed me, Y/N, and then you act like I’m the one who’s crazy?”

“Are you seriously blaming me for this?” You throw your hands up in exasperation, stepping closer to her. “You’re the one who can’t make up your damn mind, Abby. You act like you don’t care, like I’m just another person to fuck around with, and then you have the nerve to get mad when I try to protect myself from getting hurt!”

Abby’s nostrils flare as she steps toward you, her breath coming out in short bursts. “Don’t you dare act like you’re some victim in this,”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You recoil, but the anger inside you flares even brighter. “You think you can just tell me what to do, who I can see? Because I’m not yours Abby”

Abby takes a step forward, her chest nearly touching yours now. “You want to keep acting like you don’t care? Like none of this means anything to you? Fine.“

A sharp, tense silence fills the space between you, your breaths coming in quick, uneven gasps. For a moment, neither of you moves, and then, as if an invisible line has been crossed, Abby suddenly shoves you back. You stumble, but catch yourself just before hitting the wall.

“You don’t get to walk away from me, Y/N,” she growls, her voice low and venomous.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you snap, your eyes burning with anger. “You don’t get to treat me like I’m some kind of toy you can play with whenever it suits you. If you don’t want to be with me, then stop pretending like you do. Make up your damn mind.”

The words seem to hang in the air between you, suffocating everything around them. Abby stands there, her chest heaving with anger, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, her phone buzzes loudly on the bedside table across the room.

You both freeze, the buzzing a jarring interruption to the intensity that’s thick in the air. Abby glances at it, then at you, clearly annoyed by the distraction but still unwilling to move.

The phone buzzes again, louder this time, demanding attention.

With a sigh, Abby finally walks over to the bedside table, her movements stiff. She picks up her phone, and when she sees the name flashing on the screen, her expression falters for just a moment. Riley.

A smirk spreads across your face as you catch a glimpse of the name. The shift in Abby’s demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by you. It’s subtle, but it’s there. A crack in the armor she’s worked so hard to maintain.

Abby’s gaze flickers to you, her eyes narrowing slightly, though she tries to hide it behind a mask of indifference. “What?” she asks, her voice tight, trying to maintain control. But you can see the flicker of annoyance in her eyes, a brief crack in her usually unshakable facade.

You step closer, your voice dripping with playful challenge. “You don’t want her to know that I’m here, do you?”

Abby stiffens, her jaw tightening, but she doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she turns the phone over in her hand, her fingers brushing the screen, but she doesn’t pick up the call.

“It’s nothing,” she mutters, though her voice is strained, as if trying to convince herself more than you.

“Then answer the phone, Abigail,” you say, crossing your arms, a challenging smile tugging at your lips. The playfulness in your voice only adds fuel to the fire of the argument that’s already been burning between you.

Abby’s gaze flickers to you once more, her lips pressing into a thin line. The room is thick with tension as she stares at the phone, her grip tightening.

“No,” she finally says, her voice clipped. “It’s nothing. Just some bullshit I don’t need to deal with right now.”

But you can see through her. You can see the doubt in her eyes, the uncertainty creeping in. Abby isn’t used to feeling vulnerable, and right now, she’s doing everything she can to hide it.

Without waiting for her to say anything else, you walk toward her, closing the distance between you. “Maybe it’s time you stop pretending, Abby. You can’t just shut people out when it gets hard. You can’t keep pretending everything’s fine while you’re stuck in this stupid game you’re playing.”

Abby looks at you, her expression hardening once again. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I know more than you think,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. “You’re scared, Abby. And I’m tired of being dragged into your mess.”

The air between you is heavy with unspoken words, with the rawness of your emotions crashing against each other. But neither of you speaks. Instead, there’s just a tense, lingering silence, both of you trapped in your own stubbornness.

Then, with a final glance at her phone, Abby walks past you, her back stiff, and heads toward the door. “I’m done with this,” she says, her voice low as she steps out of the room, you're left standing there, feeling the weight of everything that's been left unsaid. The silence presses down on you like a heavy weight, and you're seething, trying to figure out how to process everything that's just happened.

Then you hear it-the unmistakable sound of water running from the bathroom.

She's really doing this? You're still standing here, frustrated and pissed off, and she's in there taking a shower like you're not even in her house.

"Are you fucking taking a shower while we're arguing and you leave me here?" you shout, unable to keep the anger out of your voice.

There's no response.

Just the sound of water splashing against tiles. You feel your frustration building, but Abby clearly isn't interested in engaging right now. You pace the room, your fists clenched, as you try to hold on to the irritation that's growing inside of you. A few minutes later, the water shuts off, and you hear the soft sound of the bathroom door opening.

Then, she appears.

Abby steps into the room, wearing only a towel wrapped loosely around her waist, her skin glistening with the warmth of the shower. You freeze for a second, taken aback by how effortless and stunning she looks. The towel barely covers her, and your eyes automatically drift to her bare shoulders, the curve of her hips, the way the fabric clings just enough to leave nothing to the imagination.

And then, you notice something new. Her hair. For the first time, Abby's hair is down, falling in wet waves around her face. She looks different, more carefree, and it hits you harder than you expected.

You've always loved her hair down-there's something incredibly intimate about it, like she's finally letting her guard down in front of you.

You swallow hard, your mouth dry. "Damn," you mutter, before catching yourself. "I didn't know you looked like this with your hair down."

Abby doesn't miss the way you're looking at her.

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest in a subtle challenge. "What, you didn't think I could pull it off?"

You shake your head, trying to stay focused. "I don't know what I thought. But right now, l'm more concerned with you leaving me alone in your house after a fight. Are you really just gonna ignore me like this?"

She stands there for a moment, her gaze flickering from your eyes to your body. Then, her expression softens, just a little. "It's late. You're not going anywhere. You can stay here for the night."

You're about to argue, but she cuts you off. "No, I'm not asking. You're staying. Don't make this harder than it needs to be”

You want to protest, but the look in her eyes silences you. Abby isn't giving you an option.

"You can't just make decisions for me," you snap, but she doesn't back down.

"I'm not," she says coolly. "I'm telling you. Now, go take a shower. I left some clean clothes on the bed."

You open your mouth to argue again, but she raises her hand, silencing you. "You've got two choices. Go shower or stand here in your dirty clothes. Up to you."

You huff in frustration, but you know there's no point in fighting her. You make your way to the bathroom, still simmering, but as you step inside and close the door behind you, you can't help but let out a frustrated breath.

After you've showered, you grab the clean clothes Abby left for you-just a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. As you dry off with the towel, you make your way to her bedroom to get dressed, hoping to get some space from the tension that's been hanging between you two all night.

But as you step into her bedroom, you freeze. The towel still around your waist, you feel two hands on your back, fingers sliding down your skin, sending a jolt of shock through you.

"Fuck, Abby, you scared me," you snap, spinning around, heart pounding in your chest.

Abby's standing there, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from her body, her own towel barely clinging to her figure. Her hair is still down, wet strands framing her face as she pulls you into her space. Before you can say anything else, she grabs your face gently with both hands, forcing you to look at her through the mirror.

"Not my fault, princess," she whispers, her voice low, playful, and intense. "You're in my bedroom, wearing only a towel. What makes you think I won't do something about it?"

Your pulse quickens, and you roll your eyes, trying to brush off the tension. "Stop it, I don't even like my body," you say, but the words feel hollow coming out of your mouth.

Abby's expression softens, and before you can say anything else, she grabs you by the shoulders, turning you to face her. She pins you to the bed with surprising strength. "Look at me," she demands, her voice almost a command.

You try to look away, but she holds you there, her fingers lightly brushing your chin to make sure you meet her eyes. "I said look at me," she repeats, her voice softer this time, full of something you can't quite place.

And then she says the words you didn't expect.

"You're gorgeous."

You don't know what to say, the words getting stuck in your throat as she leans in and kisses you softly on the lips. The kiss is slow, tender, as if she's trying to reassure you without saying a word.

Then, she moves down to your neck, her lips grazing your skin with a featherlight touch.

You shiver involuntarily, but Abby doesn't stop.

She trails soft kisses along your neck, sending waves of heat through your body. When she reaches your ear, she whispers, her breath warm against your skin.

"'ll make it up to you. I promise."

Her lips press against your cheek in a gentle kiss, lingering there for just a moment longer than expected. Then, she pulls back, her gaze intense as she steps away from the bed.

"Now get dressed," she says, a playful glint in her eyes. "I want to eat. I'll wait for you in the kitchen."

You step out of the bedroom, feeling the lingering weight of everything still hanging between you and Abby. You find her on the couch, dressed now in her usual loose flannel shirt and some pair of boxers, giving off that masculine aura that always seems to draw your attention. She’s scrolling through her phone, not paying you any mind. The room feels quieter now, the tension thick in the air as you stand there, unsure of how to proceed.

Without saying anything, you walk over to the couch and sit next to her. You feel your heart racing, but you can’t just keep pretending that everything’s fine anymore.

“I’m not really hungry,” you mutter softly, still not looking at her, your voice almost lost in the silence.

Abby glances at you briefly, then shrugs. “I’m not either, but I was going to cook if you were hungry.”

You nod absently, not knowing what to say next, your mind spinning with everything you’ve been holding in. Finally, the words start tumbling out, too fast to stop.

“Abby, you play with people. You have so many girls with you. You can literally call all of them to come over right now, and they’ll be here in the blink of an eye. I don’t want to be one of them.”

As you speak, your throat tightens, and before you can stop it, a tear slips down your cheek. You wipe it away quickly, hoping Abby didn’t notice, but you feel that familiar rush of vulnerability threatening to overwhelm you.

“I’m scared of ending up alone, Abby,” you say, your voice raw, but still trying to hold it together. You don’t want her to see you as weak, to see you as little. You don’t want her to pity you.

