#i am so tired. i am not trying to attack you. stop getting so defensive i am just pointing out that your priority should be your child not

[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.”

[chappellrroan]

people can give as much flak as they want to eldest siblings but they'll never understand how it feels to be your parent parents

[bubblebbg]

can i ask for a jealous mizu from blue eye samurai feeling a little overprotective and jealous when taigen spars with reader bc they are a swordmaster as well? Mizu doesn’t like it how taigen always gets you to laugh or how he injures you when sparring

why yes, anon. you may. Only warning is violence, but like, not really? Not proofread. Also, Mizu's pronouns change per perspective. I may as well shamelessly plug my other Mizu fic right here ;))

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

Mizu has no one to blame but herself when she's forced to bite back her envy and watch you with Taigen. If you two spar one more time, she might throw up in her mouth. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

The clinking of metal on metal, the air sliced through with a swish; all sounds Mizu has become accustomed to. Nonetheless, her eyebrow twitches in irritation, eyes following the movements in front of her. She thinks to herself that she never wanted to be this accustomed to those sounds, especially not when accompanied with Taigen's stupid remarks.

She watches you double back after having knocked him down yet again in the midst of your spars. She hates the way the both of you giggle.

"Please," Mizu rolls her eyes, "It can't be that funny the eighth time."

Taigen collects his sword and stands, sheathing it before dusting himself off. "Like you could do any better. Sure, you're good, but you're no master." He looks to you as he says this, smiling as if the praise was at all inconspicuous. She scoffs a bit when you smile back, crossing her arms and looking to the side.

The irony of her jealousy is that it's of her own making. You've asked Mizu to train with you before, and every time it's been a no. Because she cares about you, she at least does you the decency of making up excuses. "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow" or "I'm busy" - poor excuses, she knows, but she's trying here - and you've learned to stop asking. The truth is, she doesn't trust herself to not give away what she tries to keep hidden. Her heart already beats hard enough around you. The consequence? Watching you spar with a man who's clearly inferior to you, all while he makes pathetic advances and jokes. She's not sure if she hates him or herself more right now.

"But that's right," Taigen remarks, a snarky look on his face, "You're too scared, aren't you?"

The look in your eyes is cautionary as you nudge him. "Stop it," you mutter. And Mizu knows she shouldn't be so childish as to take the bait, but this isn't about you; it's a direct challenge from Taigen on her (sort of) manlihood.

"I am not scared."

"Then prove it. Duel. Right now."

"That's enough, Taigen," you reply, always the mediator, "If Mizu doesn't want to spar, then he -"

"I'll do it," she stands, approaching you both and stopping in front of Taigen with a searing look, "And you'll see that you're not even half the swordsman I am."

𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪

Inhale. Exhale. You stand face to face, a few meters apart, each a hand on their sword. The cold bites, snow falling between the two of you. When you look into her eyes, you see blazing fire, a spirit like tempered steel. When she looks into yours, there's something more unnerving; calm, like the surface of water undisturbed. Her heart pounds.

Inhale, she wills herself. Exhale. She draws and lunges, and you're quick to block it. Another swing, and another, and another, all quick and strong. Sharp eyes, she thinks. Each attack of hers is stopped as soon as it begins. Your eyes, watching as if not only to prevent, but to predict.

Inhale. She steps back, assessing. You're like a fortress - impenetrable defense. Your lips curl in the slightest smile and there goes her damn heart's pounding again.

Exhale. She drops to a crouch and swipes snow at you in an attempt to blind you, to throw off your analysis. She lunges through the spray with a decisive blow, a duel-ending strike.

Nothing. Her blade hits nothing.

Instead there's a blade at her throat, with you behind her. "How the hell did you -"

She reddens at the feeling of your warm chuckle at her ear. "You're breathing gives you away," you whisper, "Every time, without fail." You sheath your blade and Mizu whips around to look at you. She can't help but share the smile you give her. "Dirty bastard," she replies, and your laughter fills the air, the only sound she'll never tire of.

"Hah! I knew it, you're no match either, Mizu!"

Mizu's about to reply when you beat her to it.

"Whatever Taigen, he lasted longer than you ever will."

And it's Mizu's turn to laugh.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being Their Younger Sibling And Part Of The Boys

Requested: Hi! Cliche preference I am sorry, but how would each of The Boys act if R their younger sibling who helps out with the boys is like this really sweet and genuinely nice person to all? Would they be protective, or annoyed, just an idea! Love your work! - anon

A/N: Not cliche at all my love! I absolutely adore this idea! I will 10000% be writing more about being Homelanders sibling!! Thank youuuu I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher wants nothing to do with you. When you're old enough, years after Lenny's death, you escape home and track down Billy. You had nothing. Billy took you in under the guise that it would be temporary and it wouldn't meddle with his work. Bit by bit you learned from M.M. and Frenchie about Becca and Ryan and Vought. You make it known you want to help. Billy forbids you and threatens The Boys: if they even so much as look at you, he'll kill them. Stubbornness runs in the family, though. You worm your way in whether he likes it or not. It's not that didn't miss you or think about you, he just can't bear the thought of you getting hurt. Or killed. Especially at the hands of Vought. It's become a habit for everyone to call him Butcher and you Little Butcher so as not to get confused. Now that there's two of you to keep track of, everyone's a little more annoyed and a lot less forgiving for poor behavior.

Hughie worries about you so much. This life has taken everything from him, he can't imagine why you'd want to join. Still, he knows he can't stop you. You were always coming to his defense as kids, sticking up for him against bullies. You were his backbone for a lot of your childhood. When you want something you go for it. He can't help but lecture you, even over the smallest stuff. After your father passes and your mother finds her way into your lives, he's extra protective. Especially after Tek Knights party, he doesn't let you out of his sight. He's not glad it happened, but he sure is grateful it was him and not you. You've been stabbed and hurt and nearly killed. He jokes that it's taken years off hid life, but there's some truth to it. You're all he's got. He can't lose you. He can't let this life kill you.

Annie stopped talking to your mother a long time ago, but she never stopped calling you. Like your sister, you got a dose of V and trained hard, wanting to be the first pair of siblings in The Seven. After Annie publicly leaves and turns her back on them, you're not sure what to think. Tired of her avoiding the questions, you confront her. You track her down and barge into where The Boys are. You guys get into a pretty serious fight, one everyone can hear through the thin walls. Annie abandoned you. She left Vought and became this fantastical symbol. She had a life and you weren't a part of it. You wanted her to stop lying and avoiding you and tell you exactly what was going on. It takes most of the night, but she tells you everything. In the end, she wants to send you back home with your mother, but you refuse. The Boys need every advantage they can get, that includes you and your abilities. She's not thrilled, but she understands you're an adult, she can't stop you.

M.M. forbids you. Janine is getting into trouble and he's having panic attacks and he just can't have you trying this now. He can't babysit you on top of everything else. You remind him you're an adult, that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. He can yell and scream all he wants, you both know you're not going to stop wanting this. It was your grandfather and father too who were killed by Supes and the stress. You didn't walk away from that unscathed. You had a right to be upset and a right to want to stop Vought. You kept your distance, but Marvin was blowing you off any chance he could get. You got his address from Monique and made a surprise appearance. Butcher tells you everything. You're furious your brother didn't tell you sooner. You could have been a part of this from the beginning. Butcher reminds you it's never too late, but Marvin tells you to go home and leave it to the professionals. You don't. You can't. This is too important. He doesn't like it, but he can't stop you. He never could.

Frenchie couldn't have been happier to have you in his life. Your upbringing was harsh, your father a monster. When he left for New York, he had to make a choice: leave you behind or take you along with him. In the end, he left you behind. The guilt killed him, but you never blamed him. Not then, not now. You learned a lot from him, you're as equally as skilled. As soon as he becomes a part of The Boys, he asks Mallory to look for you. You vanished though. He'd assumed your father had killed you. It isn't until years later that you reappear looking for him, for Serge. You might not have an entire team of powers and knowledge, buy you're smart and skilled and you track him down. He doesn't recognize you at first. You're so much more grown up. But he knows your voice. You're the only one who calls him Serge and most of your conversations are entirely in French. Neither of you are particularly proud of your pasts, choosing instead to live in the moment. When you ask if you can join him he's over the moon. His baby, his best friend, reunited again.

Kimiko can't believe it's you. Like your sister, you and Kenji were captured by the SLLA. Then you and Kimiko were later taken and given Compound V. After that you two were split up. She never thought you made it. It's years later that you escape, killing everyone in your path. Police plaster your face all over the News where Kimiko recognizes you immediately. You're older of course, but you'd always be her baby. She can't let it happen all over again like how it went with Kenji, she can't lose you. Kimiko hunts you down, alongside The Boys, who are wary of you. She assured them you couldn't hurt a fly. The carnage you leave in your wake tells a different story. When you do reconnect, she makes sure they don't draw any of their weapons. You two sign for what feels like forever before she takes you back to The Boys hideout. It hurts her, but she wants to know what happened in all the years between. You and your sister are unstoppable. Literally. You were never meant to have normal lives. This was how it was supposed to be. Trying to be normal just got you hurt.

Bonus! Homelander absolutely fucking hates you. You were created long after him, but you had the same upbringing, the same childhood. The only anomaly was that you turned out far more humane. Because of this, Vought needed extra time to break you in. You never did, though. Not as severely as your brother. Vought was going to turn your debut into this grand political scheme, a massive fuck you to anyone who thought they could stop them, but before they could, you broke out of the labs. Eventually you found your way to The Boys. You and Homelander have identical abilities, though you're not layering through people's skulls or letting entire planes worth of people die. None of them believed you at first, but after you told them about your upbringing and your powers, they had no choice but to believe you. You were exactly what they needed. You and your brother were equals. John wanted you dead just like he wanted the rest of The Boys dead. Keeping you alive was necessary for now. So, he let you live.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You wait. And wait. And wait. 

Each day, each week, your hope dwindles. Barrett doesn’t change. He’s not going to change. You know for sure as you watch him storm out. 

That’s why you didn’t talk to him sooner. It always ends like this. He gets defensive, you get emotional, and it all erupts. If he would just listen! 

You sigh and hold your chin in your hand. You look around at your small apartment. Even when you’ve just cleaned, it feels cluttered. You hate this place. You feel trapped. Or maybe that’s your relationship. Probably, both. 

You don’t think it was that bad to ask for a bit of understanding. All you want is for him to communicate. Instead, he sits on all his gripes until the bubble over in another rant about the squeaky bathroom faucet or the way you fold his shirts. It’s always on you. You’re the one who has to make him happy. Never the other way around. 

This time, it wasn’t the dishes or the mopping or the recycling. Nope. You’re not attentive enough. You’re depriving him. You’re punishing him by not having sex with him after working overtime four nights out of five. It can’t be that you’re tired or hurt. No, it’s an attack on him. 

That’s where it all fell apart.

You tried. Once you got past the frustration and tried to just let the waters calm. When you started talking to him again and fell back into your routine. You were both too busy to keep the fight going. And a few nights, you let him initiate but something would keep you from going all the way. 

Something... 

You saw Wendy last week. She didn’t mention anything about the night you went out. Didn’t mention a guy. She said she had fun and you should do it again. You told her you can’t afford it. Besides, you’re too tired. She called you boring. She’s not wrong. 

You get up and distract yourself. Well, it’s not really for you, is it? You’ll clean everything from corner to corner so he has nothing to complain about. You don’t need him to nitpick another reason to hound you. 

So much for time off. Once more you’re spending it in misery. You finish vacuuming then spray the couch with some freshener. Feeling accomplished but not less addled, you go to the bedroom and pull out some clothes for tomorrow. You’ll go to bed early and get a head start. If you’re lucky, you’ll be asleep before he drags his sorry ass home. 

You yawn as you stare at the time. It’s barely five o’clock and you could keel over. These days, you’re beat to the bone. You can’t remember the last time when you didn’t feel like a sack of dirt. You put your work clothes on the dresser then grab a fresh towel for the shower. 

You wash up, soothed by the warm water, and emerge in a hazy cloud. You go through the motions of applying the discount bin toner and moisturizer. You feel a little fresher. 

You tuck into bed and scroll on your phone for a while. Six-thirty. You black the screen and close your eyes. It takes as much to put you to sleep. 

You dream about flashing lights and the clink of glass. You’re swaying to a drone of music, spinning and swirling. The place is painted in streaks of colours as you keep moving. And when you manage to stop, the room turns on an axis, keeping you dizzy. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and pull you back into a thick body. You can’t escape. You look down and know those aren’t your husband’s hands. Where are you? Who is holding onto you? 

You try to turn around but it’s impossible. You’re stuck in the strange embrace as the neon lights melt and the air pulses with shadows. You push on the arms around you and wriggle desperately.

“Let me go,” you beg, “let me go.” 

Your words rise to a shriek and you wake up with a start. There’s a figure in the room watching you, as if waiting for you to wake up. You almost scream for real as Barrett stares at you. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay before he turns away. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he grumbles. 

You don’t argue as you catch your breath and lower yourself back to the pillows. You can smell the tinge of beer left behind. He’s been drinking. You can’t begrudge him that, not really. Last time it got bad, you did the same thing. At least he came home. 

You cringe. No. Stop. Nothing happened. No one can prove it happened. Not even you. So, it didn’t. 

Your stomach mulches and you turn onto your side. The nausea roils in your stomach. You must be hungry. You didn’t eat. Yet the thought of doing so makes you even sicker. You burp and swallow down the mouthful of acid that sears your throat. 

Stress. It’s stress. And it’s not going to get any better. Not with everything you’re running away from. 

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Thinking and cooking

The brothers react to a Fem MC randomly flashing them during an argument

Warning ⚠️ boobs (also some of these opinions are mine so if it's unlike you just reword it 😭)

Lucifer

As per usual he was sick and tired of MC feeding into his brother's antics and somehow making them worse and more damaging so he started up a calm conversation that turned into a quick argument since MC was so defensive. "Why are you always so damn stubborn you never listen or even take my advi-" MC suddenly walks over being right in front of Lucifer and lifts up their shirt. Chest completely out for all of Lucifer's eyes to see. He immediately stopped arguing and stood shocked mouth open left over from arguing before his face flashes red and he looks away from Mc. "If you wanted a quick way to end the argument you could have apologized...." He says with a scoff as MC grins in triumph and sets her shirt down.

Mammon

He was being a little mean to Luke during a hangout with all 3 of them and MC felt compelled to say at least something. Which of course was a snarky remark that Mammon immediately fought. Easily an argument broke out of course. "I am not an asshole he was getting way too close to you and all hell would freeze over if ya said no to the damn bra-" MC was about sick of his mouth and decided to try something asmos jokingly suggested. MC lifted her shirt with no warning whatsoever staring Mammon right in the eyes as she did. He immediately screams and yanks Mc's shirt back down. His face lit up in a pretty red hue. "THE HELL ARE YA DOING!? DO YOU WANT TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK?" he continues to mumble things as he walks away from Mc steam seeming to come off his face luckily getting away for his sanity's sake.

Levi

What more to rile up an otaku other than dissing on one of his loved characters. MC genuinely didn't like them and made it known and Levi immediately retorted every single thing mentioned. He became too heated and MC was no help in the matter. "He is not a freak! He has some flaws like everyone else! Why do you even hate him so much I just don't get I-" well he freaks out from really any touch so would seeing anything do the same? MC wondered and suddenly lifted up her shirt. Levi shrieks loudly and falls back out of his chair and covers his eyes and ignores his forming nose bleed "M-MC WHAT THE H-HECK W-WHY DID YOU D-DO THAT!?" of course almost everyone in the house of lamentation could hear by now but Mc just shrugs and sets their shirt down "needed a quick way to get back to the game" MC says nonchalant

Satan

Anything can set him off really. But today it was MC saying a certain type of cat was ugly. It was the hairless cats she just didn't enjoy the rotisserie chicken look to them. He immediately started up and argument because well it's cats. "They are just as cute just because they don't have fur doesn't make them any worse than-" MC not wanting to deal with a huge outrage from him thinks for a moment before suddenly lifting up her shirt with one hand a grin plastered on her face. Satan immediately covered his eyes trying to be respectful even as his face burned in embarrassment because what the hell MC!? "You are so annoying just like my brothers..." He says with a agitated groan.

Asmos

MC and asmos were not agreeing on certain beauty trends that have come into light and asmos got a little heated because it was something he believed was art a truly creative and expressive trend that MC just didn't understand. "But you need to think outside of the box MC! It is such a great trend because it starts up an inspira-" MC not wanting him to speak much more knowing he would not stop if he did lifts up their shirt. Asmos just looks at them and continues to rant fully eyeing MC up just refusing to give up. MC sighs and sets her shirt down which asmos didn't appreciate but still continues.

Beel

Who else is surprised when the argument between the two was food related. MC wasn't too particular on sea food and let literally all of devildom know by almost gagging when seeing the food. Beel just couldn't understand and kept not listening to what MC was trying to explain. "But it's so good MC just add some butter maybe even something spicy and it'll taste just as goo-" Mc knew when it came to beel something big was needed to get him to stop talking about food and well. MC lifts up her shirt and Beel's eyes widen before his whole face heats up and he immediately looks at Mc's eyes to be respectful but the image still burned in his mind. "U-um...what were we talking about?..." He says how flustered

Belphie

He's a brat by nature so like Satan nothing wasn't too hard to start an argument between the two. Belphie wasn't too fond of how proudly MC was speaking of Solomon the shady bastard. He kept denying everything MC said about him because well stop complimenting someone that isn't him! "He's scummy MC I thought someone as smart as you would know that. He has done so many shady things in the past and are you really just going to-" MC about sick and tired of his whining just lifts up their shirt in a 'here fine' way. Belphie's eyes look directly at them and his cheeks definitely darken yet he continues to speak " I've seen those before MC it's not anything new thanks for the view though while I continue to tell you how stupid you are to trust him." MC sighs in annoyance not winning this round.

