#it's not as general appeal as some of my other fics

[hermitknut]

Title: The Michen Emperor

No Archive Warnings Apply  // Mature

Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; Injury to Child; threat to child; everyone will be okay I'm just putting them through the wringer; Found Family; Alternate Universe; the details of the content aren't far off canon-typical; but it may be more distressing due to Maia's age; so please tread carefully re the additional tags

Summary:

When Varenechibel IV and his three eldest sons are killed in an airship crash, the eyes of the court turn to the only surviving heir: the nine-year-old Maia Drazhar. Facing down the near-hopeless precedent of child emperors, however, is not something he will have to do alone.

Please note that, due to the structure of the fic, all tags apply to all chapters.

~

So I've been putting off posting this for. About four hundred years. It's not entirely finished, but tbh it's more finished than most of any of my multi-chapters usually are when I start posting, so hopefully I'll be able to get the whole thing up in fairly reasonable time.

It both is and is not darker than Stairs and Tower Stones - strictly speaking, some of the content in those two is at least as dark as this. But this one drops you in it right at the start and doesn't have nearly as much softness to balance it out, so it will feel different.

It's nice to be posting again :)

H

[doyouknowhowtowaltz]

Lady of spring aside, I always kinda assumed that the wardens couldn’t have real children. Like even if they could make/have kids (which is very unlikely) they wouldn’t be wardens like them and would probably be mortal, like a really watered down version of themselves.

Am I close? :)

That's pretty much it! Though, Spring also doesn't have children, the Spring Lineage is fully adoptive, hence why all three generations are different species. And I think any offspring that wardens could produce would be fairly analogous to my thoughts on Beastnoch children which I summed up here

[s0dium]

Douchebag

A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete,  douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers,  teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~

You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.

“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.

“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.

“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around  doncha.”

In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.

You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"

Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."

His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.

Satrou chuckled.

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”

There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”

“Yeah no way in hell.”

~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.

Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.

"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.

"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"

"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.

Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."

Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so

“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.

Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.

Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.

Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.

“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.

It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.

“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”

Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted,  filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"

As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.

"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru

"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.

"Fuck, yes, please."

[jeonginsleftcheek]

68656c70206d65

pairing: han jisung x gn!reader

genre: smut, fantasy/adventure, sci-fi

word count: 10.2k

warnings: fighting scenes, violence in general, use of weapons, decapitation

nsfw warnings: monster cock, oral (f and m receiving), dream(?) fucking/somnophilia, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, pain/stretch kink, creampies, hair pulling, bulge kink, mating press, breeding kink, degradation, anal, fingering, double penetration

a/n: my second spooktober fic! reader is gn but has female anatomy. (a cookie for whoever knows what the title means hehe)

~ divider by @k1ssyoursister

~ Masterlist

The bell on the door rings as you enter the video game store, your heavy boots squeaking on the almost pristine floor.

The unmistakable smell of plastic cases tickles your nose, filling you up with nostalgia as you glance at the various video games displayed on the shelves.

Your friend appears from the back, throwing popcorn into their mouth as they carry a comic book and the bag of snacks in their other hand.

"Ooooh y/n! I was beginning to wonder when you were gonna show up."- Alex says, their eyes lighting up as soon as they see you.

"What do you mean, you literally called me like a thousand times and kept screaming at me to come see something!"- you huff and Alex chuckles.

"Sorry I made you get up from doing nothing."- they roll their eyes and you smack their arm.

"I was beta testing Aaron's new game. So, yes I was doing something actually."- you frown.

"Alright, alright you're a busy bee. Listen. Come here."- Alex motions with their fingers for you to lean in closer.

You roll your eyes playfully and lean in.

"I have an unpublished game for you to play. Well, not just unpublished, I don't even actually know where it came from. But it looks intriguing. I know you're obsessed with all this mysterious shit so I saved it for you."- Alex talks quietly before rounding the counter and looking somewhere under the cash register.

"Mysterious game, you say? Are you sure you didn't make it yourself and now you're trying to get me to play your shitty game?"

"Pfft if I ever make a game it'll be worth of triple A status."- Alex huffs and you laugh as they give you the completely black case.

"Right."- you eye the case, turning it front and back but there's nothing drawn or written on it.

You open the case and a strikingly red cd sits inside it, looking brand new even though the packaging looks used and a bit destroyed.

"Hm. I'll give it a shot and let you know. There's no name or anything? How do you even know it's a game?"

"I put it in my PS. Scared the fuck out of me. Not my thing."- Alex shakes their head, shivering.

"You're making it sound more appealing to me."- you say and Alex pffts.

"Enjoy playing, you sick fuck."- they grin with an eyebrow wiggle and you laugh before saying your byes and leaving the shop, excited to play a new game.

As soon as you arrive home, you don't waste any time, excitedly putting the cd into your ps as you grab your joystick and sit in front of the tv, getting comfy on the floor.

To set the mood right, you didn't even turn on the lights after entering your home, bumping into your furniture as you hurried to finally start playing.

As soon as the game opens, a red screen appears, hurting your eyes for a moment as you hear beeps coming out of your speakers, something is being said in Morse code, you know that much but you can't understand it.

The beeping coupled with the red screen is already creepy and you squirm in anticipation before a black screen replaces the red one, now there are red letters floating up from the bottom of the screen to the top.

"What the fuck?"- you squint, trying to read it before a deep voice scares you for a second as it starts reading the scripture written in some weird scribbles you have never seen before.

You don't even know what the demonic sounding voice is reading and you don't care, for all you know it could be a made up language for the game and you're just too eager to get into the gameplay.

When the voice finally quiets down and the letters disappear from the screen, the main menu screen opens up, showing a ps1 style aesthetic of the game with the title being some weird scribbles that you can't read either.

The only thing you can read is the three options beneath the title that say: PLAY, PLAY NOW, PLAY FOREVER.

"Interesting."- you say out loud and decide to click on the first one that says "PLAY".

Red letters saying "There's no escape." flash quickly on the screen and you have to chuckle at the amount of effort these people put into the intro of the game.

You're finally in, the style of the game being third person and the cameras have fixed angles, reminding you of games your older siblings played when you were a child.

Your pixelated character seems to be a young guy, his black hair slightly curled, he's wearing all black clothes, sporting a knife in his right hand and a zippo in his left.

"Alright, let's see."- you purse your lips as you take control of the character and start walking through the winding dark corridor, the only source of light being the lighter in his hand.

There are creepy pictures framed all over the walls, people with disfigured faces and monsters of all sorts lurking as their eyes seemingly follow your character.

You come up to a door and open it with a click, revealing a library with endless shelves of books and a few doors on the opposite wall of your character.

There are torches placed strategically around the room, illuminating every single shelf as you explore.

You can see there are some books missing so you know you're about to have to search for them, maybe place them by color or solve a puzzle as you keep walking around.

Your character steps on a creaky floorboard and for a second, the sound seems to be inside your room.

Your head quickly snaps around as you squint in the dark.

Come on y/n, don't be paranoid.

You shake it off and keep playing.

Finding all the books that were thrown around wasn't hard and after going back and forth, putting them back in their designated places, you hear a door click.

You walk your character to the first door on the right and it opens, leading you to a completely black room.

"Enter the void?"

You chuckle and click yes.

Nothing happens for a moment, until you start feeling something weird, like you're being pulled towards the screen and you gasp as your joystick flies out of your hand violently.

It's like your body is being dragged into the tv and you can't even make sense of what's happening as you try to grab onto your carpet but to no avail; you're sucked into the screen and you end up falling right on your butt.

When you open your eyes, you seem to be out in some kind of weird field, a few torches stuck into the reddish earth here and there, some curious creatures in hoods, darkness where their faces should be stand not too far away from you, their blackened bony fingers reaching out towards a fire that crackles in front of them.

"Finally!"- you hear a voice yell out excitedly and you turn to your left, gasping when you see your character, no longer pixelated, but looking normal like everything else around you, like this is the real world.

"What-"

"Come on, we need to hurry, it's coming soon!"- the character says, reaching his hand out to you.

You're about to protest but you can see that even the weird faceless creatures have abandoned the warmth of the fire as they search for shelter.

The character leads you to a cave nearby, running for his life and dragging you behind him as you gasp for air; having been out of shape for some time obviously didn't do you any good and as you started thinking about how you should exercise more, the guy snaps his fingers in front of your face.

"Hello, do you hear me?"- he asks, his eyes big as he stares at you curiously.

"What is happening?"- you ask.

"You got sucked into the game. Just like I did."- he says. "I've been trying to beat it for who knows how long and now with the two of us here, we might actually manage! There are levels you really can't pass without having a helping hand and the creatures that exist here are not exactly friendly."- he explains.

"Great. Just what I needed before the weekend. You know, I was supposed to stay at home for two days and catch up on my favorite shows? I was supposed to eat take out! And play games! But inside the comfort of my home! Not for real!"- you frown, throwing your hands up annoyingly.

"You think I wanna be here?"- the guy whined. "I wanna go home to my bed too. I would give anything to eat the most nasty ass greasy hamburger. And fries, oh fries."- he licks his lips, his eyes closing and his eyebrows sad. "Also, you're taking the news well. You're literally stuck in a cursed game."

"Listen, nothing shocks me anymore?"- you shake your head. "Just tell me what is happening right now and what the fuck is that sound outside?"

"See for yourself."- he says and you peek outside to see fireballs raining from the sky, but no, not from the sky, there is a dragon flying around spitting them out directly onto the faceless creatures, smiting them as they try to run.

"Great."- you frown. "What now?"

"I don't have any weapons except this."- the character pulls out a knife. "We have to wait for it to leave."

"There should be more weapons, I mean it is a game. As you level up, you need to get more powerful shit. Also why is the first level a literal dragon spitting fire and you only have a knife? You can't bring a dragon to a knife fight."- you cross your arms on your chest and the somewhat cute character chuckles.

"Tell that to whoever developed this game."- he sits down on the floor, patting the place next to him so you join him.

"I'm Jisung by the way."

"Y/n."- you shake his hand and he exhales with a smile.

"It is good to have another human here with me. I have hope now."- he declares.

"I bet you do. But how did you end up in here anyways?"

"Probably the same as you, played the game and got sucked in."- he purses his lips in thought. "Never got pass level four though. There's a door there that needs to be opened by holding two levers at the same time, but on the other end of the room. I can't possibly stretch that much."- Jisung chuckles.

"You're awfully cheerful for someone stuck in a game and being a loser that can't even get over level 4."- you smirk.

"Hey now, don't be like that!"- he gives you a nervous chuckle. "I just need another hand to progress to level 5. It was designed that way."

"Alright, I'm just teasing, don't get your panties in a bunch."

"Who says I'm even wearing any?"- Jisung smirks as he leans towards you and you lean away with a scoff.

"Too much, too soon."- you stand up. "Is there anything I can use as a weapon here?"- you ask as you start searching around.

"Not that I know of."- Jisung shrugs and with that, it finally becomes quiet outside.

"Can we go out?"- you ask, peeking your head only a little.

"Yeah, let's go finish level one."- Jisung nods with a smile.

As you step forward, you almost slip and fall as a literal sword appears in front of you, laying on the ground, shiny and sharp, all ready to use.

"Woah, so cool!"- you exclaim, grabbing it and chuckling as you start swinging it around.

"Damn, careful with that thing!"- Jisung lets out an 'eek' sound as he leans away from you almost decapitating his poor head.

"I actually have skills!"- you say, making a few quick moves before the tip of your blade ends up slightly pressed against Jisung's neck.

"Please use that on the enemies."- he whimpers and you chuckle as you retract the sword away from him.

"Let's go kill some monsters."- you say as you leave the cave and Jisung scrambles behind you, thinking you must be completely out of your mind.

The faceless creatures that were standing by the fire harmlessly were now charging at you but somehow you knew every trick with the heavy sword, like you've been wielding it your whole life.

You easily decapitate them, no blood coming out as you do, after all they were just ones and zeroes, they disintegrate into thin air after you kill them.

Jisung admires your agility as he uses the knife, having to come up with a strategy as he himself had to fight all these creatures alone mutiple times. He would stealth around them and get them in the back of their neck, the blade sinking into their flesh and killing them with little effort.

You're actually having fun doing this, usually you're cooped up in your house, nothing really interesting happens as you work from home and then play games or watch tv.

You had always wished you could fall into another world, live another life where you can do new and adventurous things like absolutely killing the shit out of some annoying creatures.

Jisung and you easily get rid of all the enemies in the field, both breathing hard and looking at each other after you're done.

"Good teamwork!"- he lifts his hand up and you high five him with a proud smile on your face.

"Gosh, that was so fun!"- you marvel in your victory as Jisung shakes his head with a smile.

"We're not done yet, there will be more."- he says as he starts walking. "Follow me, y/n!"

You follow behind him as you walk towards a valley full of dips and hills, a few trees growing around, placed at random and just then you notice how this world is devoid of details and usual textures that the real world has.

You know you're supposed to be walking on some kind of reddish sand but there's no texture to it.

It's the weirdest thing ever.

"Watch out!"- Jisung calls out to you, snapping you out of your thoughts as you look up and see the faceless monsters approaching the two of you quickly.

"Shit!"- you exclaim as you see a swarm of them scurrying towards you. "How are there so many?! How did you manage to kill them when you were all alone?!"- you yell out as you start expertly swinging your sword again, heads rolling left and right.

"I didn't!"- Jisung yells back. "More of them are spawning since you dropped in here!"

"Fuckers!"- you yell out and start killing them with even more vigor.

Jisung wonders if you have anger issues because you seem to be handling the slaughter oddly well.

He does his part, killing as many of the creatures as he could.

"Wow, this'll definitely get me in shape."- you say as you lean your hands on your bended knees.

"You must be crazy."- Jisung chuckles.

"Maybe I am. Why, are you afraid?"- you smirk.

"No, I'm thrilled."- he winks at you and it's your turn to chuckle before you keep on progressing further.

"Hey, how come I'm not thirsty or hungry?"- you ask as the two of you continue walking, the surroundings becoming darker as you near a forest.

"I've no idea but I haven't been thirsty or hungry here either. Ugh, maybe we're dead?"- Jisung shrugs with a slight pout, his chubby cheeks making him look like a cute pufferfish.

"Wow. Great conclusion. We might actually be dead, like how do you even know that when we win the game, we get back into the real world?"

"I just assumed it. When you win, you get a reward and wouldn't that be a reward? Being here sucks. Yeah, sure it's fun for the first few rounds but it becomes burdensome to keep repeating the same levels over and over again."- Jisung sighs.

"That's when you didn't have me. But, I'm here now and we're gonna get further than level four, my friend."- you say with a smirk.

"You seem really excited about this."- he notes with a snicker.

"My dream came true. I got sucked into a different world! I've always wanted to experience that!"

"You really are crazy."- he shakes his head.

"Still thrilled about it?"- you ask, lifting up your eyebrow, the smirk still painted on your face.

"Sure am."- Jisung nods as you finally come up to a forest.

"We have to be stealthy here."- he adds.

"Okay, I'm ready."- you nod, already lifting up your sword.

"Don't be too hasty, y/n."- he warns and you roll your eyes playfully at him.

Jisung picks up a lantern that was waiting on the side and the two of you venture into the dark forest.

It's dark and thick enough to be creepy, making goosebumps rise on your skin but in your mind, you're in no real danger since you have your sword, plus this is a video game, not real life, right?

"The creatures here are quiet because they float around so keep your eyes peeled."- Jisung whispers, his eyes wide as he scans the surroundings.

"You got it."- you wink with a thumbs up before gripping your weapon.

Nothing happens for a few more moments until you accidentally step on a twig, snapping it in half and creating sound in the otherwise quiet enviroment.

This attracts the ghastly creatures, pale as the moon with sharp teeth and completely white eyes, as they float towards the two of you with their hands stretched out menacingly.

You waste no time and start swinging your sword, cutting the enemies into pieces like they were made of nothing.

Jisung on the other hand, is having a little trouble killing them with only his knife.

He grunts as he jumps and stabs the enemies wherever he can reach.

You help him out a little but another swarm of the creatures approaches and Jisung puts his lantern down, grabbing a thick branch, dual wielding it with the knife as he tries his best.

You feel more and more exhilirated as the enemies keep dropping down to the ground and then disappearing out of existence entirely.

"Ouch!"- you hear Jisung on your left and you quickly turn around, seeing him clutching at his arm.

"Shit!"- you yell out as you manage to kill the last creature that was floating above Jisung, ready to pounce on him any moment.

"Are you okay?!"- you hurry to Jisung and he removes his hand to reveal a cut on his arm.

"Woah, we can get hurt here?"- you gasp.

"Yeah, but there are healing stations. There's one not to far away from here, in level 3, just before the garden level."- he says.

"Okay, lead the way."- you nod and the two of you quickly continue.

You have to fight the creepy creatures a few more times before you actually make it out of the forest, barely making it out alive as you finally see a worn out barn in front of you, the doors are pulled off of the hinges and there are holes in the walls everywhere; but right now even that looks like a five star hotel to you.

As you come closer, you can see that the wooden planks again have no real texture just like most of the things in this world, reminding you again that this is not reality and that somehow you have ended up as an entity made up of ones and zeroes.

"Is this it?"- you ask.

"Yes."- Jisung nods as he leads you inside.

There are all sorts of tools like hammers and axes scattered around, all can be used as weapons.

"Should I grab one of these axes? It looks sharp enough to me."- Jisung picks it up and observes it.

"Haven't you been here before?"- you ask.

"I have, but there were no tools here then. I think new stuff and enemies keep spawning because now there are two protagonists in the game."- Jisung taps his chin.

"Weird."- you squint your eyes but ultimately shrug as you look for disinfectant and bandages in the drawers.

You rummage through them and finally find it in the third drawer.

"Should've gone bottom up with this."- you mutter to yourself as Jisung sits down and sighs.

"Tired?"- you ask as you make your way to him.

"Yeah, I think whoever made this, gave us some kind of stamina bar."

"So we're supposed to feel tired? But not hungry or thirsty?"

"I guess so. I mean as I said I do crave food mentally. Like I keep thinking about- OUCH!"- he yells out when you press the cloth with the disinfectant on his wound.

"A little warning would be nice."- he says and you chuckle at him.

"Don't be a baby. There are things that hurt more than this does."- you say before grabbing a bandage.

"True but that was unexpected."- he pouts and you can't help but chuckling again.

"There. All done."- you nod as you look at his arm.

"Thank you."- Jisung smiles. "I think I'm gonna sleep now."

"I'm too excited to sleep."- you retort.

"Oh, are you now? Then you can keep watch."- he says and you chuckle. "Just wake me up when you feel like sleeping and we can change shifts then."

"Okay."- you nod with a smile and Jisung gets comfy on a pillow he made from his jacket.

While he sleeps, you decide to explore the barn, not finding anything too unusual in it, you look around it too, turning up blank yet again so you just go back to sitting next to Jisung's sleeping body.

To your disappointment, no enemies attack while you're on guard duty and you end up picking on your pants in boredom and thinking about who made the game, how did they manage to suck in whole living people, how come only Jisung and you are not npcs, what actually happens when the game ends.

Those were some of the questions swimming in your mind, none of them having a definite answer or a satisfying conclusion.

You yawn and realize that you actually are tired so you gently shake Jisung awake.

"What? Who's there?"- he panics immediately as he sits up.