But the words are out now, hanging in the space between you two, and you can’t take them back. You try to turn away, but before you can, you feel her hand gently reach for your face, turning you toward her.

Abby’s touch is tender, surprisingly soft, as her thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away the tear you missed. Her hands hold your face gently, making sure you can’t look away. The seriousness in her eyes is undeniable, and for the first time, you see the raw emotion beneath her usually guarded expression.

“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice quiet, but firm. “Don’t hide from me.” She wipes away another tear, her touch almost like she’s trying to erase the hurt that’s been weighing on you for so long.

You refuse to look at her, still fighting to hold your composure, but Abby doesn’t let you pull away. “Look at me,” she says, her tone not demanding, just insistent. “Please.”

Finally, you meet her gaze, the vulnerability in your eyes clear. “I don’t want to be a part of your game. I don’t know how to be with you when I’m so scared of losing myself.”

Abby doesn’t speak at first, her hands still cupping your face as she looks at you intently. Then, with a sigh, she pulls you gently into her arms, holding you tightly against her chest, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go.

“I’m not playing with you,” she murmurs into your hair. “ I don’t want you to feel alone.”

You feel her breath against your skin, the warmth of her body comforting in a way that makes everything else seem to fade, even for just a moment. But the fear is still there, lurking in the back of your mind, and you can’t help but ask the question that’s been haunting you.

“Then why do you have so many other girls, Abby? What makes me different?”

Abby pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, her hand still resting on your cheek. The intensity in her gaze is undeniable, like she’s trying to pull the words from deep inside her.

“ I’m not going to treat you like anyone else. I don’t know how i will make you see that, but I’m going to prove it over and over, if I have to.”

You stay silent, your heart pounding, torn between the need to believe her and the instinct to protect yourself. Every inch of you wants to pull away, to shut it all out before you get hurt. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your breathing and you fall asleep in Abby’s arms, the steady rise and fall of her chest lulling you into a peaceful slumber. Abby, sensing you’re completely out, stays there with you for a while, letting you rest. The comfort of her presence eases the tension in your body, and she doesn’t want to disturb you.

But eventually, as time passes and she realizes you’re not going to wake up soon, Abby carefully shifts, gently moving you so she can get up. She stands and, without much effort, scoops you into her arms, cradling you like a bride. It’s an oddly tender gesture from someone so fierce, but the strength in her arms and the way she holds you makes you feel safe.

Abby walks to her bed, carefully settling you underneath the blankets. Once you’re comfortable, she pulls the covers up to your chin, tucking you in. She stays for a moment, watching over you as you sleep, but soon lies down next to you, her body still close, but not quite touching.

The warmth of her presence keeps you feeling grounded. You stir a little, eventually waking up, and the first thing you notice is the unfamiliar softness of the bed and the fact that you’re no longer on the couch. You blink, confused, and whisper, “How did I end up in your bed?”

Abby’s voice is calm, almost amused, when she answers, “You fell asleep, princess.”

You turn to her side, suddenly feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. Without thinking, you roll toward her and instinctively hug her, pressing your face into her pillow. “I’m sorry”

Abby doesn’t return the hug. She lies there, stiff and unreadable, her breathing steady but distant. The warmth you’d felt earlier is replaced by a wall you can’t quite get through. You pull back slightly, glancing up at her face, but her expression is calm, almost indifferent.

“Go to sleep, princess,” she says, her voice low and cold, with no trace of the softness from earlier.

The words cut through the air, leaving no room for argument. You nod silently, turning away and curling up under the blankets, feeling the weight of the space between you. Abby doesn’t move closer, and the silence stretches long into the night.

You close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come easily.

2 days later

The kitchen’s quiet, save for the scrape of Abby’s fork against her plate. She’s still in her workout gear, muscles tense like she just got back from beating the crap out of a punching bag. You’re leaning against the counter, watching her as you try to figure out how to say this.

“Ellie’s having a party tomorrow night,” you finally say, keeping your tone casual.

Abby doesn’t even look up. “So?”

“She invited me.”

“Good for her,” Abby mutters, still focused on her plate.

You cross your arms, leaning your weight on one leg. “I was thinking you could come with me.”

That gets her attention. Abby’s fork freezes midair before she sets it down with an exaggerated clink. Her eyes meet yours, and there’s that familiar edge in her gaze—calculated, sharp, and clearly annoyed. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

Abby leans back in her chair, arms folding across her chest as she stares at you. “You seriously want me to go to some party organized by the girl who’s been trying to get under my skin since day one?”

“She’s not gonna do anything,” you reply, keeping your voice steady. “It’s just a party.”

Abby laughs—a short, humorless sound. “Yeah, sure.”

“Abby.” Your tone is firm, but she doesn’t budge. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is. She invited me because we’re friends,” you say, keeping your voice calm but firm. “That’s it. You know where we stand.”

“Do I?” Abby’s eyes narrow, and there’s a heat in her voice now, the kind that warns you to tread carefully.

You meet her glare head-on. “Yeah. You do. Or you should, by now.”

The tension hangs heavy between you, neither of you backing down. Abby finally looks away, running a hand through her hair, her fingers tugging at the blonde strands in frustration. “I’m not going. End of story.”

You let out a slow breath, keeping your tone even. “Fine. Then I’ll go alone.”

Abby’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing. “What?”

“You heard me,” you say, crossing your arms. “If you’re not coming, I’ll just go by myself. No big deal.”

She stares at you like you just challenged her to a fight.

“I just thought you’d want to be there with me. But if you don’t, fine. Stay home.”

Abby glares at you for another long moment before she finally lets out a low, reluctant sigh. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Thank you,” you reply, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Just don’t start anything.”

Abby rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue further. She picks up her fork and stabs at her food, muttering something under her breath that you don’t quite catch.

You let her have the last word this time. You got what you wanted. For now.

[literallyangelshaw]

This took me almost a month and I actually fucking hate it but for those who wanted the Treasure turning fic, it's your lucky day!!

Tag List: @darlin-collins @brainrotcharacters @aimedis @therealbr1gh7ey3s @spuffyfit and I think that's all

Warnings: Physical Violence, Car Accident, Unconsensual Turning, Mentions of previous arguments, suicidal implications, depictions of dissociation, probably some mischaracterization, and I will admit my writing here feels a little lazy so I apologise, also I didn't proof read because I'm tired.

Happy New Years/New Years Eve!! Depending on Timezone

"I'm not the only coward in this room"

Those words burned into their tender heart as they reminisce just moments before now. Their mind flooding with every blink of their eyes, their fists clenching as they glared at the laundry pile Porter had earlier ridiculed. They glared for what felt like hours until they felt a moisture slide down their cheeks. They couldn't possibly be crying. Their ears rang as the tears fell, and their body moved on it's own. Shoving through the door and wandering aimlessly and thoughtlessly.

*What am I doing?* Their thoughts finally coherent, the dissociation finally worn off. The feelings finally broken through their barricade. They continue to wander, to make any desperate attempt at escaping their thoughts. Their *feelings*.

Hours had passed, though it felt like weeks to them. Aimlessly trudging through damp, dark forest terrains, recklessly thudding into trees, bruising their arms and sides.

Their clothing now dirtied, their eyes sunken and red from the endless streams of tears, their nose stuffed with the agony of the earlier argument, their legs weak from the abuse they had given themselves to escape the abuse of their mind.

"If you think for one second that what we have here isn’t both of us running away, then you need to turn that appraising gaze inward for a bit."

There they were again. Those words burning and bruising their being as they question, everything.

Were they just an escape to him?

Did he ever truly care for anything *but* his escape?

Why them?

Their vision blurred as the tears stung their cheeks again, now stumbling out of the forst and onto a sidewalk.

"Look at that person over there, they look a mess!" A drunken voice cackled from across the street, followed by a group of friends laughing. Their gaze fixed onto the ground as their agony and despair turned to anger and a rage that would soon be unbridled.

Before common sense could stop them, they lunged off of the sidewalk and into the traffic, avoiding doom narrowly as they approached the group.

Seconds later, the voice's face was full of Treasure's fist. They pounded and pounded, wailing as all the emotion they carried finally poured itself out.

The moments blurred together, their arms were taken by another member of the group, one that unfortunately, looked a lot like Porter. The hair, the build, they screamed Porter.

"LET ME GO" They scolded in protest, flailing their limbs before the leader finally threw their punch. The Porter-lookalike, let them go just before the hit was landed. The impact threw their limp, weak body into oncoming traffic a car hitting them mid-fall.

Blood. It was all they could feel, all they could hear, all they could see. Barely conscious, in the middle of the street Treasure attempts to sit up, failing miserably.

Just as miserably as they failed at helping the one they loved.

Their body numbed as their thoughts continued to belittle them before unconsciousness finally overtook them. Their blood flooding the street as the driver leapt out of the car with urgency, Lovely. They rushed to Treasure's side, panic overflowing their senses.

Treasure would never be able to come back from this. Their bones snapped like twigs scattered across a park, bleeding out to what could've been death.

Lovely frantically rested their fingers on Treasure's neck, checking their pulse. Listening for their breathing. It was shallow, quiet, tortured and agonized.

***They aren't going to survive this.***

Lovely's head rushed as what little composure they could've kept cracked under the pressure. The adrenaline taking the reigns on their body, they bit their wrist before feeding their blood to the pitiful, withered, unconscious Treasure. Picking up Treasure's wrist and beginning to sip.

Blood for blood.

A new 'life' over a death that Treasure yearned for.

A death Lovely had almost granted them.