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can you do Jared X reader where Jared thought that Kim was his imprint/soulmate but he is absolutely masken because when he mets the new girl he imprints. You can decide on the other details

LITERALLY NOBODY FREAKING ASKS FOR JARED CAMERON! PLEASE SHOW THIS BOY SOME LOVE JTS NO FAIR! HES A SILLY GOOFY!

I love her. I love her so much. Here I am, sitting in Emily's for lunch with my pack before we go train. "Jared, we know what it's like. You can stay with her if you want to, but stop saying you imprinted when you haven't." Paul chuckles, throwing a fry at my face. "I truly believe I did." I reply defensively. "You'd know for sure if you did. It wouldn't be, 'I believe'." Paul replies. "Guys, just let the man feel how he feels." Jacob groans, trying to enjoy his meal. "Yes, it would be nice if we could talk about something else." Sam rolls his eyes before taking a bite of his chicken strip.

My heart hurts. I know I imprinted. I love Kim so much. Maybe my bond is too strong for them to handle. I'll just say that. I know what I feel.

Your pov:

"Watch your feet." You hear your friend beside you. You move your arm up to grab another rock. "I'm trying!" You hyperfocus on your hands and refuse to look down at your feet.

You met your friend a few years ago. She's an adventurer and often brings you along with her. This is your first time mountain climbing. This is also your first time being in Washington state. "Dude! You're going to - !" You slip but quickly catch yourself. "Shit." You gasp.

You decide to move your eyes along the beauty of greenery behind you. You can see some of Forks. You two are closer to La Push bit where you guys are, you can't see the beach.

"Y/f/n, I'm getting tired. We need to take a break." You breathe out. Your heart is tired of thumping. You're starting to get a headache. "Here." She says. She moves closer towards you, attaching the clip of the descenders to both of you.

An hour or so later, you are sitting on a stump in the woods, drinking water. "Ready to go back to camp?" She asks. You guys rented a cabin near the reservation. "Yeah, we can. It's starting to get a bit dark." You check the time on your phone. "Want to grab some dinner?" She smiles while picking up all of the gear. "I'll look up places to eat." You reply.

Jared's pov:

"Baby, what's wrong?" Kim asks, kissing all over my cheeks. "Nothing, sweet girl." I smile.

Oh, I feel awful. What if they are right? I didn't imprint. The fact that I'm questioning it scares the hell out of me. I've done everything for Kim, and she has pushed away all she knows about the world to accommodate for a shifter. She knows too much to not be an imprint. This isn't good. I'm not so sure what to do. What do I do?!

Kim finishes her cup of coffee before placing it down and smiling up at me. "Thank you for the food and coffee. Ready to head back?" She checks her smart watch, texting back who I assume to be Emily. "Yes ma'am." I stand up and pull her chair out for her.

"Oh, no. We aren't from here!" I hear giggling. I turn to see two girls. They are standing at the desk talking to two waitresses. "It's crazy to see new faces here in Forks! Out of all of Washington, you travel here. Welcome! I hope it's everything you hoped for."

"Baby?" Kim jumps me out of my nosey eavesdropping. "Sorry, love. I was listening to them. They traveled here. I'm not so sure what's so special about here." I chuckle. Kim giggles, and we begin to walk to the door.

"Y/n, watch it." One girl says, grabbing the other girl's arm, but she still backs up into my side. "Oh, crap! I'm so sorry!" She turns and looks at me.

...................love, future, baby, adventures, butterflies.................

"Jared." Kim pulls on my arm. I look away at the floor. The guilt is eating me alive. I actually imprinted. I'm about to panic. I'm about to actually have a panic attack. "Once again, I'm so sorry! I hope you two have a good day!" She calls out. Kim waves at her with a smile before we reach outside.

"God, what is wrong with you, Jare?" Kim faces me in the parking lot near the truck. "I... I'm fine. Look, I'll take you home. I have some business to take care of with the pack." I huff and slam the driver door shut. I'm so angry with myself. I can't even think straight.

Your pov:

You can't stop thinking of that guy. He has a girlfriend, a fiance, or a wife. You refuse to be a homewrecker. She was so sweet and pretty. You feel like you're just blegh. "He sure was a cutie!" Your friend giggles while taking a bite of her burger. "Yeah, he was." You smile.

Why do you feel so weird??? You have never... your stomach is flipping. You can't eat right now.

You can't feel this way. You are leaving in two days anyway.

Jared's pov:

"Breathe, Cameron." Embry grabs my shoulder. Sam is trying to think about what to do. I can't think I can't breathe. I'm leaning over the counter, gripping.

Your pov:

8:00 pm

"You've got to be kidding me!" Your friend yells in frustration. The car you guys rented just broke down in the reservation. You can't see any houses where you guys are. The last one you saw was miles down.

"Do you know anything about cars?" She turns to you. "Bitch, do I look?-", you guys jump at the sound of knocking on the window. Y/f/n barely rolls down the window. "You need help?" A man's voice asks. "No, sir." You say out of fear. Your friend pushes your knee. "Yes, yes we do, please." She says. Ugh! You don't want to get killed in Washington. "I'm Sam. Not to sound creepy," he chuckles, "I usually walk down the rez with my friends to make sure everything is okay." He says. You see, four other guys come up. You notice they are all shirtless with a tattoo on their arm. You can't see the details because it's getting dark.

You see the guy from the restaurant. Oh, god. You feel better... "y/f/n." You whisper. She turns to you. "The guy at the restaurant." You whisper. She looks up and then unbuckles. You unbuckle as well. "We'll step out." She says. They back up. You grab your bag and feel for the pepper spray, the rape whistle, and the big ass knife. Okay, great. You open the door and step out. You look across the car to see the guy staring right at you. You look away quickly.

You and your friend get comfy on the grass on the side of the road. The guys are waiting on one of them to come back with tools. "You know, it's the people's we rented from job to take care of this." She giggles. "Eh, well, it's best not to pay for towing. I'd let them know tomorrow, though." One of them says. He's leaning on the side of the car with his arms crossed. "What's your name?" You ask. "Paul. Over there is Quil, Jared, and the guy who left to get tools is Embry." He says. For some reason, he keeps glancing at you.

You decided to do something. You stand up and walk over to Jared. "Hey." You awkwardly say. He looks up. You see the tail light of the car illuminate his face just enough to see his smile. "Hey." You take your hand out. "Y/n." He puts his hand in yours. You felt a shock. So much heat expanded through your body. You felt the connection, and it attacked your body, nearly losing balance. "Jared Cameron." He shakes your hand. You can see Quil standing there smirking at him.

Jared's pov:

Standing this close to my actual imprint feels like I'm floating in soothing waters. Is it bad I don't feel the pain of telling Kim earlier? I just feel peaceful, whole, happy.

"Where are you from?" I ask her. "Uhm, I'm from (your home). I leave in two days." Her words shatter my heart. I can't lose her. She can't go.

Embry pulls up in his truck. He stops behind us and steps out. "Got the tools. You girls need anything?" Embry asks. Her friend stands up, dusting herself off. "Honestly, we have a long ass day ahead of us. We are exhausted. Been up since six a.m." She sighs. "We can take you to wherever you guys are staying." I offer. Y/n looks at her friend. Her friend shrugs. "Yeah! That'd be great! Thank you!" She pipes up, but then she thinks. "I will ride with you guys and come back with you, Jared. I'll bring the car back to our camp." She says.

Your pov:

You are squashed in between Jared and your friend. You can feel his bare arm against yours. His muscles, goddamn. He's focused on the roads. "So, Mora Campground?" He asks to be sure. "Yes!" You answer.

Once you get there, your friend hops out. "Thank you, Jared!" She waves and leaves.

Jared backs up and goes back on the road. "So, who was that pretty girl at the restaurant?" You smile. He takes a deep breath in and exhales. "Uh, she is Kim. Was my girlfriend. I broke up with her today. She's a sweet girl. She didn't do anything wrong, I just, uh, didn't want to lead her on." He says uncomfortably. Now you feel bad for asking. "Well, I love the weather here!" You change the subject terribly. He smiles and glances your way.

A week later:

"Oooohhh, Jared texted you again!" She hands you your phone across the couch. You and her share an apartment. You and her work customer service at home. Her mom owns the company.

Hearing his name makes your heart jump. You open it up.

Jared: Are you able to take off for a week?

You: I can two weeks ahead of scheduling. Why so?

Jared: I may or may not want to buy you a ticket for you to come back.

You drop your phone on the couch face down. You turn to your friend. "Bitch..." You breathe out. She jumps up. "What? What?" You pick up your phone again. "Jared wants to fly me back out there and stay for a week." You gulp. She freaks out, jumping up and down and clapping. "YES YES YES!"

You: I don't want you to spend all of that money on me. I am more than willing to, though! Let me buy a ticket.

Jared: no. Let me. Where do you want to stay? Cabin? Hotel? You are more than welcome to stay with Sam and Emily! They'd love to have you and it'd be free. Lol.

You: let me see, love.

Jared: also, can you bring y/f/n? Ateara won't stop talking about her.

Another time skip 2 weeks:

Jared places your bag down on the bed. "I'm so happy Quil finally has a girl. Poor boy doesn't have luck with that." He chuckles. You look up at Jared, who stands above you. His dark brown eyes are calling you. "She really likes him. Also, thank you for everything." You smile and then wrap your arms around his neck. He's taken aback but then wraps his strong around around you. "I'm happy you're here." He whispers. Something really is between you two, and you don't know what it is.

Soft knocks on the door make you two pull away. There's Quil and your friend. "Hey, Sam said there's a bonfire tonight." Quil says. "Okay, bet."

"Bonfire? Fun!" You say and sit on the bed, unpacking your bag. "We sit around the fire, eat good food, play around, and the biggest part is we have the elders talk about our tribes legend." He says. You stop and look up at him. "But that's... I'm not.. I'm an outsider." You stumble your words feeling like you're intruding. Quil and Jared laugh and look at each other. "Don't worry. It's okay with everyone." Jared crosses his arms.

Bonfire:

"Seth Clearwater!" The young man in front of you shakes your hand. Jared stands next to you, never leaving your side. You have been meeting everyone else you don't know. "You hungry?" Jared asks. You look up at him and grab his arm. "I could eat!" You look over and see your girl and Quil making out. Quil seems nervous and not moving his hands much. You can't help but laugh. Jared sees it too and chuckles. "Damn. That was fast." You giggle.

You sit on the lawn chair in between Jared and Sue Clearwater. "It's crazy you came from (your home)! It's amazing to have you here." She smiles.

Billy Black starts speaking. He sounds very intimidating and smart.

Jared's pov:

I can see her listening. Her eyes never leaving Billy. I can't tell if she's taking any of this in. She seems to be in a trance.

She faces me after the stories, and everyone else stands up and talks. Her eyes are a tad bit wide, and she smiles. I melt. My god, her lips. "That was so cool, Jared!" She gasps. "Wanna know something cooler?" Oh god. Time to tell her. She cocks her head slightly and smiles. "Follow me." I stand and grab her hand.

We walk in silence toward the woods. I stop once I get a little far out. "What are we doing?" She giggles. I let her hand go and face her. "Well, the legends.. are true. I am a shifter. Me and all the guys. Sam is alpha." I lay it out. I'm nervous. "Show me." She says blankly. I back away. I take off my shorts. "I have to take off my underwear too..." I awkwardly say. Her eyes look up at the dark sky. I do that, and I shift.

I growl very lightly and step closer to her. She looks at me, and her face is in shock. She doesn't look scared. "So mesmerizing.." she whispers. She lifts her hand and runs it through my fur. "I have questions." She whispers again. I back up, phase back, and get on my legs. I get dressed and jog back to her. "Why are you telling me this? I'm confused." She says.

How do I say this? "Uh, remember imprinting?" I ask her. She slowly nods and then perks up. "Me????? I'm your soulmate?!" She squeels. I chuckles, nodding my head. "But wait, what about Kim?" She frowns. I sigh and rub the back of my neck. "I didn't know what imprinting felt like. I did love her, and so I thought I imprinted. Everyone who did kept telling me that wasn't the case. When I met you at the restaurant, I did. I had to tell her the truth." I look at her face slowly dropping. "I didn't mean to... do that to her.." she holds her stomach. "I feel so guilty. It's my fault." She whispers. "No, it's not like that at all!" I reach for her hand. She jerks back and runs to Emily's. "Shit." I run after her.

Your pov:

You say to yourself that you 'wrecked a relationship. I can't believe I did that.' You hear him behind you calling your name. You hit Emily's and bust through the door. You hope nobody saw because that'd be awkward. You go into the room and sit on the bed. You're out of breath. You can't believe this.

After a few moments, you hear knocks. "I'm sorry, Jared. I have to think for just a moment." You call out. "Y/n, it's Emily." You breathe out a long breath. "Hey Emily." You say, and she opens the door, sitting next to me. "Jared asked me to speak with you." She smiles.

She told you all about her and Sam and the Leah lore. It made you feel a lot better. Now, you want to give Jared a hug. She steps out, and you stand up going out to find him. He's already standing there in the hall. "Jared, I'm so sorry." You say and wrap your arms around him. "It's okay, my love." He holds you. You lean up and kiss him. He kisses you back instantly. You kiss him harder, pulling his body into yours.

He guides you into the room. You shut the door behind him, you guys not letting go or pulling away. You use as much strength as you can to push him against the door. He grunts but pulls away. "Not here. Not like this." He whispers, pushing hair behind your ears. You blush at how that came over you. Like damn girl. You chuckle and sit on the bed.

"I have a whole week before I leave." You sigh. "I don't want to. I want to stay here." You look up at him, fully trusting the bond. This is serious, and there's no other end but with him. Might as well not wait. Plus, being away from him even before you knew did not feel good.

His eyes widen, and he laughs a bit, "Really?!" He asks in disbelief. "Yes!" You smile. He tackles you on the bed, holding you. "I have my forever." He mumbles in your neck. You feel his warm breath.

"Want to go on a date tomorrow?" He looks up at you.

almost a month later:

"Babes, how'd we get here?" Your friend laughs while touching your knee. "Us knowing each other really did well. It worked in favor." You smile at her. She turns to look out in the yard. You turn too and see Jared and Quil roughhousing. "Babe!" You call out. Jared instantly responds to your call, making his way to you. "Yes, babylove?" He leans down on you, his hands holding the arms of the chair to hold him up. You lean in and kiss his lips quickly. "Ready to go home? I still have to unpack a lot of shit." You groan. "Shit, me too." Your friend says, walking inside Quil's house.

He smiles down at you and plants kisses all over your face. "I love you." He says. You grab his face and kiss him roughly. "I love you, too."

[i4bellingham]

hi! if you are taking requests:

could i ask for an angst of jude and the reader getting into a fight which results in the reader leaving the house? but jude gets worried about them?

thank you!!!

i also love your fics so much

I LOVE YOU, I’M SORRY : jude bellingham x reader

cw: cussing, misunderstandings, jude being an asshole in the first half but don’t worry because he redeems himself :P

i need to recover from my writer's block some more, i am not a fan of how this piece turned out 😭

You're not sure if Jude fully understands your argument, or if he does, there is a possibility that he deems it unnecessary to recognize the weight of your worries because he just do not give a single fuck about it.

Instead of trying to see from where you're coming from, he does the opposite and tries to divert the entire conversation happening in a different direction. Point-blank counters, shifting blames and the refusal to look into the bigger picture of what's happening around him becomes his defense mechanism.

Worst of it all? This has been going on for two weeks now, and he's never once acknowledged your worries let alone ease them down. And quite frankly, you're just tired of it all.

You love Jude, that's an irrefutable fact but just because you love him doesn't mean you'll continue staying with him unless something changes. Especially how he treats your current concern in the relationship.

“You’re being ridiculous. She’s part of the team, she treats everybody like that.” Here goes his usual counter attack, rapidly shrugging off your uneasiness just as fast as you've voiced them out.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, you know this conversation with him will end in the same way it had just like yesterday; unresolved and thrown out of the window.

“‘She treats everybody like that’? So she goes to wipe every player’s sweat off their bodies too Jude? Is that it?” You sarcastically ask. “Funny how I’ve never seen her do it once or did she do it in time when she knew I’d arrive?”

Jude looks like he's trying to hold himself from screaming at you to understand his point; a pointless argument one both of you can't win unfortunately, as he too grits his teeth and the inevitable shutting of the television off is drawn as he stands up from the couch.

“I’m done here. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He says before making his way towards the stairs.

“You never want to talk about anything if it comes to her. I don’t know why but you're awfully protective of her Jude.” Your own words bring a sting to your chest. You know you're just pushing him to his limit at this point but recalling all those times since last week that he's evaded any talk about her or your worries that she's crossing a professional line with him, you yourself is barely hanging on a thread from snapping.

Jude stops and whips his entire body to face you. There is a tight frown on his face, brows pulling in a scrunch before a scoff leaves him. He walks back on the first level of the stairs, crossed arms and frowning face.

“Are ya hearin’ yourself right now?” He incredulously asks you. “You’re soundin’ ridiculous with thisㅡ this accusations that you have-”

You stand up from sitting on the couch. “They’re not accusations Jude. Merely something that I noticed since you've refused to talk to her about setting boundaries especially in a professional setting like that.”

“It’s weird to talk about it with her considerin’ she’s not doing anything wrong-”

“Oh so invading my boyfriend’s personal space, being a complete bitch when I’m there and being awfully comfortable with touching you is not wrong!?” You cut him off, the rise and fall of your chest apparent as you spoke from your voice raising. “I’m not even asking you for something big Jude, all I want is for you to settle a boundary with her because as your girlfriend I feel disrespected by her and her actionsㅡ and you're not making me feel any better by taking her fucking side every time we talk. I’m so tired of having this conversation all the time just for my worries to remain unresolved, I’m just so fucking tired of you Jude...”

Swiping off your phone and car keys from the table, you left a stunned Jude at the bottom of the stairs as you drove off and away from your so called home. If he can't get a grip and start acting like how a boyfriend should, then you don't have anything to stay for in this relationship. Not even the love he proclaims he have for you.