"Calm down."- you snicker. "I just wanna sleep, my dude."

"Oh, right. Ugh..."- he rubs his eyes. "Okay, I'll keep us safe then."- he nods and you exchange places with him.

"Sleep well, y/n."- you hear Jisung say before you drift off into dreamland.

-

Curious eyes peer down at you.

There's something unsettling in the way they look, emotionless, not blinking, yellow eyes just staring, boring into yours as if they're trying to suck your soul in.

A wide smile appears, revealing long sharp teeth, the pointy ends dipped in red blood as a long tongue licks at them hungrily.

Sharp claws rasp gently against your cheek.

You're so pretty.

You're so human.

So edible.

-

You wake up after a nightmare, a creature so freaky with sharp teeth and long claws was about to eat you whole but you managed to open your eyes before it got what it wanted.

You sat up so quickly that it scared Jisung, making him jolt where he sat beside you.

"Woah, hey. You okay?"- he asks, concern written on his face.

"Just had a nightmare."- you swallow.

"About?"- he asks.

"A monster was about to eat me. It had sharp teeth and claws. And creepy yellow eyes."

"Oh. I had dreams about that monster too. I think he may live somewhere around here. Or she, whatever. Maybe it's a boss we have to fight."- Jisung concludes.

"Could be. It tried to eat me."- you say and he chuckles.

"Maybe it's hungry."- he says and you nod.

"Not gonna let it get me. If it is a boss I will make sure to fight well."- you say and Jisung gives you another high five, his hand holding yours for a moment.

"I will fight beside you."- he promises before the two of you decide to continue.

The forest leads into a pitch black cave, and as unsettling as it feels to be surrounded by thick walls on all sides with the earthy smell and the humid air around you, you still always thought caves were cool and wanted to explore one and your mind hadn't changed even in these circumstances.

Now you had the chance, the two of you making your way through narrow passages, having to turn your bodies sideways at times.

"What kind of monsters live here?"- you ask quietly as you walk through another, more wide passage where Jisung and you can walk side by side, your shoulders brushing occasionally.

"Some creepy crawly creatures. They look slimy and shit. They crawl really quickly so again you have to be vigilant."

"Okay, I'm gonna be very vigilant."- you chuckle and Jisung shakes his head.

"You're taking this as if it's a joke."- Jisung says incredulously as you enter a bigger room, the ceiling stretching up forever and the room itself branching into a few different paths to choose from.

"It's a game. Not a joke but also not reality."- you state and before Jisung can answer, the freaky creatures with glowing white skin start crawling out of holes and from the ceiling, their claws rasping against the stones.

"Ew!"- you make a disgusted face before you start killing them like it's nobody's business.

Jisung has little time to admire your unrelenting passion as he himself gets into the fighting, successfully slaughtering the repulsive beings.

In the heat of the moment as you concentrate on swinging your sword at a certain angle, your foot slips on a stone and before you can steady yourself, you start falling, your sword clattering next to you as your body hits the wet floor with a thud.

Jisung gasps as he looks at you, one of the creatures slams down from the ceiling, their hands planted on either sides of your head as their mouth opens, sharp teeth ready to bite into your flesh.

"Y/n!"- Jisung yells as he turns towards you but one of the creatures jumps on his back and as he struggles with it, you try to struggle with the one on top of you.

But their skin is smooth and slimy, making it slip between your fingers no matter how you try to grab them.

Just as you think you're about to meet your demise, in a blink of an eye, you hear a spine crack and you turn to see Jisung has managed to grab the creature and crack it against the sharp stones.

You swear in your half-hazy state that you can see a yellow glint in his eyes.

The creature above you is about to wrap their hands around your neck but Jisung appears next to you, grabbing the creature and stabbing it with his knife as it wails in pain.

You can no longer keep your eyes open.

The creature with yellow eyes appears in your dream again.

But this time there is something oddly warm and comforting about it as it leans in closer to you, its head between your legs.

Just then you register that you're completely naked and aroused, your pussy is swollen and dripping with arousal as the creature looks at you hungrily, ready to devour you as its face stretches into a wide smile, displaying all the bloodied teeth inside its mouth.

"Oh!"- you exclaim as you try to move but quickly realize that you're tied down.

The creature's long wet tongue licks at your inner thighs, making you gasp as it slithers up towards your clenching hole. It presses against your pussy, licking at your wetness, collecting it and savoring the taste and you whimper as your legs tremble.

You've never felt this aroused in your life as the creature pushes your pussy lips open with the wet raspy muscle, its claws digging painfully into the supple flesh of your thighs.

The long tongue is as thick and long as an average length cock and you whimper loudly as it starts fucking you open.

You've never felt so much pleasure as the tongue expertly finds your sweet spot rubbing it and prodding at it, torturing you as your juices drip and slide down your ass.

"M-more!"- you manage to moan out and the creature speeds up with a smirk, its yellow eyes staring at you without ever blinking.

The thought of being at the mercy of a monster, its sharp teeth so close to your most sensitive part, its tongue filling up your little hole has you clenching around it tightly as you moan continuously before finally creaming around the relentless muscle.

The creature laps at you before lifting their body up, revealing that they're completely naked too, and you gasp as your eyes see their dick, big and heavy, with ridges on it, the head leaking pre-cum.

"Not yet."- the demonic voice sounds as you lick your lips at the sight of the monster's red and hard member.

You wake up in sweat, quickly realizing that you had a wet dream as you feel the sticky substance pooling on your panties.

"Fuck!"- you whisper-yell and Jisung appears on your side, sitting down on the mattress you were just sleeping on.

"Y/n? Are you okay?"- he asks, his big sweet eyes almost looking innocent as he peers at you.

"I don't know. Had a weird dream."

"Was it the monster again?"- he asks. "The one with the yellow eyes?"

"Yeah, it was. How do you know?"

"Because any time I fall asleep, he's in my dreams too."- Jisung sighs.

"Yeah but this dream... It was um- arousing."- your face turns red as Jisung's eyes widen.

"Oh. It was?"- he licks his lips, seemingly scooting closer to you.

"Yes."- you search his eyes for a moment.

"I had a few dreams like that too. I- um... had dreams that the monster was fucking me."- Jisung admits almost shyly. "Would get me horny like nothing else for some reason."

"Oh yeah? I felt like that too."- you say.

"Now? Do you feel like that now?"- he asks almost desperately, his lips hovering near yours.

"Mhm."- you nod, the arousal taking over you as your pussy throbs, clenching around nothing whilst you lean into Jisung.

"Where are we though?"- you ask, your lips almost against his.

"In the garden shed. Level 4. We're safe here."- he whispers, his bottom lip brushing against yours for a second.

"Just how long have you been here, Jisung?"- you whisper back as you press your lips on his, your hand touching his, running up his arm slowly to the back of his neck as you hold him.

"Too long."- he whimpers against you, touch deprived as he seeks out your lips.

You give into the kisses, being hungry for touch yourself, and weirdly aroused from the dream earlier your lips keep dancing together more passionately, tongues licking at each other desperately in no time.

Jisung grabs at your waist as you hold his face, both of you moaning into each other.

Your hand tangles in his hair and you pull his head back, making him moan loudly as your lips attach to his neck immediately.

He tastes sweet for some reason, as you kiss and lick at his smooth skin, your teeth sinking into the flesh, sucking and marking him.

Jisung is a whiny mess, his hands are impatient as he grabs your breasts, massaging them and playing with them.

Your hands are equally as impatient as his, as you let one of yours run down to the obvious bulge in his pants.

"Fuck, you're big!"- you squeeze his hard cock through his pants and Jisung whimpers, biting on your lip and holding it between his teeth before releasing it.

"Yeah? You like that?"- he smirks, his fingers pinching your sensitive nipples, happy that you didn't wear a bra under your shirt.

"Love it. Wanna suck."- you whimper against his lips as you keep leaving little kisses on them, kissing the corners of his mouth too.

Jisung moans as you palm him, his cock twitching under your touch.

"Do what you want with it."- he moans.

You unbutton and unzip him instantly, pulling his pants down with his boxers, not wanting to waste any more time.

Your hand presses on his chest as you push him to sit against the wall.

His cock is heavy, leaking with pre-cum and twitching just because you're looking at him hungrily.

He spreads his legs and you lean down, your tongue catching the precum and licking at the head, prodding at him and enjoying his taste as you swallow.

"Oh fuck!"- Jisung whimpers as he looks down at you, on your hands and knees, your pretty lips stretching around his head.

"Yeah, just like that baby."- his hand rests on your head as he pushes you down to take more.

Your eyes flutter as you keep swallowing his cock and he gasps in wonder and arousal when you manage to push it all in, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag deliciously around him, your wide eyes watering.

"Fuck, you're so good!"- Jisung whimpers as you start bobbing your head up and down madly like it was the only thing you were made to do.

Jisung trembles like a leaf, his fingers digging into the back of your neck as he grips your hair harshly.

Your eyes roll back as you keep sucking on him, ignoring the way it makes you gag, letting your nose touch his navel anytime you swallow his entire length.

Your pussy leaks with arousal as you rub your thighs together, wanting nothing more than to be plugged up with that huge cock of his.

You pull off with a pop, your eyes glazed over and matching his as he stares at you.

"I need you to fuck me now."- you breathe hard.

"Strip and get on all fours for me then."- he smirks, getting rid of his shirt.

You whine as you pull at your clothes impatiently, desperate to feel Jisung deep inside you.

Your clothes ends up somewhere on the floor, together with his as you lean down on your hands and knees, lifting your ass up and spreading your legs for him.

"Wow, so wet."- his fingers run through your folds as you drip down your inner thighs. "You want me to prep you?"

"No, just put it in already."- you wiggle your ass desperately.

"What a cockslut."- Jisung smirks behind you, his palm making impact with your ass.

"Need it."- you whimper as he presses the tip on your pussy, gathering your wetness with it.

"You'll get it, don't worry."- he says and with one swift move of his hips, he buries his cock deep inside you, the stretch brings you a stinging pain that you adore.

"Ah, so big! Fuck me, please!"- you whine and Jisung grips your hips, fucking into you quickly, your wetness making him slip in and out easily as his heavy balls keep smacking against you.

Every thrust brings you both pain and pleasure and your nails dig into the mattress as you keep begging for more, harder, deeper, faster.

Jisung loses control over himself at your desperate begging, and he starts pounding into you relentlessly, his cock throbbing inside your warmness, hungry to feel you more, to bury himself as deep as he can.

"Pull my hair!"- you whine and Jisung complies, gathering your hair to create a makeshift ponytail, he grips it in his hand and pulls your head back harshly as he pistons his hips into you.

You moan loudly, scratching at the mattress, as the sounds of his hips smacking your ass fill up the room.

"I'm gonna cum!"- you whine and Jisung groans behind you as he feels you clench around him before you squirt all over him.

"Ah! Can I cum inside? Please let me cum inside."- he moans desperately, the feeling of your pussy becoming even more wet and tight after you came drives him crazy.

"Yes, fill me up!"- you push your ass back into him and he groans deeply, gripping your hair and pulling your head back again as his cock twitches before he fills up your insides with his hot cum.

Both of you breathe heavily for a moment before Jisung slowly pulls out of you and you roll on your back, looking up at him.

The sight of his messy hair and sweat covered body has you twitching again as you feel his hot cum slowly ooze out of you.

"Mm."- you whine as you put your hand between your legs and start playing with his cum, pushing it back into your pussy with your fingers.

"My, my, you are freaky."- Jisung exhales with a smirk.

"You've no idea."- you smirk back as you sit up.

"What are you-" - Jisung starts when you lean towards his cock.

"Wanna clean you up."- you bat your eyelashes at him and before he can even answer, you swallow his softened cock and give it a few licks, licking up both his and your cum before swallowing it.

"Ah! Y/n!"- he whines as you lean back and release him, your tongue darting out to lick your lips.

"Wow."- you both chuckle.

"That was really hot."- Jisung looks at you with sparkly eyes.

"Mhm."- you nod. "Let's wash up and continue though."- you add as you start getting up.

Jisung pouts at the lack of cuddles but nonetheless, he follows you albeit reluctantly.

"Can I at least get one more kiss before we leave?"- he asks after the two of you got done washing up and you snicker.

"Sure. We can fuck later again if you want."- you giggle against his lips.

"I'd never say no to that."- he smirks and kisses you, more gentle and sweet than before and you wrap your arms around him, your body pressing against his.

The warm and comforting feeling the monster in your dream gave you permeates between your bodies.

You quite like the feeling.

-

"You failed to tell me that the garden spawns more enemies than any other level!"- you yell out as both you and Jisung keep slaughtering the creepy zombie girls appearing from the bushes.

Their shrieks shake your eardrums and pierce through your brain, somehow making you feel exhausted the more you try to fight them.

"This never happened before, I swear! Please believe me, y/n!"- Jisung yells back desperately, his eyes wide as he swings his axe, the blade getting stuck into one of the zombie's heads.

"They just keep coming, Jisung! We can't possibly stay here and keep fighting with them, we need to think!"- you yell as one of the zombies almost gets you but you manage to dodge and cut her head right off her shoulders.

"Give me a moment!"- Jisung struggles with a zombie who manages to grip his axe and throw it aside but he's quick as he pulls out his knife and stabs the zombie in her head.

"We don't have a moment!"- you point at another group of zombies approaching you, their shrieks becoming louder and louder.

"Fuck! Ugh- let's burn down the garden!"- Jisung says.

"Quickly, do it quickly!"- you say as you keep fighting.

Jisung manages to pull his zippo out and light some dry branches and leaves on fire as you keep fighting the creatures attacking you, keeping your comrade safe while he tries to burn the place down.

"Let's get to that door! You go pull the right lever and I will pull the left!"- Jisung points at the levers quickly.

"Alright!"- you yell as the fire starts to spread, both of you run towards the big heavy doors.

The fire creates a barrier between you and the zombies as the two of you skip over to the levers, pulling the heavy handles down at the count of three.

The doors creak open, the sound loud over the crackling of fire and both of you run through the door, not even looking what you're running into.

The heavy doors close behind you as if they feel that you've come inside and suddenly it becomes completely quiet.

Your hand searches for Jisung's in the darkness, as the two of you breathe heavily.

Fingers entwined as you scoot closer to each other, both of you jolt when the torches perched on the walls start burning, lighting up the big long corridor you just walked into.

"Where are we now?"- you ask.

"I have no idea. Remember, I've never been further than this big door."- Jisung lifts his finger as he turns and both of your lips hang open in shock.

"Where's the door?!"- you squeal.

"It's fucking gone!"- he gasps, squeezing your hand.

"Woah, things are really getting freaky!"- you exclaim.

"Why are you smiling about it?"- Jisung shakes his head, his eyes wide, a peculiar smile on his face.

"I love freaky shit."

"I gathered that but how freaky are we talking?"

"Very freaky."- you nod as you start making your way down the corridor.

"I'll keep that in mind."- he smirks, his hand is still in yours as you walk cautiously towards the next room, which finally reveals where you are.

"We're in the castle!"- Jisung gasps. "The one we could see down from level one!"

"Does this mean we're close to the end? If so, there's probably a boss fight coming up soon. We need to find some weapons. And also get some rest."- you say as you scan the room.

"I agree. Let's see what's over there."- Jisung points at the door on the right and miraculously, it turns out to be the safe room.

Looking around, you notice a weapon upgrade station, a health kit, and some other tools, but what catches your attention the most is the glowing scroll that's literally floating in air next to the bed.

"What is that?"- you mutter as you approach it, grabbing it in your hands as Jisung follows you and peers over your shoulder.

You open it up and chuckle.

"Something in English."- you add and he nods at you to read it.

If you have gotten to here somehow, turn back now, there's a switch you can pull to leave, I beg of you; just leave, do not fight her and do not let the demon out. I repeat, don't let the demon escape!

"What demon?"- you purse your lips. "And who shouldn't we fight?"

"Maybe it's the demon from our dreams."- Jisung shrugs.

"Yeah, it he comes up though, we can just kill him."- you say in a nonchalant tone, tossing the scroll aside as you turn to look at the comfy bed.

"Kill him. Yes."- Jisung nods absentmindedly.

"Oh wow, look at that bed."- you rub your palms in delight, forgetting about everything else.

"Looks comfy."- he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"For sleeping."- you add as you tumble down onto the mattress.

"And other activities. Perhaps later?"- Jisung jumps on the bed next to you, making your body shake with it as you chuckle.

"Mhm. Maybe."- you nod and turn around with a blissful smile on your face.

The warm feeling envelops your naked sleeping body, yellow eyes boring into the back of your head as sharp claws rasp at your skin, barely touching you as they explore your sweet sleeping form.

Long bony fingers rest on your thigh, squeezing the flesh before lifting your leg up to reveal your sopping wet pussy.

The creature growls quietly, making you stir a little, and he gravitates closer to you, the big throbbing red cockhead makes contact with your little pussy, it drags against your folds and you whimper in your sleep, warm, wet and inviting as you chase the touch.

He presses his cock harder into you, slowly dragging the length with all the ridges against you, your aroused pussy leaving trails of white cream on the red member.

"Fuck. Need to have you like this."- the creature groans and grabs you, turning you on your back.

Your eyes snap open and you see those yellow eyes looking at you hungrily as he spreads your legs and pushes your knees up to your shoulders.

"Are you gonna fuck me?"- you ask sleepily as you blink, arousal gushing out of you in excitement.

"Yes."- he answers simply, pressing his cock against you.

"It's so big."- you whimper. "Can I touch it?"

"Not yet. I need to put it inside you first, okay?"- the creature smiles with his sharp teeth and you nod.

"Okay."

He slowly drags his tip against your folds up to your clit, teasing it and pressing into it and you throw your head back, moaning quietly as you snake your arms around your thighs, hoisting your legs up even more, your fingers playing with your sensitive nipples.

"Aren't you so ready to receive?"- the creature chuckles, the tip slowly being pushed into you.

"Ah! Yes, I am!"- you whimper as it stretches your pussy, you've never felt this aroused and needy, the need to be filled up with the creature's cock was the only thing on your mind.

The head finally pops in as your warm flesh stretches around it, accepting it in and you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes.

He looks down at the sight of your glistening pussy lips clenching around his head and it has him grunting, it takes everything he has in him to not start fucking you dumb immediately.

You lift your head up a little and look down.

He's barely even in and you look at the ridges on his cock that is yet to be pushed inside you, and you feel your pussy ooze with more arousal at the thought of having the monster cock deep inside you.

"Please!"- you whimper.

"You're such a desperate little slut."- the monster smirks, his hands pressing on the back of your thighs as he slowly pushes more of his big girthy cock inside you.

"Mm, yes!"- you moan.

"Say it!"- he demands, slipping more of his length into you, the ridges finally touching the inside of your soft walls.

"I'm a desperate little slut!"- you whine out, your hands coming down to spread your pussy as much as you could, feeling crazy as the monster fucks you open slowly, pushing a bit more of his cock in each time he thrusts.

"Never had a human as freaky as you under me. Willingly letting me split you apart with my cock. No, not just letting me do it, begging me to do it."- the creature smirks.

"I've always fantasized about being fucked by a monster."- you gasp as his cock pushes in deeper into you, stretching your little hole impossibly wide as the member gets even more girthy towards the balls.