*Timeskip*

Ears ringing, heart pounding, body numbing like a corpse. Hushed voices came from behind the door as Treasure's exhaustingly heavy eyelids lifted themselves to reveal their unfamiliar surroundings. Their mind became frantic while their body was all too exhausted and broken to do anything but look around with anxious eyes. Taking in the exquisitely decorated room around them, it ever so slightly resembled the room Porter took them to, the night of their first dalliance.

Where am I?

Is this some sort of afterlife?

*Am I finally free?*

Questions arose within their mind as the doorknob turned, the long creak of the door opening ringing in Treasure's ears as Lovely entered. Their hands trembling with a guilt only a Maker would know.

"Are you alright?" Lovely chirped out, still shaken up themselves. They approached Treasure's bedside, resting their gaze on the pathetic creature.

"Wh..Who are you?" They sighed out, mind still rushing with questions their body wasn't ready to articulate.

"Lovely, Lovely Solaire. I'm so sorry I..." They trailed off, guilt dripping from their voice, their silvery crimson eyes avoiding Treasure's as they clasped their hands in a purely pathetic attempt of self soothing. "You.. were in an accident, and you weren't going to make it"

"Weren't?" Treasure's hoarse cracked voice interjected, "I'm not.." realization began set in. Making itself comfortable and torturing Treasure's mind almost immediately.

Death hadn't claimed them.

*Solaire*, this person was a member of Porter's house.

*Why can't I ever escape him?*

Their breath hitched as their mind began to rush again

*An accident?*

Their exhales became shakier as their lips began to tremble as they looked over at Lovely. Taking note of their eyes and paled skin, before looking down at their own hands.

Paled, dry, *dead*.

"What have you done?"

Lovely exhaled, trembling "I'm so sorry, I..I panicked and I lost control, it was the only thing I could think to do, and I know I shouldn't have, and I am eternally in apologetic debt to you, I'm so sorry" They sputtered, and stumbled over their words, sincerity dripping from their apologies as Treasure blankly stared down at their hands. Their senses blurring as their breaths became quicker, the thoughts became louder.

***This had to be a nightmare, right? They were going to wake up any second, in Porter's arms. Right?***

"You're lying. You have to be." Treasure muttered, their mind refusing to accept their new pathetically purposeless, eternal, reality.

"I'm so sorry...I'm telling the truth, this is all real and I'm so incredibly sorry"

The lump in Treasure's throat grew denser as realization had completed its task in making Treasure's mind its playground.

A strong tensioned silence filled the room, as Treasure began hearing what was once unhearable.

"..What does this mean for me?" A strange, unnatural, chilling calm had settled over them, still staring at their hands.

"I don't..I don't know. There's this house-"

"The Solaire house"

"Yes, the, Solaire house..they aren't, *ideal* but you'll need stability after something like this"

"Yeah. I get it."

Timeskip!!

Days passed like hours, the turning transition was rough, but Porter's absence was rougher. They'd never admit it after what he'd said but, they missed him more than any part of their humanity.

"Hey..you okay?"

Lovely's voice snapped Treasure out of their spiral, dragging back to their absolute shitshow of a reality. No matter how helpful their maker tried to be.

"You got everything?"

Treasure nodded, zipping up their last bag, full of their laundry.

"Whatever your equivalent conundrum would be, like..I don't know..should you actually do your laundry tonight or just push the pile farther over on the bed?"

***"Again?"***

Treasure hugged their arms into their chest, sitting on the floor of their old home looking around at its emptiness.

"Lovely"

"Yes?"

"Will I matter here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've spent my whole life mattering the least, being told that, my problems are mere and trivial. Will that change here?"

"I can't promise that you'll be treated the way you should be, not by everyone in the house."

"So no."

"You didn't let me finish"

"And you didn't let me die."

"I..Treasure I'm sorry I-"

"Forget it. Please. Let's just get this over with."

Treasure's pained snarky response punctuated the conversation as they stood, picking up their bags and carrying them outside. The moon gleaming down on their paled skin as they released the bags from their hands.

"What now?"

"William has sent assistance to help you take your stuff to your new-"

With a woosh Lovely was cut off by a fellow vampire arriving to the scene in a car. Without another word they loaded the car and off they went.

The short minutes dragged on in Treasure's mind as they made their way, before they knew it, they had arrived.

Stepping out of the car, they gazed upon what looked like a palace out of a fantasy book.

"Cmon, I've gotta introduce you to William..ugh."

Treasure arched their brow silently following behind Lovely, striding into the castle, a light clicking of their heels upon the velvety floor as they made their way atop the staircase. Lovely knocked, almost immediately warranting William's silky voice in response.

"Come in"

Lovely inhaled shakily, pressing the door open and stepping inside, Treasure trailing behind.

A tensioned silence flooded the room after the door shut.

"Treasure..?"

Porter stood, once facing William now looking at his jewel. Eyes widening at their altered appearance he studied them, "Treasure what happened-"

"Why so concerned Porter? Oh..i see, do I finally have more than laundry to worry about now? Am I extraordinary enough to care about you now?"

William cleared his throat, the room filled with an awkwardness only a poet has the words to describe.

"Lovely, I believe this..conversation is best had another day." He says with a rare gentleness, glancing between Porter and Treasure

"Right." Lovely nods, signaling Treasure to turn and walk back out. As Treasure lifted their leg to walk out, a swift hand snatched their wrist. Porter.

"Treasure, please I'm sorry-"

Treasure yanked their hand from him, turning on their heel as the door shut behind them, now in the hallway.

"You're not fucking sorry"

"Treasure please believe me there is nothing I regret more than the way I left you that night"

"Good."

"What..?"

"You heard me. You've got super hearing don't you? Fucking use it. You said you wanted us to get to know each other. You promised a vulnerability that you then cut me down and hurt me for wanting. I guess you were right, Porter...

I don't and never will unders6tand you."6

[daizedndconfused]

What gifts would you give the ninjago characters? Hope ur having a happy holiday

aww thank you!! i had so much fun haha but let’s get into this

gifts id give the ninja

kai

to be funny id give him like an absurd amount of hair gel with his name and face on it i think it’d be hilarious

as a genuine gift i’d get him fireworks. THIS MAY SEEM ODD BUT HEAR ME OUT. he’s hot headed we all know that and i feel like he’d have so much fun going into the middle of nowhere and lighting a bunch of fireworks

i’d ALSO get him tickets to a rage room. personally i’ve never been to one but k really want to and i think kai would THRIVE. he gets to whack the shit out of things for funsies and LEGALLY!! what could be better??

cole

id get him a record player and some old records to go with it

i’d also get him a new guitar because (again if you read my fics yk how i feel about this) he’s probably been wanting a new one for so long but doesn’t actually ask for one cause they’re expensive (DONT CARE ILL BUY IT!!)

i would get him lego lily flowers because…yk that was his moms name and they’ll never die cause they’re legos

jay

a new video fr or like a gift card for game stores cause he needs to play something new im begging

i’d also get him legos but like i’d get him a really big one that’s at least 1000 pieces cause he goes through that shit sooo fast

anddd id get him a lightsaber because ik he’d have fun with it

zane

to be funny (again cause i’m hilarious) id get him a snow cone maker

as a genuine gift i’d get him a STACK of beautifully bonded classic literature along with some cute sweater cause they’d look good on him ik it

lastly i’m getting him a heated blanket… he’s gotta be tired of being cold all the time just be cozy pleaseeee

lloyd

i’m giving him an entire comic book series (or at least a good chunk cause there’s so many in one series

i’d also give him a cute framed picture of when he was a kid because my poor boy did NOT get enough of a childhood

on that similar note i’d give him things he used to like as a kid like action figures cause he defo collects them

nya

my girl nya gets an old motorcycle that i found for cheap that she can take a part and make better. ik she’ll add whatever the hell she wants to it and make it an absolute MACHINE

i’d also get her a leather jacket with like a little lightning bolt on one sleeve and a drop of water on the other she loves jay after all

again to be funny id get her a do not disturb thing to put on her door cause she needs rest sometimes and ALSO one of those little mini punching bags cause home girl also has some anger issues

[emswritingsstuff]

Idk if you’d feel like writing this(I’d probably end up short if you did bc I can’t brainstorm much of what would happen but I still love the idea)

when Daryl punched Negan, instead of killing Glenn(rip man) he killed US instead, Daryl’s lover 🤭 I love him sm and he’s been through so much pain, but he needs to suffer more 🫶 fem or gn reader, idm :)

The Lineup (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

warnings/notes: pretty self-explanatory. HEAVY angst, reader death, gorey violence. also the "he needs to suffer more" is CRAZY. this has been living in my drafts since august so i'm excited (ig?) to finally post this.

WC: 1.2k

--

The air was cold, but tensions were hot. Everyone's breaths were obvious in the dark, but also brightly lit area they found themselves in. 

Knees on the ground, everyone frozen but somehow shaking. Daryl was in rougher shape than most but not wanting to admit it himself. Opting to play up the tough face he always seemed to have. More so now than usual. He could see the way you were trembling in the corner of his eyes, quivering like a tiny dog. 

There’s been moments he’s seen you terrified, but this wasn’t like any other. When a psycho with a barbed wire bat was making you pay for your wrongs, it was hard to remain calm. Nothing the man, Negan, had said had really processed in Daryl’s brain, just silent rage and fear brewing inside of him. 

The sick game Negan played fell on deaf ears. Everyone silently watched as the bat made its way around. As Daryl watched the bat cycle through the group, he felt himself tense involuntarily every time it landed near you. He didn’t care what happened to him, but if a single scratch landed on you, Negan would be a dead man. No doubt. 

Once the bat eventually landed on Abraham, a sense of relief washed over him, but only for a moment. 

But every calm feeling he had in his body soon escaped as he saw the bat swing down. 