ㅡ

You don’t know how long you've been sitting here. With your phone completely shut off and the silence inside the car being your only company, there was nothing else for you to do but wallow in self-pity and self-hatred.

You don't understand why it was so difficult for Jude to have the talk that you've asked him for since last week. Why he was so bothered by the idea of setting a professional boundary with one of the team’s new athletic trainers was beyond you.

He had always hit you with the same lines that she wasn't doing anything wrong, that she's part of the team and that it was awkward to have that kind of talk with her yada yada. Honest to God if you didn't have this much trust on Jude, you're near to thinking and convincing yourself that he's probably cheating, and that thought alone makes you wanna hurl the content of your stomach from tonight's dinner.

You've had countless of talks about him and setting boundaries, you've had multiple fights because of her but never once were your worries ever acknowledged by your own boyfriend. And it pains you more than anything to go through such a situation where you feel like your feelings are being invalidated in the relationship that you try so hard to understand and have patience for.

It wasn't a huge request. You didn't ask him to move the moon for you, fix the climate change or explore the entire ocean floor but to merely establish a limit and an extent to where she can act out in her comfort. But unfortunately things just doesn't work in the way you wanted them too so now you're here, sat inside your car with the heater blasting on in the outskirts of the city alone.

And you stay there for a few more hours just until the sliver of sun peek through in between the mountain ranges. You think you may have dozed off in your seat at some point during the entire night you were there but you don't dwell on the thought for too long, not when you have to drive all the way back in the city to face another dreaded day with the possibility of yet another fight happening.

You purse your lips, recalling the last time that either you or Jude went home and there was no worries for things like this. It seems almost so long ago when the both of you were reveling in each other's presence, finding comfort in one another as you do the most mundane task in existence.

It just feels so nostalgic, almost like you have completely lost whatever comfort you found in your relationship once when it's being challenged right now by factors that shouldn't even be treated as a major threat to your relationship right now. Only if Jude knows how to listen and acknowledge and you to be more patient and level-headed.

You stop by a local cafè where you and Jude used to stop by during the early mornings before, only halting the visits when he gifted you a coffeemaker for Christmas last year. You got yourself yours and Jude’s usual drinks before purchasing a few pastries and treats before you're driving back to your shared home.

You were in the process of locking your car door when the door to your house opened, and came rushing out was Jude still in his pajamas, phone in hand before he's wrapping you in his embrace.

“Where have you been? Do you know how worried I am? I’ve called your phone a million times and you weren't answering. I called your friends thinking you were there with them but they told me that you haven't gone by to visit for an entire week. I drove in the city looking for you for hours and I couldn't find youㅡ Do you know how worried sick I am? Where have you been the entire night Y/N?” He continues, reprimanding you as he guided you back inside the house with a grip over your shoulders. “Have you got your phone with you? You've got it with you haven't you? Why didn't you answer any of my calls-?”

“It was turned off the entire night Jude.”

Jude scoffs at your passive tone of voice, watching as you drop the bag of pastries over the kitchen counter along with his coffee before your walking up the stairs with an obvious sag on your shoulders.

“You could have called me and told me you were safe no? I was worried sick about you.” Jude follows you to your bedroom as you went inside the en suite bathroom to wash up. “Seriously Y/N you should've at least texted me.”

“Right. Apologies, won’t happen next time.” He hears you reply just before the door to the bathroom shut close.

Alone in your shared room, Jude becomes heavily aware of your nonchalance, the thick wall of ice separating you both. He noticed that you never once look him in the eye upon arriving home, opting to fix your gaze on the monochrome walls of the house than to look at his face entirely.

You never pushed him away from touching you, but by the slight adjustments you made while being in his hold, Jude knew he fucked up big time. He knew that he did even last night, the moment you told him that you were tired of him.

Jude isn't sure if you realized the words to leave your lips last night but nonetheless, Jude knows he deserves them. Heck he doesn't even deserve to be in the same house as you right now let alone be in the presence of your tempering patience especially with how badly he had acted for the last two weeks.

He doesn't know where you get the patience for him from but he knows he needs to change and make some adjustments. In order to keep you from walking away from his life, Jude knows he needs to change some things in himself in order to not make the same mistakes again. God knows what will happen to him if he loses you, he doesn't even want to know.

Jude waits patiently as you wash up, picking up some undergarments from your wardrobe before lining it over the bed with one of his oversized jumpers and shorts. He sits by the bed, resting his back against the wooden headboard as he waits for you to finish, fiddling with his phone as he sends a last text to someone before chucking the device on the pillows.

You leave the bathroom with a steamy smoke from your shower, pausing on the doorway to stare at the clothes all laid out for you on the bed and the (most likely) perpetrator of it who sat awkwardly on your side of the bed, mouth slightly open as he softly snored with his arms crossed over his chest.

You took the clothes he prepped for you, turning to change in the bathroom before throwing away your dirtied clothes in the hamper.

You give one last glance at Jude before gently closing the bedroom door behind you as you walk downstairs and into the kitchen. You'd rather be here just in case Jude wakes up on the bed, it would be awkward and a little difficult for you to be in the same room as him right now with no clarity or any sort of proper conversation happening in between the two of you.

You’re not by any means raising your pride up in the ceiling but you certainly are a bit hesitant at the thought of letting Jude talk to you just easy as that after the way he treated you. You'll talk to him yes but he'll have to earn the rights again after being a complete ass for more than two days.

Fetching your pastries and the remaining of your drink, you began munching on your food as you scrolled through your phone. You know you should be taking some rest and sleeping after an entire night out but you couldn't bring yourself to sleep. You think it's not exactly the time for you to sleep when you have your head filled with a magnitude of thoughts about where you'll be picking up your relationship with Jude. You yourself know you'll get zero to none wink of sleep even if you lay down on the soft cushioned couch you have in your living room, you know even that won't suffice and you normally are able to sleep there after a few minutes of laying down. That alone says something.

Speaking of Jude, your boyfriend walks down the stairs with a small frown on his face. He silently takes the stool next to you, letting you have some peace and silent that lasted shortly after you've gotten it.

“Y/N... Love, can we talk?”

You continue scrolling through your phone, not once passing him a glance.

“Oh? I thought you don’t want to talk? You told me that just last night if I recall correctly-”

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean it.”

“Didn’t you?” You scoff.

Jude heaves a deep breath in, trying to calm his nerves from the nonchalance and passiveness that's coming from you. “Can we talk? Please?”

You didn't respond. Not immediately, at least.

You let him sit there beside you with nothing but the sounds coming from your phone serve as the only source of noise from your sudden silence. You let the silence drag on until Jude himself couldn't take it anymore.

“Okay... you don't have to say anything but please listen to me okay?” Still no response. Jude sighs yet again before bracing himself for his explanation. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I acted like a complete arse to you and disregarded your worries in our relationship. As your boyfriend I shouldn't have done what I did, I should've been better. I should've listened to you and done exactly what you asked of me because I don’t want you to worry about anything in this relationship. And I failed to do that. I’ve been a shitty boyfriend to you and you don't deserve that. You don't deserve to be treated in the way that I treated you and I know I can't take back what fuck-ups I did but all I can do now is to make up for it. If you can give me another chance to be a better boyfriend to you, I’ll be better. I will try to be better, for you.”

Jude takes one of your hand, noticing you staring blankly at the screen of your phone and fingers paused midway from scrolling through another tiktok.

“I’m so sorry love, I promise to better. Please forgive me...”

You close your phone off, gaze landing on the apologetic gaze Jude had as he held your hand against his cheek.

“I’m not entirely forgiving you. You hurt me too much-”

“I know love I know, and I'll take what you can give me... If I have to work for your forgiveness I will.”

You slowly nod your head with a soft exhale, watching how Jude’s lips pull up into a smile as he thanks you underneath his breath for countless of times.

Jude takes his phone from his pockets before he slides the device to you, and in the screen is a conversation he's had with the girl whom you're not really fond of. He’s just basically asked her to fuck off of text from the chain of messages she's sent him, and by his rather rude way of wording in his texts which you were about to point out, Jude chimes in.

“I’m planning on talking to her during training too.” He tells you sheepishly as you scroll through the one-sided conversation of his messages with her. “And I want you to be there... as much of an arse move that is, I want you to witness the conversation with her.”

“Jude I just want you to set boundaries with her-”

“And I will.” Jude interrupts you. “I will love, but I just don't want you to overthink things so I want you to be there when I do. This is just one step of me asking for your forgiveness. I still have a long way to go and I’m gonna do them in my own pace to not mess things up but I will work on them, and I will show you that forgiving me won’t be for nothing.”

You wrap both your arms around his neck, burying your face on the crook of his neck as Jude pulls you close to him.

“I’m so sorry again love, for everything.”

“You’re not entirely forgiven but at least you're a step in being forgiven.”

Jude chuckles against your hair, planting a kiss on your temple.

“I know... I know, just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I love you, and I’m really sorry.”

[animalsalvationassociation]

[ PLEASE READ TO THE END ]

Honestly . . . yeah I’m pretty tired. There’s a lot of things going on and at this point I think it’s time to call it. I’ve been really debating about making a post like this for the last few weeks. I think I’m gonna take a break from the Octonauts stuff. As much as I’m enjoying it, it’s also really stressing me out.

NOW BEFORE YOU LEAVE—HEAR ME OUT!!!

I’m not leaving forever, it’ll probably just be a few weeks AT THE MOST. I just need a hard reset. Unfortunately I can’t go much detail as of why, mostly some personal matters. And some of it is literally just the fact that my brain isn’t inspired and the hype I’m trying to give myself to make the content is only stressing me out more.

If you follow me on my other platforms you might see some posts coming out on there. To be specific the art block is just for Octonauts, so far I haven’t had any problems making content for other fandoms and I think that just means I need to work on some personal matters.

Please understand I love all of you and your support means the world to me. We’re already almost to 170 followers which is beyond what I was ever expecting. I cannot say, and I definitely won’t stop saying, how happy I am to have all of you here with me.

I’ve got some vacations coming up so I’m gonna take that time to really reflect on where I want the A.S.A. story to go. Honestly with the amount of attention it has gotten in such a small amount of time I kinda pressured myself to just throw things together as they come up, especially in the asks.

So all and all, I’m gonna take a break, I’ll be back in a few weeks fresh and ready to make content again. But I will still do my best to continue to be apart of the community. Unfortunately a guilty pleasure of mine is hopping on my fav Tumblr tags and just seeing what everyone is up to everyday. And I mean everyday. So if I comment on your posts or you see me popping in every now and then I promise I’m not ditching ya’ll, I’m just trying to stay updated and enjoy all of your creations.

Anyways my lovelies, if you made it this far you definitely get a cookie. 🍪 Have a wonderful day, and please take care of yourselves.

(Also if you’re on Art Fight this year, look me up by my main user and come attack me, I would love to see what ya’ll have up your sleeves! Friendly Fire and Defense are more than welcome, I’ll attack just about anyone!)

[heyiwrotesomethings]

HELLO HOPE UR HAVING A NICE DAY! i would like to request a shinobu x fem!reader(she/her) :) ok so, this is when shinobu is in her past personality and kanae is still alive, reader has a crush on the grumpy shinobu and tries to court her but, shinobu denies all of the reader’s confessions because shes scared to be in a relationship considering the world theyre in. (obv reader doesnt give up but i wouldnt either) fast travel to kanaes death and reader tries to cheer shinobu up but suddenly shinobu just snaps at the reader (due to stress and overwhelmness) and tells reader to leave her alone for good and reader does just that. reader stops with trying to court shinobu and shinobu will lowkey miss the readers shenanigans and shinobu deeply regrets yelling at reader, so shinobu goes to reader and apologizes and they live happily ever after! I HOPE THAT WASNT TOO COMPLICATED! I TRIED TO MAKE IT SIMPLE BUT MY BRAIN IS IMAGINING SO MUCH AND I HAD RO GET THIS ONE OUT 😍 I LOVE ALL OF YOUR FICS AND YOUVE BEEN MY FAV SHINOBU WRITER IN TUMBLR! HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT -⭐️

A Trade of Equal Value

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: I had a pretty good time writing this one (even if I was still working on it at 2am last night lol)! The timeline is also kinda scuffed because I didn’t want to write in the four years between Kanae’s death and where Shinobu is mentally by the time Tanjirou and Co come around, but I still imagine her at the same age she is when the boys are introduced. I also got pretty angsty with Kanae’s death and Shinobu lashing out, but as usual, it turns out alright in the end.I feel like I should also note that Shinobu has a panic attack which I have bracketed with ‘~~~’. Shinobu even gets a little Gomez Addams-y at the end which I think is pretty nice if I do say so myself. Thanks for the request, I hope you like the result! Word Count: 4,906

“Shinobu, wait up!”

Shinobu exhaled audibly and Kanae giggled beside her, hooking her arm with Shinobu’s so that she couldn’t escape the other demon slayer quickly catching up to them.

“Be nice,” Kanae advised her.

“I’m plenty nice.” Shinobu whispered defensively. She enjoyed (Y/n)’s company more than most of the other people she had to deal with on a daily basis, but she was just getting back from a mission that lasted all night and she was too tired to cater to whatever scheme (Y/n) was cooking up this time.

“Shinobu!” (Y/n) caught up to the sisters and hugged Shinobu from behind, “And hello to you too, Kanae-san!”

“Hello, (Y/n)-chan, how was your night?” Kanae asked, nearly smirking as her rosy-cheeked sister attempted to free herself from (Y/n)’s embrace. (Y/n) showed Shinobu mercy by letting her go and walking at her side instead.

“Pretty quiet. Everything went alright on your end?”

“Just fine.” Kanae confirmed.

“Good! So, um, Shinobu,”

Oh gods, here she goes again… Shinobu braced herself.

“There is a street festival going on in downtown Tokyo tomorrow. Want to go check it out with me? As a date? Or not… whatever you are more comfortable with.”

“What a fun idea!” Kanae spoke on Shinobu’s behalf, “She’ll be happy to go with you!”

“Neesan!” Shinobu objected.

“Am I wrong?” Kanae pouted, “would you not like to spend time with (Y/n)? Should I maybe go with her instead? I wouldn’t mind getting out for the day.”

Shinobu turned her head so (Y/n) couldn’t see her face and scowled at Kanae. Never let it be said that Kanae couldn’t be as conniving as she was kind.

Shinobu had met (Y/n) during Final Selection. They had spent most of that hellish week together, quickly forming a rapport that continued even after they made it out of the wisteria forest. They went on missions together often and spent a lot of off time together too.

They grew very close, close enough that Shinobu’s mood would sour when (Y/n) wasn’t around. Close enough that Kanae felt the need to tease her about how close they walked together in the halls. Close enough that (Y/n) had confessed to Shinobu a few weeks ago and was now trying yet another courting attempt.

Shinobu enjoyed spending time with (Y/n), but if they became any closer than they already were and (Y/n) went out for a mission and never came back, Shinobu was afraid of where that would leave her. It was hard enough to lose people she had met in passing, friends, family… she didn’t want to know what it was like to lose a romantic partner too. She had already witnessed such a thing a few months back.

There was a fiancée of one slayer Shinobu had known in passing since she was a Kakushi. She had been sent to clean up a location before another demon was discovered in the area. Woefully ill-equipped to deal with the situation, she had lost her life.

When the slayer who was her betrothed had received the news, he deteriorated over the next three weeks before finally passing away in his bed at the Butterfly Estate. Shinobu had fumed over the loss.

“There was nothing wrong with him!” She had exclaimed heatedly, angry at the situation. She had been unable to find anything physically wrong with the young man in all the tests she had done.

Kanae smiled sympathetically and put her hands on Shinobu’s shoulders as they watched the Kakushi remove the covered body from the infirmary.

“Sometimes there is just no curing a broken heart,” She had replied.

“I’ll go.” Shinobu gave Kanae a warning glare when her lips split into a larger smile, then she turned back to (Y/n), making the girl jump at the intensity of her stare, “But it is not a date.”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and exhaled softly through her nose before giving Shinobu a small shrug and a relaxed smile, “Understood.”

That’s how it always went. (Y/n) sweetly telling Shinobu she loved her with little gifts and proposed outings with intentions clear. It became as normal a part of their relationship as anything else they did together.

Time and time again, Shinobu would deny her, but always kept her close. She would never admit it, never give herself a moment to reflect on it, but every time (Y/n) expressed her interest in courting her, although Shinobu denied her at every turn, she always felt a sense of relief that (Y/n) was still interested in her.

There had been a few occasions where (Y/n) had gotten friendly with other people and put Shinobu on edge. These instances made her feel jealous and more irritable than what was common for the younger of the Kochou sisters, but (Y/n) always came back to her in the end, even if Shinobu had to do a little prodding behind the scenes.

Kanae had noticed one such occasion and gently scolded Shinobu for it.

“If you are not intending to pursue a courtship with (Y/n), you really mustn’t sabotage the potential for her to find someone who wants to do what you will not. That wouldn’t be fair. Don’t keep her heart if you are not going to share yours in return. Regardless of what you decide, you must treat (Y/n) well. Friend or lover. Do you understand, Shinobu?”

To be lectured by Kanae was truly humbling and even embarrassing to an extent. If Kanae actually scolded someone, one would assume they must have really deserved it. Which is why Shinobu grunted a quick, “yes”, with her eyes cast shamefully to the floor before all but stomping away.

So maybe she had gone a bit overboard interfering with (Y/n)’s sparring partner’s recovery training schedule, but in her defense, (Y/n) was her partner first. Even if she had been okay with back to back sessions, Shinobu didn’t want anything less than (Y/n)’s best when they sparred so that meant nameless-sparkly-eyed-touchy-slayer had to find something else to occupy their time.

Turning the corner after exiting Kanae’s room, she found (Y/n) waiting for her. Leaning against the wall with a couple of wooden swords in her hands, she offered one to Shinobu with a inquisitive look.