"Fuck, you're sick!"- the creature cackles. "Your fantasy is about to come true. Be careful what you wish for."- it sounds menacing but you bite on your lip in anticipation, your hands squeezing your breasts and massaging them.

He stops being patient, pushing all of his length into you, knocking the air out of your lungs as his heavy balls rest on your ass, and you look down, trying to catch your breath.

"Ngh..."- you whine almost cross eyed, when you see that he has managed to push his huge cock inside you completely, a huge bulge evident on your tummy.

Your hand comes down to touch the bulge as the creature observes you.

"Brace yourself, little human."- the creature smirks before he starts fucking into you with vigor, making you gasp and claw at the sheets, your eyes wide as his cock fucks you painfully but you revel in the pain, craving more and more.

"Harder!"- you whimper, tears streaming down your cheeks quickly as the monster pounds into you, the texture on his cock stinging against your velvety walls, the head hits somewhere deep inside you, making you feel like your insides are literally being rearranged as he obliges and fucks you even harder than before.

It doesn't even take that long for you to cream and squirt around him, cumming hard as your eyes roll back and you moan loudly, your whole body vibrating on the bed.

He keeps fucking into you fast and hard, bringing his weight down on you as you scream in pain and pleasure.

"You're enjoying this so much. Already came, little slut you are."

"Yes, so good!"- you whimper, your vision blurry as you stare up at his yellow eyes. "Need more!"

"Keep taking it good like this and I might keep you forever."

"Yes!"- you whine, your hips lifting up into his as his cock keeps splitting you apart.

"Yeah? You want that? Wanna be fucked like this all the time?"- the creature growls, fucking you even harder and you can't even keep your eyes open anymore.

"Yes, please, fuck me!"- you keep moaning and the creature laughs above you.

"How about I use you as my own little cum dump? Breed this little human pussy with my demon seed?"

"D-demon?"- you whimper, your eyes opening up as he keeps wrecking you. "P-please! Yes, I want it!"- you feel like your mind has completely seeped out of your skull and the only thing left inside your empty head is the demon's cock bringing you pain and pleasure like you've never experienced before.

"You're gonna take all of it then."- the demon says and fucks into you harshly as you cry, holding onto the sheets for dear life before you feel him twitch inside you, his cock spasming and flooding your insides with so much cum that it drips down between your legs, sliding down your ass and making everything around you soaked.

"Aw, your little pussy can't even take it."- the demon mocks you as he slowly pulls out, the ridges massaging your walls before he leaves you feeling empty.

"I-I'm sorry!"- you whine as you feel his cum gushing out of you like a river.

"Don't be. I'm still gonna fill you up."- he smirks almost evilly as he slides his still hard cock between your asscheeks, pressing the head on your fluttering hole and you gasp.

"Ever been fucked here?"- he smirks.

"A few times."- you nod.

"What a slut you are."- the demon seems to be enjoying. "You want me to stretch you here too?"

"Please!"- you beg again, a new wave of arousal running over you as you anticipate being filled up again.

The demon's long tongue licks at his teeth hungrily as he looks at your stretched pussy still oozing out cum, his cock pressing into your little hole, meeting some resistence as he tries to push in.

"So tight."- he whines, his cock bullying its way inside your ass.

"Mm, it hurts."- you moan, your legs leaning on his shoulders as he presses closer to you, his cock slipping in more.

"You love that."- he smirks and you nod quickly, moaning as he keeps pushing in.

The ridges feel painful again but his cock is coated in so much cum both from him and you that it manages to slip into you steadily.

"How about being fucked in both holes at the same time?"- the demon asks and you nod desperately.

"Please, please!"- you beg quickly.

The demon's claws retract before he plunges three long fingers inside you, moving his cock inside your ass at the same time.

The pain that brings pleasure is too much as you let the demon have his way with you, fucking both your holes open, your eyes flutter closed and you think you may have passed out a few times as he keeps relentlessly pushing into you like he's trying to dig his way inside you.

You can't even count how many times you squirted all over yourself before the demon's hips finally become sloppier and soon he cums inside your ass, filling you up again.

"That's it. Take it all. Good slut."- you hear him say as your hole overflows with his hot cum.

You feel his long tongue lapping at your asshole and your pussy, the demon moaning against you as it savors the taste of the two of you mixed together.

That's the last thing you remember before you slip into unconsciousness.

"Y/n! Y/n!"- you hear Jisung's voice as he shakes you awake.

"What? What?!"- you sit up, your whole body is sweaty and you can feel the wetness between your legs, the feeling makes you dig your fingers into the sheets beneath you.

"Someone is trying to break in!"- he panics, pointing at the rattling door and your head snaps towards it, eyes wide as you suddenly become awake.

"Fucking hell. We need weapons!"- you scramble to get up, your legs almost giving up when you stand but Jisung is quick to rush towards you and grab you.

"What's wrong with you?!"- he asks worriedly as you whimper.

"The monster..."

"Oh... Oh. I know what it feels like. You'll be okay, I promise."- Jisung nods quickly and the pounding on the door becomes even more frantic.

You know the flimsy wood won't be able to take much more so you try to gather all the strength you have and forget about the monster from your dreams for now, and focus on whatever monster is at the other side of the door.

You stand up and run over to the table in the room.

There is an upgrading station for your sword which makes it more sharper, carrying a magical strength and a deadly poison on it.

Jisung acquiers a magical crossbow that makes you jelaous for a moment but before you can protest the door is finally kicked down, and an angry looking big dog growls at the sight of you.

Frightened, you jump behind Jisung unconsciously.

Big canine teeth drip with saliva as the dog's eyes glow red is your biggest nightmare come true.

"You're afraid of dogs?"- Jisung quickly prepares his bow.

"Terrified. Please kill it."- it's your only fear manifesting itself as an enemy, ready to pounce on you any time, rip your flesh into pieces.

"Don't worry!"- he says as the dog jumps up, you shriek, shielding yourself automatically but Jisung is quick and accurate as the poisonous arrow hits right between the creature's eyes.

The dog wails as it hits the ground harshly, disappearing after it dies.

"Is there more?"- you ask with tears in your eyes, as you clutch at Jisung's arm.

"Don't know. But something's in the foyer, for sure."- he points at the zaps of energy shining and echoing in the tall room.

You gather your senses, prepare your sword and walk past Jisung towards the frame where the door used to be.

"Wait!"- he says and you turn quickly, looking at him expectantly. "Are you sure you're okay to fight?"

"Jisung, we have to fight."- you say with determination and he nods with a sigh before joining you.

"You're going to die!"- a shrill voice yells out and you look up to see a creepy looking woman dressed in a black dress, her hair long and white, her eyes filled with blank whiteness too, as she floats in the air, some kind of light energy around her.

"Cue the dramatic music."- you roll your eyes with a smirk, getting ready to fight.

The woman laughs, "I'm not gonna let you get away!"- she adds, creating an orb of light and throwing it at the two of you.

You bring up your sword in a milisecond, quick enough to swing it and hit the orb like you were playing baseball, throwing it right back at her, making her scream out as it hits her chest.

At the same time, Jisung readies his crossbow and hits her straight in the head but the woman just grips the arrow and slowly pulls it out of her forehead.

She's still alive after that, even after being hurt, and her hands are creating light orbs again.

You hear scratching near you and your worst fear comes true again, she has called upon two angry dogs, ready to rip both you and Jisung into little pieces.

"Oh my god!"- you scream and Jisung quickly pulls his bow up and hits one of the dogs before it can even move.

"Just worry about her, I will get rid of the dogs!"- he yells and you manage to move out of the way of an orb in the last second.

"Okay!"- you take a deep breath and fight with everything you have, trying to hit the orbs and return them back into her, giving her visible damage as she keeps floating closer to the ground, evidently losing strength.

At the same time, Jisung is fighting hard to keep the angry beasts as far away from you as he can.

To his and your surprise, he has a natural talent with the bow just like you do with your sword, like you have done this before, like you do this every day.

The woman screams as she falls to the ground after being hit with her own magic repeatedly, the zapping energy around her dies down as she breathes hard.

You smirk to yourself, noticing that no more dogs are coming out either and you make your way towards her, ready to put an end to her existence.

"Y-you're making a mistake."- she whimpers as she looks up at you.

"Yeah, sure I am."- you lift up your sword.

"If you let him out... chaos will rule."- she says meekly and you chuckle.

"I don't know what you're talking about and I don't care. Goodbye!"- you say and swing your sword, easily decapitating the woman, her body falling down with a thump, slowly disappearing after a few seconds.

"We did it!"- you turn to look at Jisung and see him smiling wide before he makes his way to you, his crossbow clattering to the floor as he wraps his arms around you, lifting you up and making you squeal as he twirls you around.

"We did it!"- he repeats happily and you chuckle, your feet finally touching the ground, the two of you find each other's lips in a fiery kiss.

"Wait- what now?"- you ask, finally looking around.

"There! Those doors weren't there before!"- he points to a door that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Your fingers intertwine as you run, quickly opening the door, only to scream when you realize you're falling through the map.

"Fuck! Hold on!"- Jisung yells as the two of you clutch at each other, waiting for the inevitable impact with the floor.

But what you fall into seems like nothingness, almost as if you're suspended in air.

"Woah!"- Jisung exclaims, wobbling on his feet.

"You okay?"- you ask and he nods quickly.

"Yeah, just a bit dizzy. You?"

"Me too. Let's go over there."- you point to a light in the darkness and as the two of you walk towards an unknown ending, that warm and comforting feeling is back, running through your veins.

You somehow end up in your room, right where you were sitting before shit hit the fan, Jisung right next to you and the smell of burnt plastic coming from your ps.

"Shit, it destroyed my console!"- you whine and Jisung peers at it.

"Can you get a new one?"- he asks as you inspect the shriveled cd.

"Yeah, sure, after three paychecks. Maybe."- you whine again, visibly defeated.

"Hey, we're home though! I mean, your home."- Jisung's cheeks become red as you look up at him, tossing the burnt cd aside.

"Where do you even live?"- you ask.

"W-well obviously not here, but um- if I could stay for a few days, I'd be really grateful. Honestly, I'm kind of disoriented."- he nods quickly.

"Sure."- you shrug with a smirk. "Are you as hungry as I am?"- you ask.

"Starving."

-

After eating a big dinner and taking a much needed warm shower, exhaustion takes over both of your bodies, and you plop down into your bed, Jisung behind you as he nuzzles your neck.

"I like you a lot."- his lips move against your skin.

"That was obvious."- you chuckle.

"Say it back, please!"- he whines, teeth nipping at your neck.

"I like you a lot too."- you say sleepily, your eyes closing.

Jisung leans back a little to look at you, a smile stretches on his face, revealing sharp teeth and a long tongue, eyes glowing yellow as his arms tighten around you, the claws gently scratching at your skin.

Thank you for saving me.

He says in his true demonic voice, thinking you're asleep but you smile to yourself as you feel him press into you, the memories of him in his demon form having his way with you and using you flood your mind.

Finally, you've gotten what you always wanted, something to make your life interesting, to make your deepest and darkest fantasies come true, a sick smile spreads on your face matching the one of the monster behind you.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (6)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!

To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?

Some time before August

New York City

The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.

The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.

After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.

The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.

Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."

"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."

"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "

"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"

Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.

"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.

Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.

Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.

Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.

"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.

"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."

Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.

Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.

The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.

"Sir, I - "

"Bruce."

"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."

"Got a partner?"

Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.

"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.

"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."

"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."

Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."

"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."

"I don't need to see - "

"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.

"You want me to hide my relationship?"

"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"

"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."

"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."

"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.

Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.

"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."

Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.

"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."

"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."

There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.

For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.

There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.

"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."

Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"

Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.

But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Near the end of August

Los Angeles

The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.

"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."

You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."

"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"

You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.

"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."

She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."

You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "

"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."

"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."

It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.

"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."

You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"

"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."

"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."

"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."

You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.

Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."

You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.

All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.

Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.

"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.

He loves you. It was true.

Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.

And that was the problem.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Late September

The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.

The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.

He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.

Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.

It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.

Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.

Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.

And don't think about her.

An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"

Oh fuck.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.

"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."

"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."

"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "

"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"

"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.

"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."

"Oh, you log off?"

"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."

"It can get frivolous, can't it?"

Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.

Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.

Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.

Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...

You must be on FaceTime everyday!

Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?

Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?

...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.

He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.

He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.

You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.

Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.

The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.

How special is the bond between dragon and rider?

What is a funny moment from set that you can share?

How similar are Aemond and Daemon?

All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.

But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?

"Matthew McConaughey - "

You.

" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "

Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.

" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -

You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.

He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.

" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -

Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?

" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."

"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"

"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."

It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.

Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."

Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"

Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?

"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.

And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -

We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.

He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮‍💨

I wonder if she's there behind the scenes

yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!

Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!

Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this

Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.

Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.

All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.

To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.

Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.

Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.

"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.

Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!

Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.

He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.

Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.

Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.

He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.

"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."

"I don't need a breather." I need her.

"Ewan - "

His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."

"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

October

The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"

It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.

You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.

But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.

And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.

Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.

It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.

Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"

You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.

As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.

Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.

It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.

"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.

"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.

"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."

"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.

The rest of the cast.

"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?

Do they know?

Do they secretly hate you for what you did?

"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.

"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.

"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.

"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.

You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.

They notice.

"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.

Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"So you guys know, huh?"

"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "

"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"

"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."

You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.

Your friends know you too well.

"I... I miss him."

Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.

It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.

You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.

"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

November

"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"

Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"

The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.

"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."

"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.

After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.

Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.

They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.

Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.

After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.

"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.

"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.

A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.

Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.

The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.

When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."

Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.

"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"

Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.

While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.

But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.

"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."

Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.

"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?

"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."

"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."

"Is it?"

Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.

Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.

So he says, "She misses you, you know."

Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

"Let's head back inside."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

December

You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.

Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.

Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.

"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.

"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."

"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."

She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."

"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."

The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.

Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.

"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.

You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."

"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"

"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"

She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."

"Any plans for the night?"

She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."

"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"

"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."

"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.

"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."

The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.

It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.

Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.

"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.

"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"

"Why would I - "

"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.

The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.

The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.

A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.

"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."

"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."

"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."

You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.

"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.

A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.

"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."

"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.

It's what you deserve.

"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.

"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"

"I... I can leave if you want - "

"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."

You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.

And he is making you pay for it now.

But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."

Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.

Stay, he asked. So you do.

It's what you should have done, months ago.

"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.

The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.

The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.

"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."

"Feels like a lifetime."

He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"

"How... how can you even ask me that?"

"How can I - "

"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.

"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."

"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.

"Like I said - nothing to fight for."

"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."

"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"

"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.

"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."

"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"

"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."

"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.

The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.

"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"

Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.

Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.

You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.

"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."

"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."

"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."

Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.

How desperately you want it to be true.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?

But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.

Someone familiar to you.

And it's him.

"Ewan?"

"I need to speak with you."

You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.

You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.

When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.

"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."

"I'm sorry - "

"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"

"Ewan, I don't under - "

"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."

"You're kidding."

He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."

His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.

You'll be using each other.

You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?

What, except for him, and for good this time?

What, except everything?

"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy (continued ... )

Some notes in the margins...

Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!

The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk

So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.

Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕

[jnnul]

ric flair drip

a/n: oh my god. it's finished. i've finally written all of her. i genuinely don't know how to explain the relief i feel right now. it feels strange writing this after writing and healing myself through writing this. i hope that anyone in college who's feeling the way y/n or jaehyun did knows that you can and will grow from it. heartbreak is inevitable and so is growth. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 20k

tags: college au!, frat boy!jaehyun x girlboss!y/n, honestly it just a dissertation about modern love and how people nowadays love each other, there's a lot of soul searching in this one, i poured my heart and soul into this please love her the way i do warnings: mentions of sex, underage drinking, and general college shenanigans! also explicit mentions of oral sex, uhhh foreplay and sex

HONESTLY, NOTHING ABOUT JUNG JAEHYUN IS REMOTELY APPEALING TO YOU. you hate the perfect boy act he puts on, you hate his need to impress everyone and everything, and you really fucking hated his dick.

because if it wasn't for his dick, which you were sure is just as perfect as the rest of his stupid self, you wouldn't be awake at inhumane hours, listening to your friend recount their sexcapades.

"oh my god, and then he did this thing with his tongue and i swear, i'm literally never going to be able to have oral again. he's fucking ruined me. i'm genuinely going to just make every guy i fuck put a jaehyun mask on from now onwards just to recreate it," sia yoo, unfortunately one of your best friends, quips dreamily. she yelps when roseanne park, your roommate and singular other voice of reason, throws a pillow at her.

"you sound like a fucking psycho. as in needs to be checked to a mental facility psycho. as in if i hadn't heard worse when you got with johnny suh, i'd be calling the cops right now psycho," roseanne says and easily ducks when sia winds up to throw the pillow back at her. fatima khan, sia's roommate and mother friend extraordinaire, pouts sympathetically with sia as the two of them turn to you as if you would fall on their side.

"sia, baby, honey, love and light of my life - i'm really sorry but i'm with rosie on this one," you say and sia puts on the most theatrical frown you she possibly could before she cocks her head curiously.

"rosie's got a reason for judging jaehyun since she doesn't even like men all that much. what's your excuse, y/n? you like men, judging by the way you were getting railed to next week by that freshie park seonghwa. you've never gotten dicked down by jaehyun."

you're half-tempted so tell sia that it's not fucking weird that you got with seonghwa, considering the fact that you're only a sophomore yourself but you're even more tempted to remind her that even though you were no stranger to a good time, you never recount your stories.

in fact, the only reason why the other three (well, you suppose rosie would know regardless given that you literally live with her) know about your sex life is because you choose to tell them whenever you felt like it. and usually, it was more than three days after the encounter.

you loved your friends, you really did - and sia was notorious for getting into one night stand rehash sessions at ungodly hours, so this was nothing new - but for some reason, every time jaehyun's name came up in the conversation, your skin would prickle with irritation.

maybe it was the fact that every single person around you seemed to be infatuated with him. or the fact that he was just so effortlessly good at capturing the attention of everyone in the room, no matter where he was.

or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you knew that if you looked too closely into the deep end, you'd fall right in with no life jacket. and jaehyun was an endless ocean.