The events before him had become a blur. A red messy blur. Not only from the blood splattered all around the ground but also from the rage Daryl was feeling. Your heavy breaths could be heard in one ear, Rosita and Sasha’s sobs in the other. With all of it accompanied by wet cracking noises as Negan’s bat kept swinging down. 

As Abraham's now mutilated body laid twitching, Daryl was attempting to think of a solution to get out of this. To get you, and everyone out. 

As the cries got louder, Negan terrorized the group more. More specifically Rosita. As he brought the bat up to her face and flung Abraham's blood on her, Daryl felt something in him snap. 

Like he was controlling himself outside of his body. All the pain he had previously felt fading away into adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

He sprung at Negan and tried to take him down. Only to be quickly pulled off him and pinned down by his men, Daryl’s own crossbow being pointed to his head by Dwight. 

“No! Oh no. That? Oh my, that…is a no-no. The whole bit, not one bit of that shit flies here,” Negan’s act paused for a minute as he spoke, only for him to lock back into it. His bat was pointed at Daryl, looking like he was ready to end him right there. Daryl caught a glimpse of you, a terrified expression with glistening cheeks. 

Daryl felt the crossbow move closer to his head, Dwight getting ready to pull the trigger. “Want me to do it? Right here.” Dwight’s tone sounded eager, which Daryl sees makes you tense up even more. 

Even with your obvious fear, Daryl found himself not caring if he lived or died. Only thing he cared about was doing his best to protect you, and the family he had grown fond of all these years. If he was to get an arrow to the head right there, he wouldn’t mind. He would die knowing he had you, and that was okay with him. 

As if saved by the bell, Negan scoffed with a slight laugh. “No, you don’t get to kill them, not until you try a little.” Negan ordered the men to put Daryl back in the lineup, much to Dwight’s disappointment. Daryl could sense you relax, content with himself that he managed to get out of that situation even if he didn’t fight his way through. He was too focused on you though, only to be brought back to reality once Negan opened his mouth. 

“And anyway, that’s not how it works…” Negan paced around after he spoke. A long silence piercing the air. All until Negan started to speak again. 

“So,” he pauses for a beat, “back to it.” As he spoke, he subtly readied his bat. Enough to where no one saw his next move coming. 

In a blur of a motion, Negan lifted his bat and swung it down. Right onto your head. 

A cracking sound caused Daryl to look over, horrified with the sight before him. Your body laid limp on the ground, unlike Abraham, the blow had knocked you down instantly. Red blood shined and sunk into the ground. It wasn’t a lot, not yet at least. 

Daryl was frozen, unmoving. He felt his stomach churn. This was his fault. If he had just stayed in line, this mess would’ve blown over. You’d be safe. 

You’d be alive. 

As the bat swung down again, Daryl felt himself jump. The wet whacking sound made him feel even more nauseous. He was attempting to think of things to make the moment go by quicker, just wanting the Hell he was stuck in to end. But it was really never going to end. 

His mind flashed back to when everything had first started, when everything was still so uncertain. Back when he had lost Merle, you’d stuck by his side. 

He was scared to let you go, even if his stubborn personality would never make him admit it. The constant pushing away and cold hearted facade he had never seemed to phase you. Never once had you given up on him, even at his weakest moments. 

Having you around always gave him hope. A sort of hope that everything could be normal, hope that he would never have to suffer alone again. 

A simple “I’ll never leave you,” you had once spoken to him rang in his head. Of course you held true to that, how could you not? Nothing he could’ve said or have done could have made you go. 

And he’d never forgotten that. 

A third whack brought him out of these thoughts. Glancing over, all he managed to see was Negan’s silhouette and the bat. Blood dripped from the wire, as well as soaked the wood. Daryl tried to convince himself that what he was seeing was some sort of hallucination. Something that he had conjured up in his head due to all the blood he had lost. 

But Negan whipped his bat in Daryl’s direction, causing the blood that coated the wire to splatter on his face. Confirming it was real, too real. 

Looking at everyone’s trembling figures, his face softened up but only for a moment, “I am sorry, I truly am. But I did say, no exceptions!” He again brought the bat down onto your mangled, driving home the fact that there was no saving you. 

Whack after whack Daryl disassociated more and more, begging and even pleaded to be freed from the Hell he brought upon himself. But once again Negan's voice brought him back to the harsh reality. 

“You all are a bunch of pussies, I’m just getting started,” he stated as he paused for a moment, quickly returning to beating your body senselessly. All Daryl could feel was the now cold blood on his face and arms. He couldn’t take it.

You were gone because of him. That was all his fault, and he had to live with that. Forever. 

And for him, that’s a fate worse than death.

[bloodhoundsandplagues]

want me

leon kennedy x reader

2K words

summary : you're given a vaccine to cure you of the man-made virus you're infected with- but no one told you it would be painful, or that it would cause an old crush to surface. as your thoughts clear, you realise that leon kennedy is right next door, so you may as well, right?

warnings : lots of swearing, mentions of nsfw (just jokes, no actual smut), one vaguely gory description at the beginning ? potential for some actually REALLY heavy making out and like. hands under the shirt (no boobs tho soz)

no use of Y/N, gn reader, no spoilers for any of the games, no set time when this is supposed to be set. again kinda short but idk what yalls standards are for fic lengths

A/N : no picture for this one bcs my tumblr fucks up the quality of EVERYTHING. also for u lot to picture whichever leon u want <3

Pain is nothing new to me. 

I’ve been thrown off buildings and out of cars, drowned, strangled, smacked, shot, punched, kicked, bitten- the works, really. I know what it feels like to hurt; when your insides twist and turn and burn as if begging you to just die, relieve the pain a little. 

But this? 

Oh, this is a whole new kind of pain. I know it’s not normal. Some fucker put a man-made virus in me; doctors had to give me a vaccine, because my life was on the line, et cetera, et cetera. But what they didn’t tell me was that the bioweapon living in me would fight, claw, and scream; that it would not go down easily, like I hoped it would. 

I can hardly breathe, curled into a ball on a cot in an empty hospital room. My throat is burning, my heart thumping violently in my chest. I am Prometheus; an eagle standing over me, tearing out my liver, letting the blood drip onto my face as it chews. I feel the dread of regeneration; the knowledge that as soon as the eagle is finished, it will tear back into my belly, cawing happily. I see it, for a moment, as I dance in and out of reality; only the eagle has bright golden eyes and there is so much blood. 

I feel like I’ve been bent over and fucked raw with a sword made of fire. 

I sob and scream into my hand; the doctors have given me painkillers, but they’re doing shit fuck all for the pain. I swim in and out of consciousness for hours, my vision blurry, everything around me muffled. I can’t tell if they’ve actually left me alone, or if I’m just losing my mind. 

Occasionally, people enter the room. I think they talk to me, but I can’t tell over the sound of my own crying and the shapes, silhouettes dancing around me. At some point, someone touches my forehead, as if to check my temperature. Groggily, I think, this isn’t a fever, shitbag. Ever the eloquent one, me, especially when in excruciating pain. 

Finally, it dulls, and I manage to move without wanting to pull out my eyeballs. It’s nothing special, only a turn of my head, a flutter of my eyelids as I try to open my eyes. 

There’s someone in the chair next to my cot. At first, I hallucinate- the shape slumped there goes from being my mum, to my sister, to my uncle, to my supervisor (which is the weirdest of them all, because he’s the only one I’ve talked to in the last decade). But finally, it shifts to something more solid, something real. 

My heartbeat picks up significantly, which the monitor I seem to be hooked up to decides to broadcast. I sit up, and the pain courses through me again. The shape seems to look up, and I recognise blond hair, blue eyes, a bruise on the cheekbone as my vision clears. 

“Leon,” I say. It comes out as more of a grunt, my tongue heavy and sandpapery in my mouth. I feel like I’ve downed fifteen shots of the strongest alcohol known to man and hit by a car. I try again. “Leon.” It comes out clearer this time. 

He reaches out, grabs onto my hand and squeezes. I try to squeeze back but nothing happens except for another not enjoyable shot of pain. 

“Careful,” he says, his hand moving up to my wrist. He’s checking my pulse, I realised. Why? The machine is practically flatlining, with how fast my heart is beating. 

Oh. That’s why he’s checking my pulse. 

“Leon,” I say, and it finally comes out right. I grin, and am filled suddenly with a wave of happiness. My heart jumps into my chest and I’m struggling to breathe as I gaze at him. I don’t know what I must look like to him right now, but I do know that he’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. 

“I’m here,” he reassures me. His other hand comes up to gently touch my face, the pads of his fingers brushing over my cheekbones, my eyebrow, my nose. He stops before they reach my mouth (if I wasn’t in this much pain, I would have grabbed his hand, pulled him back) but I think I see him hesitate. 

Is it the pain meds that are making my stomach flutter, the tips of my fingers tingle? 

I open my mouth and nothing comes out. What is there to say? 

His eyes are so, so blue. I hadn’t quite realised until now, now that he’s so close. 

“Y’pretty,” I slur out, and I grin. The pain in my limbs is slowly dulling, and I somehow push myself up on my elbows. Leon immediately puts a hand to the back of my neck, supporting me as I sit up. And his skin is warm, and I am feeling warm in all kinds of places, and I don’t know if it’s the pain meds or my beating heart or the virus currently being wrestled out of my body, but before he can even breathe in to answer, I open my mouth again. 

“So pretty,” I say. My words are clearer, but my vision is dancing between blurred and clear. His brows are furrowed, and I lift my arm, ignore the pain to trace the lines of his face. They seem to shine gold and silver in the soft light of the hospital room. 

He says my name, almost like a prayer falling from his lips. He breathes it out, taking my wrist and gently moving it away from his face. I feel a little drunk, but at least the pain is numbed slightly. 