“Want to let off some steam?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Shinobu managed a small grin at the offer, taking the sword and ignoring the tingles that traveled through her body when their hands touched.

This was what she wanted, the same steadfast compatibility they had when they met in the forest. Nothing scary, just them in their most pure and uncomplicated form. Was that so wrong? Kanae shouldn’t judge Shinobu for wanting this… the only opinions that mattered in this instance were her own and (Y/n)’s, and perhaps that was true to an extent, but Kanae’s wisdom about treating (Y/n)’s heart with care should not have been so easily pushed to the back of Shinobu’s mind… because it would be the last time such advice left Kanae’s lips.

The preparations for Kanae’s funeral had simultaneously happened agonizingly slow and all too fast. The most time Shinobu had to process her sister’s death was probably in those moments holding her beaten and bloodied body waiting for the Kakushi to collect her from the battlefield. She had held her long enough to notice how her skin had gone cold as the sunrise broke over the hills much too late to save the Hashira from her unforgiving fate. The emptiness she felt when the Kakushi finally arrived and gently took Kanae’s weight off of her almost felt worse than the initial death.

But there was no time to dwell on that. There was work to do. Cremation, service, paperwork, becoming the head of the mansion and taking on all of the duties that entailed. Meetings with Oyakata-sama himself and his condolences and hopes for her moving forward. She had already been close to becoming eligible for a Hashira position herself, but she hadn’t thought she would soon be replacing her sister instead of sitting beside her.

~~~

When she could finally be alone, Shinobu collapsed onto the tatami floor of her bedroom and wept, Kanae’s haori tightly wound within her grasp. What would she do? What would she do without her? Her sister, who loved and understood her more than any other, gone with one last, rattling breath that even now echoed within Shinobu’s ears. Her own breathing now was too shallow, her eyes stung and she couldn’t see. Her stomach felt cold and heart twisted so viscously in her chest that she felt physically ill.

Hands suddenly wrapped around her biceps and she tried to pull away, still struggling to breathe. The hands left for but a moment before they returned, fingers touching more cautiously than before. Slowly running up and down her arms to her hands and then back up to shoulders and the back of her neck, continuing the motion repeatedly.

Over time, the static in her ears dissipated and she was able to hear a soft voice, urging her to breath. She suddenly felt so exhausted that she couldn’t keep herself upright and fell forward, but instead of the floor, forehead fell against something more solid, but not hard. The arms wrapped around her and the voice continued to coax her to breathe, now gently swaying her from side to side.

~~~

Shinobu had no idea how much time had passed when she finally had the strength to pull away, seeing (Y/n) looking over her with worry. It made her feel so small and powerless and… and angry.

“Why,” Shinobu rasped sharply, “are you here?”

(Y/n) flinched backward at Shinobu’s tone, swallowing a lump in the back of her throat before answering.

“With everything that happened, I was worried about you. I could hear you from the hall, you scared me.”

“So?” Shinobu spat, trying to get up, but her legs weren’t cooperating. (Y/n) reached forward to help her, “Don’t.” Shinobu quickly rebuffed.

(Y/n)’s hands returned to her lap, tightly clasped. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen you like this before. Please, tell me how I can help.”

“I don’t want your help.” Shinobu growled. “Why, why can’t you just leave me alone? You just can’t take no for an answer, can you?” Shinobu wasn’t yelling, but the harshness of her tone was just as sharp in (Y/n)’s ears. “Help me,” She scoffed, though it sounded more like a whimper in her ears, making her more angry, “unless you can bring the dead back to life, stay the hell away from me.”

“Shinobu, please—“

Shinobu was so full of rage and anguish, her misdirected anger only became more pointed. The lack of control was eating at her, she felt like she was lost on treacherous seas, trying to stay afloat by dragging (Y/n) under the churning black water so that she could maybe get just one full breath without swallowing the salty brine. It would be so easy. The one thing that she could control.

“This isn’t something you can fix! This isn’t a fairy tale where you get the girl by saying a few sappy half-baked sentiments. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want you?”

The words struck (Y/n) deeply, but she tried to power through, “That’s not why I’m here, Shinobu. I swear I’m not expecting anything to change. You’re hurting, and as your friend I—“

“You aren’t my friend!” Shinobu shouted. “Time and time again you ask to court me. Time and time again I refuse you. Your narcissism knows no bounds... The kindness you are attempting to show me is a forgery! A means to the end you keep badgering me for! You are reprehensible, a thorn wedged in my side, I can’t stand you, can’t you see that?! Leave!”

Shinobu’s heavy breathing was deafening in the quiet left behind by her words. Glaring down at (Y/n), she felt no lighter. No weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. In fact, as the sound of silence grew, the air around them only seemed to become thicker.

After stewing in the silence, (Y/n) attempted to speak. Her voice cracked on the first word and with it, Shinobu’s heart. She slowly got to her feet as if she had been physically beaten, avoiding Shinobu’s eyes as she turned away to wipe at her own.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered through a hitched sob that made Shinobu’s blood chill, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt like that.”

Tell her you don’t. Take it all back, hurry. Try to make it better. Don’t let her slip away too. A hurried whisper within Shinobu’s mind pleaded, but she found herself mute, still and rigid as a statue. Her mind was fuzzy, yet somehow working in overdrive, but she appeared to not have the means to do anything about it.

“I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable. It was hard enough asking the first time, I wouldn’t have asked again if Kanae-san,” another choked sob, “if she hadn’t encourage me to keep trying, if she hadn’t sounded so sure that you felt the same, I wouldn’t have bothered you after that...

Even so, I should have noticed how you really felt. I didn’t pay close enough attention, yet I still claimed to love you. I really am the worst, huh?”

Shinobu could see the terrible false smile (Y/n) wore as she slowly slid the door open and shuffled into the hall. The voice in Shinobu’s head screamed at her to move, to speak, to stop (Y/n) from slipping out of the room completely, but she still stood stubbornly frozen.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

The door closed, furthering the chasm between them and casting Shinobu’s room in darkness once more. She could hear (Y/n)’s footsteps fading, but instead of following, she slid back down to the floor in a strange state between wakefulness and unconsciousness. Not quite grasping the gravity of this event until much later when the other girls finally had her eating and sleeping properly again and she had some time to reflect.

(Y/n) had made good on her promise to leave Shinobu alone. When Shinobu had worked up the courage to find her and apologize for all the awful things she said nearly a month ago, the room that was all but officially (Y/n)’s was uniform with the other empty rooms spread across the mansion.

Kiyo had found her standing in the doorway and timidly approached.

“(Y/n)-san told us that she was going to ask the Stone Hashira if he was willing to take on another Tsuguko. Her crow sent us a letter a couple days later. She was accepted. The Kakushi helped relocate her belongings.”

“Oh.” Shinobu softly exclaimed, because what else could she say? It was either that or sink to the floor like a slug and Shinobu wasn’t quite ready to go that route yet.

“But now that you know, you could go talk to her. If you wanted to.” Kiyo cautiously added. She and the other girls may or may not have caught wind of what had happened, but were too nervous to try to interfere before now.

“Thank you, Kiyo. I think I will do just that.”

***

“Himejima-san, please.”

Shinobu couldn’t believe that Gyomei of all people was getting in her way of speaking to (Y/n). The man who had saved her and introduced her to a cultivator had been a father figure to her for years now and to have him standing in her way like he was now stung.

“It is not my decision to make,” Gyomei shook his head, still standing firm, “She does not wish to see you. Why that is, I do not know, but it is the decision she has made and one that I must honor.”

“I need to see her, it’s urgent.” She insisted.

“Is her health failing?”

“No.”

“Does she have a mission?”

“…No.”

“Then I see no reason to yield, young Kochou.” Gyomei shook his head woefully, “But I can tell this is important to you, if you have a message for her, I shall relay it for you if you are comfortable.”

Shinobu stared past Gyomei, looking longingly at the towering fence that enclosed his estate. She honed in on the sound of slayers training beyond the walls, hoping to hear (Y/n)’s voice among the shouts and grunts and clacking practice swords, but heard no such sound in the commotion.

“Can I write it out myself?” She asked Gyomei. He nodded.

“I will allow it… Again, I don’t know what this is about, but take time and care in writing what you want to say. You can send En by when you’ve completed your letter or hand it off to myself.”

“Very well. I shall do that.” With one last look at the tall fence, Shinobu turned to leave and Gyomei spoke up once more.

“Do not get disheartened if you do not get the results you hope for right away. Find a happy medium between patience and persistence and perhaps she will come around.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you.”

As soon as Shinobu got home, she locked herself in her office for hours and every attempted draft of apology could not even begin to touch on all she regretted. Her waste bin was overflowing by the time she had something that didn’t immediately make her want to rip the offending paper in two. Before she could change her mind, she sent En off with the letter and waited anxiously for a reply. Hoping beyond hope they could go back to where they were before. Shinobu needed that familiarity and stability. She craved it. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait terribly long for a reply, but unfortunately it read,

I’m relieved to hear you are in a better place, but just as you have had time to reflect on that night, I have as well.

Your words that night hurt me in a way that I’ve never been hurt before, made worse by the fact that it was you who had said them to me.

Part of me wanted to be furious with you, I thought that I should be, but I wasn’t. I was empathetic to your loss and the new responsibilities that were thrust upon you. But even though I tried to convince myself that you lashed out because of the pressure, I believe there was some truth in what you had said.

If I could go back in time, I would have just kept my feelings to myself to spare us all the trouble. Despite this, I am happy that you hope to patch things up between us.

However, in my reflection, I came to the conclusion that even after all of this, I am still hopelessly in love with you despite everything. In the interest of preserving my heart, and saving you from the discomfort of my affections, I do not think it wise for us to reconnect. At least, not until I manage to get over you. I don’t know how long that will take, but given that not a waking hour passes that I don’t think about you, it probably won’t be any time soon.

I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable to read this, I’m just trying to be honest. Tell the girls I said hi, and please take care of yourself.

Wishing you the best,

(Y/n)

“Wishing you the best?” Shinobu hissed under her breath, the paper crinkling between the harsh pinching of her fingertips. “There is no best of me without you, idiot.”

Shinobu allowed herself time to cry, but not a lot. Gyomei’s words were still on her mind. If she wanted (Y/n) back, she wasn’t going to get her by crying, but now she needed to make a very important choice.

Continue to push for friendship, or confront the romantic feelings that she had fought like hell to keep hidden. Was accepting those feelings and the vulnerability the would bring worse than not having (Y/n) in her life at all?

“Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Shinobu softly pondered the old proverb. Kanae had been a fan of the saying and Shinobu had never really understood the sentiment until now.

Though she was going to fight like hell to be worthy of the love she had lost and reclaim it once more.

***

“Another letter? En, that’s three just today. You don’t have to bend to her every whim.” (Y/n) fussed over the bird, setting her up with fresh water and seed.

“It is important to Shinobu, so it is important to me.” The loyal crow proudly stated, though she was very grateful for (Y/n)’s continued hospitality.

“Just try not to over do it.” (Y/n) sighed and unfurled the letter, quickly catching the pressed flowers within and quietly cursing as bits of the brittle plants flaked off and fell to the floor. She carefully paced the dried flowers on her desk and scanned over the letter, finding it to be another poem. “What is she trying to achieve here? Why is she doing this?”

“To win back your trust, your heart,” En cocked her head left and then right, “Is it not obvious? Should I suggest being more direct?”

“Why does she want my heart so badly all of the sudden?” A bit of irritation slipping into her tone, “Is it something she wants to seal up in a jar? Bet she’d enjoying having it up on a shelf in the lab. Maybe a paper weight on her desk.”

“You humans vex me,” En’s feathers ruffled, “just give each other something shiny and make up.”

“If only it were that simple.” (Y/n) murmured, finishing her curt response to Shinobu’s poem, denying her a visit once again. She then placed the letter beside En. “You can take your time heading back, and if she tries to insist on a fourth delivery today, turn her down for the good of your health.”

En released a low caw that could only be interpreted as a scoff. Promptly scooping up the letter and taking her leave, passing Gyomei in the hallway.

“(Y/n), is all well? You are late for training.”

(Y/n) winced, “I’m so sorry Master. I got distracted.”

“Kochou-san again?”

“Yes…”

“And you still will not see her?” (Y/n)’s silence was answer enough. “Why?”

“I guess when it comes right down to it, I’m scared. Whether it’s me putting my own heart out there, or her actively trying to obtain it, I feel like it will inevitably end the same and I don’t think I could go through that again.”

Gyomei hummed thoughtfully, “I think I understand your concerns. Matters of the heart are certainly not easy. Especially when it has already been hurt before. I’m sure you will make your peace with her soon, but I pray that peace and satisfaction will find you sooner.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Can I expect you to join the rest of your peers for training now?”

“Of course!”

“Wonderful. I expect you to have two boulders beaten down to gravel by nightfall.”

(Y/n)’s shoulders slumped and she suppressed a groan.

“Yes, sir.”

This would be a long day…

***

Shinobu halfheartedly paged through the new medicinal tome that had arrived the day prior. She had been eagerly anticipating its arrival for months, but now with En’s latest return proving she had failed to entice (Y/n) once again, she hardly had the motivation.

She was surprised when Gyomei’s crow, Zekka, came to perch at her window some hours later. She took the letter from his beak and he quickly flew off. He was not expecting a reply, she supposed. She unfurled the textured paper and scanned the punched message which simply read,

The best way to receive what it is you are looking for, is to give something of equal value in return.

Himejima Gyomei

“Really, Himejima-san, is this supposed to be a riddle?” Shinobu shook her head, but a determined spark lit up her eyes and she got to work.

***

(Y/n) slumped to the ground, uncaring that she was resting in a pile of rubble. She had destroyed the boulders just as the sun had sank behind the mountains, but at what cost? Himejima seemed nice, but his training was beyond brutal. If the secret of Stone Breathing was to make one’s arms as heavy and stiff as stone, (Y/n) was surely going to be a Master in no time. Her eyes drooped shut. It wouldn’t be the first time she took a dirt nap after training, but an insistent voice was preventing that.

“Hello, hello, please don’t fall asleep out here, (Y/n). I could probably name ten different reasons why it would be a horrible decision.”

Cold hands prodded at her face and sore arms, making her groan in protest and try to shimmy away.

“If you don’t massage and stretch now, you are going to be completely immobile tomorrow. Which may be helpful actually, at least then you won’t be able to run away from me.”

(Y/n) heard her arm crack and pop, which would have have alarming except it felt like a relief. She cracked opened her eyes, soon blown wide open when she realized who was busy cracking and rotating her aching wrist. If her heart had ever raced when she saw Shinobu (which it did) it was sprinting now. Damn traitorous organ never learned.

“What are you doing here? How are you here?” She whispered, not even because she was pretty sure she was dehydrated, but because it just felt appropriate to whisper.

“Jumped over the fence.” Shinobu answered casually, taking her time cracking (Y/n)’s knuckles and massaging her palm now, “Though I’m sure Himejima-san is well aware of my presence and wouldn’t have minded me using the front gate this time around. And for your first question, I’m here for you.”

“Shinobu, I told you that I—“

“—I have something I want to give you formally. What you decide to do from there is completely your choice. I know I have always asked a lot of you, but please allow me this once more.”

“…Okay.” Even after nearly four months of separation, (Y/n) found herself still unable to deny her. In her mind, this did not bode well for what little progress she thought she had made.

“Thank you.”

Shinobu stoked her thumbs over the palm of (Y/n)’s hand before bringing it to her chest, placing it over her heart and holding it there with both hands.

“Wh-what are you doing?” (Y/n) squeaked, trying to inch her palm higher, somehere above Shinobu’s clavicle and not quite so close to the swell of her chest, but Shinobu held firm.

“Do you feel that?” She asked.

“What am I supposed to be feeling?!”

“My heartbeat, of course. Can’t you feel it? It’s beating rather hard right now.”

It was hard to pay attention to anything other than her own racing heart if she was honest. Besides, a hand to someone’s chest wasn’t the best way to find a pulse. Shinobu of all people should know that.

“Maybe this will help.”

(Y/n) let Shinobu shift their positions around, mostly because she was still stiff and her body was refusing to cooperate with her own wishes. After a bit of maneuvering, she found her cheek resting on Shinobu’s chest instead, a speedy and strong drumbeat pressed against her ear.

“Is that better?” Shinobu asked.

“Why are you doing this?”

“To show you that you are not alone, that this is the power you have over me. My heart is yours, it always has been, but I’m giving it to you formally now.”

“Shinobu, I can’t—“

“I don’t expect you to give yours in return, I know I don’t deserve it yet, but I hope to one day. Will you allow me the honor of courting you. You owe me nothing, but I beg of you to allow me the chance to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“Because losing out on the moments we could have while living together is more frightening to me than death itself. I don’t know how much time either of us has, but I want to spend it all with you.”

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes began to water. A quiet sob shook her shoulders and she felt Shinobu’s arms tighten around her. She was so doomed. Try as she might, her heart was very clear. It belonged to Shinobu, no matter what she decided to do. That didn’t mean she couldn’t make her really work for it though.

“Alright, I accept,” (Y/n) sniffed, “you may court me.”

Shinobu gasped softly then took (Y/n)’s hand from her lap, kissing the back of it while locking eyes with her. The intensity of her stare sent a shiver down (Y/n)’s spine.

“I cannot thank you enough for this opportunity. The same one I had denied you of several times in the past. The goddess my heart is devoted to is a merciful one. How unworthy I am of your blessing.”

“I think you have been reading too much poetry.” (Y/n) spoke in a strained whisper, flustered by Shinobu’s intensity. She had never imagined she could be like this.

“Oh this is only the beginning,” Shinobu declared, a purple flame burning in her eyes more vibrantly than any chemical reaction could produce, “You best prepare yourself.”

[holewithinahole]

Tiptoeing the leyline | Otto Octavius x reader

Summary: Back to your universe, Otto captures you while you're distracted. He notices the marks a certain Dr. Olivia Octavius left on you.