+++

maybe you had given jaehyun too much credit, you lament. maybe jung jaehyun's as deep as a fucking kiddie pool. you know you're wrong because you were in the same english literature class and the man had been published because the professor liked his prose so much, she had submitted it to a literary journal.

and they had accepted it.

but as you stare at him across the lecture hall, burning holes into the poor guy's skull, you sure think he's stupid. because there was no way in fresh hell that jung jaehyun was in an introduction to east asia class. as a south korean.

people begin settling into their seats as you mull over the possibility that jaehyun had fucked so much, his brain had fallen out through his dick. from the stories of his more than above average size, it was definitely not out of the realm of possibility.

just as you're send a very judgmental text to fatima, who was supposed to be taking the class with you but had had to switch last minute when one of her major required classes opened up, jaehyun gets out of his seat to stand at the front of the room, next to the professor.

you realize belatedly that the people jaehyun had been so animatedly speaking to were none other than bambam and ten - two people who most definitely were in this class. and of course, they had chosen this class over all the others because oh my god, jung jaehyun is the uta for this class.

in hindsight, it makes sense, given that jaehyun is a east asian studies minor and a stellar fucking student. but it doesn't make the text you were about to send fatima any less humiliating as you realize your attempts to undermine his character were desperately failing. you try to backtrack on your phone, deleting the winding paragraph you were about to send her when your thumb slips, accidentally sending a half written message.

you: jaehyun is fucking

you're sure the statement will be true within the next couple hours (the jung bed at the nct frat never seemed to stay empty for too long - and that was just from orientation week last week) but it felt almost blasphemous that you would send a text so crude to your friend when you insisted that you couldn't stand his guts.

or what lay between them, really.

three gray dots appear on your screen as you half-heartedly listen to your professor drone on about how he went to china, became a changed man, and now taught about the wonders of east asia and its exoticism. his name was paul but the class could refer to him by his 'enlightened name' - lao ma. even jaehyun rolls his eyes behind the professor's back as all of the asian kids in the classroom begin to eye each other warily.

if this class wasn't so easy, you're sure the population would've shrunk to a quarter its size based on the weirdness of the professor on its own. or maybe not, if it meant that people got to stare at jaehyun's gorgeous face for an hour and a half every monday morning.

mommy tima 🤍: honey, i think whatever sia's got going is contagious. mommy tima 🤍: aren't you the one who hates him? mommy tima 🤍: he really lives in your mind rent free, huh.

you scoff under your breath as you type furiously, vaguely registering that you definitely need to check the syllabus for this class later because you have not been listening to a word the professor has said this whole time.

you: first sia's got cooties or a raging std that's what she's got going you: second he's my fucking uta you: as in i am going to be forced to see his face for an entire semester mommy tima 🤍: drop the class then, babe. you: can't this is too good for my gpa & the prof's a freak you: it's a gpa cushion and a circus in one go

you tuck your phone away when you see that jaehyun is coming up the aisle on your side with a packet while the professor is on the other aisle on the other side with the same packet to hand out. jaehyun probably wouldn't care that you had your phone out during lecture (syllabus week was just an excuse for college kids to get drunk during school days anyway) but it was the principle of the thing.

"here you go - oh, it's stuck together," jaehyun says as he stops at where you're sitting. his tongue slips out as he thumbs at the packet to give you one instead of three and suddenly, your treacherous brain takes you back to sia's rambling the night before.

and then he did this thing with his tongue...

you're shaken back to reality when you realize that you're staring at a blank wall, with a pink packet in front of you, and jaehyun has already reached the back of the classroom.

fuck. shit. bitch.

jaehyun had seen you stare at his stupidly handsome face and then some. he was your ta. oh my god, what if he docked points on some test because he thought you were the creepy stalker type.

damn you, sia yoo, you curse in your head.

+++

"damn you, sia yoo!" you yell over the blaring music that's so loud, you can feel the vibrations in your skull. there absolutely no reason you should be caught dead in a frat on the friday of syllabus week but sia had made it her mission to make sure you had a going out rate of at least 80% this school year, given that you were prone to trying to skip out on weekends out last year.

not that you didn't like going out - you actually really liked going out with your friends. you just took a little more inertia to get to the energy levels of actually going on.

sia just nods at you lazily as she bounces to the beat of another shitty remix of 'what you came for' by calvin harris and rihanna. you never understood why frats always found the worst remixes of classic party bangers but anything flew after you had enough alcohol in your system so the music would recede to the depths of your mind in a couple cups of whatever the fuck this drink was.

especially since you were a full sunshine drunk; whenever you were drunk, you became the life of the party and would always be found in the center of the room, regardless of the music. sia was a flirty drunk and you really couldn't remember the last time sia actually spent the entire weekend in her own bed. props to her stamina, honestly.

rosie was a mix of you and sia in that she would become so much more bubbly but the second she found someone she wanted to spend the night with, she went after them with no hesitation.

fatima usually played the role of sober mommy when you all went out. although she was never one to miss out on a good time, when she did get drunk, she much preferred it to be within the confines of the four walls that she shared with her roommate and the people she trusted the most - you, rosie, and sia.

which is why when rosie abandons you for her on again, off again fuck buddy (miyeon cho) and her fuck buddy (yugyeom kim), you're not surprised at all.

"that's going to be an interesting story in the morning," you say, nodding to where rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom are all heading upstairs together. fatima nudges you to look at sia, where she's pressed up against none other than johnny suh (or the love of her life, prior to jaehyun, apparently).

"that's going to be an interesting story in the afternoon," fatima counters. you turn to her with furrowed eyebrows, as if to question the timing. "i don't think i've ever heard of a girl leaving johnny's bed before 3 o'clock the next afternoon."

your jaw hangs in shock as you watch your friend wrap her arms around the tall man's neck, whispering something into his ear when he bends down to kiss her collarbone.

"are all of the nct boys secretly porn stars or something? how can they all be that good in bed?" you gape, waving at sia when she turns around to wink at you and fatima as her and johnny are bustling out of the door, undoubtedly to the nct frat house.

"they test us as part of rushing," says a low, velvety voice behind you. a hot rush of shame runs up your spine for two reasons: a) you were able to recognize jung jaehyun just from his voice and b) he heard you gossiping about his frat brothers' sexual prowess.

you exchange a look with fatima before whipping around to meet jaehyun eye to eye. he's wearing a plain black t-shirt and lightwash distressed jeans but he might as well be wearing designer trash bags for all you care. what you do care about, unfortunately, is the almost slutty way his v-neck dips to show off the beginnings of the planes of his chest.

you feel no better than a victorian man and it takes fatima a poorly concealed cough to break you out of your thoughts. fuck, you'd done it again. you really needed to stop getting caught up in jung jaehyun's pretty face. and body. and that stupid smile.

"haha. very funny. sounds like something straight out of a cheesy porno sponsored by viagra or something," you say, rolling your eyes. smooth. very smooth. normally, you like to think that you're proficient in the witty banter department but something about this boy made you almost feel dumb about your comebacks.

jaehyun cocks an eyebrow, and you're distinctly made aware that even with platform sneakers on, jaehyun is a good head taller than you when you have to look upwards to notice the motion. "you seem to be well versed, y/n. you make it a habit to stay up to date?"

you flush at the thinly veiled euphemism at your x-rated movie watching habits before clearing your throat. "i'm more of a fan of practical study, really. i am a scientist, after all."

you're aware that fatima has slipped away from you to talk to another friend, park jeonghwa, and also the fact that you are slowly beginning your descent into drunkenness but you can't seem to bring yourself to find the caution in it all. it's just jaehyun, after all.

jaehyun hums, bringing the solo cup in his hand to his lips to take a swig. "you're a biomedical engineering major, aren't you?"

you balk at that. "wait, wait. you know my name and my major?"

jaehyun nods slowly, seemingly stumbling for a moment before he gains his self-confidence once more. "you don't know mine?"

"you're literally my ta. i know you're an east asian studies minor and your name because you told the class," you say, recovering quickly. it was a really good thing you were a quick thinker because you were lying through your teeth.

you knew jaehyun's name, minor, and even major (computer science) because of his notorious reputation, not because he was your ta. but the last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of asserting his popularity on campus.

"anyway. what was that you were saying about 'practical study'?" jaehyun's eyes twinkle in the dim lighting of the cramped basement you were in and you had a feeling that if you were any more inebriated, you'd be diving headfirst into jung jaehyun's bed as long as he looked at you like that.

but fortunately (unfortunately?) you're sober enough to make mostly intelligent decisions - which just means that you're not going to jump headfirst. maybe feet first but not headfirst.

"wouldn't you like to know," you sing-song, leaning into jaehyun's body enough to smell the mix of woody pine, fresh water, and vodka that seems to emanate from him. jaehyun watches you as you lean over him to grab another solo cup from the assortment that some lower ranked frat brother had been forced into bartending.

you down the entire drink in two swigs, patting away the stray stream of alcohol that had dripped down onto your chest. you don't notice the way jaehyun's eyes follow your hand down its descent to your chest. but you finally feel like your element, and in a moment of sheer idiocy and liquid courage, you enter the growing throng of bodies behind you, beckoning jaehyun to follow you.

you're not 100% sure what you want from him, honestly. you want to have a good time, and you're sure you'll have one with or without him. but something about the way jaehyun follows you like a puppy into the mess of people makes you feel like a zap of electricity has hit your body.

and if you're being completely honest with yourself (as you usually only are with ethanol in your system), you really didn't hate jaehyun. you had no qualms with him as a person, even if you hated the consequences that came with a night with him.

it's when you're in the middle of the crowd, with jaehyun looking at you with those hooded eyes and hands tucked into his pockets when you realize what you want from jaehyun jung.

you want him to desire you the way that his mere presence makes people desire him.

so you do what you do best and just let go. it's ric flair drip by metro boomin that's playing - a song that's definitely not the one to get down to. but the bass fills you up in a way that never hits the same outside of a sweaty frat basement so you can't even bring yourself to care.

"i'm tryna fuck you and your bestie," you sing along with the near hundred people surrounding you. jaehyun is still looking at you with an eyebrow sitting higher and an appraising expression; something that somehow manages to get under your skin.

in a moment of passion, you manage to hook your fingers into one of jaehyun's belt loops, pulling him closer to you. you're aware that you've painted yourself to be jaehyun's next conquest if the way that the girls next to you look upset means anything, but you couldn't care less.

especially when you're this close to the bane of your existence. the song switches to something a little more what you need (under the influence by chris brown) and you look up at jaehyun through your lashes and in that moment, jaehyun knows what you're offering him through your gaze.

a challenge.

+++

jaehyun never really meant to take on the role of nct's resident whore. in fact, jaehyun had been planning on doing the exact opposite when he came to college.

although it was unbelievable now, jaehyun jung had originally just been a very strange, nerdy, and sweet boy. he never got up to much trouble, kept to himself most of the time, and was known for...nothing, really. he was sweet and bubbly but he wasn't exactly running with the popular crowd.

in fact, jaehyun was kinda forgotten all throughout his schooling. it was easy to forget about jaehyun, as though he were some visage in a dream that everyone shared.

it hurt.

so when jaehyun finally hit his growth spurt in senior year, started going to the gym, and his voice no longer cracked every other sentence, he felt like a whole new person. like he was finally the main character in his own life.

it felt so fucking good to look at the same girls who had smiled at him pitifully and have them melting under a single wink. the summer between high school and college had been wild, with more stories than jaehyun could really even care to keep track of.

but when college began, jaehyun was fully intending to return to flying under the radar with his new upgrade in personality, appearance, and wardrobe. with a face like his, however, doing so was about as easy as trying to pass professor yoon's intro to bio class - nearly impossible.

slowly but surely, jaehyun morphed back into the personality he had adopted that summer and surprisingly, it wasn't as foreign as he thought. he was still a good student and wasn't a stranger to having to skip out on hanging out with his friends to study.

but having a new girl in his bed every other day? that was definitely new. a new revelation, but a welcome one nonetheless.

and in that, jaehyun was used to people using all sorts of tactics to get with him. playing hard to get, with coy smiles and flirtatious winks. or the bold ones, who told him straight up that they wanted to spend the night with him. even the downright horrifying ones who tried to pretend like they were blackout drunk in hopes that that would 'attract' him. spoiler alert? it didn't.

jaehyun originally thought you were of the 'hard to get' caliber. the type of girl to say that she wasn't like other girls and that's why he should get with her instead. so initially, when he approached you at the party after seeing you in his class, he was mentally preparing himself for the whole pick me speech.

but it was something about the way you looked at him.

it was like two halves of your mind were battling against each other. on one hand, you looked like you wanted to fax jaehyun straight into the fiery pits of hell with high speed shipping. on the other, it also seemed like you wanted nothing more than to ride him until the sun came up. mixed with a little bit of curiosity, confusion, and downright anger with yourself for all the emotions, you looked like the perfect cocktail of firebrand that jaehyun couldn't help but become intrigued by.

so when you were laughingly talking to your best friend (jaehyun's frat brother kun was half in love with fatima, which meant that jaehyun was more than well acquainted with her) about him and frat brothers, he took it to be the opportunity he needed.

and when you're looking at him like this, daring him to make a move, almost as if to make your mind fall one way or another about drawing a conclusion on him, what is jaehyun to do but to make good on the challenge you've offered?

he watches you for a moment more, trying to commit the memory of what you look like when you're this carefree and happy, before taking the micro-step it takes to get so close he can smell the citrus and apple cider that you seem to always smell like.

"i promise you i can fuck you better than johnny," jaehyun says, a corner of his lips tilted up as your eyes flutter the closer he draws.

"johnny's your 'bestie'?" you say, and jaehyun can tell that the last threads of your resolve are starting to snap by the way that your hand is now pressed against his chest.

"that's what you're curious about right now? the dynamics of the nct frat brothers?" jaehyun asks but he knows that this back and forth is exactly you need right now; the time to decide if you can take the plunge. or if jaehyun's worth your time tonight.

"as i mentioned, i'm a scientist," you say, and even as your voice stays stable, your fingers seem to leave burning trails against jaehyun's skin as they dip and feed into crevices of jaehyun's body that he didn't even know existed.

"hmm," jaehyun manages to eke out when your fingers lace into his hair. he's not sure how you manage to find every single sensitive spot he has but he's fairly impressed by the way you catch his breath hitching as you work your other hand up as well.

"hmm? cat got your tongue, jaehyun?" you say, making sure that jaehyun looks straight into your eyes as you lean impossibly closer. "you know that sia's with johnny right now, right? girls talk - especially with your best friends. which means that if you can't make good on your promise, i will find out."

jaehyun feels like he's sweating like a pig but thankfully, you don't notice, too busy making him sweat. he clears his throat once, and then twice to make sure that his voice doesn't give out.

"that right?" he says, and you roll your eyes, letting go of him and stepping back. you seem to appraise him for a moment (and jaehyun is unnaturally nervous about what you will decide) before grabbing his hand and leading him to the door. you only pause to flag down fatima, who takes one look at your intertwined hands, and waves the two of you away.

jaehyun blushes like a schoolgirl at the way fatima flashes him a catty smile.

"i swear to god, jaehyun, if you're all talk and no game - or if you're gonna sit still and look pretty the whole time - i will literally blue ball you. i don't do pillow princes," you throw over your shoulder as the two of you make your way to the nct frat. jaehyun knows for a fact that the nct frat will not be a quiet place tonight by the number of dresses and pants he sees in the foyer and leading the way up the stairs.

he says nothing, even as you're quite nearly storming up the stairs with a certain level of urgency, almost as though if you were to slow down and think about just exactly what you're doing, you'd turn around and leave right now.

jaehyun definitely can't let that happen.

so the second that he gets you into his bedroom (he had to rock, paper, scissors with doyoung to get the room tonight), he shuts the door and locks it behind him. he turns around to see you looking between the two beds, as if trying to guess which one was jaehyun's.

he mentally pats himself on the back when he sees the fresh sheets on the bed. reaching where you stand in less than a stride, jaehyun turns you so that you're facing his bed, and you squirm to turn to meet his eyes even as his hands are on your waist.

"what is with your hands?" you ask harshly and jaehyun blinks as he looks down.

"what do you mean? they're on your waist," jaehyun says softly, and once again, he's hit with a wave of citrus and apple cider. you simper at him, grabbing his wrist and moving it incriminatingly downwards.

"what am i? a virgin? put them somewhere useful." you whisper the last part and it's as though jaehyun has just woken up.

"you know," jaehyun begins, sliding his other hand downwards to sit comfortably on the curve of your ass. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were trying to rile me up. i wonder..."

he doesn't finish his thought, instead pulling you close so that your hips are pressed against his. he can hear the gasp that you're desperately trying to conceal, coughing uselessly to the side. a devilish smirk grows on jaehyun's lips and for the first time in a long time, you're sure you're going to be up all night.

+++

you were, in fact, trying to rile him up. you had heard all the rumors about jaehyun and johnny, about how one night with them was like one night in heaven. hell, you'd had first hand accounts from sia yoo about exactly what it's like to be in bed with either of them - multiple times.

so when jaehyun had fronted with such a cautious attitude when he realized what you wanted, you were almost offended. if you wanted to take control and fuck a man's brains out, you could do that with anyone. why would you fight against your own mind this much to get with him?

but seonghwa park. changkyun im. even kun qian, before you discovered he was head over heels for fatima. jung jaehyun.

these were all people who put you in your place. the way you wanted to be. it just seemed as though jaehyun might've needed a little more persuasion to get there.

so yes, you were riling him up. was that such a crime?

by the way jaehyun's looking at you right now, his breath hot and heavy on your neck and his eyes dark with a feeling that you can't describe but resonates with you on a deeper, more primal level.

"you know, after you got with kun, he wouldn't shut up about it for a week," jaehyun says, pressing kisses down your neck, pausing when he reaches your breastbone. he eyes your corset top with a discerning eye before reaching behind you to pull the lace strings that were precariously holding your top for a week.

"yeah?" you ask, threading your fingers through jaehyun's thick hair as he makes quick work of your top, leaving it pooled on the floor as his lips find your chest as though he couldn't be physically parted from it.

"yeah. even after he met fatima, he said that you were the best he's ever had - that's a big reputation to live up to when you're in nct," jaehyun says, his voice breathy and deep as he walks you backwards so that the back of your knees hit the frame of his bed.

"hmm. what can i say? i know what i want and what i want is usually lots of fun," you say, letting jaehyun unzip your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them off when jaehyun moves too slowly.

"i know. god, after knowing that you and kun were going at it, i swear everyone was jerking off in their room for an hour. even winwin wanted to go for you today. you're an unpredictable woman; no one knows where and when you're going to show up to one of the parties so everyone has to take their chances when they get them," jaehyun says, tugging his shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind him carelessly.

you nearly melt when you see jaehyun's uncovered top, eyeing each and every hard ridge of his body, reaching out to touch him. his chest is almost soothingly warm as your fingers memorize each and every aspect of the planes of his chest, almost worried that they might disappear if you let go.

jaehyun looks at you amusingly as he lets your fingers dance across his body, focusing on tugging your panties off to discard them where he's sure he's going to have to search for them later on.

you pout when you see the difference in clothing but jaehyun just gently pushes you backwards so that your back is against his bed, leaving your pussy exposed in away that makes you feel absolutely mortified. you move to gain some level of privacy back but jaehyun is too fast, gripping onto your thighs incriminatingly as he raises an eyebrow.

"don't think that i'm soft just because i'm being nice to you now, pretty girl. i know you don't like to listen but don't hide from me. i will not let you have any fun if you try to hide from me," jaehyun says, his voice dropping a full octave. you suppress the shiver that runs through your body (and that simultaneously delights jaehyun) as you nod softly.

he seems satisfied by the way your body melts and rewards you for your submission by licking a wet strip up your pussy, one hand snaking up to touch your nipple while the other one keeps your thighs open.

jaehyun is slow at first, exploring each and every hidden crevice of your body but as he feels you get wetter and wetter, he can't seem to stay soft for too long. he continues to press his lips against yours but the moment you try to grind your hips against his lips, he pulls away, his tongue darting out to taste your essence on him.

you almost whine at the loss of his hot mouth on your pussy, and you're embarrassed to realize that in front of jaehyun jung, you are no better than your best friend in falling in love with the way he moves.

"you're not going to cum from my tongue, baby," jaehyun says, practically ripping the belt out from where it was caging his jeans. "especially when i know that your pussy is magic."

"you say that, jaehyun, but you're being so fucking soft. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you're in love with me," you snort, trying to catch your breath. jaehyun freezes from where his boxers are hanging so low on his hips, you can see the muscles in his pelvis tense angrily as he looks at you dangerously.