“You’re-“

“No.” I shush him, shaking my head. “I’m nothing.” My words are mixed up, coming out all jumbled and wrong. That’s him, making me feel that way, I try to convince myself. 

He stands, clears his throat. Goes to the door; I think he calls the doctor, but I’m too far away to hear, dancing in some strange minds cape again. Colours flow around me, like liquid sunlight. I reach out and try to catch some in my hand. 

It takes what feels like a thousand years for the doctors to clear me to go home. I have to be helped into a wheelchair by nurses, and it’s Leon (sweet, beautiful, lovely Leon) who pushes me out, into someone’s car (not his, I hope, because I smell terrible). It’s Leon who drives me home, a quiet song on the radio, checking every few seconds to make sure I haven’t passed out. 

I am able to stand by the time we get to my place. I wonder briefly how he knows my address, then remember that time he came over, years ago. Did he find the text I sent him? Or does he have it memorised? I watch his face, entranced. 

He opens the door, helps me out of the car. Keeps his arm around my waist, supporting what feels like my full weight. He pulls keys- my keys, I realise when I recognise the tacky keyring hanging off them- from his pocket, inserts them in the lock. I refuse to let him carry me up the stairs, although he insists and insists. His arm stays tight around me, muttering very quiet encouragements to me as we go. I almost collapse in relief when I see my front door, still painted atrociously yellow. I should change that, I think. 

He gets me into my apartment, and I am finally able to stand without help (although I stumble a little, and my head spins every time I move). He offers to leave, but I gulp down whatever feeling is rising in my gut, let out a muttered “stay,” give him my best puppy eyes. He agrees without hesitation, asking me if I need anything. 

“‘M gonna- gonna run a bath,” I garble very attractively. He nods, sits on the couch that doubles as my bed (studio appartments, amirite?) and waits, so pretty. 

I shut the bathroom door- don’t lock it, though- and sit on the lip of the bath, watching the water running. My thoughts are beginning to clear, the pain now just a dull throb in the background rather than an overwhelming burning in my throat. I swallow it as I dip my fingers in the water, trying to blink the fog out of my eyes.

“You okay in there?” Leon calls. I look up, and the painkiller fuelled what-the-fuck-ever takes control once more. 

“Yeah,” I say, my voice slightly strangled. The last thing I need right now is a distraction. I need a bath, normal clothes, I need his hands on me and his mouth on mine- 

I check that the bath is full enough, and dunk my entire head under. 

God, what is wrong with me? I’ve always had less than appropriate feelings about Leon, sure, but in a coworker/friends way, not in a dirty thoughts in the bathroom way. 

Unfortunately, these thoughts remain when I come back up- my hair is just soaking wet now, and my eyes sting a little. 

“Fuckin’ stupid,” I mutter to myself. I don’t reach for a towel; instead I sit on the lip of the bathtub, staring into the water, dripping onto my trousers. Y’know, like a loser. 

I start to take my shirt off, then stop. The simple movement makes my ribs feel like they’re being torn out and used to stab me repeatedly; I stop and immediately lower my arms, groaning. 

Fuck. 

I get up, and manage to hobble to the door. Open it- luckily I don’t have to fumble with the lock. 

“Leon,” I say, and he’s on his feet in half a second, in front of me in the second half. I reach out and he grabs onto my waist, steadying me as I sway back and forth. 

“I don’t wanna bath,” I say, my words jumbling together. I reach up, cup his face in one hand. “Want- want you.” 

He hesitates, almost moving away from me. His throat bobs, his eyes narrow and widen; there’s a tic in his jaw, which I smooth down with my thumb. 

He says my name, and I shake my head. 

“I feel fine,” I say, and thank god my words are clearer. “Do you?” 

Almost involuntarily, it seems, he pulls me a little closer. I touch my forehead to his, my pulse racing. I can feel his too, I realise when I shift my fingers. It’s racing just as fast as mine. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, “this isn’t- I’m not. But you’re… I…” I shake my head. I hope he understands what I’m saying, because I certainly fuckin’ don’t. “Want to kiss you.” He seems so nervous, bless him; maybe unsure of how willing I am to really kiss him, if it’s just the painkillers talking. I nudge forwards with my nose, and he kisses me. 

As soon as his lips meet mine, my legs buckle. He catches me, supporting me fully without breaking the kiss. Fireworks erupt in my chest; if someone were to set me on fire, I would hardly notice- the feeling in my chest, in my throat, is enough to drown out any pain the painkillers might have neglected. 

I stumble into him, and he holds on, his mouth not leaving mine for a millisecond. I thread my fingers through his hair, press the other to his neck, fumbling for his pulse. His heart is beating almost as fast as mine. 

“Leon,” I mumble into the tiny space that opens between us when he pulls away for air. His eyes open and worry fills them. 

“Are you-“ 

“‘M fine,” I quickly say. My speech is almost back to normal. “Just- wanted to say it.” He smiles, for the first time since I woke up, I think blearily, and kisses me again. My back hits the wall, and he pulls me away slightly, a hand at the small of my back. I grin against his mouth, teeth lightly bumping into his. We both laugh and I take the opportunity to kiss the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck, down to his collarbone. He’s still holding me up, and I like it- like not having to support myself. Any thought of pain is gone for my mind as he tilts his head to the side, allowing me better access to his bare neck. God, we’re both such sluts. I lift my head again, and he kisses me, as hungry as I am, I realise. It’s messy, and my hands are all over the place, but he is kissing me in a way that is making me vaguely lightheaded, and he has a hand at the back of my neck, and now he’s the one with his mouth on my throat, whispering what feels like prayers into my skin. It’s no longer the pain that’s making my legs weak. I sigh, then gasp when he presses a long kiss to the dip in my collarbone. He looks at me, and I thread a hand through his hair again. “Shirt,” I say, not politely, despite my little smile. He’s smiling too, and he kisses me as I work at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards so I can press my hands to his bare back, feel his hot skin. He shudders lightly, and I feel his mouth in the crook of my neck, whispering things to me that I wish I could hear. His own hands go under my shirt, resting on my bare waist. His thumb brushes an old scar, hovers there; I feel the question in the touch, and wrap my arms around his neck. 

“Gun,” I murmur into his neck. “Five years ago. Fucked up an op.” He doesn’t respond, but he finds every scar on my back and stomach, and I tell him about every single one, pressing soft kisses to his neck as he searches my skin. The way he makes me feel- the attention he gives me, the gently touch of his fingers, as if I’m something holy- it should be illegal. He kisses me when he finds the last scar, and I kiss him back, and fuck, how’s he got my shirt off? The garment is discarded onto the floor. And I keep kissing him, and he keeps kissing me. I manage to tug off his shirt as well, and of course I know where this is going, and god, I am not going to fight it. 

His hand goes back to my hips, and he pulls away, examines me. Just- just looks at my face, traces the lines of it with his blue blue eyes. I tilt my head at him, and he can’t seem to resist pressing an open mouthed kiss above my pulse, whispering something that sounds like beautiful into my skin. I lean into him, letting out a soft sigh; once again, he moves down, to my collarbone, to the now exposed skin of my shoulders. He takes my hand, kisses my wrist. I feel like I’m being worshipped (although, if I were a god, I wouldn’t want people making out with my statue). 

“Fuck,” I murmur, tightening my grip on the back of his neck. He’s so gentle, and yet… I tip my head back. 

This better be a long night. 

[wolfofcelestia]

oh i agree. i think he’s very emotionally intelligent and very secure in his masculinity. even when they threatened to curse him as a kitty forever he was so unfazed because he literally couldn’t care less if he had to intimidate other underworld crime bosses with a fluffy tail and pointy ears.

he even walked out accidentally with a funny face mask MC bought for him and couldn’t care less about how people were staring 😂

but yeah he’s very self aware and just… very gentle. sylus gives me the impression of a person forced into a life they never wanted to live due to circumstances. and he’s so respectful of every person from every walk of life because he sees the complexities of society and socioeconomic backgrounds/unsavoury conditions.

like he’s always the first to be like “the N109 zone isn’t just a place for degenerates. it’s a place of business. if you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you” every time MC assumes people in these areas are just all slimy criminals. he calls out her prejudice in a very gentle way because he understands that most people in these parts of the city are victims themselves and are just trying to survive (reminds me of gotham)

even in abyssal chaos you can tell he has a deeper understanding on vagrant’s land and has respect for the way the people there live their lives and doesn’t judge or see things in a superficial manner. and challenges MC’s prejudice towards the people living there in what i’m guessing are “slum-like” areas? it’s so “politically informed and educated” of him honestly haha. he’s kinda like the morally grey people’s princess. he isn’t a hero but he does care for the innocent and wants to help the underprivileged. he never punches down. he only ever challenges corrupt people in power.

i’m excited to see what more there is to his story. how he became a crime boss and why. because seeing his personality, it feels kinda unlikely that he’d choose this path willingly. he talks about being tired of power struggles and bloodshed too much to actually want this, so my guess is he’s trying to stay at the heart of intel by running the N109 zone himself so he can stop the crime from within. he’s always been at odds with the judicial bodies so he’d rather die than be a cop. so he’s low-key a vigilante of sorts from what i see. but he’s also so reluctant to admit that he actually cares and seems to frame everything as selfish when it’s obvious he just likes helping people. hes so intriguing to me.