Ao3 Link

Warnings: shameless smut, no genitalia specified (reader), no pronouns specified (reader), orgasm denial, overstimulation, unsafe sex, rough sex, creampie, non-native writer

And yes, I wrote a somewhat sequel to my Olivia fic, after several months. The fixation on Octaviuses is never over, my guy. Again, not beta, I'm not native so very sorry for any weird sentences or mistakes. I'm not 100% happy with it but I'll never be so, enjoy! (I just have to embrace the fact that I'm a slut for them.)

You should have seen it coming. From a mile away, honestly.

It’s easier to convince yourself that you’ve simply been tired. Even someone with super strength and freaky spider powers had to draw the line at multi-dimensional travel and two days of non-stop fighting. Especially when it involved someone as ruthless as Dr. Olivia Octavius. Your imaginary audience could laugh all they want, but you dared anyone to try putting their entire focus on swinging webs and punches to a woman who had, mere hours ago, rocked your world so hard you saw stars. And see stars you certainly did when that bus hit you square in the chest during the battle inside the collider.

Ergo, you blame Olivia.

Your body is sore as fuck, and you're littered with bruises and a nasty bite mark on the nape of your neck. What’s the point of having rapid recovery if you don’t even have time for it? You also blame your inner sense of justice (you were aware of the irony of fucking a supervillain and then talking about justice). Disappearing from your universe for a few days didn’t stop the villains of the week from robbing the poor corner-of-the-street shopkeepers, and the super ones from plotting their evil schemes. No rest for the wicked? What about the brave, the awesome, the work-devoted?

“Am I boring you or something?”

You glance back at Otto. He looks appalled behind his small sunglasses. It’s almost funny.

“Oh no, please keep talking,” you say evenly, “‘gives me more time to come up with an attack plan.”

What’s more difficult to admit to yourself is how totally out of it you are when it comes to anything Octavius-related. You’ve been happy living in your little world of delusion before the mind-altering and deliciously traumatizing altercation with Olivia. But now? Every taunt, every tilt of the head looks like an invitation. Knowing there were alternate universes was pretty mind-altering as well, come to think of it. 

“I’m curious to see how you plan to attack me in your current situation.”

Right. You push against the vibranium shackles holding you hostage in a chair. It was more for show if you were being honest; you doubted you could break free even with hundred-percent strength. Instead, you stare at the dirty walls of Otto’s new lair, trying not to focus too much on the flow of images his shiny actuators brought to the surface.

“Do not bother.” He lets out a bark of a laugh. “You’re completely at my mercy.”

You’ll give it to him though, he has been swift and efficient when he cornered you in a back alley and knocked you unconscious. In your defense, you did fight back against the actuator pinning you against the wall, but he said something and the next second, everything had faded to black. It was something insubstantial, something stupid and stereotypically evil like he’s famous for. Totally not something that made your heart skip a beat.

“I have to say,” he says conversationally, “I’m disappointed by how easy it was to catch you.” With two mechanical arms digging into the ground, he looms over you, the pans of his coat flapping against his naked skin. “You’re usually not that compliant.”

Don’t you fucking dare blush.

You tear your eyes away from his chest. “I was just bored out of my mind. Your tricks are getting old, Otto.”

He chuckles. “It worked in the end, didn’t it? Even if it wasn’t the desired effect.”

“If it wasn’t, why pull the same shit over and over again?”

“For fun.”

It leaves your mouth open dumbly. You scoff. “Failing is not what I’d call fun.”

Otto stares before lowering himself to the ground, soles tapping against the wooden floorboard. You’re trying your damn best not to meet his gaze, even protected behind your mask.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks. “You’re never this… serious.”

It gives you a whiplash. “Uh?”

“Did I break something?” He muses to himself.

You certainly didn’t expect him to notice you were out of it, or care about it for that matter. Perhaps you’ve underestimated the man’s perception.

“All fine and dandy. Thanks for asking, Doc’.” Your tone is way too even to your liking.

You’ve always been a terrible actor and he sees right through your bluff. Which is saying something since he can’t even see your face. You make another attempt at breaking free but it only makes your suit rub against all of your bruises and cuts. Your wince makes the good Doctor raise a questioning eyebrow.

“So, I did hurt you,” he says, disbelieving.

“You kidding, right? You punch like a little girl.” That’s a big lie and also misogynistic.

Fuck, maybe Olivia was right.

You’re suddenly assaulted by a strong smell of damp leather as two fat digits slip underneath the edge of your mask and pull. “Hey! The fuck you think you doing—“

Does anyone grasp the concept of anonymity ‘round here? “Fuck, Doc’, I thought you were a bit more chivalrous than that.”

Otto doesn’t answer, inspecting your face. It’s making you uncomfortable how much he’s staring. Did he expect a model or something?

“I wasn’t expecting this kind of hurting,” he says. You frown, confused, but when he uses one finger on your chin to slowly turn your face away, you realize with horror he’s looking at the beautiful purple claim Olivia left on your neck.

“What—“ you sputter, withdrawing as much as you can. “That’s not what you’re thinking.”

“And what am I thinking, exactly?” Otto asks, evenly.

What is he thinking exactly? He barely reacted to your naked face, not even to gloat at exposing your biggest secret. And what do you want him to be thinking? That you have no game at all? What would be the point? If anything, you should be proud to show him you get any action.

He interrupts your inner monologue: “I wasn’t expecting the reason for your scattered brain to be sex.” You blush bright red. “I thought you had more self-control than that.”

His lips stretches, deliberately slow, displaying rows of straight incisors and sharp canines. “Unless you’ve been fighting an oversized bat.”

It would have been preferable at the moment. “Yes. You guessed it. How smart.”

Otto chuckles. “It probably wasn’t any good if you look this tense.”

“I have a good reason to be tense at the moment,” you hiss.

“I make you feel that way? My, I’m flattered.”

“You wish, Doc’.”

His hand glides on your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat. A large digit presses down on the mark. “Perhaps, I do.”

Your bruised skin burns at the pressure but your mind burns even brighter processing what Otto just admitted; what he could be imagining as he traces the uneven blood crusts left by the sharp teeth of his counterpart. And your silence is even more telling; somehow even more than the quickening of your breathing, your pulse confessing everything to his touch.

“What do you want?” you struggle to say, mouth heavy.

He smiles, almost gently, but his eyes are predatory. You’re not unfamiliar with the look on his face and isn’t that a thrill. With Olivia, you could have used her actuators as an excuse for your actions; not that you had any intention to though. With Otto, however, the shackles are quickly removed and the raised eyebrow he offers looks like an opportunity for flight.

You don’t take it.

There he stands, the reason for sleepless nights, the unhealthy obsession you can’t wrap your mind around. He looks down and it feels intimate, almost natural if you could ignore your surroundings, the sensation of your suit, and the four red eyes watching you closely.

His fingers are back on the bruise, ignoring your question. “Who gave you this?”

You’re about to lie through your teeth when he adds: “No one important, I’m sure?”

Your spit is thick when you swallow. “Self-centered much?”

He laughs. “You don’t have to answer. You’ll forget them soon enough.”

Doubtful, you think. At the very least, you’ll be haunted forever by the juxtaposition of two universes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You’re still frozen in the chair, free but still bound by the desire running rampant under your skin and his long fingers around your neck. He’s not even bothered by your comment; Otto has always been radiating confidence, and you know that if one person could erase Olivia from your mind, even for a moment, it’d be him. Fittingly. Her alternate self with whom you share a deeper bond, a long-term rivalry, a never-ending attraction…

He straightens up, hand leaving your neck and you feel a lot colder. In a smooth movement, he takes off his glasses, and you’re assaulted by the gentleness of his brown eyes. The same eyes you kept seeing alongside Olivia’s green ones.

“I want to erase all of this tension.” You realize he finally answered you when he says: “Now tell me, little spider, what do you want?”

There’s no way around it, is it? You can’t just admit you’ve been chilling in an alternate dimension with his alternate self and that you’ve been thinking about him every single minute spent running away and fighting. You can’t just admit you had the best sex of your life with a women-him who confronted you to the extent of the absurd and frankly unethical feelings you distil for your archenemy. You can’t tell him you’ve been fantasizing about the weight of his body, the strength of his hands, the thrill hidden behind each actuator… The thoughts are too much to bear or explain.

“You.”

The grin he gives you is enough of an acknowledgement.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Broad palms stretch across your back, feeling the dryness of your skin, dipping fingers in the tender joints of your muscles as you sigh. His silence almost feels reverent; a stark contrast with Olivia’s rough handling. She spent her time hovering over you, close but never touching, wallowing in the superiority induced by the distance between you. Otto however seems intent on pressing as much skin as possible to yours, enveloping you completely.

“Your back is surprisingly devoid of scars,” he comments.

Your haughty chuckle dies in your throat, distracted by the warmth of his hand snaking to your abdomen to pull you closer. “I always face my enemies,” you answer after a second or two.

His petting stops. “How brave.” The press of clammy skin and well-worn leather melt away the chill raised by his exploring hands. Not entirely because his breath bounces off the crook of your neck, and it’s so easy to get lost in the clash between warmth and cool. “What does that say about me?”

You understand belatedly the insinuation of your previous statement. “Is it trust?” He taunts, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Hell no,” you fire back, “you’re the last person I could trust.”

It’s a lie; you’ve met far shadier and far more morally reprehensible enemies than Dr. Otto Octavius. “I’m offended.” His fingers are running higher on your torso, leaving chills behind like a powder trail ready to combust. You’re not certain you’ll be able to survive this wildfire. “Killing you would be a waste,” he adds as an afterthought.  

“Yeah, your life would be so boring without me.” You smile, stretching your numb arms.

“Indubitably.” The actuator holding your arms up loosens and your heart tightens at the admission. “Although—“

One fat finger from a hand you’ve, regrettably, forgotten press forcefully on your sex; its outline peaking scandalously through your suit. Your gasp is silent but your whole body tenses up against his chest. “—the same could be said about you.”

You swallow a snarky remark. Anything you say could incriminate you further, and your body already does an amazing job on its own. Thankfully, the Doctor is happy to keep the conversation alive: “Could we call this a truce then?”

You wouldn’t call a quick dirty fuck a truce. It’s a distraction, a wonderfully effective one. “As if!” You scoff. “You’re going to prison after this.”

Another finger joins its lonely mate, rubbing in tandem with the spandex against your pelvis. The suit is designed for comfort and to avoid chaffing despite being skin-tight (which you’ve never been more thankful for at the moment), but it’s not an efficient protection against the softness of his caress. You’ll soon want to rip the offending fabric off to press more forcefully on teasing fingers, but for now, you’ll hang on to the last thread of reason the suit provides you. Who knows if you’re not actually dreaming?

“You’re in no position to promise such things, I’m afraid.” He’s right and there’s nowhere else you’d like to be at the moment.

Otto retrieves his hand. “Hey! Don’t—” Your mouth snaps shut but it’s already too late.

You feel him straightening up, leaving your sweaty back to the cold air of the room. You can’t see him but you hear his chuckle and his actuators rattling.

“I see,” he says, “you’re just desperate.”

“Desperate for what? You?” Better dedicating yourself completely to the monkey business. “I’ve had the best fuck of my life two days ago, I’m not desperate.”

The claw holding your arms up retracts and despite the physical retrieve it offers you, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve played a role a bit too well. The shining eye of the actuator stares directly at your face, and you watch it stretch with dubious eyes— “Such a clever mouth.” – until it pushes you against naked skin, squeezing you back tight against Otto’s body…

“I’ve always thought a good fuck could humble you greatly.”

…and his unmistakable excitement. The remaining slivers of coherence leave you at the vulgarity of his sentence and the tantalizing, unique snap of his hips.

“Always?” Your voice is lost in a whisper.

His breath hitches, you’re almost certain of it. His nose brushes against your shoulder, and a hand snakes back over your abdomen as the actuator retracts, holding you even closer. It’s funny how you already are near losing your mind. Your eyes are open but you barely see, only the dark blur of the metallic beam on which you hold on. You’re completely helpless, bent almost in half by the weight of his body, trembling legs and shaking from anticipation; heady from his admission.

Otto hums and the sound vibrates through you. “Fuck, look at you.”

Desperate for the touch of a madman, two seconds away from panting like a dog from how fast your heart is beating, shameful…

“How could I not desire this?” His digits wander in the ridges of your muscles, the dips of your skin. His breath is hot and moist against your shoulder. “You entice me. I can’t wait to make you beg.”

The actuator fixated on your face moves closer, rotating his head in agreement.

“You’ll never hear me be—“

You startle. Another mechanical arm has taken hold of your suit, tugging before tearing it apart like a sheet of paper. A still coherent voice at the back of your mind fustigates you for ruining two perfectly good suits in less than seventy-two hours; the remaining ninety percent short-circuits. You realize, with no amount of dignity left, that your skin is dripping wet. “Shit.”

“Would you look at that?” You can’t look. You don’t want to look. “How flattering.”

The glide of his hand is disgustingly arousing, and you moan unabashedly when he finally – finally – relents and touches your neglected sex. It’s too good to be normal. Lost in your breathy whines, you think about Olivia and her sweet torture session. Even she hasn’t been able to tease such a strong reaction out of you this quickly. How fucked up are you?

Twice you left your body in the hands of an Octavius for experimentation, and you’re afraid this time will be the one that’ll leave you crawling back for more.

“So close so soon?” Otto tuts. “Disappointing.”

His touch stops altogether. You groan. “As lovely as it sounds to make you come more than once, I do intend on experimenting a little more with you.”

Damned Octavius-es! Loving to hear themselves talk, loving to drag things torturously slow…

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you pant, closing your eyes to gather your thoughts.

“You’re a degenerate, aren’t you?”

He steps away, and you hear the squeaking of leather falling to the ground. You yearn to turn around and watch him in all his half-naked glory. Instead, a metallic arm wraps around your ankle, pushing your legs apart. You feel exposed, the cold air of the warehouse striking your wet skin in an overwhelming contrast. It gets worse when Otto puts a wide palm on the curve of your ass, spreading you and observing the way you part in an embarrassing, squelching noise.

You have no time for a witty comeback: he presses one thick finger into you. You gasp. The intrusion is more surprising than hurting, it distracts you enough from your upending orgasm. His fingers curl inside you, so warm, spreading you open with ease.

He hums pensively. “You feel tight. You’re certain you’re not lying when bragging about your last date?”

A date. You manage not to scoff. “There are other ways to have sex. You’re just old-school.”

Otto chuckles. “More fun for me.”

His mouth is back to your ear, and his affected state is unmistakable. “Let’s see how long you can last before you beg me to fuck your pretty hole.”

The next minutes are excruciating. You lose your voice and all sense of coherency. He fucks you harshly, curling, twisting, scissoring his fingers as you pant hot, condensed air. You could have ignored it (you could have) if he hadn’t been alternating between making sure you were loose for him, and stroking you ‘til you’re leaking enough to use your precum for his mistreatment. And all this time, you were being watched closely by the red eye of his actuator, held tight by two others.

Two delayed orgasms later, and three fingers deep in you, you are near your breaking point. You’ve lost track of time, lost control over your vocal chords and you’re secretly glad you’re not in an apartment right now. The neighbors might have complained.

“Nothing to say?” Otto asks. You can hear his shit-eating grin.

“F-Fuck. No.”

“As you wish.”

He spits directly on your fluttering opening before stuffing four fingers in. You definitely scream this time.

“Otto!” You don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice.

He hums in fake interest. “What is it, love?”

Your heart beats even faster. You hate him for that. He thrusts against your walls. “Oh, fuck!”

“Not even close, darling.”

Your moan sounds devastated. His other hand snakes to your front, stroking you with clever fingers and you feel yourself overflowing. You know you could come from this alone, but your half-delirious brain somehow craves more. You want the press of his soft body on your back again, and his bruising mouth on your neck. Perhaps even his teeth right where Olivia marked you. You want his warm hands on your aching skin, on the map of scars he left on you.

“Now,” he sighs, “what do we—“

“Please.”

His stillness attests to his surprise. You share the sentiment but you’re this close to losing your goddamn mind; you don’t really care anymore except for the chance of feeling him inside you.

“What do you want?” he hisses, stroking you impossibly harder.

“You,” you cry out. Otto disengages with an irritated sound. “Wait!”

He grabs your chin, almost choking you in the process. You realize your cheeks are wet. “I’ll leave you like this, you hear me?” His voice is harsh, raspy. “Now, be very specific, pet.”

“Fuck me!” What a pathetic display you make. “I can’t take this anymore.”

You look directly into the actuator’s eye. It gives you a thrill. “Please, Doctor.”

You register distantly his labored breathing, the slight tremor in his fingers when he releases you to get rid of his trousers. Despite having been thoroughly prepared, the filthy glide of his cock stretches you wider, reaching deeper parts of yourself. Your legs tremble and the only reason you’re not collapsing on the ground is the tight hold his actuators have on you. His arms wrap around your torso, and the furnace of his skin turns you to embers.

“Come on, just give it to me!” Even in your tormenting need, you somehow find it in you to be bossy. “Otto—“

He grabs your face forcefully, turning it towards him. His strong nose is pressed in your right cheek, and the encompassing heat of his breath tickles the corner of your mouth. You want to kiss his plump lips so badly.

“From now on, it’s Doctor Octavius for you.”

The stretch burns from lack of lubrication, but he plunges into you without any concerns. The snap of his hips is so strong you topple forward in a pitiful cry. Otto fucks you harshly, frantically while holding your mouth close to his. He pants through his nose and you respond in kind by moaning loudly. If you had more time, you’d have wished for Olivia to wreck you like this, to have you feel her skin as she fucks you. Her fingers, her actuators, anything to make you feel this full.

“Doc’,” you choke, twisting your neck to partially meet his chapped lips, “harder.”

“You greedy little thing.”

The actuators at your legs disentangle themselves, planting in the ground in a loud crack. The combined strength of Otto’s hips and his mechanical allies pushes you completely against the metal beam. You’re glad, unable to hold yourself upright as you’re assaulted by this indescribable force.  Your screams speak volumes:

“Ah! Ah, shit!”