"my fucking bad for making sure you're wet enough to take me," jaehyun whispers, pulling close to you. his eyes turn even darker than usual and a small spark of excitement ignites in your chest when you realize that you've finally reached it - jaehyun's breaking point.

"sounds like you're scared, jaehyun. you know what? you know why kun was so good? because he wasn't scared. he wasn't scared to fuck me like he was trying to break the bed," you retort, and saying kun's name is when jaehyun finally snaps. he tears his boxers off as he pushes you so that you're further up on his bed.

"y/n, i'm not fucking joking around. if you want me to stop, say it now. just say the word, and i'll pretend like this never happened. because i swear to every god in existence, if you let me, i'll ruin every other man for you," jaehyun says and his knuckles turn white from how hard his clenching his fingers to keep himself from pouncing. the thought is almost cute if you weren't desperate to be fucked into next week.

"if i wanted you to stop, i wouldn't have said kun's name, would i?"

that's all it takes. no sooner do the words leave your mouth, jaehyun's on top of you, every inch of his body fighting to claim yours. he's not sure what it is about being with a bratty girl but every time a girl tries to challenge him, jaehyun can feel his excitement grow as his mind runs wild with ways to prove you wrong.

and with a girl as beautiful and sexy as you? he was going to have the time of his life.

time of his life he does.

+++

when jaehyun wakes up, he's almost happy. almost because he has bruises on his hips from how hard he had pounded into you, a litter of hickeys across his chest, and freshly washed hair from when you had enticed him into taking a shower with you.

inevitably, it led to another hour in the shower that jaehyun had spent having his soul sucked out from his dick, eating you out under the shower, and seeing you cum twice just from his tongue.

if only he had woken up with you still in his bed, jaehyun would've actually been happy.

realistically, jaehyun had no clue what he was expecting. after taking a shower, it had taken you a total of five minutes to fall asleep in his arms, wearing nothing but jaehyun's oversized t-shirt and your panties.

there was no pillowtalk, no heart to hearts, nothing. no discussions of having whatever happened last night happening again. no trying to get to know each other better.

not that you had ever been obligated to do so. if anything, jaehyun was far more obligated to do so, after practically declaring that he had wanted to get with you since last semester - which he had been completely serious about.

but with his reputation, regardless of what he had said last night, jaehyun's almost 100% sure that you would've disappeared by the morning.

he's so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the bright pink post-it note on his neatly folded shirt on his desk in the corner of the room.

9.5/10. if you see sia, tell her she was right about your tongue. see you in intro to east asia on monday.

jaehyun's half disappointed and half happy. disappointed because you'd never left your number or anything and happy because at least he knew that you weren't going to completely avoid him whenever you ran into each other next.

he shakes his head as he folds the post-it note and throws it in the trash can next to his desk.

jaehyun jung may not have started college with the intention of becoming the resident fuckboy but he still had a reputation to maintain. he had fucked countless women over his time at sm university and he had no intention of falling for any of them.

he was not about to get soft-hearted or soft-dicked by a girl he was with once.

even if she was really good in bed. like really really good. like good enough to make him think about the other boys she's been with and if they'd made you feel as good as he did.

fuck. her. which jaehyun had already done. which meant that he needed to move onto the next step of the day before his head exploded with all of the implications flying around in his mind about their relation to each other (nonexistent) and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking of you (you weren't).

he pads out of his room, passing doyoung on the way out, who claps him on the back and says, "you finally got with y/n?" jaehyun doesn't know how doyoung knows but it strikes him that neither of you are very subtle people and you had caused quite the scene leaving with him last night.

similar reactions are offered to him by everyone he passes. he's not really sure how many of the boys you've been with but jaehyun can feel his street cred go up by at least a decameter with the way some of these pledges are looking at him.

in fact, everyone is looking at him with a new look of respect in their eyes until he reaches the kitchen, where yoo sia and johnny are sitting, practically eye-fucking.

jaehyun was very used to seeing johnny's friends in the kitchen the next day, neither of them ready to really say goodbye each other yet but for some reason, knowing that sia was your best friend and seeing her with johnny sets jaehyun's stomach into a series of knots that he was sure he was going to have to unravel when he had his head on straight.

"she already left?" sia says, finally breaking her stare from johnny's. jaehyun shrugs, digging around the fridge to see if they had any coffee. they didn't (none that wasn't expired anyway) so he has to settle for a caprisun.

"she had somewhere to be," jaehyun says. he wants to ask sia if it's normal for you to leave that early. it can't be if sia seems surprised that you'd left before the clock struck ten. what did that mean? what does that say about jaehyun? oh god. what if you hated it. what if you hated it so much that you didn't want to spend a second longer with jaehyun.

he cringes as he locks eyes with another shiny eyed pledge (jaehyun thinks his name is jungwoo) and tries to shake his head to clear any and all thoughts of you. he was pussydrunk. that was the only explanation. he just needed to dick down someone else and then he would get over whatever little infatuation thing he had going on.

"really? hmm..." sia says finally. jaehyun turns to see her looking right at him and suddenly, he's transported back to the previous weekend, when sia had been wrapped up in his sheets.

+++

"why did you start fucking around like this?" sia had asked, her chest still heaving from their previous illicit activities as she wraps herself tighter in jaehyun's sheets. jaehyun pauses for a moment as he catches his breath, pulling on his boxers as he thinks. he throws the shirt that sia's grabbing at, still not sure how to piece together his thoughts.

or why he wants to tell sia the truth. maybe it's because no one's ever asked about it before, but jaehyun feels strangely vulnerable as sia watches as he clambers back into his bed, her expression pensive and uncharacteristically wise.

"i don't know," jaehyun says honestly, laying over the covers as he feels his face grow hotter under sia's unrelenting stare. "i think it's because i wanted to know what it felt like. to know what it felt like to be wanted for a night instead of just being in the sidelines as the guy with the potential. just the guy that people brought along as the friend of the hot guys that kept him around."

sia doesn't say anything, instead turning so that she was lying on her back. jaehyun turns to look at her, to see if he could decipher some level of understanding from her silence. really, he knows that he should feel embarrassed about confessing his insecurities to a girl that he's hooked up with two or three times but he can't bring himself to for some reason.

maybe it's because he knows that she wouldn't say anything about it to anyone. or because he knows that she's head over heels for johnny, whether she'd admit it or not. or maybe it's just because for the first time, someone had asked something about jaehyun just to get to know him as a person, rather than trying to get him in their bed.

not that he really minded that - it just made him feel like it was all a lot more transactional than he was used to. he had been a romantic once upon a time. when you grew up with the nickname of 'valentine boy', it would have been stranger if he didn't have some sense of romance.

but jaehyun's penchant for romance disappeared almost just as soon as he realized that no one else was yearning for a pure type of love like he was.

and yet, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. turns out that jaehyun's a very adaptable man. if he wouldn't find love in this decade, then perhaps it would be lust that he would have to settle for.

"then again," he begins, gaze darting over to where sia had slipped on his t-shirt as she tiredly begins to settle down in his bed once more. "isn't that what everyone is doing nowadays? looking for a warm body for the night, instead of a genuine connection?"

sia snorts at that, turning so that she was facing jaehyun now. "don't tell me that you're one of the boomer types. the ones who always go around peacocking about how they were born in the wrong generation and that they're one of the 'good guys'. i might actually leave right now if you are."

"no, no i'm not. well. maybe a little bit. but i don't know why that's so bad to be honest," jaehyun acquiesces finally. sia rolls her eyes, but even she goes quiet for a moment. once again, jaehyun's reminded that this is sia yoo - a girl who routinely wakes up in someone else's sheets every saturday (although it was johnny's more often than not) and as sexist as it was, someone who carried a reputation for it. even jaehyun was surprised to find that she was such a deep conversationalist.

of course, he mentally berates himself soon after but he can't help the thought. for him, sia was just the girl he would get with a couple times. a good time. the fact that that's the only role she fulfilled in his mind made him feel disgusting inside out as he waits for her response, vowing that he would work to change his mindset. or maybe just change personalities altogether. ick.

"you know one of my best friends? y/n? the one who got with kun before he decided to go clean for fatima?" sia says with a careful tone. jaehyun nods, not trusting that he wouldn't say something dumb after his sudden realization of his flawed thinking.

"this is something she always says but it's honestly pretty simple: love is however you want to define it. humans spend so much trying to find labels and definitions for things that just might not have or need them. for such an advanced species, we spend so much time concerned about how to put a feeling into a box or how to classify a thought instead of rejoicing in the fact that we had such a beautiful feeling in the first place."

"for people in this generation, the old school love is hard to find because they've got so many other types of love that weren't allowed back when old school love was big. it's a different type of freedom to love someone on the weekends but never to fall in love with them. maybe we're just romanticizing hookup culture but who's to say that we can't? maybe we're all more romantic than we want to admit. maybe when we fall into the sheets with someone we barely know, we're looking for a fragment of love to satiate our heart in ways we didn't know it needed."

jaehyun doesn't know what to say to that so he just pulls her closer to him and she lets him, throwing her leg over his as they fall asleep, closer to each other than they had ever been.

+++

you're not sure what had compelled you to leave so quickly that morning. you usually like to get the boys who sleep with to at least cook you breakfast before you left (for compensation of being terrible in bed, if the situation so called for it) but for some reason, every instinct in your body had pulled you to leave.

you had waken up at nearly 5 in the morning, a mere two and a half hours after the two of you had fallen asleep, gathered your clothes, and were about to leave when you turn to look at jaehyun, still snoring away peacefully, his arm crossing his body to rest on the empty space next to him that you had occupied previously.

you had a feeling that you're going to lament leaving this early after psychoanalyzing why you were leaving so early later in the day but for now, if your gut was telling you to leave, you were going to heed the precautions.

but even as you're about to leave, you find yourself turning to jaehyun's desk, sparse but somehow still a little messy as you rummage for a post-it note and a pen to write with. you grin to yourself when you find yourself successful (and endearing somehow that jaehyun has bright pink post-it notes).

you pass a brother on the way out (undoubtedly a freshman who had received the short stick of the duties tonight) but you wave him off when he offers to walk you home. dangerous? most definitely. but you really needed the time and space to yourself and the short, almost ten minute walk back to your apartment would offer some enlightenment.

spoiler alert: it didn't. no matter how hard you wracked your brain to come up with some version of a logical explanation, you realized that there was just simply no way to do so.

and something about that frustrated you. you knew it wasn't a big deal. jaehyun was just a hook-up. a one night stand. and yet...something wasn't fitting right in your mind. so you start to think in the only way you know how, collecting all of the pieces of information you did have.

a) you just had sex - mind-blowing sex with jaehyun. he was everything you expected and more when it came to a sexual partner. b) you didn't develop feelings for him. sex comes fifth on the list of things you subconsciously (or now consciously, since you've spoken it into existence) have when looking for a potential boyfriend. first comes personality, then intelligence, then ambition, then looks, and then sex. you didn't even have a conversation long enough to figure out if jaehyun had more than three brain cells to piece together. c) jaehyun jung had confessed that he had wanted to get with you since last semester. did he mean with you-r body or with you?

you shake your head as if to physically shake the irrational thoughts in your mind out and press your id against the scanner at the entrance of your apartment building, rubbing your fingers against your temples as you get into the elevator to reach your apartment.

unlocking the door to your (empty) apartment, you decide to shelf the thoughts for some time when your head wasn't pounding and collapse on your bed, thanking the lords you'd had the sense to take a shower at jaehyun's.

and the last thing you remember is the smell of jaehyun's shampoo in your hair as you drift into blissful, dreamless sleep.

+++

you're not surprised to feel a weight on your bed when you wake up the next morning. you blearily open your eyes to make out sia's general figure, rosie and fatima undoubtedly chatting quietly in the kitchen.

you vaguely piece together something about fatima having kun over but him sleeping on the couch and you try to push down the guilt that creeps up into your brain as you realize that you had left fatima alone at the party. a party where all of you knew a lot of people (and the outcome was just as everyone had thought it would be) but the principle of the matter stung nonetheless.

you push aside the thought - along with the idea that you should probably apologize to fatima when the cottony feeling in your mouth started to subside - in favor of looking at sia, who is strangely quiet as she watches you gather yourself. for her boisterous personality, sia yoo could see through anyone to the extent of theorized telepathy so you don't even bother trying to hide anything from her.

although, it really is hard to take her seriously when she's got hickey's littered across her neck. well. you suppose you don't look much better at the moment.

"you left before 10 o'clock," sia says simply. you don't pretend to not understand what she means as you nod, pushing yourself up on your bed as fatima and rosie also enter, rosie handing you a glass of water.

"i know," you say softly. "but i want to hear about everyone else's nights right now. i just don't know that i'm in the right headspace to think about why i left so early - i'm not even sure i know why i left so early."

sia says nothing for a moment, watching your face, almost as if she were trying to read your very essence. but she relents, reaching out to hold your hand briefly before completely switching up, speaking animatedly about her very adventurous night, leaving you to simmer in your thoughts.

had sia always been this smart? probably. who's to say that she wasn't, after all?

turns out that sia and johnny were actually going to go on a date on wednesday, after realizing that their chemistry extended further out of the bedroom than either of them had expected. sia was through the roof, obviously, given that she had been thirsting over johnny (although more in a sexual sense than anything else) for so long.

rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom also worked a lot better than any of them had thought so you were sure that you were going to lose your roommate to the other '97 liners more often for the foreseeable future.

fatima was the only one who had a pg night, with kun coming over to her apartment and just chilling together the whole night, eventually having him sleep over since he was too tired to walk back to the apartment that he lived out (it was on the other side of campus, given that he moved out of the nct house pretty late into the semester last year).

"speaking of kun, when are you guys gonna make it official? i mean after this year, you guys are going to only have one year together before you guys graduate," you say, bunching your comforter before letting go. it felt weird saying that. especially in regards to your friends. theoretically, you had all the time in the world together.

but all the time in the world wasn't enough when it came to these girls.

fatima sighs before getting up, wringing her hands together as she thinks. "i don't know. i mean kun's graduating a year early so i really only have this year left. i - i know how much he likes me. i know that he wants to do this right way. go the whole nine yards."

"but...?" rosie says, elongating the syllables as you and sia look at her patiently. fatima shakes her head, getting up to walk around the room, six paces enough to take her from one side of your room to the other.

"i just don't know. kun's great and honestly, i really think that's the one. or at least one of the ones for me. but i just don't know if my parents would be okay with it. i mean my parents are great! they give me so much freedom and honestly, i'm really thankful that my parents allowed me to find religious and spiritual freedom on my own, without ever trying to shove it down my throat."

"but at the same time...how can i betray their trust in me by dating someone who is so far from my religion? like. kun is a great guy but he's not muslim. and sure, i don't follow a lot of the stricter things in islam but i - i have god in my heart. and i don't know that god would want me to start a family that doesn't follow islam. especially since i can see that in my future with kun and kun - i don't know that i could ask kun to convert to another religion for me."

the room is silent for a little bit after fatima finishes, with her collapsing in your bed next to you. rosie and sia exchange a look with each other, and then you, as they both decide to leave the room, leaving you to console fatima.

you were always the most philosophical one out of the bunch anyway.

"look, fatima, i can't pretend to know what it's like to have that kind of mental burden and i really can't understand what it's like to think about the future and be concerned about the impact on the world you might create. i read about something the other day though - did you know that kun means 'manifesting' or 'believing' in arabic?" fatima looks at you with disbelief written all over her face, shaking her head.

"how did you know that?" she asks and you just shrug, nodding at the 'islam for dummies' book you had bought in hopes of understanding a little bit more about one of your closest friend's religion.

"that's not the point. but fatima, you are the single kindest, most beautiful person i know. and i have faith that you will choose what's right for you, not what's right for the people around you because you know better than everyone that the only person who can judge you is god. and no one - no one - on this earth has the right to take that peace away from you."

fatima is silent before wrapping you in her arms, the soft material of her hoodie comforting you and lulling you back into a sleep that's dreamless and calm.

+++

jaehyun doesn't know what to expect when he walks into intro to east asia on monday. should he say hi? wave? start a conversation? should he acknowledge that he spent the better part of his weekend wondering if he would lose his fuckboy status if someone realized just how down bad he was for you?

probably anything but the last one was a good idea.

jaehyun was not in a good state of mind. he was a hot 19 year old man with a near perfect gpa (a whopping 3.98 only because he got a singular a-), a not so terrible set of dimples, and a killer body. and yet he was walking around like how he had been prior to his enlightening summer.

it's almost freeing but also humiliating to think that one night in bed was enough to make him start an entire philosophy but that was where jaehyun was at so who was he to question anything, really?

in fact, jaehyun is so caught up in what he would name his new branch of philosophy (loserism, with a lot of inspiration from zeno) that he doesn't even realize that you've already walked past him and taken your seat.

third row, first seat. you're putting your bag down next to your chair, pulling out your laptop, tossing your hair over your shoulder when it falls in your face. jaehyun tears his eyes away, knowing that this was not a good look for him.

if jaehyun really wanted to pursue you, which he was sure was where all of his jumbled emotions were eventually going to lead him anyway, he knew for a fact that you weren't going to be interested in having to take the lead. especially if jaehyun wasn't even sure that you were interested in the possibility.

but that's a struggle for another day. what was it that stephanie laurens said? that all women want sometimes is a little old-fashioned loving?

that was, in fact, the opposite of what sia had said you were really into but jaehyun had a sneaking suspicion that you wouldn't mind handing the reigns over in the decision making process portion of a relationship, or the courtship, if your time together this weekend alluded to anything.

jaehyun almost misses the beginning of the lecture, where professor ma (no one actually calls him that besides himself) was going into some of his favorite places to stay during his time in china. and while missing any portion of professor ma's lecture was of no crime, he also almost misses the way that you're looking straight at him, faking a yawn when jaehyun finally locks eyes with you.

professor ma was known for giving stellar recommendation letters (which was why johnny had coerced jaehyun into ta'ing for his class in the first place) but he was such a pain in the ass.

jaehyun has to keep from laughing out loud when he sees your exaggerated gestures to show how boring you were finding the professor's lecture to be, pulling himself together in time for him to finally be able to take a seat in the back of the classroom, professor ma having asked him to take attendance for the some two hundred students in the classroom. by hand.

he almost drops the piece of paper that you slide into his hand, subtly slipping it into the pocket of his basketball shorts as makes his way up the flight of stairs to the tenth row, dropping his backpack on the floor next to him, in a rush to open the delicate piece of paper in his hands.

there's only three words on the piece of paper and a series of dashes and yet jaehyun knows that this is all he needs. this is all the signal he needs to know that he wasn't imagining the chemistry or the tension between the two of you. and fuck what anyone said about his 'reputation'; it was jaehyun's turn - the old jaehyun's turn - to get the chance to experience the relationship he had always been dreaming of.

he rereads the little piece of paper before smiling and tucking it into his pocket again.

earn the rest. 9__-___-____.