He strikes me as someone who fell into the role of being a big name in the N109 zone because he wanted to help those who were wronged, like he was, if you take his myth as canon. He has the strength to do it, so he uses his strength to shield those weaker than him. And if it means taking the brunt of the law, he would do that too, because as we've seen, he can easily escape. His evol and his aether core allow him to do things normal people would never be able to do, so he lends his power to help those less fortunate

His imposing figure and his willingness to help make him the perfect leader for a group that feels more like family as opposed to a rank and file organization. In the cafe, he asks you to rate your interactions with him and I feel like he would do the same with Onychinus, giving them surveys to keep tabs on what's going well and what needs to be improved

Even if he implies MC is the only one who cares about him, I feel like all of Onychinus would happily sacrifice themselves if he ever needed protection tbh. He was the one who took them in, treated them well, and protected them, and they would give him everything in return

Him being on the wrong side of the law fits into his desire for freedom. And some things just can't be done within the confines of the law. After all the injustices he's seen and experienced first hand, I don't think he has any respect for the law whatsoever, so he does what he believes is right to do what needs to be done. He's definitely a vigilante or at least an antihero

Sylus still needs more of his free 4* companions and anecdotes. Not to mention more 4* cards for him in general, so hopefully we'll see more sides to him in version 3!

[voidsturn]

title: cowboy like me

pairing: crime syndicate!matt x undercover agent!reader

plot: matt, feeling betrayed by the one girl he loved, struggles with heartbreak and rage after her role in an ambush nearly destroys his family. she insists it was for the protection of his father, but matt’s trust wavers between eggshell-like hope and total loss. can they put aside their ‘differences’ and hopefully not kill each other?

trope: angst?? (i swear it started off as one), maybe hurt/comfort??, betrayal trope, forced proximity, lovers to enemies, open ending

warnings: words and mentions related to firearms and death. this is such weird timing, (matts slightly aggressive in this one folks) due the shit show caused by the recent friday video.

author’s note: ‘and the skeletons, in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up…’

also credits to anyone who has ever done anything like this. if anyone wants me to tag them, i’m fully ready to do so cause its a rlly fun pairing tbh

matt - blue | reader - pink | chris - orange | nick - purple

matt didn't have much time left. barely one half hour, before the other side would bust through the mindfully constructed door of his ‘abandoned’ cabin, in the middle of the woods. matt’s mind was scrambling more than his wounded figure. scrambling for answers while his tired and injured body hurriedly searched for guns. matt knew this would happen. trusting a girl that reminded him of himself before ‘everything’ was like knowingly falling into a bear trap. just like how the bear trap suspends it’s target in air for the entire world to judge, matt felt the same. ashamed, vulnerable and filled to the brim with pure, unadulterated rage.

matt heard his heartbeat in his goddamn head. on the verge of either passing out or drowning in a pool of his own tears, he didn't know what to choose. his pride, but most importantly his trust was just left shattered. like a few thousand, tiny pieces of an expensive glass someone purposely broke. he finally chose the latter. completely spent, matt tiredly slunk down the hardwood wall of his bedroom.

choosing to cry was easier said than done. in reality, he felt shell-shocked. replaying the last hour of one of the worst days of his life, thus carved the path for fresh, hot tears to stream down matts battered up face. the engagement was supposed to be a new beginning. it was the happiest the sturniolo family has been in years.

matt remembered his brothers. the stark difference between before and after was depressing to watch. nick was beaming. he was so happy, he finally found the love of his life and nick finally made him his. aaron, nick’s fiancé, along with nick, were decked with brown and grey suits respectively. the newly engaged couple’s childlike grins, were enough to make the saddest one in the world crack a smile. the engagement hall was big enough to fit a few hundred people, yet only the nearest and dearest to the sturniolos were present. them coupled with a few dozen guards made it seventy.

chris and matt were so stupidly happy for their beloved older brother. they kept teasing and lightly punching nick, who was getting more annoyed by the minute. after witnessing the beautiful engagement, all matt could think about was his own future with y/n. she was rough at the edges, but adored cats.

he still remembered the first time she finally smiled at him. it was after matt managed to save a stray kitten from a tree. after seeing her in that light, he made it his life’s mission to make her his. he had fallen in love and was going to tell her once she came back from the bathroom.

”chris y’know where y/n might be? i’m getting worried.” his hard headed brother was finally whipped, chris thought in his head.

thought in his head cause he was in no mood to get smacked by matt. “bro, y’need to calm the fuck down. she’ll be here.”

as if on cue, a door bust wide open. it wasn’t the bathroom door but the main door. it all happened so fucking fast. too damn fast. the horrifying sound of bullets and screams, echoed throughout the hall. the guards ate most of the bullets for dinner while some of the family got shot, a few at very critical places. the main guard, along with others, managed to whisk only nick and mark along with their parents and other cousins to safety.

chris and matt had already run off into the storage closet of the hall where chris thought a few guards were. alas, they were met with two dead and one fatally injured. they had no time to say their goodbyes while taking the nearly empty mags of three shotguns.

sounds of the huge glass chandelier falling gave the two triplets time to escape that they desperately needed. once the gunshots outside stopped, matt and chris made their getaway on some guards bike. matt and chris had been shot. grazed thankfully just on their arms and abdomen. thank the gods the other side had a couple bad shots, or the two would be bleeding to their deaths right now.

“how the fuck did they know where we were?! no one other than the people inside knew about this!” screamed chris while speeding on the bike, away from the worst ambush ever seen. matt screamed back. “i don’t fucking know! your dumbass probably told one of the girls you fucked! hang on i’m getting a call!”

“i might be dumb but i’m not a fucking idiot! i can’t fucking believe you would-” “shut up chris i can’t hear anything!” the ambush might’ve had some bad shots, but nicks phone call was a shot through the heart for matt.

nick was screaming on the other line. “your fucking girlfriend works for them! i barely saw them talking to her while i was fucking getting shot at!”

matt’s short boat ride, trip down a stormy memory river, was harshly interrupted by yelling. someone familiar was calling out his name. it didn’t create butterflies everywhere in matt’s body. not anymore. it was replaced by the urge to shoot her dead.

downstairs, y/n was yelling as if these words were the last to escape her mouth. “matt! i know you’re here! please just let me explain!” she cried, hoping it wasn’t too late. but it was. she turned around and found herself face to face with matt. y/n’s teary eyes met matt’s cold, bloodshot ones. the tension in the woody cabin was bone chilling. matt’s right hand was occupied by a pistol, aimed point-blank at y/n.

“matt-”

“just shut up y/n! just fucking shut up!” matt's loud voice boomed throughout the small living room of the two floor cabin. “i can’t fucking believe you would do this to me! i’m gonna fucking kill you!” even after saying all this, matt’s shaking hands and voice betrayed him. he didn’t really want to kill y/n, but she was the reason his entire family almost died this evening.

“matt if you could just please let me explain-”

“fuck you y/n. i’m not gonna give you time to get out of this. i fucking trusted you with my life, even if nick and chris told me not to. i knew something was up but i didn’t care. goddamnit, i fucking loved you. so much. i would’ve done anything for you-” matts tears started running their previous course on his face, yet again.

“please don’t kill me matt. just please hear me out-” y/n was terrified. she wanted to explain but she knew she really fucked up. matt was probably going to be the last one to see her… alive.

matt had had enough. he walked towards y/n and pushed her against a wall. he turned off the safety of his gun and forced it into y/n’s temple, while his left forearm was pushed against her neck, just enough to bruise. y/n didn’t fight back. “y’ wanna explain then fuckin’ explain. and do it quick cause i’m in no fuckin’ mood to ever listen to you… ever again!” with a shaky voice, y/n began her reasoning.

“i was ordered to investigate your family. your now broken relationship with the changrettas put you in a tough spot with the immunity that was granted after your father agreed to testify in that sealed murder hearing. uhm-” y/n was worried she was going to get killed for even mentioning matt’s dear father when matt was quick to push the gun further into her side to her head, all while pushing his forearm deeper into y/n’s neck, choking her. “keep going… y’fucking traitor.”

“matt- please i- can’t… breathe…” matt didn’t realise how strong of a grip he had on her neck and loosened it cause he just had to listen to her. such strong love for someone sadly can’t just vaporise no matter how much they’ve hurt them. for matt whose love was hard to come by, things just made it worse… more intense for him. he was getting contradicted by the entire fucking universe. it was becoming too much for someone even as dangerous as him.

y/n deeply inhaled and continued, trying to look anywhere except at matt’s death stare at her. “my agency sent two people undercover into the changretta family and managed to kil- uhm… eliminate or arrest them. we were going to arrest your father because he- i…” matt let out a dry chuckle, “and you told them the best time to get my dad, was the day nick gets engaged-”

y/n knew this was coming. “it wasn’t personal matt-”

“i’m so fucking done with you y/n. you’re the worst fucking bitch i’ve ever met my entire life…”

“there’s a fucking reason you dick!”

all this did was piss off matt even more. he punched the wall right next to y/n’s head out of pure agony, but she didn’t flinch. not one bit. she’s seen way worse than some pissed off guy. but this was matt, who was still her one epic love, even if it wasn’t reciprocated anymore. she was worried cause he might never trust her ever again, but she still does. that’s why she came to him completely unarmed.

matt was so overwhelmed by everything. he was just so fucking tired at this point. he never thought things would turn out the way they did. so he did the one thing he never thought he would do. he threw his pistol away from them and let go of y/n. her fucked up hair, the gun head shaped dent on her temple, and the bruise on y/n neck, piled feelings of shame on matt’s overbearing load of emotions. the dried up tears on matts face were immediately replaced with fresh ones.

he yet again, slunk down on the brown couch and supported his heavy head with shaky hands. y/n was just as tired. tired of herself. she knew she’d crossed a huge line, even if it was with the purest of intentions. seeing the sight of her everything in tears all because of her, made y/n want to hug him and kiss him and tell him that everything was gonna be okay.

she sat next to matt and continued her explanation because he needed to hear it.