He’s now groaning against your cheek, sweat gathering on his forehead and running on your skin. The whole ordeal is disgusting and you want more. You need more.

Greedy. You’re so greedy.

In an unconscious movement, your numb hand releases the beam to bury itself in his damp bangs. It elicits a downright animalistic snarl from Otto, so you tug. Hard.

“Fuck,” he hisses. It sounds like pain but his hips shake, losing his rhythm.

The embers he created coil in your abdomen. Your limited movements don’t stop you from pushing against him, chasing the spark that’ll finally ignite you. You mutter disjointed sentences – ‘come on’s, ‘so good’s, and debauched iterations of his name – which he answers with more groans and moans of his own. You cling to him, breathing in the strong essence of leather and sweat, twisting your neck, even more, to meet his lips in an almost kiss, anchoring him closer and deeper until—

“Break down, sweetheart.”

He bites the scream you let out. It’s his words, this final act of stimulation, this echo of another universe, that lights you up. He catches your tears with his lips and you come, powerless against the intensity of the sensation. Otto follows you, pumping his spend inside you for what seems like forever. Your own clings to your trembling skin. You try to regulate your senses, still focused on the twitching of your muscles, on the throbbing length of his cock and his ragged breathing.

The actuators retract and you expect him to do the same but he stays anchored to you. The nuzzling of his nose against your cheek somehow manages to freak you out more than the aftermath of this whole conundrum. Your fingers in his hair relax, scratching his scalp in response to his caresses. Your neck hurts from the unusual position you force it into, but it’s the least of your worries when his mouth is right there.

Sadly, he steps away, slipping out from you in a deafeningly wet noise. Your legs fail you but you hold onto the metal beam, now warm under your touch. The contraction of your muscles has the unfortunate effect of letting his hot cum leek out of you, cascading along your thighs. Otto lets out a contemplative hum.

“You paint a pretty picture, I must say.”

His thumb dips into your flesh, spreading your sensitive entrance as more of him comes out of you.

You huff, straightening up. “Hands off.”

Your suit is in shambles on the ground; you look at it dejectedly. Olivia had the intelligence of divesting you of it, not ripping it to shreds. Men.

“Hard to take me to prison in this state, right?”

You turn to glare at him but you end up gaping at the two actuators throwing Otto’s leather coat on your shoulders.

“Thanks.” You try to summon your usual carefree attitude but you find yourself unable to. You’ve somehow been more easy-going with your life on the line and under the near-psychotic gaze of Olivia than you are now. You wonder what that says about you. “This doesn’t change anything. Next time, I’ll kick your ass so hard they’ll have to drag you to your cell.”

He laughs lowly. “’Sounds promising.”

He’s not insinuating—

You clear your throat, adjusting the coat around you to shield you from the cold seeping into your bones. You feel uneasy being watched so closely by three pairs of eyes. Otto hands you something: the ruffled mask he snatched off before. You take it.

“You know that the purpose of a mask is to hide your face?” you mutter, stuffing it inside one of his pockets.

He shrugs. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“…Sorry, what?”

It’s how you wear the mask that matters? Perhaps it’s better off… sometimes.

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 3

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, non-explicit dubcon, panic attacks, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 6k

ao3 link

Masterlist

The Hinterlands wasn’t the worst place in the world. It was warmer than the snow covered mountain she was relegated to most of the time, so she certainly enjoyed that. She didn’t have to wear layers and layers of fur and thus could actually move properly which was a novelty to her at this point. 

It was quite pretty too. She loved the lakes and rivers when things were calm. 

The bears in the Hinterlands were not her favorite. She always brought someone sturdy to send off after them while she stayed far away from the creatures. 

The demons were certainly unpleasant, but that came with the territory when she was the only person that could close their entrance to this world.

It was the sheer quantity of violent humans running around that really got to her. Templars in all colors and mages and venatori and the carta, half of them fighting both each other and her. 

She’d take a hundred unthinking bears over them. 

Her worst fear was getting captured. 

Of course, she would give the Inquisition up in a second and convert fully to the side of whoever captured her, she knew that much. But that wasn’t something she could recover from in the eyes of her current allies and the last thing she wanted was to get on the bad side of a force as powerful as the Inquisition who wanted her as badly as they did. 

Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. 

In the meantime, they wandered. Cassandra was ready to fight anything, practically begging someone to come up to her. 

That meant being loud and noticeable in a way that was clearly meant to draw attention. 

In the end, they watched Cassandra fight a bear. 

Varric helped, she supposed. He fired off arrows as quickly as his mechanical crossbow allowed him to. 

Rosemary did not help, but then again, what could she do? She wasn’t equipped to fight anything, let alone a bear. 

Cole was up in a tree. When Varric tried to figure out what he was doing, the only response he could pull from him was, “She needs to fight. She needs to know she’s a protector. She doesn’t need my help. I would make it worse, another thing to watch.”

“You’re not a thing, kid,” Varric said as he notched another arrow. 

“She thinks I am.”

“She’s just scared,” Varric tried to reassure him, even as distracted as he was. 

“Yes. Lots of people are scared. I don’t know how to make them stop.”

Despite Cassandra being the one fighting the bear face to face, Varric managed to deal the killing blow with a swift arrow between the ribs. “None of us do.”

They plodded off again after that. 

Her feet were already tired, still unaccustomed to the long treks that being a member of the Inquisition required of her. She wished she had a more sedentary power, or perhaps wished that they could bring the rifts back to her. 

And then, as they stomped along and imagined a world where she didn't have to wander around in bear infested woods, her least favorite thing happened. They found a rift. 

There was something genuinely incredible about them, if you didn’t know how truly dangerous they were. The way it hung in the open sky, a rip in the clear void of the air. The green glow curled at the edges, like it was trying to grab onto the empty air for purchase. 

As soon as they got close enough, its defenses sprung up and all hell broke loose.

Her power didn’t work if she was too far away, so instead, every time they found one, she found the best hiding spot she could and hunkered down, praying her companions would protect her. 

She felt even more exposed than usual. She realized that she’d foolishly forgotten a mage and thus, no one here could cast a protective barrier around her. Likewise, with only one warrior, and a relatively small one at that, she didn’t have a particularly good human shield. 

Varric tried his best, but he was a distance fighter. It wasn’t his fault. 

Cassandra was overwhelmed. One bear was fine, she could focus her attention and do what needed to be done. But here she was too split, with half a dozen demons swarming them. She couldn’t cover Rosemary properly and fight. So she made the choice anyone would. She focused all her attention on the fighting and Rosemary sunk back further behind the rock she’d found that was barely half her size. 

And then Cole looked down at her, making herself small on the floor; he looked at the other two, overwhelmed by demons; and he sprung into action. 

It was mesmerizing to watch. The way he flickered in and out of existence in some sort of cosmic dance, daggers shining in the sun. Each strike was perfectly placed, causing more damage than inelegant swords and spells ever could

He was right. The boy could fight. 

And fight he did. 

Rosemary’s arms rose to cover her head, praying to whatever god these idiots believed in that she’d make it out of this alive. She couldn’t remember what the god’s name was, but she figured she was more likely to respond in this new land so it was worth a shot. 

The chaos began to die down and she peeked out to see a disheveled but alive Varric. 

She rose shakily to her feet, leaning on the rock as she did. 

And then a bright green flickering silhouette appeared in front of her, shaped exactly like a wraith, and she fell back into soft soil.  

Cole drew back into focus out of the green as she breathed unsteady breaths. 

She could see his face like this, from below. It looked unnervingly blank, as it always did. It was like he didn’t know how to paint emotions across it, blank not in a carefully studied way as hers often was, but instead blank in an innocent, unknowing way. 

He just stared down at her, not so much as lifting a hand out to help her up. 

His brows furrowed. “Can you not stand on your own? I thought you just did.”

She stood once more with a sigh. “It’s just polite.”

She raised her hand to the now unprotected rift, focusing on the strange power the fade had implanted into her palm a year ago. 

As she did, the tear in the fade began to close, returning from a green tinged void back to endless clear. 

She flexed her hand as the rift finally sealed itself. It stung a little to close them, leaving a dull ache behind for a few hours after each use. It felt like it had been lasting longer and she worried, not for the first time, that this was doing real damage to her. 

But there was nothing to be done about it. She’d tried to wriggle her way out of this countless times, but it was the one thing they would not budge on. Those rifts needed to be closed, at the expense of her comfort or not. 

“Do they know it hurts?” Cole asked, and she wondered why he didn’t already know the answer to his own question. 

Cassandra scrunched up her nose. “What hurts?”

“Nothing,” she snapped, more ill-tempered than she ever let them see her. 

“The mark,” said Cole. “It burrows into her, aches and rots. The fade isn’t meant to go in a girl, it’s too big for her.”

Cassandra looked like she only mostly understood what he was talking about. “We all have sacrifices we must make to do our part.”

Rosemary did her best to nod amiably, a deep resentment settling in her chest. 

“C’mon Rosie,” Varric said, pulling her to the side. “I’ll see if I can help with that.”

He gave her a salve that didn’t help. She told him it did but made it very clear that she was putting on a false, brave face. 

He gave her a clap on the shoulder and told her she was good as new. 

She was glad Cole didn’t decide to speak up.

They continued plodding along, facing off against a few groups of hostile mages and warriors but no more demons. 

Cole seemed thrilled about the whole ordeal. After fighting a small squadron of mages, he rooted around in one of the corpses’ pockets, clearly looking for something. 

A moment later, he held up a note half covered in blood. “Brothers, tired of fighting. Their hands remember holding each other, their mouths remember smiling. Their cheeks draw up but it never feels the same anymore. He wondered if he was missed when he was struck down, knew he wasn’t. He knew incorrectly,” he announced. “We should give it to him, it wants to be given.”

“If you find who it’s for on the way, you can give it to him then,” she tried to reason with him. 

“He’s behind us. He wonders how his brother fared, terrified he’ll see him in the fight. We killed him. We have to give him the letter.”

“Listen,” she said, turning fully to face him. “If we don’t get moving, more people get hurt. We can deliver letters to grieving family members when people in the Hinterlands aren’t being attacked by demons and corrupted men anymore, alright?”

“Why do you try that on me? I can see inside. It’s for them, a performance. You would never deliver a letter. Their nobility wielded against me, because they want to help.”

It was a miracle Varric and Cassandra seemed as disinterested in these bizarre outbursts as they were. 

She dragged him along, trying to get him to stop saying incriminating things about her. She had to break the instinct to tell him white lies in an attempt to placate him. They were clearly doing more harm than good. 

As they continued along, Cole in a notably worse mood than before, they saw a farm in the distance and she smiled. Finally, some good news. They could acquisition some horses and then she’d be able to rest her feet and not have to walk for miles and miles. 

She walked into the farm house, explained who she was and who she was with, and asked incredibly nicely if they could spare some horses. 

And then they gave them a horse. One horse. For four people. 

Cassandra scoffed at the sight and she silently agreed. If it were just her, she would have stolen more, whether the farmers could spare them or not. But then again, if it had just been her, the one horse would have been fine. 

They took the horse anyway, figuring it was better than nothing. She silently told herself she could run off with it if things got truly dire, abandoning the rest of her party.

She could feel Cole’s eyes on the back of her head as she thought it, an involuntary shiver running through her.  

As they were leaving the farm, horse in tow, a panicked farmer approached the four of them. 

“Please,” he called out to them. “Our druffalo has gone missing. If you see her, could you return her to us? She's our prize animal, we need her.”

Cole’s head whipped around to face the farmer the second they started to speak. 

She’d already begun saying, “we’re incredibly busy,” as his head turned to her, eyes expectant and hopeful. 

The look did nothing to change her mind. 

And then they were off again. They were headed for real civilization this time. She didn’t even know this place had civilization.

Apparently the town was called Redcliffe and they were going to meet mages. It occurred to her for the second time that day that perhaps bringing a mage along would have been prudent. She thought she’d probably blocked that idea out because she could not stand Solas’s smug voice for another week. She’d almost strangled him last time. 

Surely there were other mages in Thedas that were willing to help. She would have taken anyone else. 

She supposed they were going to meet mages now. Maybe one of them loved trudging through the woods and casting protective spells around frightened, incompetent leaders. 

When they got to this town, however, the mages were nowhere to be found. Something about them being taken over. 

At least if the mages were taken over by the enemy, she had templars on her side. This is what they were trained to do, stop rebel mages. 

With no mages to confront, she turned to Varric for some guidance. 

He smiled and said, “Nothing else for it, I guess. Time to go to the tavern.”

She grinned at him, glad she’d brought him along. 

It wasn’t a very big tavern but then again, it wasn’t a very big town. It wasn’t truly small, those sorts of towns didn’t have taverns, just illegal, impossibly strong alcohol being manufactured in someone’s shed. 

Regardless of the size of the tavern, she was glad to be there. It was better than the woods. 

Varric ordered four drinks, handing one to her and Cassandra before turning to Cole. 

“How old are you anyways,” he asked, looking Cole up and down.

Cole looked at him vacantly. “Time passes differently in the fade, I don’t know. This body is twenty. Was twenty. He died.”

Varric nodded, giving Rosemary a pointed look. “Right. You can probably have a beer then. It’ll be good for you, put some hair on that chest.”

“A drink can give me hair?” he asked.

“Not literally. It’s a figure of speech.”

Cassandra eyed the exchange nervously. “I don’t think we should be giving a spirit anything to further lower its inhibitions. He’s already dangerous, the last thing we need is for him to be more unpredictable.”

Rosemary silently agreed, wanting nothing less than for Cole to develop loose lips about things he should be keeping secret.

Varric brushed the concern off. “It’ll be fine, relax a little.”

Cassandra seemed unconvinced. 

“How do I do it?” Cole asked as he looked down the drink.

“Just drink it,” Varric said, and she couldn't help but wonder if he’d ever drunk anything before. 

“But how?”

Varric laughed a big booming laugh and showed the spirit how drinking worked, chugging the whole thing in one fell swoop. 

Cole watched him carefully and then did his best to mimic it. As soon as the liquid entered his mouth he coughed, some of the beer spilling out of his nose.

“Why?” he sputtered out, and Cassandra groaned as Rosemary fought back a laugh.

His head jerked up at that, watching the smile get suppressed off her face in lieu of faux concern.

“You should let it through or your mouth might forget how to smile,” he said, and Varric seemed more concerned by that than he’d been by Cole choking.

“I smile plenty,” she said, the comment effectively souring her mood. 

“No. Real ones.”

She slammed back her drink, wishing Varric had gotten her something stronger.

But she never actually drank, not enough to get anywhere near drunk, it dulled her inhibitions too much. This spirit was really getting to her. 

Varric seemed unphased by the end of the interaction, though she could tell he was still very much interested in Cole. Meanwhile, Cassandra had wandered off. She’d never been one for taverns. 

Varric downed two more drinks before grabbing the pair of them from where they had been sitting, silently, at a table, neither of them doing much of anything. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s find somewhere to sleep.”

Varric found an inn, which she didn’t mind. At least it had real beds inside.

Small town that it was, there were only two rooms available. Rosemary wondered if anyone else was staying here or if they only had two rooms in total. She supposed she’d never find out. 

Varric grabbed Cole, pulling him towards one of the rooms and sending her and Cassandra up to the other with a smile. 

Cassandra insisted she sleep on the floor while Rosemary got the bed. She made sure to protest just enough that it looked like she was putting up a fight while still getting to sleep on the soft mattress.

It was a restful night. At least for her. She happily would have stayed another night but she knew it wasn’t in the cards. 

Even if she pushed for another night, eventually they had to leave Redcliffe and then Rosemary was faced with another thing she hated about the Hinterlands. 

She had to camp. 

It was especially hard to stomach after getting to sleep in a big bed in a temperate climate. 

But they couldn’t stay forever, and so off they went. 

It would have been easier on horseback, but all they had was their lone horse and she couldn’t figure out a way to spin her being the only one riding. 

So they walked, leading a horse behind them through the endless woods and mountains. 

Varric sidled up beside her as they walked. “Did you know he doesn’t sleep?” He nodded his head off in Cole’s direction as he spoke. 

She turned to look at Cole, who was off in his own world, carefully placing one foot exactly in front of the other, almost like he was walking a tightrope. 

“I didn’t,” she said, “but it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Me neither. Was hard to sleep with those owl eyes just staring at me though.”

She giggled. “I’m sure. Cassandra snores but at least I wasn’t being watched.”

“Small mercies.”

Cassandra huffed, coming back from the scouting mission she’d sent herself on. They all knew she just got antsy and needed to move, to feel like she was doing something. No one ever commented on it, allowing her the idiosyncrasy. 

Cole was not privy to this silent agreement. “You never find anything. Searching, scouring, seeking. You have to look, someone has to. Someone has to find nothing so they don’t find something.”

“Can someone shut him up?” Cassandra barked. 

Varric just laughed as Rosemary muttered, “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Nonsense,” Varric announced. “You can’t get mad at the kid for being right.”

“I can get mad at him for whatever I’d like,” she said, and Cole watched her stomp off. 

“She needs to be mad. Being mad is strong. Being wrong isn’t. It’s alright to be wrong sometimes.”

“It sure is, kid,” Varric replied. “I think someone should tell her that. 

“I can do it,” he said, already taking a step towards her.

Varric caught him by the scruff of his jacket. “Better not.”

They got lost on their way back. 

It was a miracle it hadn’t happened before considering how massive this place was. It was bound to happen eventually. 

But now she was pretty sure they were off the edge of what was recorded on the map. She didn’t make any move to stop them, not wanting to argue with Cassandra, who was still leading them confidently forwards. 

When they entered some sort of tunnel in the stone of a mountain, she knew for certain they were in the wrong place. They were meant to be going back home, how could Cassandra honestly think that this tunnel they’d never seen before was the right way?

But insisting they were going the wrong way would be too assertive and she’d rather someone else take the blame when they did realize, even if it took a few more days before they got back. 