+++

johnny suh is getting whiplash from his best friend's actions.

one day, he's asking sia yoo if her best friend usually leaves her one night stands by the time they wake up. then he's throwing said one night stand's notes into the trash can before leaving for some frat meeting or another.

the next day, he's carrying another note from the same one night stand he can't seem to get out of his head.

jaehyun doesn't tell johnny anything. he really doesn't need to at this point. johnny suh is a senior in college and he's pretty much seen it all. he's also the vice president of a frat - which means that even if he didn't have all the experience that he did just because of his seniority, he definitely seen it because of the sheer number of stupid decisions frat brothers will find themselves making when they think they're going to either a) get drunk b) get high c) get their dick wet.

johnny knows it's all in good fun (fun that he's definitely not opposed to) but jaehyun's always been a little bit of an enigma when it came to all of it. he was good at the drinking and alright at the getting high and absolutely fan-fucking-tastic at the getting his dick wet.

it was the goddamn dimples. everyone always fell for the dimples.

and sure, while jaehyun had had crushes before (johnny could read his little like no other), they'd always been fueled by the hormonal rush of adrenaline and testosterone pumping through his veins. in fact, johnny's not sure that jaehyun had had a proper crush on anyone at college after getting fucked over in high school, where johnny had also gone to with jaehyun.

not that johnny had really known jaehyun. he was quieter and kept to himself more then. didn't really hang out in the same crowd as johnny.

he knows that's not necessarily true. johnny had, truthfully, just completely overlooked jaehyun. like a lot of girls had until jaehyun had finally started to grow into his features.

but johnny knows jaehyun now and he also knows that if jaehyun had never met gianna lee, jaehyun wouldn't have ever dove headfirst into the deep end of shitfuckery and sleeping around with every breathing body in sight.

cliché story of course. college boy becomes a fuckboy after having his heart broken by a girl in high school. johnny's almost 100% positive that sia's shoved at least two or three novels like those in johnny's face, with the same exact plot.

but what is life but a series of clichés after all. and honestly, did it even matter? it was real. it happened to jaehyun. that was all. end of story.

so johnny doesn't even say a word when he sees the post-it note in jaehyun's trash can. he's silent as he watches sia and jaehyun talk and jaehyun fall into a period of overthinking (and jaehyun knows he's overthinking too because johnny can see him shake his head even as he continues to stare at the 'people' tab of intro to east asia).

and johnny finally decides to break his silence when he sees jaehyun with a new post-it note, although this time it was a much more tame blue post-it, and a pensive look.

jaehyun slips it to johnny to read as they're sitting at the local starbucks, with johnny filling out some paperwork for the job he was signed on for as soon as the school year ended and jaehyun studying for the organic chemistry exam he had coming up the next week.

he doesn't say anything when he passes the note but johnny can see him sideye-ing him to catch his reaction and it's all he can do to keep from letting a little smile slip through.

he hands the piece of paper back, watching as jaehyun immediately stuffs it into his backpack, and for some reason, he's really not sure what to say. if sia were here, she would know exactly what to say, and how to say it. she had a way of saying things that were a little too straightforward to feel good but also obviously coming from a generally good place.

it was one of the reasons why johnny had thought it would be a good idea to make it official with her. sia yoo was nothing like what johnny had thought - and the thought simultaneously frightens him and comforts him.

"you plan on asking her out on a date?" johnny says lightly, sliding his laptop over to pretend to look at his phone casually. in actuality, he's typing furiously to sia (one of the few people that johnny trusted or consulted when it came to advice giving) about what was happening.

johnny is not very surprised when sia's gray bubble appears, disappears, and then appears again only to say, "yeah, i know."

he waits for a more elaborate response. or even a more sia-like response but the more that he talks to her, the more johnny is learning that sia is more unpredictable than she really seems to be.

and sia yoo seems to be completely out of the box.

johnny shakes his head, as if to physically get rid of the thoughts of her from his head, unsure why he was thinking of her when he was supposed to be helping out one of his boys.

"yeah. i think so? i don't know. i mean we had a good time and we definitely have chemistry. but we literally just had one night in bed and that's it." jaehyun furrows his eyebrows as he realizes that's not just it. "well, there is the fact that kun was walking around singing her praises. and i know that fatima wouldn't be friends with kun or y/n if she wasn't sure they're both good people. not to mention the fact that i've always thought she's kinda hot. but it's always been superficial. even us spending the night together was really nothing more than finding each other hot or trying to figure out if the talk around town was real or not."

johnny takes a sip of his americano as he lets jaehyun's words sink into his own mind. jaehyun rests his heads on his arms crossed in front of him and johnny knows exactly the set of thoughts that's running through jaehyun's mind because they were the same as johnny's when he had decided to ask sia out on a date.

is it worth it? is it worth possibly getting my heart strung up on someone again just to face the possibility of breaking it again?

so johnny offers the only advice that he really has.

"talk to roseanne. girls' fiercest protectors are their friends and something tells me that talking to her will make you fall on one side or the other."

+++

the next time that jaehyun sees roseanne is a complete coincidence. he really only meant to say hi to one of his homies, yugyeom, on the way out of the library and hadn't expected to run into roseanne or miyeon at all. especially not a singular day after johnny had suggested that he seek her out in the first place.

he watches as yugyeom thumbs the rip in miyeon's jeans as he continues to talk to jaehyun about something jeongguk had done the previous weekend. and then he sees miyeon press a kiss to roseanne's cheek as she gets up to fill up her water bottle.

jaehyun didn't think he would understand that dynamic at all but whatever floated their boat. who was he to judge? he had watched the barbie movie and was still having a crisis about his masculinity and was actively searching out his one night stand's (were you still just his one night stand?) roommate and best friend to fix it. to be fair, he didn't really fully understand the barbie movie, to the chagrin of doyoung's girlfriend nairobi but that was besides the point.

yeah. jaehyun was really in no position to speak. wow he had a lot of things to work on internally. the more he talked to the women in his life, the more he was realizing this. again. not the point.

roseanne takes one look at his face and then exchanges a look with miyeon and then yugyeom before standing up and walking towards the exit, looking at jaehyun questioningly when she realizes that jaehyun hasn't moved an inch. jaehyun hurriedly bids yugyeom and miyeon goodbye as he rushes after her.

the two of them linger outside of the library and roseanne just raises an eyebrow as she appraises jaehyun. and for some reason, jaehyun stands up straighter, and she just sighs, a small smile playing on her lips.

"let me guess. 'who makes people work for their number? what is this? sprinkle sprinkle type of stuff?' or maybe 'this is kinda cringey, isn't it?' or just a sweet and simple 'what the actual fuck?'" roseanne says nonchalantly, listing out each possible question jaehyun could have come to ask.

"would it make me a bad man if i said yes to all of the above?" jaehyun asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. roseanne shrugs, crossing her arms across her chest.

"not really. i don't think so at least. it's a fair set of questions that even i asked her the first time a guy came up to me asking who the fuck my roommate thought she was," roseanne says. she takes sees the look of confusion on jaehyun's face as she continues, "you're definitely not the first person to ask me that but you are of a selective few. y/n usually doesn't let people get this far in the first place. and secondly, she doesn't really tell us much about people she's interested in until much later."

"she's a strange person, if i'm being honest with you. there's just something about her that makes her so captivating and invisible at the same time. she'll capture the attention of everyone in the room but if you talk to her, she'll make you feel like her best friend. she seems like an open book, and an even more open friend. and you feel so close to her within a conversation and then you end the conversation, you realize that even as she spoke, she revealed nothing about herself."

"i'm her best friend and i could tell you very confidently that i didn't know a single thing about her truly until recently. it made me frustrated at first. like i was a shitty friend or something. but the closer to her i got, the more i realized that she's always been a great friend but no one's been a great friend to her. she's very selective with the people she associates with - not just people she lets herself be seen with but people she confides in."

"this whole thing is a defense mechanism. she'd be caught dead before she'd ever admit it but she just hasn't been loved in the way that she's loved and now she's more guarded for it. i'll tell you this jaehyun, but if you want to give up, do it now. she says she's just going to give you her number if you earn it but once you get all 10 digits, know that she's gonna give you her heart."

"it seems like i'm violating girl code by telling you all this but like i said, even if you were to ask y/n, she would say the same thing. not in so many words but still. like i said. she's an open book and a closed heart. she knows you're gonna ask me and so she only tells me something that she would be okay with you hearing."

jaehyun, who had been listening quietly and patiently the whole time, cuts in with a quiet voice. "isn't it exhausting to live like that?"

roseanne looks at him strangely, as though she was truly seeing him for the first time. jaehyun doesn't know if he's offended or relieved that she'd done what he'd done to sia - made assumptions based on his appearance. he lands on neutral. it's human nature, to try and make proper guesses about who's gonna act like what.

the ancient art of preventing heartbreak, jaehyun supposes.

"maybe. i don't think so though. it's gotta be a different level of relief knowing that no one's gonna talk shit about you because a) no one knows you well enough to do that or b) because you're so careful with who you trust that you know they'd never betray you or even c) they can only talk about what you put out into the world. it's why censorship is so effective. people can only talk about what they know. there's few people who will ignore what they see to find what they can't see tangibly."

"are all of y/n's friends secretly poets or something? why the hell are you guys all speaking cryptically like you're all freemasons or some shit like that. i can't tell if i find it cringey or cool," jaehyun says, cocking his head.

roseanne lets out a real, full bellied laugh at that, clutching her stomach as chuckles escape her. jaehyun's not sure what he's said that's so funny but he knows for a fact that she's not laughing with him, but at him.

"why is it cringey, jaehyun? why would it be cool? it's just what it is. we're just girls. you'll see us at the party next weekend, drinking our weight in alcohol. we'll have the conversations about makeup and dresses and having fun and our future and our past. there's nothing like freemasonry, i promise. it's just so amusing to see men get alarmed by the thoughts that girls have been wrestling with since they've been twelve. the duality of man, i guess," roseanne says finally, once she's caught her breath.

jaehyun doesn't know how to respond to that so he elects to save the remaining tatters of his dignity by just not responding at all. if there's one thing he's learned about you, it's that you surround yourself by women who are not hesitant about putting him in his place. and he's oddly thankful for it.

"i have one last question. well, two last questions, actually," jaehyun says when he sees roseanne turning around to head back inside, still wiping the tears from her eyes from laughing too hard.

roseanne turns, a knowing glint in her eyes even before jaehyun asks his question.

"how many guys have talked to you? and what's the highest number anyone's ever gotten to?"

roseanne is silent and just as the silence begins to turn awkward, she promptly turns on her heel and begins to walk away. she opens the door to the library before she seemingly changes her mind and looks back at jaehyun.

"two guys have talked to me. you're gonna have to ask fatima about the second question though. and jaehyun? the next number is 6."

96_-___-____.

+++

jaehyun finds fatima not soon after his conversation with roseanne. he's sitting in the nct house, watching johnny pace back and forth in his room, trying to figure out if what he was wearing was too casual for a date to a bowling alley.

it was way too formal, in jaehyun's opinion. but he was just going to wait for johnny to finish panicking (even if he would never admit that he was, in fact, panicking) to figure that out on his own. seriously though, who wore a button down and slacks to a bowling alley?

then again, he was going on a date with sia yoo so really, anything was fairplay when it came to that girl. she was a whirlwind of literally everything that could possibly go into a human being. she was a maximalist to the fullest, seizing every opportunity she could to make good memories, pressing forward with a sense of perfect clarity and sobriety that most people would be scared of.

the type of girl who was the main character of any story that she would feature in. sia was the type of person that people who trip and fall over themselves trying to have a good time with that she practically promised. she walked around with fairy dust in her fingers and a strange sense of wisdom that felt like she could read you like a book within a singular meeting with her.

jaehyun knows that she's the most intimidating out of all of the girls. out of you, roseanne, fatima, and sia, she was hands down the most frightening because even though she could read everyone else, no one could really read her.

then there was roseanne. she was the wet dream of every girl alive - the reason why straight girls lamented that they were straight and still falling a little bit in love with her. she was hot, flirtatious to the extent of making everyone wonder what they were when she gave them even a split second of attention, and so incredibly full of life. it doesn't surprise jaehyun that she had become exclusive with miyeon and yugyeom. for some reason, he feels like she just wouldn't have been able to settle for liking one person at once.

she was a little too much for just one person to be able to handle. she was like the human personification of a leather jacket wearing, motorcycle driving, woody cologne smelling wattpad trope. jaehyun understands her appeal all too well.

and then there was fatima. she was kind, sweet, kept to herself, and always offered a helping hand to those around her. jaehyun understood why kun had fallen so hard for her within two minutes of meeting her. she had an air about her that made you feel like she was someone who truly cared about you, even if you didn't know her and she didn't know you all that well. she was the type of girl who was always forgotten in the novels about warriors and princesses. the girl who was often reduced to nothing more than the main character's best friend.

until you met a girl like her in real life. fatima was still a little forgotten, and jaehyun knew that. guys often overlooked her in favor of her 'hotter' or 'wilder' friends, which is admittedly what jaehyun had thought at first. but she was just so genuine and clearheaded. she protected her peace in a way that was so unusual for young, college-going students. not to say that sia, roseanne, or you weren't genuine or anything like that. but fatima was the type of girl that jaehyun knew was perfect for kun. the girl that he could go home and know that no matter what he had done in his past, she would love him all the same.

and there was you. smart, strangely private, and a series of contradictions housed within one heart. jaehyun wracks his brain, trying to gather everything that he knew about you and yet, he comes up empty.

frustratingly empty.

jaehyun vaguely registers the fact that johnny has finally changed and is getting ready to go. he knows that he should say something about how johnny should just be himself and that sia liking him is completely up to her, regardless of what johnny were to do. but when he locks eyes with johnny, he realizes that johnny already knows.

so jaehyun just claps him on the back as he heads back to his room, his mind spinning as he tries to think of everything that he knows about you. and he draws a blank every fucking time.

he knows superficial things about you. maybe it's because he doesn't know you like he knows your friends. he hasn't talked to you as much as he's talked to them. but how does he not know you? he's been wanting to get with you for so long. he wanted more than just your body. he wanted your charm and your appeal.

was it just your body? is that all it was? is that all jaehyun wanted? somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to believe that. he doesn't want that for himself. logically, he knows that gianna's impact on his life shouldn't be extending this far. he knows that he shouldn't want or have to fight himself this hard but you're not making it much easier for him.

when was the last time jaehyun wanted to get to know such an enigma of a girl? gianna lee. and he wants nothing to do with a girl like that ever again.

and yet, here he is. falling into the same trap all over again.

jaehyun's so caught up in his own thoughts, feeling himself starting to spiral when he bumps in fatima and kun, who are equally caught up in a conversation with each other.

"oh, my bad," jaehyun mumbles, ready for fatima to brush past him but she doesn't, looking at jaehyun and then kun.

"hey man, we're headed back to my place. why don't you come back with us?" kun offers, and jaehyun just nods blankly, as he starts to follow them out of the nct house. kun stops at the entrance where he picks up a textbook from yuta, who had been borrowing it for the last week, before the three of them make their way out.

"how are you, jaehyun?" fatima asks with a sweet smile as they pile into kun's car. somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to give her a generic, insincere answer.

"i'm...okay. i'm just okay. confused but okay," jaehyun says and fatima seems alright with this answer. kun pulls out of the 'driveway' of the frat house, exchanging in a quiet conversation with fatima about what they were planning on eating for the night, leaving jaehyun to simmer in his thoughts.

gianna lee. there was a name that he thought about almost every day and never all at the same time. the girl who had made him and broke him. the girl that jaehyun had trusted with his heart and made him regret ever doing that.

the girl who had been the first love of his life.

+++

gianna was a year younger than him. smart, so incredibly sweet, and yet someone that no one could confidently say that they knew. she was the type of girl who could slip under the radar as easily as her friends seemed to always stay on top of.

she ran in the same circle as jaehyun had in senior year, right when jaehyun was beginning to blossom into the man that he was today. she had always been kind to him, if not a little withdrawn, even when he was a skinny boy with proportions that absolutely did not seem to match each other.

jaehyun didn't even know her well enough for her to break his heart, honestly. jaehyun had liked her even before having a proper conversation with her. he knew how left out she felt in her own body. even though he couldn't imagine a more gorgeous girl, he knew that she didn't feel that way about herself.

he knew that she always compared herself to her friends. her well-accomplished, 'main character' best friends who were the talk of the school. and her. no matter how intelligent or kind or put together she was, no one really looked at her the way that jaehyun did. she knew it.

even jaehyun couldn't place why he liked her so much. maybe it was the fact that he was somehow comforted that a girl with so much beauty could feel the same way as him. maybe it was the fact that she had always held the same smile for him, regardless of what he looked like. or maybe it was even the fact that one time, she had held his hand as she pulled him across the street, running to catch up with their friends who had already crossed.

jaehyun just remembers looking at her dyed cherry red hair falling into her eyes as she laughs, pulling him forward to where the rest of their friends were standing. and as he breathes in the smoke in the air and the raspberry scent of her perfume, he just knows that he really, truly likes gianna lee.

gianna lee doesn't like him the way that he likes her. he knows that. logically, jaehyun knows that his feelings are truly unfounded. he really has no reason to like gianna the way that he does. and yet, there's a part of him that holds onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll turn around with those big eyes and upturned lips and say that she likes him the way that he likes her.

so he continues to look at her first when he makes the friend group laugh. he always slips her a napkin when he's getting one for himself when they're out getting milkshakes. he offers to help her with apush when she's stressing about a test the next week.

the closer he gets to her, the more jaehyun realizes that really, she was nothing like the image of her he had conjured in his head. she was every bit sweet as he had thought but she was argumentative, competitive, and all too obsessed with perfection. she always needed to be right in an argument, always had to win, and always had to make sure that she looked flawless doing so.

jaehyun doesn't realize it, of course. he's so obsessed with his glazed over façade of her that he just continues to let her win the arguments even when he knows that she's wrong. and she lets him wrap his arms around her when she gets an 89% on her test.

he lets her walk all over him and she lets him act on his feelings.

it was a toxic, parasitic relationship that neither of them were truly happy in. when gianna asked him out, jaehyun hadn't felt like fireworks were going off in his stomach. he felt like he had won a prize at a marathon. like he'd won a medal.

gianna wasn't a medal. she was a flawed, beautiful human being - every bit gorgeous and horrible as jaehyun and every other human being was. but jaehyun had won, hadn't he?

he hadn't. and it took so long for him to realize that by the time he'd realized that gianna had really only taken to him out of pity, he was so far in his own head that he didn't know how to leave her.

eventually, the summer before college rolled around and gianna had taken it upon herself to do the nasty deed of breaking up with him. it had been an amicable split, as far as their friends were concerned.

but none of them had ever truly either of their friends. so what did they know?

what did they know about gianna finding comfort in her ex's arms? what did they know about her grades slipping at the end of the school year? what did they know about her having to excuse herself at a meeting for her internship to sob in the bathroom as she realized the true fallacy in the way she had acted? what did they know about the way she had to reconstruct herself bottom up? nothing.

what did they know about jaehyun spending every other night with a different girl, trying to ease the ache in his heart? what did they know about the obscene number of hours at the gym, not sure how to combat the sudden numbness after girl after girl? what did they know about the fact that jaehyun could not physically stand the smell of raspberries anymore? absolutely nothing.

no one knew anything until jaehyun had finally come to college. it was once he joined the frat and met guys who were so alike and different from him at the same time that he finally opened up about gianna.

only to doyoung, kun, and johnny but people nonetheless. everyone had gone through something similar - while for some it happened at college or back home, they all knew the pain. some of them were more in the fault than others but pain is pain and a paper cut bleeds the same red as a gunshot wound.

which is why when kun sits him down on the couch and fatima hands him a cup of iced tea to save them all from the sweltering heat as august makes a last stand against september's winds, jaehyun spills everything.

gianna. his past. his insecurities. everything. he knows he shouldn't. logically, fatima had nothing stopping her from going and telling everything that jaehyun had told her to you, but for some reason, jaehyun thinks that she won't.

she doesn't.