“i did all this to protect your dad, matt. the two people who went undercover with the changrettas caught wind of some plan to kill your dad after his testimony… and i couldn’t let that happen. so instead, we replaced some of your guards with our people, over a few weeks so you wouldn’t get too suspicious. then we moved to make contact today only cause nick had told me, he and mark were planning to go on a vacation right after the engagement. right now your dad, mom, nick and justin are under custody but they’re safe. the immunity is granted and since your father is always privy to important information, the agency is protecting him. i have no idea where chris is. last we saw him was with you. i followed you and i sent two others to find him. and now-”

“why couldn’t you tell me y/n? i could’ve helped you-” asked matt. he was still in two minds but the mind that believed in her, overpowered his now weak reasons to kill her. “no you couldn’t have matt. i could’ve told you… any step of the way and all that would’ve done is overcomplicate things. no one if your family could know… mainly cause we believe there’s a mole in your organisation-”

“there’s no fuckin’ mole. i trust those people with my life-”

“just like you trusted me?”

“i’m sorry y/n but what i saw and how i got to know about you… i don’t know if i can believe in you. i’m just so fuckin’ tired and all i’m thinking is how the fuck am i just supposed to take your word for it…”

y/n let out a quiet sigh. “i dunno. i’m in charge to get you safely to our headquarters. but, i can’t let you outta my sight until i get to know chris’ whereabouts. and… i'm pretty sure y’know where he is. ”

“what if you’re fuckin’ tricking me into telling you where chris is?” after so long, matt actually looked at y/n. she was making a phone call. “give the phone to jimmy. the second triplet needs confirmation they’re all safe. here matt.” y/n said while giving her phone to him.

“dad?! please tell me you’re okay!” matt heard the code his father said. only they knew about this phrase. this proved to matt that it was actually his dad. after a minute long conversation, matt gave the phone back to y/n.

“no ma’am, i don’t know where he is. but i will bring both of them safely to the headquarters… yes even if that’s… the last thing i do. thank you ma’am.” y/n said before cutting the encrypted call.

“what do you mean even if it’s the last thing you do?” even after everything matt definitely did not want y/n to die. he still loved her but the trust would take some time. “it’s nothing…” she said, moments before y/n heard the noise of tires screeching on the dirt road of the forest. she was quick to instruct matt.

“stay behind me.”

he walked towards where matt threw his gun and gave it to her. “how’d you know i didn't have a gun?”

matt genuinely chuckled for the first time since this fucked up day. “y’might’ve fooled me, but i still know how to read people jus’ by looking into their eyes. and i definitely know your eyes, sweetheart…”

just before y/n could retort, the door of the cabin slammed open, to reveal a wildly shocked chris, looking at his beloved brother and the girl who was the reason he was on a wild goose chase for the past hour.

”chris, lemme explain…”

”you fucking psycho-”

author’s note 2: i would rlly appreciate any sort of comments (not straight up hate) so as to improve my writing skills and everyone’s reading experience! :) hope u liked it! also happy new years in advance!!!

[sarastellasari]

New Years Kiss (Part One)

part two, part three (they’re also at the bottom!)

@123letsgobestie @haniya1234, Im pretty sure u guys wanted to be tagged!

ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂

Grayson Hawthorne sighed as he stared at his brothers' expectant faces. 

“For the last time, no, I will not find a girl so I can get a New Year's kiss.”

“But Grayson!” Xander pouted, giving the blonde-haired boy puppy eyes,  “You’re the only one of us who won't get one!” Xander had very good puppy eyes, but Grayson had become resistant to them over a lifetime.

“There’s not even a single girl?” Nash asked curiously, frowning. Grayson shook his head, face turning hot.  

“Gray, we're worried.” Nash sighed, patting the spot between him and Jameson on Grayson's bed. Grayson did not sit down.

“You've barely ever been with anyone!” Xander sighed, flopping down empathetically. Jameson nodded in agreement. 

“Emily died years ago, Gray, it's time to get over her.” Grayson jerked his head up, startled. 

“You think this is about Emily?” Jameson frowned. 

“Is it not?” Grayson hesitated. Was it about Emily? No, he decided firmly, he just hadn't had time to date between college and helping Avery. He only had so much time in a day, or a month, or a year after all. 

“My dating life, or lack of one, has nothing to do with Emily.” He confirmed. Nash frowned. Jameson raised an eyebrow. Xander grimaced.

“What caused it then? Please explain in great detail,” Jameson said, lacing his fingers together as though he was one of Grayson's professors. Grayson frowned.

“I don’t really know, I guess.” He admitted. “I guess I just don’t really have time for dating.” Xander frowned. 

“No time for dating? Man, sounds like college sucks. Even though you don't date, do a lot of girls like you, since you’re a Hawthorne?” Grayson flushed, thinking of the stampedes, the sunglasses he had to wear, the love notes slipped under his door, and his singular kiss while he was away. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. Jameson and Xander grinned, no doubt thinking of what was going to come in only a few years.

“Guys, you all have girlfriends.” Xander smiled dreamily at the thought. Jameson smirked.

“Yes we do,” he agreed. “And we have people we’re gonna kiss on New Year's.” Grayson scowled at his unsubtle attempt to steer the subject back to their original topic.

“Enough, Jameson. And the rest of you as well. I will not be kissing a girl on New Year. End of discussion.” 

Grayson pretended he didn’t notice the looks his brothers were exchanging, the matching smirks on their faces.

Let them try, He thought. But no girl will be kissing me. 

No matter what devious plan his brothers came up with.

ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂

“Heiress, I’m gonna need you to invite Lyra to our New Year’s party,” Jameson smirked, walking into Avery’s room, completely shirtless.

“O-okay?” Avery said, looking up from her book and raising an eyebrow. “Why?” 

“Oh, you know. She’s our friend. And stuff.” Avery set her book down. “Grayson needs a New Year's kiss.” Avery grinned.

“Aww, and you wanna be his wingman! How sweet!” Jameson scowled. Avery laughed internally.

“No it’s just- have you seen the way he looks at her?” Avery nodded. 

“And the way she looks at him?” The couple exchanged a look. 

“Reminds me of us,” Jameson added, stalking towards the bed. Avery laughed.

“I’ll go call Lyra.” Jameson cheerfully tossed Avery her phone, Lyra’s numbers already punched in.

“How did you- never mind.” Jameson wandered to Avery’s closet, pulling out a shirt. Avery absentmindedly watched him. Jumping when she heard Lyra answer.

“Hello?” 

“Hi Lyra, this is Avery,” Avery responded, eyes still on Jameson's back muscles. He had very nice back muscles.

“Hey, Avery. What’s up? Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah, everything is fine, w-“ Avery smirked as she got an idea. “Grayson was wondering if you would like to attend our New Year’s party. It’s at our house on… New Year’s Eve” 

“I assumed,” Lyra responded. Avery cringed, glowering at Jameson who was shaking with silent laughter, his shirt now on but unbuttoned. “I would love to come through. What time does it start?” 

“Uh, 7?” Avery guessed. She didn’t actually know, but seven seemed like a plausible time. 

“Great. I’ll be there. Tell Grayson I say thanks for the invite. Bye, Avery!” And she hung up.

“Yes!” Jameson cheered. Avery high-fived him, grinning. The brothers' plan was working perfectly. 

ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂

part two, part three (again)

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

// You know, I'm worried about Eloise's personality, from her FTEs, I feel like there's something hidden inside her...

// Basically I'm scared Eloise will be the next Kanade Otonokoji.

//I do know what you’re talking about by this point, because I did Eloise’s FTE’s, and yeah. The thing is, I think Eden’s Garden are being managed by a team who is kind of tired of all the classical DR tropes, and doesn’t really want to employ them. At least I hope.

//Eloise is definitely my favourite character in Eden’s Garden right now because of how much POTENTIAL she has as a character to develop, either positively, or negatively.

//Just for the sake of protecting the innocent, since this is still early days, and I talked way longer about this than I thought I would, I’m going to hide the rest of this post under a cut in case I spoil something major. But this is my take on Eloise as a character so far:

//It’s true that Eloise is giving me the vibes of early-game Kanade, since she’s ordinarily pretty meek, but when things get serious, she gets strangely…methodical, and driven.

//However, I think we’re leaning more towards how Mikan acted when she underwent her personality shift instead of Kanade. As things currently stand, I can definitely see Eloise going the route that Mikan SHOULD have gone, and that she eventually snaps when being pushed to her limit by some bully.

//The only issue is I don’t really see who could be her victim in this case. The most likely candidate is Grace, but I do actually think she’s going to get some development after this chapter.

//Because yes, I have made it to the body discovery by now. We haven’t done the trial yet, but we will soon.

//And also, Grace is not NEARLY as bad as Hiyoko was to Mikan. She’s just rough around the edges more than anything, and considering she talks about how the golfing industry is far more cutthroat than it seems, especially for a young woman, then it’s less of her being rude, and more treating everyone like a potential enemy and doubting everyone’s intentions. It’s largely why she punched Damon on sight, stoped everyone from investigating Wolfgang’s room, and demanded her blackmail from Eloise in such a vicious way.

//Speaking of Grace’s issues, based on what I saw in Eloise’s FTE’s, my current line of thinking is that she has something similar. And with the way that Eloise and Grace seem to so subtly parallel each other, I feel it makes a lot more sense.

//Unlike Grace, who clearly has to fight for her life to get to where she is, Eloise got to where she was by LITERALLY not having to lift a finger.

//The other members of Eloise’s fencing club were too scared to face off against her. She explains in FTE 3 that in fencing, forfeiting a match counts as a win for your opponent, so basically, the main reason she became the Ultimate Fencer is because people refused to fight her, and she climbed up the ranks that way. Damon even mentions that he would call her skills into question had it not been for the fact that she'd trained with her teacher.