“The mind is unsure but the feet keep moving. It can’t be wrong if they keep moving,” Cole said as he stepped out of the arched pathway. 

Cassandra turned to look at him before facing the front once more, barking back at him, “What does that mean?”

“You know, Seeker,” Varric said, “There’s no harm in backtracking a little. The terrain’s getting a little rough. I’m sure this way is fine for you, but some of us need a more familiar path.”

Before Cassandra could respond with anything, whether it would have been in agreement or something cruel directed at the dwarf, an ear piercing shriek sounded from overhead.

And then Rosemary looked up and saw a dragon flying over them. 

She staggered back instantly, taking cover back in the mountain path. Varric and Cassandra followed while Cole just stood there, out in the open, staring up at the dragon. 

“Kid,” Varric called, but he got no response. 

Varric ran out and dragged Cole back to safety. He peeked his head out anyways, his hat almost falling off with how far he needed to tilt his head back to see it. 

“She’s so big! Why can’t I look? She can’t hurt me. If she attacks, I won’t be there anymore.”

Varric chuckled. “Whatever you say, kid. You know, I killed a dragon once.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “My ancestors actually hunted dragons.”

Rosemary was more than content not being able to see the dragon, retreating further into the safety of the mountain. “I didn’t even think they existed. At least not anymore.”

That seemed to upset Cassandra, her brow furrowing. “You did not believe? So you thought the old stories were what? Lies?”

The last thing she wanted was to start an argument with Cassandra. “I don’t know that I thought about it much at all.”

Varric looked back, fingers moving slightly over his crossbow, almost caressing it. “Should I fire a shot as we leave?” he asked. “Say I fought another dragon?” 

Rosemary’s eyes widened but before she could tell him off, Cole said, “They’re all so hungry. That’s why she bites. Too many mouths to feed. No one wanders in anymore. She’s so high!”

His voice swapped effortlessly between the endless narration of others' thoughts to an almost breathy excitement at the dragon. 

If she didn’t hate him so much, it might have been endearing. 

After that, they sorted out how to get back on the right track, although Cassandra did insist upon regaling them with tales of her family's deeds. It seemed an instinct born largely of embarrassment, though she was unsure how being related to dragon killers absolved her of getting them lost. 

At least she hoped they were back on the right track. She supposed she didn’t know. It was less obviously wrong, that was for certain, but she supposed it was no real guarantee. To be honest, she just wanted to find something that would help them to orient themselves on one of the maps. She figured so long as they didn’t run into any more dragons, they should be fine, even if they did take a couple more wrong turns. 

They found no landmarks before the sun began to set and the four of them decided that they’d done enough walking for the day and settled down to camp. 

She preferred this, the smaller campsites without Inquisition troops there. They had more supplies in those bigger camps but she could never shake the sense of unease that came with them. 

Cassandra set up most of the camp, more than happy to do the heavy lifting all on her own. 

Varric was trying to show Cole how to start a fire using a rock and a dagger he’d taken off Cole from wherever he’d been hiding them. The spirit couldn’t quite seem to get the hang of it, although that didn’t stop him from trying. 

It was honestly a surprise that Cole didn’t have any magic, now that she thought about it. She was pretty sure mages got their magic through a connection with the fade, so surely someone who came from the fade should have at least a little magic, certainly enough to start a fire. 

And yet he sat there, smacking the knife into the dark rock. 

He managed to pull sparks a few times, but nothing ever seemed to come of it. 

Rosemary had little to do herself and found herself just watching. 

She also had no clue how to start a fire, but Varric hadn’t offered and so she was content to just watch. 

As Cassandra finished setting up camp, Varric gently took the knife and stone from Cole, sparking it into the little pile of brush he’d formed and almost instantly starting up a small fire. 

Cole drifted over to her as Varric stoked the flame into something more useful. 

“I’m not good at it,” he said, crouching beside where she was sitting on the floor of the forest. 

She shrugged. “Can’t be good at everything.”

“Who’s up for a round of Wicked Grace?” Varric asked as he stood up from the now roaring campfire. 

Cassandra groaned and announced that she would be going to sleep, as they all should, to keep up their strength. 

Rosemary shifted closer to Varric, asking, “How do you play? I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Never heard of Wicked Grace?” he cried in mock offense. “Well, that needs to be fixed immediately. What about you, kid, you want to learn?”

“They all lie face down, never seeing another. Sometimes when he wins he smiles and that they can see. The ace is his favorite, lives in his palm until everything is perfect.”

He laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She gave him a dirty look. “You better not be palming cards in this game, Tethras, or I’ll bring the wrath of the Inquisition on you.”

“You’re beginners, I’ll teach you to cheat later.”

Wicked Grace was not all that difficult. He insisted that the rules were simple because it was the cheating that made it fun. She practiced palming cards as Cole announced everyone's cards in his little riddles. 

Varric was clearly a practiced player, cheating or not. Cole seemed intent on gathering as many face cards from the deck as he could, repeatedly pulling cards from the middle despite Varric saying it was not allowed. Cole responded that this was his version of cheating and that Varric said they had to. 

Varric had just sighed and allowed Cole to grab the Jack he’d held up his sleeve to add to his hand. 

She ended up winning, not through any merit of her own but because she was better at understanding Cole’s card revealing riddles than Varric was. Cole was technically losing but he seemed to be playing his own game. 

She won nothing, with Varric insisting they’d just been playing for fun and that no one should bet anything real while teaching someone to play.

Somehow, she imagined he’d be singing a different tune if he’d won.

“He would,” Cole said. “Fair’s fair, have to pay a tutors fee. You taught us either way, but we only pay if you win?”

“It was just a joke kid,” he said, giving Cole a pat on the back. “Now, you should both get to sleep. Cassandra will kick my ass if you’re both dead on your feet tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep,” Cole said. 

“Do me a favor? Give it a shot anyway.”

Cole nodded, content with the new task he’d been given.

They both went to their bedrolls, Cole just sitting atop his while she tucked into hers and went to bed, the sound of the crackling fire sending her to sleep. 

She woke up first. She usually did, always on alert. 

Varric and Cassandra were still fast asleep. Cassandra tended to wake with the sunrise, immediately setting off to work along with the light. Varric always needed to be dragged out of bed, saying that surely they could afford to relax for a few minutes out of their day. 

Rosemary woke before the sun did. Sneaking hours, she’d called them when she was younger. The term felt juvenile now, but at the very least they were aptly named.

Cole was nowhere near his bedroll at all. She spun around with a yawn, looking for him in the treeline, before seeing him crouched on the ground, a spark flying from his hands.

She blinked a few times, willing the world to come into focus as she forced the sleep out of her eyes. He was sitting there with what she could now recognize as that rock in his hand, the other striking the dagger against it. 

She ambled over to him, sitting beside him and his little pile of dry leaves. 

“Careful,” she said with a yawn. “You’ll set the forest on fire.”

His nose wrinkled up, his eyes fully focused on the task at hand. “I want to learn but it's hard, hard to remember when it's not what I was made to do.”

“Who cares?” she asked, leaning back on her arms to watch him. “Varric can already do it, you don’t need to learn.”

“Varric remembers,” he said. “Everything you say. Everything from me too. He files it away for stories and thoughts and because he cares. But I care and it’s still hard.”

“That’s fine. Unless you decide to take up writing, I think you’ll be fine without them.”

He huffed, dropping the rock and sheathing his knife under his jacket. She noted where it was being hidden, glad that it was stored somewhere and wasn’t some magical weapon he could summon. 

“You don’t understand. You remember too, but it’s because you're scared. It means something.”

She hated this sort of thing, the emotional talk about caring that he always cycled back to. Maybe she did want him to remember more. At least that way they’d have more to talk about. 

She was spared from having to respond by the sun waking from behind the horizon, Cassandra following close behind it. 

She kicked Varric gently as she rose and he groaned. “It’s not even light yet, surely we can sleep at least until we can see.”

Cassandra did not let him and before they knew it, they were off again.

It wasn’t long before they reached familiar land and Rosemary was properly assured that they were back on track. 

Her favorite part of traveling over familiar land was that she was guaranteed to not have to face a single rift. They walked for half a day of steady, uneventful travel before they had returned and no one else so much as tried to take their heads off. 

Bull was at the gates. His face lit up when he saw her and she felt her heart stutter in her chest. 

She couldn’t do this. 

It didn’t matter. She would do it because she had to.

She greeted him with a smile, following him happily into the tavern. 

His Chargers cheered as she walked in and she pushed her hair behind her ear, feigning self-consciousness.

A drink was thrust at her and she took it happily, sipping at it carefully so she wouldn’t be too comfortable, still ready to carefully prepare reactions as needed. 

The other Chargers kept talking to her. She understood that it was so she would feel welcome, but she really wished they would leave her alone.

And Bull was all over her. He almost felt pushy tonight. Or maybe she was tired from the trip, leaning into him a little too hard, not being careful enough about the signals she was sending. 

She kept spying Cole out of the corner of her eyes, watching carefully. No one else ever seemed to see him. She supposed it was probably a spirit thing because he was incredibly conspicuous in his looming. 

She wasn’t sure how long it was before Bull pulled her off to his room. She felt a little bit too far gone considering how little she’d drunk. 

She didn’t act it, her responses coming naturally as could be from years of training. 

She had mostly stopped listening to him, at least actively. He said something to her about how she could stop him. She didn’t listen, would just go along with it all. She knew how this worked. She’d been here before. 

She nodded along. It had long since stopped feeling real, this part of it. She had practiced it endlessly, knew instinctively exactly how she should respond, and did it without so much as having to process it. 

She was pretty sure he wanted to hit her. That was fine too, another thing she’d long since become accustomed to. Plenty of men got off on it, although Bull did not seem like one who wanted her to show how much she hated it. 

She played the wooed maiden, entranced by everything he did, completely overrun by pleasure. 

It was humiliating. She preferred when they let her show she didn’t like it. It made her less embarrassed after, at least.

She barely even recognized when it was over, too far inside of herself. 

She felt herself smiling, her throat a little hoarse, although she couldn’t remember what had caused it. 

She grinned and gave him a kiss between his horns as she said something about wanting to go take a bath 

He let her leave with little protest. He at least allowed her that small dignity

She wandered off in a haze, not moving towards her own room. He might check on her if that was where she went. 

She ended up in a little shack, half exposed to the cold and not nearly dressed enough for it

She had no idea why it had hit her so hard this time. She’d been here a hundred times before, it was a well worn tool of hers. It was stupid for it to remind her of before, when she was small. It wasn’t a fight for survival here. She could reap real rewards from it now. She knew the repercussions of her actions, knew what she stood to gain and how it might fall through and not pan out the way she planned. She chose to do this. What right did she have to feel so cold?

And she was fine. She’d slept with men for protection before, would do it again when she left this place. Would do it more, probably, with less of a bargaining chip than her vital, glowing hand provided her. 

She refused to cry, would not allow it. It was a foolish instinct. Nothing productive would come from it. 

She always felt worse afterwards. Weaker. Not like the put on show of weakness she wore like armour. No, that was real weakness, a refusal to do what needed to be done and be able to be content with it. 

Warriors didn’t cry when they killed nor when they were injured. Mages did not cry when their magic stung, ripping into people as it tore themselves apart, just a little. What right did she have?

“They do cry,” said a voice beside her, and she looked up at Cole from the floor. 

She hadn’t even realized she’d sunk to the floor, too lost in her thoughts to take in anything around her. 

He dropped to the ground beside her, something heavy and woolen being wrapped around her shoulders as he did. 

She hadn’t realized she was shaking until the warmth began to set in. Even as the cold faded away, leaving her bones, the shaking didn’t stop. She didn’t know how to make it stop. 

“I can get you something,” he said. “A hot drink, warm you from the inside. That’s where the shaking comes from. I can’t take it away but maybe the warmth will make it less.”

He went to stand up and she grabbed his arm, keeping him on the ground with her. 

She rested her head on his shoulder as he settled back down, furious at herself for being comforted by him. 

Furious at herself for needing to be comforted at all. 

He shifted nervously beneath her for a while before settling down, his hand sliding over to give her arm a squeeze. 

She wondered whose head he’d pulled that idea of comfort from. 

But still, for some impossible to understand reason, she was content sitting there beside him, feeling numb no matter how long the blanket sat around her shoulders.

And then the sun was shining through a broken roof, the morning having come after she’d slipped unknowingly out of consciousness. 

When she woke up she was alone, surrounded by blankets with a pile of dried leaves and a familiar rock lying a few feet from her.

[immeasurablesaladagere]

do u think u could right a fic about cg!house finding regressor!wilson small at work please??:00 thank u!!!

Here you go my friend!

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Word Count: 1138

Summery: House crashes Wilson's office during an overnight shift only to find that Wilson has been teetering on the edge of regressing. House gives him the nudge he needs and they make do with a bedtime routine in the hospital.

-----

House threw open the door to Wilson’s office. “Honey, I’m home!”

Wilson jumped in his chair and clutched at his chest. “Jesus, House! You scared the crap out of me! What are you doing in here?”

He dropped down into the other chair and kicked his feet up onto the desk. “Oh, stop being dramatic. You’re not allowed to have a heart-attack on me, I came here to get away from dying-patient-duty.”

“You’re ditching your night-shift?” Wilson asked, like a disapproving mother about to take away his video games for cutting class. 

House rolled his eyes and snagged a trinket bobble-head from the desk. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of nurses. Unless, of course, you’re saying the nurses are incompetent.”

Wilson sputtered. “I— Wha—? No. Just— Whatever. I’ve got work to do.” 

“Yes, that was the point. I wouldn’t have come to see you if you weren’t here.” He said, “What, I can’t see my best friend, Wilson?”

Wilson didn’t engage him any further than a disinterested hum, and rubbed at his eyes with his fist before returning to his paperwork; most likely patient-related and why he was also taking a night shift at all. House cocked an eyebrow. Normally Wilson would banter with him for at least a little longer than that. It was only 1:30 AM, it wasn’t late enough for him to be as tired as he looked; all wound up and unfocused.

House gave the bobble-head an absent flick and watched Wilson intently as he flipped through the patient’s folder. Tight posture, shaky movements, eye-rubbing with his fists, speech avoidance. To any normal person, all mere symptoms of physical exhaustion and normal enough, but House knew better than that. 

“You’re doing that thing.” 

Wilson blinked, delayed, and looked up at him. “…What thing?” He asked. His tone was irritated, but voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“That thing. You’re regressing, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Wilson was sluggish even for an unplanned overnight stay at the office, and even though he was pretending to work, House doubted he was actually processing any of it. His eyes were staring right through his desk instead of at the page.

“What? No, I—“ Wilson cleared his throat and his voice returned to normal, “I’m not.”

“Uh huh. And you tell me that I repress my feelings. That’s pretty hypocritical, y’know.”

“I’m not regressed, House. I’ve got a job to do.” He insisted, and stubbornly returned to the file.

House flicked the bobble-head again. “I didn’t say you were regressed, I said you were regressing. There is a difference, but I don’t think toddlers learn that for at least a few more years so I’ll give you a pass.” 

He could feel Wilson glaring into the side of his head, but he elected to ignore it. After all, indulging children in tantrums only encouraged their behaviour, and he wouldn’t want that. He would just have to wait for Wilson to crack, because he always did. Given his defensiveness, he was probably trying to ignore the feeling before and House pestering him about it was only pushing him towards an inevitable drop. 

And just like he expected, it only took fifteen minutes for Wilson to give in, dropping his head to his desk with a disgruntled whine. House grabbed the phone and dialled the nurses station.

“Hello? This is Doctor Greg House. Doctor Wilson will be unable to oversee his patient tonight, he seems to have come down with the flu.” Wilson looked up at him with a pathetic attempt at a glare that turned out to be more of a pout. “Real nasty stuff, don’t ask. Have his patient reassigned to an on-call oncologist, thanks.” He hung up.

“Houssse…” Wilson whined.

“Wilsoonnn…” House whined back. “There. You’re officially cleared for the night, so how about we get ready to sleep now, hm? No offence kiddo, but you look pretty tired.”

“But… I wan’ed to get stuff done…” He mumbled, then shrunk down in his chair a bit more. “…an’ we can’t do bedtime here…” Wilson was almost inaudible, and House knew it would only be a matter of time before all he would be getting was head shakes and sounds from him. Wilson was right, to an extent. Even though House was skipping watching over the patient directly he couldn’t leave the hospital entirely, and Wilson couldn’t get home on his own, so they would just have to improvise something.

“Oh sure we can. We don’t have your jammies, but you can change out of your dress shirt and just wear your sweater. That’s pretty soft still, right?” 

Wilson shrugged. “Mm.”

“And while you do that, ol’ House will go down to the cafeteria and find you a night snack and you can sleep on the couch.”

“…Cookie?” Wilson asked softly, sleepy eyes hopeful and round like a baby deer, disgustingly sweet. How did he do that?

House chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do. Get settled while I’m gone and see if you can find a book for me to read to you. I’ll be right back.”

He got up and hobbled down to the cafeteria. They stayed open to staff until three in the morning, which meant that he was easily able to place an order with the tired and disgruntled-looking cook for a coffee cup of warm milk and a package of digestive cookies. For his troubles he got a confused look from the employee, like he’d never heard of the concept of milk and cookies before bed, but it was delivered quickly nonetheless.

With his order in hand House made his way upstairs, stopping by a linen closet on the way back to grab a pillow and blanket. The balancing act was precarious, but he managed to get back to Wilson’s office without any spillage.

When he opened the door Wilson was sitting curled up on the couch, dress-shirt discarded from underneath his swearer, head lolled lazily on his knees, and a book sitting next to him. He looked ready to fall asleep at any second, but he perked up slightly when House walked in.

“Your cookies, and a cup of milk.” He set them down on the side table and dropped the blanket and pillow down on the free space on the couch, and sat down on the coffee table.