+++

fatima knows that jaehyun was going to talk to her about something like this. it seemed that all of the nct boys came with some level of trauma like this. she wasn't sure what it was about every single boy she had met in college (although, granted, they were either her friends' conquests or kun's friends - a very interesting group of very intertwined boys) having their hearts getting ripped to shreds. sometimes it was of their own volition but they all seemed to be some level of hurt either way.

so when jaehyun spills his heart out on kun's carpeted floors, she's ready with a well-rehearsed speech. he's one of six boys she'd already had this same exact conversation with (kun has a bad habit of picking up strays) but when he looks at her with such raw anguish in his eyes, she falters.

she looks to kun, who's looking at her with the same question that she knows jaehyun is asking.

"how do you know when to choose between your head and your heart? because my heart is so fucking scared of getting attached to someone again. but my head knows that i can't push everyone away because i'm scared."

fatima is quiet, searching for the right words. she's about to say something when kun speaks up, looking determinedly at fatima.

"you learn to choose you. instead of choosing between your head and your heart, just choose yourself. at the end of the day, you and y/n are good people who aren't trying to hurt each other. you're both trying not to get hurt. and honestly, maybe you'll realize that you both are better off as friends along the way. maybe you just realize that you don't want to be with someone right now. or maybe you find someone who makes you feel like you're safe and loved when you're around them, whether you're in love with them or not." fatima looks at kun with a soft smile, reaching out to hold his hand gently.

"you have to choose yourself, jaehyun. trust me. the more you start thinking about what is best for the people around you instead of thinking for yourself, you'll look back fifteen, twenty years down the road and see everyone but yourself in your life. don't do something because gianna and how she made you feel. don't let your past define your future," fatima says, and jaehyun can feel the tears prick his eyes. he blinks determinedly, trying to make them disappear but when kun sits on one side of him and fatima on the other, he starts losing his battle against his emotions, finally letting himself mourn the innocence he had once had.

he buries his head into fatima's shoulder and for some reason, he feels as though kun and fatima would be amazing parents. because jaehyun doesn't remember the last time that he had felt this safe in an embrace.

"and jaehyun? the furthest anyone has ever gotten is five numbers. you're at three. it's your call from here. do what you want, not what you think you need to do." fatima taps his shoulder gently and lets him cry for as long as he needs to.

963-___-____.

+++

jaehyun gets the next number from you. after his conversation with fatima, he's sure that if he wants to go any further than this, he needed to talk to you first.

it's strange. he's earning your number but it feels like jaehyun's somehow earning himself back. and when he finds you again, he knows that you can tell.

even johnny could tell. when he had come back from his (successful) date with sia, the first thing he had said was, "wow. you look so...light."

jaehyun hadn't said anything but 'thank you' but it was enough.

johnny had just smiled at him and recounted the date, stating that he was going to ask her to go on another date this saturday night. jaehyun doesn't mention the fact that nct is throwing that night because johnny already knows.

and honestly, sia is a junior and johnny is a senior. they've been to their fair share of parties. one party being missed wouldn't be life changing for them. but skipping a party as the vice president of a frat and a girl who was sought after as a sweetheart for six frats meant something nonetheless.

he hadn't expected that they were to get that serious that quickly but it was a refreshing change. even fatima and kun were starting about talking about talking to fatima's parents to get their blessing for their relationship. her dilemma was no secret and it seemed that the conversation between the three of them had served to help them through their own issues as well.

there was just something in the air, jaehyun had supposed. august turned to september in the week that jaehyun had wrestled with himself, eventually leading to seeking you out.

it had been at the nct party, actually. you were standing with some of your acquaintances, all of your friends having dispersed to do what they were going to do. jaehyun had been on the other side of the room, convincing bambam that it was most definitely not a good idea to try and pursue soyeon jeon if he wanted to make sure that he woke up with all his limbs intact the next morning.

you had met his eye, raising an eyebrow before continuing your conversation, all thoughts of him seemingly out of your mind. jaehyun looks between bambam (who has gone from trying to get with soyeon to jumping into the pool) (that pool had not been cleaned in a full six months) and you. he just finds jungwoo, one of the pledges, and hands him a very drunk bambam.

"do not let him do anything dumb. i'm counting on you pledge," jaehyun called out over his shoulder as he weaves through people to get to you.

"jaehyun! hey! long time no see," hailey whitfield says, throwing herself in jaehyun's arms. jaehyun looks at you, where you're staring straight at where hailey's body ends and his arms begin. jaehyun tries to push her off of him. once upon a time, jaehyun would've been behind happy about getting with her again - she was so good with her mouth. but now, he has no intentions of giving you the wrong impression.

at least until he has a proper conversation with you so that you knew where he stood with you. and where you stood with him.

"hey hailey, sorry i've gotta get to my friend," he says, not even looking at her as he pushes off of her, resuming his threading through the crowd to where you're standing. you look at him, unimpressed, but jaehyun knows you well enough to know that three numbers are enough to make you feel a certain way if jaehyun was fooling around with other girls.

which he hasn't been. not a single night. jaehyun jung's bed has been empty for an entire two weeks, something that doyoung and nairobi have been taking full advantage of.

even some of jaehyun's friends had started asking if he was having problems or something but he had brushed them off. he definitely wasn't having problems, if hailey whitfield was any indication. but he felt like it would be doing you dirty if he had someone in his bed while he was talking to your friends about you.

so he hadn't.

he knows you know. he knows that you know he's talked to sia, roseanne, and fatima. he'd figured that you'd find out either through them or just by him. he can tell by the look in your eyes that you've read him thoroughly.

so he really doesn't feel bad about pulling you away from your friends, taking you upstairs to his room. finally, doyoung had promised that they would go back to nairobi's place on the condition that jaehyun made sure that no one would try to fuck on his bed. he promised, knowing that the only person who'd be coming up here would be him. he needed to talk to you tonight. if he knew anything it was that.

but once you're sitting on his bed, watching him pace back and forward, he's lost everything he's been wanting to say. where does he even start? with gianna? with the questions he has for you? with the number? where does he begin?

jaehyun looks at you, where you're watching him with a small smile on your face and suddenly, it doesn't matter where he begins. you'll listen to it all. he knows that much.

"why do you want me to work for your number?" jaehyun asks. you look at him curiously, tilting your head as you piece together an answer.

"are you sure you don't know the answer to that question?" you say, folding your legs so that you're sitting criss cross on the navy covers.

"i do. but i want to hear it from you, y/n. you know what all your friends say about you? that they didn't properly know you until a full year of friendship with you. but they said that you never lie. so i want you to tell me," jaehyun says, chest heaving by the end of his ramble. his eyes turn soft as he watches you become more and more solemn and he steps forward, sitting down on his desk chair and swiveling it over so that he was sitting directly across from you.

you pause for a moment, searching for the words before saying anything. "i've never been in a relationship before. so i don't have the trauma that could come from something like that. but i know what it's like to lose your heart to someone. and i know that it hurts. i want to be loved in the way that i never thought i could be. so the number thing is just an excuse for me to get to the point where i won't feel guilty about liking someone."

you shrug, smiling but not allowing the smile to reach your eyes. "it's a good way to make sure that the guy knows what he's getting into either way."

jaehyun nods at that. he knew that much. it feels different hearing it from you though. when you're the one saying it, jaehyun knows that it's real. raw. not coming from people trying to protect you because they know that you're far too soft to truly come at him guns blazing.

somehow, he likes it. he likes that you're much softer than you seem. that you're a lot more vulnerable than you come off as. and for some reason, jaehyun hopes that you never perfect the art of becoming standoffish.

"hmm. you've never been in a relationship before?" jaehyun says finally and you nod, shrugging once more. a shadow of bittersweet nostalgia crosses your face before you're back to your soft smile and guarded yet curious eyes.

"nope. part of it was on me; i've got high standards, if you can't tell. and the other part was that i've always wanted someone who fascinates me. of course, i wasn't all that appealing to men because i spent so much time trying to beat them at the only thing they were good at - ego-boosting themselves but they weren't interesting. none of them were people i really wanted to get to know," you say, unfolding your legs.

jaehyun likes the fact that the tips of your toes are the only part of your feet that touch the ground from how far back you're sitting on the bed. in an act of boldness, jaehyun moves forward to sit next to you, right where you're sitting. his feet are flat on the floor, he realizes.

he doesn't know why he's noticing things like this but he is and something about that frustrates him, frightens him, and tugs at his heartstrings altogether.

"you're heartbroken, aren't you? boys like you always seem to be a little hurt," you say, tossing the words into the air like rose petals. they're recklessly thrown but they're somehow beautiful in the way that blackened roses are always beautiful.

"yeah. i was. i think i will always mourn who i was before that. i was so naïve. but i'm not him anymore. and i think i'm realizing that i'm actually okay with that." jaehyun says the words just as carelessly as you do but once they're out in the open, he realizes that he's being completely honest. he turns to you with a strange look though.

"boys like me?"

you smile and nod at him. "boys like you."

you stand up, walking to where jaehyun has a corkboard with a shitload of scraps and photos from the past two years. you don't mention the fact that none of the memories that he has on the board date from before senior year. you don't need to.

"boys like you who've never been loved completely. boys who think that they need to listen to what the world says about how they should be acting or thinking. boys who are hopeless romantics but what would the world say if they knew that these boys just wanted a little bit of love? what would they say if they were looking for warmth in an empty and cold bed?"

jaehyun hates that you're right. it's the college boy tragedy. condemned to never be able to completely heal from one bad experience and then always breaking hearts to collect enough pieces to build themselves a new one.

he didn't want to end like that. even if it wasn't with you, he was ready to grow past it. he didn't want to end as a heartbreaker.

"boys like me...and you like a boy like me?" jaehyun asks. he doesn't know why he does. this is the first proper conversation you've had with him when both of you are decidedly sober. you want to deflect the question but if he's being honest, that's a sign for you to be just as honest.

"i don't know. from what my friends say, and what i know about you as a person in class, i know you mean well. and honestly, i've always just been the type of person to like someone past things like the books they read or the way they dress," you say, still looking at the memories jaehyun's pieced together over the years on this board. "i feel something around you. and i don't know you well enough to know that i like you as someone more than a friend but i'd like to at least have the chance to get that far."

that's all jaehyun needs. he gets another number that night.

+++

jaehyun waits for you outside of intro to east asia, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to make it out of the classroom. you're the last one to leave, knowing that technically, you and jaehyun weren't allowed to see each other while he was your ta.

jaehyun had never really pegged you as someone with so much respect for the rules but you had argued that it was mostly about the principle.

he'd learned a lot about you that last weekend. you and him had stayed up all night, talking about nothing and everything under the sun until the sun itself rose, eventually falling asleep in a tangled mess of limbs and conversations.

he learned that while you didn't like the rules, you often followed them as long as they followed your own moral code. that you would die for your friends and that had landed you in many bad friendships when people would use that to their advantage before you'd met your friends in college. he learned that you were super close with your family, and that they were quite literally the best friends that you could always rely on.

and he learned that you wanted to see him again. on a date. sometime soon. so with no real way of communicating with you outside of social media (and he somehow felt like sliding into your dm's was corny and somewhat of a copout), here he was. waiting outside of the classroom like he was ripped straight from a 1950's romance movie. he even had the letterman jacket on to boot.

"oh my god, you scared me," you say, pressing a hand to your chest as you quite nearly bump into jaehyun. he smiles, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders as the two of you start walking.

"you knew i was waiting for you outside, didn't you?" he says, pushing the side door open to walk towards the parking lot, where he's convinced kun to let him borrow his car for the day.

"yeah but i didn't think you would be literally outside the door," you murmur, checking your phone to see the rest of your day's schedule. you had purposefully blocked off three hours of your schedule to hang out with jaehyun, which you were sure to regret later on when your organic chemistry class kicked your ass. but that was a later issue.

"well, i couldn't text you where i was so i figured i'd wait in plain sight," jaehyun retorts, opening the passenger door for you without a word. huh. that was the first time a man has ever done that for you. and jaehyun did it as though it were second nature - like it was a given.

you don't know why something so small means so much to you but you're alright with it. you're alright with just appreciating it.

"that's fair," you say. another number's on the tip of your tongue as you watch him get into the driver's seat but jaehyun beats you to the punch.

"don't give me a number. not yet," jaehyun says. "not that i don't want one. but i just...me waiting outside your classroom or opening your door isn't enough for a number. even if i don't get all ten, you've got to up your standards."

you don't know what to say to that so you don't say anything, turning on the music and letting the melody of chemtrails under the country club by lana del ray fill the rainy september afternoon sky.

+++

when jaehyun pulls up to a run down diner, you're pleasantly surprised. although you're not much of a sucker for romantic places, the fact that jaehyun is somehow makes you happy. it makes you happy that he still sees the beauty in places like these. and when you look over at him, dimples threatening to show as he breathes in the air of misty fog and the smell of milkshakes and burgers, you're so tempted to kiss him.

so you lean over, looking at him with a twinkle in your eyes once jaehyun has parked.

"can i kiss you?" you ask, mere inches from his lips. jaehyun just looks at you, and from this close, you realize just how beautiful his eyes are. they're dark, darker than anyone else's that you know. and yet, it feels like you could fall in and never regret it.

"please."

it's all you need. and it's all he needs because as soon as word slips from his lips, he's pressing forward, his lips against yours. he's soft, you register vaguely. nothing like last time. nothing like how he'd kissed you like he could think of nothing but absolutely ruining you.

jaehyun is soft. like the feeling of slipping a cold hand into someone's warm jacket pocket. he kisses you like he's scared of ruining you. ruining this. and you're absolutely addicted to the feeling.

the feeling of knowing that he could just claim you instead of trying his best to claim your heart. no matter how fucked up it was that you were even thinking that someone could 'claim' you. he wasn't like that and you could work with that.

he pulls away from you, eyes still closed as he sits against the drivers seat, his head against the headrest. you watch him, a silly and childish smile on your face - although you're not really sure why it's there in the first place. but who are you to knock anything?

there aren't many words to exchange as the two of you make your way into the diner. jaehyun had opened your car door again. this time, you just offer him your hand and you're strangely alright with just how safe you feel with his hand locked in yours.

the diner seems as though time has frozen still here.

and everything about the date seems the same. it feels as though time has frozen still - almost as though the two of you are in a little bubble with no one but each other. it's a feeling you haven't experienced in a while. a feeling you don't think you've ever had because of a boy.

it feels...almost scarily comfortable. it doesn't feel as though there are fireworks exploding for every word that jaehyun says. but it does feel as though that there's a hot mug of cocoa that's been handed to you on a cold winter night. and that feeling, the feeling of warmth spreading through every corner of your body, is the feeling that you know is good for you.

so you listen to him, watch him speak animatedly about basketball or a book he read, chin resting in your palm as you find yourself falling deeper and deeper.

jaehyun gets two numbers that day.

+++

it doesn't take much longer for jaehyun to get the rest of the numbers. soon enough, you're more than happy just to spend time with him the way that you spend time with your friends. you feel as though you've made a good friend out of someone you'd thought that you wouldn't even be able to get along with.

"you know, when i first met you, even before i knew you, i really didn't like you," you say, taking a sip out of your latte. the seasons have changed, fall giving way to winter. the november air bites your skin every time someone opens the door to the tiny café the two of you were sitting in.

jaehyun smiles, nodding as he leans back in his chair. "i know. i could tell by the look in your eyes."

"the look in my eyes?"

"yeah. the one that said that you wanted to get to know me. to figure out my deal even if you didn't necessarily want to find out for sure. kind of like you wanted to be the one that said 'aha!' at the end of a movie, even though you weren't sure of the ending at all."

you look at jaehyun for a moment before laughing, shaking your head as you laugh. "you're even starting to talk like me now."

jaehyun pauses before he nods, smiling with you. "yeah, i know. you've rubbed off on me in a lot of ways."

"i've improved your music taste, that's for sure," you snort, taking another sip out of your latte. "i still can't believe you didn't like ric flair drip when we met."

"it's not that i didn't like it and it's still not that i like it now. but i guess i just have a good memory associated with it now so it's growing on me," jaehyun says. your eyebrows furrow as you try to recollect what good memory he could possibly be referring to.

"oh my god. the night that we met! i was trying to get in your pants with ric flair drip," you say incredulously, shivering when someone opens and closes the door once more. jaehyun hands you his hoodie, leaving his arm extended silently when you protest.

you don't know why you still bother trying to protest with him when you knew you were going to lose. you put the sweater on as jaehyun starts talking, letting the scent of clean water and pine trees swaddle you softly.

"honestly, i think i was more than you that night," jaehyun says, as he looks at you with an incriminating twinkle in his eyes. "that was around the time that even taeyong said that he wanted to see if kun's vivid descriptions were true or not. and i wasn't about to let him get the opportunity to get to you before i did. i don't know why. i felt almost protective over you. but not in a good way. in the type of way where i wanted to show you how good i could make you feel - more than anyone could even begin to think of making you feel."

the previously cold café begins to become a lot hotter than you were feeling before, clearing your throat as you try to let the moment pass.

"how did we even get here?" you say, fanning yourself delicately. the move only serves to work against you when you fan yourself so that the scent of his cologne on his hoodie only gets stronger in your mind.

jaehyun leans back, letting you switch the conversation. he'd bring it up to you later in the night, anyway. besides, for someone who puts on such a strong front, it's honestly a little fun to see you squirm at the slightest implications from jaehyun.

"but, uh, jaehyun. i've been meaning to ask you something for a while," you begin, fidgeting with the wrapper of the straw in front of you. jaehyun tilts his head as if to question what you have to say as he waits patiently.

"what are we?"

now jaehyun is truly confused. was the past month of going on dates not clear enough? jaehyun wasn't going on dates with anyone else. oh my god. were you going on dates with other men? is that why you're asking.

"i thought we were dating?" jaehyun says, phrasing his sentence more like a question than a statement. "i mean i'm not talking to anyone else and i kinda assumed that since i'd gotten all ten numbers, neither were you."

you hum, unable to stop the silly smile on your face.

"good. that's just what i was thinking too."

+++

honestly, everything about jaehyun jung is appealing to you. from the way that he engulfs you in a hug when you're up late studying. or the way that he convinces you that you have a virus on your laptop just so that he could spend more time with you 'fixing' your laptop for you. or the way that he sits with you and your friends, patiently listening and offering advice wherever he can (or honestly, is just allowed to speak).

you're so glad to see him like this. as your boyfriend of four and a half months (you hadn't let him make it official until he was no longer your ta), you've seen him grow in ways that you'd never thought. jaehyun was every inch the stupid, naïve fuckboy you'd thought him to be in the beginning. and he was also every inch the hopeless romantic with a little too much love to give for a scarred heart.

so you heal together. you help each other when you quite literally can't handle the pain and together, you grow. he's more confident. not just in the way that he looks - but the way that he speaks around people. the way that he educates himself. the way that he communicates how he feels.

and he helps you everyday. he shows you what it feels like to be loved the way you love others. he shows you that you are worth the princess treatment. and most importantly for you, he loves the people around you the way you love the people around you.

kun and fatima find their happy ending. fatima had spoken to her parents and while they took some time to warm up to kun, his soft demeanor and the way that he loved fatima so completely and sincerely eventually won them over. fatima even met kun's parents with equal success, although kun's mother kept asking when fatima and kun would get married.