//And then, in the fourth and final FTE, for now at least, she talks about how her family aren’t especially well off, and that’s kind of where we see the not-so innocent and meek side of her.

//Damon tells Eloise that he makes enough money through winning debate competitions that his parents don't really have to work anymore. Eloise is in a similar position with her fencing, but says her sisters are bratty and come off as ungrateful for the life she's giving them, and she's worried about her mother, having to take care of them.

//Damon immediately asks if her mother has a boyfriend or a girlfriend that can help her out, and phrases it that way because Eloise never mentions anything about having a father before. And as Damon pries, this PISSES HER OFF.

//As far as Eloise’s family situation goes, I have no real comments. At least not yet; because it could be almost anything at this point in time. However, based on Eloise’s nature as it’s been shown so far, I do have two lines of thinking:

//The first is that I think she has some sort of anger problems that she's clearly trying to get help for, but Damon has brought them out. That anger caused her to badly hurt someone in a match before, and because of that, everyone else in her club is scared of her. This why she climbed so high in the ranks, because no one wanted to fight her.

//With that said, as unfortunate as it is, there is also a very real possibility of there being a degree of sadism to her character through her actions. In the investigation segment of this chapter, when Grace blocks the door to Wolfgang’s room and prevents anyone from investigating, Eloise very subtly threatens her, and says that she’ll call Tozu to move her if she doesn’t move herself.

//Knowing full well that Grace especially has just been repeatedly abused by Tozu, and is probably terrified of him, even if she doesn’t show it.

//This method works, and you could always say Eloise was angling for the most effective method, but there’s just something so sinister about the way that her dialogue completely changes tone, and how she speaks very directly about it, instead of beating around the bush, or hesitations like she always does.

//Again, I REALLY don’t want that to be the case, but in the instance that it IS like that, then please Eden’s Garden, at least PORTAY it well!

-Mod

[forget-me-maybe]

✨ 2024 Blorbo Awards ✨

Thank you @little-paperboat for inviting me to the awards this season!

I'm taking some liberties with the categories from the original post, hehe. And it's all BG3 because I don't have any other interests 🤷‍♀️

Invites to the gala (if you want to): @reverieblondie @redroomroaving @faerie-with-a-knife @barbwillbrb @fangbanger3000 @heytheresunflower (I'm a bit out of the loop because of the holidays so if you've done this already please tell me because I want to read them all!!!), and everyone who sees this and wants to do it as well!

This got long and kinda horny for some parts so, more under the cut!

First off, we have the blorbo of the year;

✨ Rolan ✨

Not only did I fall head over heels for this grumpy stray the moment he said damnation, he's also the reason I got back on tumblr and found this amazing community. I owe him as much as he owes me for saving his tail all those times.

Secondly, the bastard of the year;

✨ Aradin ✨

Excusable? No. Redeemable? Maybe. Fuckable? For sure. Congrats on being the most punchable face in the game, and still managing to have me thirst like a wildebeest during dry season. You just can't see red flags through rose-tinted glasses.

Speaking of red flags, we shall follow suit into the third category, the villain of the year. And I think this is where I might surprise some of you, because it's not Raphael, it's no other than the saddest and wettest meow meow of them all

✨ Ketheric Thorm ✨

Why, you may ask? Well, apart from my incurable old-man fucking tendencies, he's got it all. Tragic backstory? Check! Family man? Check! Completely irredeemable? Check! And the man's got a whole act for himself.

Continuing onto my own contributions, here come the OC's of the year.

And of course, it's a tie between Tav and Tav (and another reminder that I should come up with names before I start writing 🤷‍♀️).

First out;

✨ Ester Tavanthuriel from You keep showing up ✨

A naive and one-track minded sorcerer with a heart of gold, and, at times, a whole lot of sass.

✨ Tavaxeni Tumbledown from A change of heart ✨

While her whole characterisation is a bit of an afterthought (since it was supposed to be a one shot), she's turned into my funny and kind of angry punching bag. I love her dearly (she does not love me).

[4lexnilsen]

“but what,  little cat?   we’re allowed to hang out and study together.   i mean,  as long as you want to,”   alex clarifies with a sheepish smile,  reminding himself that they’re just friends so why would they want to hide and never spend time alone?   “helena and alexander.   it has a nice ring to it.   like bonnie and clyde,”   he laughs,  using his free hand to adjust his scarf in a feeble attempt at concealing the rosiness that’s slowly but surely overtaking his face.   helena and alexander.   two old-fashioned yet timeless names.   maybe they do belong together after all.   “yeah,  that does scream OCD,  doesn’t it?   my other friend’s parents also had a theme.   all of their children’s names start with the same letter.   what’s it like being the only child,  hm?   must be nice,  never dealing with this b-u-l-l-s-h-i-t.”   he wouldn’t trade his brothers for the world,  obviously,  but there are days when he gets curious.   is it lonely?   or peaceful?   listening intently as she tells him the story of how her parents came up with her name,  a soft smile blooming on his lips.   “i’m sorry to hear that.   the part about your grandparents and how your dad had to go through something so terrible at such a young age,  how that affected him.”   he lost one parent and still hasn’t fully recovered,  even if he would never admit it out loud.   let alone two.   such a tragedy.   “but that’s such a beautiful story,  a really special meaning.”   his shining light in the darkness.   the name surely fits because that’s exactly what helena is to alex as well —   a lighthouse always guiding him home.   “oh,  so after your grandparents’ death,  he just kind of stepped up and took care of your dad?”   like a legal guardian?   “he must be a good man,  then.”   better than most.   no wonder he’s still in the picture and means so much to both helena and her father.   “i’ve never been to europe but i’d love to go one day.   italy sounds super nice.   poppy and i wanted to go to paris last summer,  but we didn’t really have the money for that so we settled for canada.   vancouver island.   a beautiful place.”   he doubts he can impress a girl like helena wayne with a trip to canada,  but he doesn’t want her to think he’s some uncultured hillbilly who barely travels across state lines.   

“well,  harry doesn’t seem to like me very much,”   he sighs,  simply stating the obvious.   if the other guy,  colby,  reports what he’s seen back to harry,  the two of them laughing and holding hands,  it surely won’t make the other guy happy.   the sad part is —   alex couldn’t care less about harry’s feelings or pride being hurt,  but he is her boyfriend,  after all.   he could try to ensure alex doesn’t get see helena as often,  could try to throw a fit and guilt helena into cutting him off.   that’s the one thing his heart wouldn’t be able to handle.   his head snaps up at the sound of colby’s voice,  the mere sound of it so very annoying.   nails on chalkboard.   it has alex regretting not exiting the rink immediately as well.   lovebirds.   for a split second,  he wonders whether it’s just harmless taunting or they’ll end up throwing punches.   taking another look at him,  he thinks he could take that colby guy down.   pale blue eyes throwing daggers.   fingers curling a little tighter around helena’s,  keeping her in place as she attempts to lunge forward.   before he can say anything,  though,  she’s already roasting the guy and he’s skating away,  laughing like the idiot that he is.   “come on,  miss eighty pounds of pure fury,  let’s get you some churros before you break the guy’s nose.”   he laughs,  curling an arm around helena’s shoulders and guiding her towards the nearest exit.   there’s a bench nearby so they’ll be able to take off their skates and and change into regular boots.   “we should have asked him to take a picture of us,  give him something to show harry what lovebirds we are.   poor guy clearly doesn’t understand boys and girls can be just friends,”   he huffs,  rolling his eyes as he helps the raven-haired girl sit down.

"no, but..." kind eyes flicker up on his face, mind buffering, before a bashful smile takes over her visage and a sheepish laugh escapes. but it just seems illegal. "okay, i'll do so then." smiling sweetly, that'll be no problem at all since she likes saying it. secretly. "that's not weird, maybe they're just... ocd." she gently laughs, pretending it's not as weird as it really is. doesn't want to insult his parents decisions on that. "it means light or radiance. my dad didn't think he'd ever have children, felt he didn't deserve them, had fears... all of it stemming from his parents dying when he was younger, so he's dealt with a lot darkness and when mom found out she was pregnant he suggested helena. because 'i was his shining light in his darkness'." helena recites, a small smile approaching back on her face after telling the sad parts of the story at how sweet the ending is. "he's more like... my dad's father he never had. and my grandfather." she replies, deciding not to say butler. some things need kept as an enigma. "i just know." a smirk, from experience; but again... keeping things mysterious about herself. "maybe, maybe not." the answer is yes but she also doesn't want him to know more things that give away to lead her to being labeled as 'spoiled'.

"sorry, alexander cander, i can't help it." to be so tensed and worried about eating ice for dinner. "we shouldn't be in trouble with harry," even if they are. her face keeps blushing and she's blaming it on the cold arctic air turning her skin pink. "harry decided to hang at the lounge with the guys. you showed. he didn't." helena points out, trying to make herself feel less guilty. which is true. "hmmm, that'll make them even better." the sauce. "dulce de leche is one of my favorite flavors." she's excitedly informing, getting lost in another round of skating because she doesn't really want to leave yet. but she should've trusted her intuition. "so what's the rush love birds?!" colby comes back up on them and helena nearly jolts, turning to glare at him as she sees him and his girlfriend giggling at her and alex. they've caught up as the ZOOM by. anger starting to boil this time, UGH, she's pulling alex in their direction to grab their necks until she realizes she can't let go of him because without his support she'll risk falling. these stupid skates! "they're LUCKY. you know? i was aiming to grab them both." subconsciously squeezing alex's hand in anger, other hand balled in her mitten, ready to hit colby in the back if he hadn't moved away so fast. yelling after him instead while still trying to scoot her feet quickly, "what's the rush, COWARD?!" throwing his own words back at him.