Wilson fumbled with the package of cookies for a moment before managing to tear them open, but once he did he ate them quickly, holding each one with two hands like a squirrel. Once he was finished his snack he pulled up the blanket around himself and wordlessly handed House the book he had chosen.

He took it and examined the cover. Charlotte’s Web. A very Wilson book.

“Good choice. I like this one too.” He said, and Wilson smiled sleepily, shuffling deeper into the cushions. “Chapter One: Before Breakfast…”

[emoticonheart]

Do you have any more hyperburp scenarios? Please I am BEGGING 🙏

i'm not very creative when it comes to these things, but i'll try my best!!

of course, there's the classic hyperburp stuff: earthquakes, shattered glass, cracked floors/walls/ceilings, etc. these all come with the territory, but i still felt like i should at least mention them hahaha

but now onto the more specific stuff

- random one, but someone's cleaning up a room or packing things to move or what have you. there's something on the top shelf that they need to get down but they can't reach it. they're too lazy to get a ladder, so they instead let out a burp powerful enough to shake the item loose, and they catch it before it falls to the floor. kinda a silly idea but that's why i like it so much hahaha

- OBSESSED with burps that overpower things that shouldn't be overpowered. for example, someone in the nosebleeds of a concert. the music is blaring, the bass is pumping, and you can't even hear the person standing next to you unless they're practically screaming directly in your ear. however, right during the most exciting part of the show, someone accidentally lets out a burp so loud that it cuts through all the chaos with perfect clarity, and the band on stage is forced to stop playing because no one can hear them play over the noise.

- also love the... "windy" aspect of hyperburps, for lack of a better word. for example, someone is walking home alone at night when a mugger or something approaches them and tries to attack. as an act of self defense, they let out a burp so powerful that it creates a strong gust of wind, blowing them back on their feet. no matter how hard they try to walk forward, they're immediately pushed back by this burp. eventually, they become so tired that their legs give up, and the burp blows them clear down the street.

- hyperburps don't always have to be about the power, though, they can be about length, too. like someone leaning back after finishing their last plate at a buffet and casually opening their mouth and letting out a semi decent burp. but then it just keeps going. and going. and going. and going and going and going. everyone can't help but stare as the burp continues on, not showing any signs of stopping. this goes on for a solid few minutes, if not more, and the person letting it rip couldn't give less of a fuck because it feels absolutely amazing to get all this air out.

- hyperburp talking... someone letting out an impossibly long burp (like the one described above) but instead of just letting it go uninterrupted, they just. talk through it. and not just a couple words. no, they'll have a full on back and forth conversation all while talking through one simultaneous burp. jesus that... is so hot to me.

anyways, that's all i can think of for now. i hope this is what you were looking for!! if not, please feel free to send another ask!!

and, sorry for the self promo, but if you're looking for stories with hyperburps, i've written a couple!! if you're interested, there's my first impressions series or crashing the party. no pressure though!!

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part One

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. A little mention of blood and fighting.

A/N: So I changed a few aspects of the Thread of Fate myth to better fit my narrative. I hope you like it! This is just an AU but I couldn’t help myself. I’m a sucker for soulmates au. :3 Originally I thought of keeping this a one-shot but it got away from me. Woops.

Also I am now taking requests so go ahead and send me stuff. You can find my rules here. Please send me stuff to write!

The first time she felt that tug was when her life was in danger.

The Northern Water Tribe was under attack and there was chaos everywhere. As one of the healers, Orora’s task had been to run through the battle field, find anyone hurt and heal them.

It was madness wherever she ran. The Fire Nation had managed to breach their defenses and many water tribe warriors were facing off against them one on one. She had managed to dodge as much of the fighting as she could, and just do her job, yet it didn’t seem to be enough. With every soldier she healed two more would take his place. Exhaustion was setting into her bones now, and she had stumbled on her feet more then once. But there was no time to stop. No time to rest. 

The water bender leaned against a wall of an abandoned building as she tried to catch her breath. She had been healing since the beginning of the siege, and was starting to grow tired. Lifting her water skin, she quickly emptied it onto the floor, before moving to bend fresh clean water from a nearby canal. The blood on her hands didn’t bother her at all. She had started off with wrapping bindings around her palm but they had gotten soaked rather quickly, prompting her to take them off. Her eyes flickered to the string tied around her little finger. Earlier Orora had felt it tighten, but only slightly. A rather strange sensation since it had never done so before. There was no time to think on it, as she spotted another water tribe warrior clutching his burnt arm and ran to help him.

Once done, she helped him get to his feet while giving him directions to the nearest safe point, Orora turned to move on when she was met with a horrifying sight.

Three Fire Nation soldiers had several healers and wounded water tribe warriors surrounded. One of the firebenders moved to grab a young healer, probably to take her captive. The young woman struggled and screamed, trying to get away.

The terrified look in her eyes, and the desperation with which she fought against her attacker. The cold cruel laughter that came from behind that horrible mask of the firebender. The sounds of fighting around her, screams of her people dying or fighting.

Orora snapped.

With a ferocious scream she threw her arms forward, her movements precise yet fluid. From a nearby canal, several sharp icicles rose and flew towards the Fire Nation soldier, pinning him to the nearest wall. The girl he had been holding, quickly scrambled away as the remaining soldiers turned their attention to her.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she turned her icy gaze towards her opponents. They moved to attack her simultaneously, but she quickly rolled out of the way. Still crouching, she pulled water from the canal once more, this time forming twin icicles in her hands. Jumping to her feet, she was quick to stab one of the soldiers in the shoulder, while throwing the other makeshift weapon at the third firebender, just as he threw a fireball at her.

Throwing her arm up, Orora managed to build a thin wall of ice to stop the fireball from hitting her, but she underestimated the strength of the man’s powerful blast and the wall erupted, throwing her back several feet.

Landing on the ground with a grunt, Orora groaned as she felt her entire body throb. The last firebender had managed to dodge her attack and was now making his way towards her. She tried her best to rise to her feet, and was about to retaliate when the world went red.

She stared around in horror as the very moon in the sky turned as red as the blood that coated her parka and hands from her previous healing. The firebender seemed to be surprised at the sudden turn of events as well. But just as soon as the world had turned red, it was back to normal. The colors returned and the moon shone down on them with all her beauty and grace.

Waking from her shock like state, she turned to face her attacker and threw a disk of ice at him. He seemed to break from his trance as well as he was quick to step out of the way of her attack and kick a flame in her direction. The two of them exchanged a few more blows before the world turned dark.

“Wh-?” Raising her gaze to the sky, her eyes widened in horror when she saw that the moon’s light had gone out. It felt as if something within her had been snuffed out. And when she threw her hand out to throw another icicle at the firebender nothing happened.

She barely had time to register the loss of her bending when the firebender, quick to overpower her, gripped her firmly by the front of her parka. Orora did her best to fight him off, kicking her legs as much as she could, but he threw her against a nearby wall, knocking the very wind out of her.

The young girl laid there, winded. The comb that had held her hair back in a bun had come loose, causing her hair to fall around her in messy dark brown waves. The last of her strength seemed to have left her as she watched the firebender approach menacingly, raising a hand with a bright flame burning in his palm. Her vision began to fade, and her head felt heavy as she allowed her body to go limp, fingers trembling and aching from the uncountable number of times she had used to heal others.

What happened next was a bit of a blur, but Orora swore that she saw fire blasting at the soldier about to attack her, knocking him aside and saving her life. Before the darkness claimed her, she managed to see something or rather someone.

A figure - dressed in white - with a shadow - on the side of their face.

And a color. A warm gold.

Then everything went dark.

Later, when she was recovering in one of the healing huts, Orora recalled what had happened. One thing she was sure she felt was the sharp tug on the little finger of her right hand. Where the string connecting her to her soulmate was tied.

The girl frowned to herself.

That couldn’t be right. Her soulmate couldn’t be someone from the Fire Nation.

Could it?

                                           --------------------------

The minute he had seen Zhao run after killing the moon spirit, Zuko had wasted no time going after him. The world had gone dark around him, the moon losing its light once the spirit had died. But that didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was him escaping and getting revenge on Zhao for trying to kill him.

He lost sight of the older firebender as he turned a corner, but despite his injuries Zuko was determined to find him. As he jumped from one roof of a hut to another, he was met with a sight that had him stopping in his tracks.

A Fire Nation soldier stood over the prone figure of a young girl. It didn’t look like she was about to put up a fight, as the fireball burned hot and bright in the soldier’s hand.

Whatever had happened, and whatever would happen, did not register to Zuko as something inside him, from the very depths of his subconscious mind and the deepest part of his heart, caused him to react, prompting him to do what he did next.

His hand lifted, almost of it’s own accord, and threw a ball of fire in the direction of the soldier. The ammunition met its mark, as the other firebender barely had time to dodge the fire, before Zuko jumped down and kicked him in the face, knocking him out.

He stood there a moment, standing a foot or two away from the fallen water tribe girl. Zuko turned his face just in time to see the girl’s blue eyes disappear behind closed lids as she fainted. A tug and slight pinching sensation at his right hand had the young prince frowning, but before he could give it another thought, he spotted Zhao running along a rampart.

Zuko, with a backward glance at the girl, gave chase.

[the-unrelated-theorist]

Noble Vs. Ignoble Bosses

Please note that I am only referencing UTY to highlight my train of thought. I am NOT trying to suggest any connections between UTY and UTDR.

I try not to draw too heavily from AU's, but I noticed a pattern in UTY that made me realize something about UTDR. So, in UTY, almost all of the bosses become op simply to defend their own pride:

Decibat fights us to shut us up so he can go back to sleep. We don't even meet him in Genocide.

Dalv has some hidden power that we never see- he says at the end of a Pacifist that he "held back," which would make us think he would be difficult in Genocide, but he's not. He just assumes he's imagining us and the whole battle plays out exactly the same as in Pacifist.

El Bailador isn't even trying to fight, he just wants to dance, and we get hurt in the process. He doesn't appear in Genocide; presumably, he fled with the other monsters.

The Feisty Four only attack in Pacifist/Neutral because they're mad at Star and taking it out on you. We never even see them in Geno.

Starlo is difficult in Pacifist because he's defending his wounded ego, he's mad at himself but taking it out on you, but we don't even get a real battle in Genocide.

Axis is always following the instructions programmed into him by a monster with a deep-seated hatred of humans.

Ceroba is ridiculously hard in Pacifist because she loathes herself and is taking it out on you, but doesn't even get a proper second phase in Geno.

In all of these cases, the only one they are protecting in Pacifist is themselves (except Axis, who is strictly following programming). When it comes down to facing a Genocidal murderer, they just can't muster enough fighting spirit to do much of anything. Heck, Ceroba is only difficult in Geno because of revenge and pure rage. She says she's protecting monsters from us, but the only real reason she's fighting is because she's pissed at us for killing Starlo.

And... we actually see a similar pattern in UTDR:

Toriel fights us under the pretense of "protecting" us (which never made much sense to me, tbh), and she can muster almost no fighting spirit. It's very difficult to force her to kill you. And we one-hit her in Geno, she does no damage, she has no defense.

Maddie is semi-difficult in Pacifist/Neutral because they claim to be taking revenge for their cousin, but she can't even remember their name, and she flees as soon as Blookie starts crying on her. In Geno, Maddie stops caring about their cousin as soon as they merge with their dummy and become Gladdie. We don't even get a proper Maddie fight in Geno.

Muffet is semi-difficult even after a couple of playthrus, and what's her reasoning? Partly to save the spiders, but her motivation is mostly money- she was paid to kill us. She doesn't give a fig about other monsters at all, just spiders. We don't even encounter Muffet in Geno.

Mettaton. What's his reason for fighting us in Pacifist/Neutral? Purely selfish: he wants to be the star, not just in the Underground, but on the surface. Killing us and giving our SOUL to Asgore is just his way of accomplishing that. He doesn't give up until: a) we blow his arms and legs off so that he can't be much of a star at all anymore; and b) he gets a call from Blookie. Remembering what actually matters in life is what makes him end the fight. And in Geno, MTT becomes a literal one-hit wonder. When he has to fight to try to SAVE the world, he just isn't cut out for the job.

Asgore. Yeah, he puts up a fight in Neutral. He doesn't want to, tho. He's tired of fighting. He's tired of killing. He doesn't really want to go to war against humanity on the surface. So we can beat him. And in Geno? Where tf was he when his entire kingdom was being decimated??? We get to the throne room and he just offers us tea!

Flowey/Asriel, doesn't matter what name he goes by, every time we fight him, he's trying to defend his position as a wannabe god and keep playing with Chara forever. He fights because he has nothing left in the world to live for. He fights because that's the only thing he can still feel, the rage and the joy of killing. As soon as we remove that feeling from Asriel, he becomes a child's ghost, and then back to a flower, but a helpless and innocent one that can't fight at all anymore.

Lancer's first battle is the only time he poses any kind of a threat, because he's fighting for the right to become "son of the month." (And even I haven't ever died to him.) He's really not a threat in the fight against him and Susie, and he starts missing in the battle between him and Susie. He was never really out to hurt us at all.

Clover isn't too difficult because she's basically just fighting with herself and we got in the middle of it.

K. Round is never a threat, either, because they never wanted to fight, they were forced into it.

Susie (when we fight her alongside Lancer) is about as difficult as one would expect by the time the fight happens. She's fighting to maintain her persona as a bully and a bad person. In all actuality, tho... she's not as tough as we would expect from someone who keeps threatening to bite people's faces off.

Jevil is clinically insane, fighting and killing for the sheer fun of it, and is crazy hard.

Spade King is difficult, and his motivation is purely selfish. He doesn't care about his people- I mean, he wanted to throw his own son off a 5-story roof! He only cares about the Knight that put him into power, about maintaining that power status, and about revenge against the Lightners that sealed him away and never returned. His difficulty in battle is fueled by rage, revenge, and a lust for power.

Sweet Cap'n Cakes claim to be on a crusade, but they really only seem to be interested in having fun and making music without restrictions. Their battle is only difficult because all three of them attack at pretty much the same time and cannot be killed. Getting all of them to dance at the same time ends the battle. Their shop in the city disappears completely in a Snowgrave.

Rouxls is... um, can we even call that a battle? You know what, let's just not even try to analyze him right now....

Spamton. His only reason for fighting, in either Normal or Snowgrave, is to become a [[BIG SHOT]]. And we know how difficult Spammy is. In reality, he's no harder in Snowgrave than in a Normal Route. It just seems harder because there's only one hero character to fight him with.

There are only 3 characters between UTY and UTDR that are more difficult in a No Mercy route than in a Normal route:

Martlet is the last boss that is highly unlikely to kill you at all in Pacifist/Neutral. She turns into sans of UTY in a Geno- and that's her second battle. She's pretty OP when we encounter her in Snowdin, too.

Undyne is difficult enough in Pacifist/Neutral, but we have the option to flee. Her reasoning is that, since she is the Captain of the Royal Guard and Monsterkind's Hero, it is her duty to take our SOUL. But in Genocide, she changes completely. Her Determination, which causes her to melt in a Neutral, suddenly gives her the power to completely transform into a god-like character. And why? Because she is the only thing that stands between us and the world. Because she can see that we aren't just a human- we're some kind of demon that will destroy everything. She's not just fighting for monsters, but for humans, as well.

sans fights us for the same reason, albeit far too late to save the monsters. But he realizes that we will tear down the rest of the world if we keep going, and something inside him decides that he can't allow that. We actually don't know why he suddenly decides to care so much, but he does. He uses every ability he has, from karma, to Gaster blasters, to bone attacks, to teleportation, to even sleeping, just to make us quit. Because he knows we'll kill Asgore. And then there will be nothing to keep us from destroying the rest of the world. We NEVER fight sans in a Pacifist/Neutral, only in Geno. So this weird little guy with only 1 HP left to his name stands up to us, knowing full well that one day we will kill him, but he is literally the ONLY thing left to stop us from destroying the entire world. He may be too late, but when he finally steps up, it's for the right reason. There is no more selfishness in his battle than there is in Undyne's. Both sans and Undyne have no interest in personal gain or glory, but in saving the world.

And then there are 3 anomalies, all of them in UTDR:

Berdly is, to my knowledge, the only character to be no more and no less difficult in Snowgrave than in Normal. (Well, maybe a little easier in Snowgrave, but that's just because of Noelle's spells, not because Berdly himself changed.) He puts up the best fight that he possibly can, no matter whether he is protecting himself, or trying to save Noelle. This, to me, suggests 2 possibilities: a) he cares just as much about Noelle as he does about himself; or b) he really was fighting for Noelle in both routes. I don't think the second option is entirely true, since in a Normal fight, he does "hit [Noelle] in the face with a tornado," and talks more about himself and how superior he is to everyone else than he does about Noelle. But even so, I think she always was a big part of his reason for fighting.

Queen is the only character to have a difficult battle (with multiple phases, no less) in a Normal Route, and no battle at all in Genocide, who is not doing it for purely selfish reasons. Granted, it seems likely that she would want to preserve her comfortable, regal lifestyle, but not only does she never cite this as a reason for fighting, she doesn't even balk at having to leave her mansion and move into Ralsei's castle. The only reason she ever gives for fighting is trying to help the Lightners (the exact opposite of her ex-husband).

I say this all the time: Papyrus CANNOT kill you. Not without the player seriously breaking the game. And as I understand, at Undertale's initial release, he could kill you, accidentally, if certain conditions were met; but this happened very rarely and has since been entirely patched out. So. For all intents and purposes, he CANNOT kill you. So the fact that there is no real Papyrus battle in Genocide is kind of a moot point, since he was never going to kill you, anyway. And, as many people have pointed out, Papyrus should be able to kill you, probably even one-hit you no matter your LV, in a Pacifist/Neutral route. But he breaks the game to make sure that doesn't ever happen, whether by lowering his own stats, moving the final large bone in his "really cool regular attack," etc.

Anyway. I said all this just to make some points about the characters: that most of them pretty well parallel real life. Truth is, most people don't give their all for the right reasons. Most people do only fight to protect themselves and their egos, and not to protect others.