(their wedding was already in the works by both fatima's mother and kun's mother. you were beyond elated to go to both the traditional muslim ceremony and the traditional chinese ceremonies.)

johnny and sia ended up going out on a couple more dates before realizing that they probably just weren't meant to be a couple. they loved each other as friends and were probably always going to hold a special place in each other's lives but it just wouldn't be as each other's significant others. johnny was already starting to retreat from the frat boy lifestyle after meeting a girl at the library one day. and sia had finally met someone who could handle her crazy personality with a sweet smile, bringing her back down to reality whenever she went a little...too lively. you're looking forward to meeting him over summer, where the four of you and your friends were going on a vacation together.

roseanne, yugyeom, and miyeon still haven't put a label on their relationship. but you've caught roseanne falling asleep in yugyeom's arms more than once (one too many times than rosie cares to admit) so you figure that it's a good thing that they've all found each other. as unconventional as their relationship might be, they all mesh together so well that you can't even find it in yourself to question it. all's fair in love and war.

jaehyun and you frequent the diner as a favorite date night spot to visit, although you're upset to hear that they're remodeling the entire establishment for favor of a new, more 'modern' atmosphere. although how modern a diner could get was a little bit of a strange notion. but as people change, so do the winds.

and when you walk into the diner the next semester, hand in hand with jaehyun, you're a little comforted to see that diner is now a speakeasy (in true 1970s fashion) with three words written in blinding rhinestones against the velvet background. of course.

ric flair drip.

[lomlompurim]

svsss pokemon AU wips that I cleaned up a bit of my drafts

I picked Grovyle for Shen Qingqiu bc I think he has more of an aloof resting face, and I needed a pokemon with arms and legs, or else where is the fear to become a human?pokemon? stick?

Some pokemons have their usual anatomy, others were yassified(¿) to make them more appealing to the general imaginary public(¿ of whatever Airplane was writing in this au, probably a crack fic that went a bit too far from being just a joke

Growlithe White Lotus Bingup vs Arcanine Black Lotus Binghe, his fluffysness amplified X100! (I saw someone around here say growlithe of hisui was perfect for Binghe and I never let it go)

Some Moshang poke vers 💙💛 I think airplane would indulge himself a bit and make his fave oc a legendary (and a bit of searching told me there are a few Articunos around so Linguang Jun is another one too, just bigger and meaner)

cringe cumplane stuff

(Also in my hc this is another reason to why Sqq couldn't even fanthom the idea of Arcanine!Binghe being interested in him. He is an old cranky lizzard in a world of cute furry girls? It just doesn't make sense! Why would binghe prefer this old grass lizzard???)

And Bingqiu pokemon ver ❤💚 Binghe still being a big puppy♡ (grovyles are likely 0,90m tall and Arcanines are like 2,00 m tall so yeah big BIG boy Binghe)

this is all for now jsjsjs

[sundrop-writes]

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary:

While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.

Word Count: 8,200

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the canon episode - so if you haven’t watched Season 4 of Criminal Minds yet, steer clear of this fic for now (especially because watching the episode provides some context for this fic/makes things make more sense); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is not pregnant during the fic and there’s no smut, but due to discussions in the fic, it’s not unreasonable that she could get pregnant); fake dating in the form of a fake marriage - the reader and Spencer pretend to be married under the Christian religion to ‘appeal’ to Cyrus; because of the fake marriage, Spencer uses the term 'my wife’ to refer to the reader; lots of mentions of religion (Christianity), religious extremism, mentions of pedophilia/child brides (in line with the canon episode); mentions of systemic sexism and gender roles enforced by cultures of organised religion and religious extremism; use of y/n and l/n (in this case meaning 'your last name’); the reader pretends to follow the Christian religion while undercover but I never stated if she believes in a less extreme version of these things or not (the reader’s true religious beliefs are never stated); protective!Spencer, possessive!Spencer; mentions of Spencer being taller than the reader (which, again, I think he would be taller than most people) - the reader’s body/body type is not described in any other way; mentions of guns and gun violence (not described in deep detail) - in line with the canon episode; the reader and Spencer fear for their lives; dangerous/live-threatening situations; the reader and Spencer are threatened with a gun; Cyrus is just generally creepy and sexist toward the reader; Spencer is pistol-whipped and the reader is threatened with sexual assault (it does not happen, Spencer protects her); mentions of pregnancy/the reader being pregnant (she is not pregnant during the course of the fic); mentions of the reader being a mother/having kids (Spencer makes up fake kids to sell their fake marriage story); the reader realizes she might actually want to be a mother because of Spencer’s fake kids story; mentions of an explosion (as in the canon); love confessions; angst with a happy ending. Hopefully that is everything.

A/N: The title for this fic comes from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name. The theme/lyrics of the song don’t really fit the fic, but I love the way that this title fits - how everyone in this fic is lying in some way but Spencer is someone with good intentions while lying. Making him the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes. I love how it fits. I wrote this while suffering with heat exhaustion so idk if it’s good or even makes sense. I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn’t 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff, and I am too tired to rewrite the whole fic to make it align with the episode. So uh - alternative canon? But I really love the basic concepts and I do really love how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too!

...

You thought it would be an easy day. 

Maybe that was foolish on your part. So far, you hadn’t seen a single ‘easy’ day while working with the BAU. Between chasing down scumbags and then reliving every single gory detail while doing the paperwork - none of it was ‘easy’. It was worthy, accomplished work - making the world a safer place to live in. (At least that’s what you told yourself.) But it was never easy. 

There was always someone who made the job easier. Someone who made you smile every single day - especially on days when you didn’t think you were even capable of feeling a tiny shred of joy. Someone who made you feel safe, who you always felt had your back no matter what. So you were glad that he was by your side today, along for the ride. 

“Tell us about Cyrus.” Reid prompted. 

He looked to the woman driving, your new companion for the day - Nancy Lunde, someone who worked with the state department and had set up the interviews with the children at the Separatarian Sect. 

“Benjamin Cyrus. No criminal record. In fact, there’s no record of the guy at all.” Nancy explained. 

“That’s odd.” You commented. “Usually someone being accused of something like this would have some past offenses. Especially because it would give him a reason to move into isolation to continue the criminal pattern of behavior.” 

“Well, I couldn’t find anything on him.” Nancy shrugged. 

“What about the 9-1-1 call?” You asked. 

“A fifteen year old girl called in saying that a man was ‘laying with her’ and claimed it as ‘God’s will’. I believe the ‘he’ referred to is Cyrus.” Nancy explained. “The age fits with Jessica Evanson, but I’ve managed to negotiate interviews with all the children, just to be sure. It wasn’t easy.” 

“They’re incredibly weary of outsiders.” You commented. “Our boss warned you not to identify us as FBI, right?” 

Nancy nodded. “I got you some spare credentials, just in case.” 

She took one of her hands off the wheel and reached into her pocket.

“You’re going to be using your real names. You’re going in as Child Victim Interview Experts working with Child Protective Services. No association with the FBI.” Nancy explained, handing Reid your fake credentials. 

He nodded, inspecting the IDs before handing you yours where you were sitting in the backseat. 

“Oh, before I forget.” You noted, reaching into the pocket of your cardigan. “The rings.” 

You pulled out a small plastic bag that Hotch had given to you before you left. It was a bag containing a fake diamond ring in your size and a fake golden ‘wedding’ band for Spencer. 

Reid reached over the seat to grab his ring from you, and Nancy gave the two of you an odd look. 

“Rings?” She questioned. 

“Fake wedding bands.” You explained. 

“It was our Unit Chief’s idea.” Reid added on. “He believes that presenting us as a ‘godly’ married couple to Cyrus will make him more likely to open up to us. He’s less likely to see us as hostile outsiders if he believes that we share a similar system of beliefs.” 

“It could also have a calming effect on the teenagers we have to interview or the kids there who have had more time to go through indoctrination at the Sect.” You continued to explain. “Even if their parents are hesitant to let the kids speak with us, they may be more willing to have their child speak with us or even leave them alone with us if they believe that we’re fellow Christians, rather than hostile atheists there to poison their children’s minds.” 

Reid nodded at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Make sure you put on the left hand.” He told you. “That’s the position for marriage.” 

You nodded at this. 

You placed the ring in the appropriate position, and you couldn’t help but to take a moment and stare at it. It was jarring to have a wedding ring on - especially with the thought that it represented you being married to Spencer. But you supposed, of all the people to call your husband, he would be one of the best. He was honest, intelligent, kind, and… if you were pressed, you would definitely say he was handsome. 

But you couldn’t get too caught up thinking about all of that. Because it wasn’t real. It was a false projection you were wearing for the benefit of a self inflated sociopath. 

Spencer liked the feeling of the ring. He didn’t take too long to stare at it after he had put it on, because he knew his mind would wander if he did. When Hotch had first proposed the idea of the two of you pretending to be married, Spencer had almost tripped over himself to oppose it - mostly because he didn’t think that he would be able to handle simply pretending to be your husband for the day. It was just too cruel. 

Having something he wanted so badly dangled right in front of him and knowing that it was all just a farce - it bothered him, but he delighted in the play nonetheless. 

When he caught the fake gold glinting in the light, Spencer had to remind himself that it was fake - that you would just be playing his wife for the day. He had to push back any internal glee that he felt at the idea that he got to be ‘taken’ by you while wearing that ring. It wasn’t real. It was just for the day. 

“Isn’t that deceptive?” Nancy asked. “Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?” 

“He won’t find out.” You replied confidently. “And besides, we use deception in interrogations all the time. It’s a very basic tactic: align yourself with the suspect. Make them think you share the same beliefs, that you’re on their side.” 

Reid grinned at this. He always loved it when you spoke so confidently. 

… 

“We’re looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus.” Nancy announced as the three of you got out of the car. 

“Then you’ve found him.” Cyrus announced confidently. 

He was pretty much what you had expected him to be - dressed informally, slouched over, faking meekness, holding a bible near his chest as though it were a shield. He had planted himself there purposefully, wanting to be the first person to interact with the outsiders as three of you came into the Ranch. 

You hovered back near Spencer, letting Nancy make the first introduction. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde.” She said, giving a small nod toward the man. “We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.” 

“‘Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.’” Cyrus rhymed off a quote, obviously positioning himself and his group as martyrs being attacked for having ‘different ways’ that the world simply didn’t understand. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.” Nancy reminded him, hoping to keep the religious zealot on track. 

“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.” Reid corrected her, talking about the quote. 

That did surprise you, but you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head. It was just one of the many amazing things about him - his perfect memory and his ability to use it. 

Of course, him saying this immediately drew Cyrus’ attention toward the two of you. So Spencer stepped up to introduce you. 

“Hello, I’m Spencer Reid, and this is my wife, Y/N L/N.” He said motioning toward himself and then to you as he introduced the two of you. Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system. Almost as if you had been waiting forever to hear him say those words and hadn’t even known it yourself. “We’re Child Victim Interview Experts, here on behalf of Child Protective Services.” 

Of course, you couldn’t get too caught up in deciphering how those words made you feel, because you had to focus on the task at hand. The job that you were here to do. 

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’.” Cyrus said, his tone even, quiet. 

You knew that covertly, it was his way of saying that the two of you didn’t belong there, because he ran the Ranch with God’s word, so nobody had actually been harmed (in his opinion). He believed that he had done nothing wrong. Obviously, he thought your time and resources were better spent with ‘actual’ victims who didn’t have his power wielded over their lives. 

“I can assure you, Mr. Cyrus, we try to bring God into our work.” You told him, trying to appeal to him. “The children we visit usually need prayer and God’s light the most.” 

Spencer gave you a sideways glance, clearly holding back a grin at how thick you were pouring it on - how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with. 

“Well, I can assure you that a lack of prayer and God’s light is certainly not an issue for the children here.” Cyrus said, giving you a clever little grin. He thought that you would simply interview the children, praise him for what a good job he had done, and then leave. “You can go and see the children whenever you like. They are up at the school, as I indicated in our phone call.” 

Nancy walked toward the school, and you paused before you followed. 

Before you walked off, you looked to Spencer. In a completely silent conversation that only worked so well because the two of you had been in so many tense situations before, thinking around UnSubs and planning miles around them before they could even know it, he gave you a small nod and you instantly knew what it meant. He had established a small bit of trust with Cyrus, so he would stick back and see what else he could get out of the man. 

You nodded back, and then - completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek. You were just playing the part, you told yourself. It’s not that it felt entirely instinctive to say goodbye to him with some kind of affection, like the many hugs you had given him before. It’s not that you felt so entirely scrutinized with Cryus’ piercing eyes on you, and you needed the anchor of Spencer’s touch. 

You were just playing the part. 

Spencer tried not to get caught on being kissed on the cheek like he was some blushing virgin, and instead, focused his attention back on Cyrus instead of watching you walk away. (Even though every single one of his instincts told him that he needed to keep a more careful eye on you because you both had to leave your guns in the car.) 

He took a step closer to where Cyrus was leaning on the concrete, and easily picked a topic of conversation. 

“Solar panels.” Reid said, motioning to the large devices sitting behind Cyrus on the grass. 

“Yes.” Cyrus nodded. “We’re completely self-sufficient here. Food, electricity, water. Benjamin Franklin said ‘God helps those who help themselves’.” He explained. “You look surprised.” 

“No, uh, impressed, actually.” Reid easily lied, trying to appeal to his ego. 

“Thank you.” Cyrus said. “Most men wouldn’t admit that.” 

“Well, I suppose that I’m not like most men.” Reid shrugged in return. 

“How long have you been married?” Cyrus asked, motioning toward Reid’s ‘wedding ring’. 

Reid panicked slightly, knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride to Colorado so that your answers to these simple questions wouldn’t be different. But he just made up an answer and hoped that nobody else would ask you the same question and find out the deception. 

“Three years.” He said. “I’ve been very blessed.” 

He used the language purposefully, knowing that the simple phrase could get him on Cyrus’ good side. That, and he hoped it would draw the attention away from any possible signs of his blatant lie. 

“Your wife is very beautiful.” Cyrus commented. 

He gave a wicked smirk as he said this. It was a simple, fairly ‘innocent’ comment, but it was immediately off-putting to Spencer. It took everything in his body not to glare daggers at Cyrus or throw out some protective comment in return. He could only imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind as he thought about you, and he hated even imagining it. 

Reid knew that it was a basic logical good, the instinct to protect you because you were his partner on this case and he was supposed to have your back. But it was also something more. Something in every fiber of his being that screamed you were his and no man should ever be thinking of you that way except for him. 

“Has it been a godly union?” 

He was lucky when Cyrus spoke again and distracted him from his mounting rage. 

“We try to be as godly as we can be.” Spencer took the simple, diplomatic answer. 

“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” Cyrus pointed out. 

Nancy had used your name on your false credentials because Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before. There hadn’t been time to inform her about it and have ‘Reid’ put on your ID as your ‘married’ name. So he had introduced you by your name to keep everything consistent with the reuse. 

It did make Spencer wonder if you would keep your last name if the two of you ever did get married. It made him almost dizzy, thinking about you as ‘Mrs Reid’. Thinking about your kids having his name. Or your name, if that’s what you wanted. 

But naturally, he pushed past all those thoughts and formed an excuse. 

“Typically, married women aren’t very well perceived in our line of work.” He quickly excused. “She doesn’t even get to wear her ring that often. She couldn’t change her name on paperwork at our office because a working married woman… it’s heavily frowned upon.” 

“Well, I’d have to agree.” Cyrus grunted. “A woman shouldn’t be out working. A woman should be at home raising a family.” 

“I - I suppose you’re right.” Reid agreed through gritted teeth. 

He walked away toward the school before he got too angry again. 

… 

A few hours later, everything had gone to hell. 

Some authority - the police, the military, you didn’t even know - had charged into the Ranch shooting. In response, Cyrus and his followers had come into the school toting large semi-automatics asking you and Spencer if you knew about a raid. 

You didn’t. You wish you had known about a raid. You would have warned Hotch and gotten them to call it off. You certainly would not have been there while it was happening. 

When they had pointed those guns in your face and forced you into the tunnels - it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then. Cowering in the bunker, confused and scared, you flung your arms around his waist almost instinctively, and he buried his nose in the top of your hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like a shield, promising you that everything was going to be okay. 

Whispered to you like that, coming from him - it was almost easier to believe. Even with the chaos going on around you and the fear pumping through you in response. 

Nancy had run off trying to get them to surrender and did not come back. You had a feeling that you knew what that meant. 

And now, with the kids from the school ‘evacuated’ into the church, you were being held in the cellar at gunpoint. They had forcefully separated you and Spencer, making you sit in chairs at opposite sides of the room.

Spencer was fidgeting. His eyes kept flickering from the door, to you, to the man standing beside you holding the very large gun. 

You knew that you had ugly tear tracks down your face, and oddly enough - you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. As you were forced to sit there, just a few feet across the room away from him - you ached for it. 

There was a very large possibility that you were going to die today. And you selfishly needed the comfort of being in the arms of someone familiar - someone safe. Someone you knew would never hurt you. Someone who had made you laugh with dumb science jokes and puns for the last five years that you had worked together with him. 

When Cyrus charged back into the room with two men flanking his sides, you and Spencer stiffened up once again. 

“God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Cyrus announced to the room, presenting a handgun from his belt. 

Your insides quaked, and Spencer’s eyes grew wide. 

You couldn’t contain the fearful whimper that erupted from the back of your throat when he raised that gun and placed it near the middle of Spencer’s forehead. You clasped a hand tightly over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in protest, knowing that would only make things worse. 

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus asked firmly. 

Which ‘one’? 

So he knew that you were undercover, that you had lied about your job titles - but he thought that only one of you had done so. Where the hell was he getting his information? 

“I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer told him quietly, looking him in the eye the entire time. 

You hoped that his stutter could be passed off as nervousness from the gun being pointed in his face, and wouldn’t be pointed to as deception. 

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus pressed. 

“We are not FBI Agents.” Spencer said, more confidently this time. “We are Child Victim Interview Experts. We were only sent here to ensure the wellbeing of the children. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Well, that last part wasn’t a lie. 

“You’re lying.” Cyrus told him, entirely confident in this. “God expells those who lie, devils in sheep’s clothing.” 

There was a tense moment, and then Cyrus cocked the gun. 

Spencer didn’t flinch. You resisted the urge to scream. 

“Proverbs 12:22 says: ‘The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.’” Cyrus said, actually citing scripture this time. 

He was giving Spencer one last chance to tell the truth. As if using the bible verse to say that his punishment would be lesser if he simply told the truth now. 

Spencer didn’t take the bait. 

“I’m not lying.” Spencer said firmly. “What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent? This is the woman I wake up next to every single morning, the woman I go to sleep next to every single night, we work together every single day, we-” 

Cyrus interrupted Spencer’s ranting with a sharp hit to the face, pistol whipping him across the cheek. 

This caused Spencer to go flying off the chair, and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry. It took everything in you not to jump out of your own chair and rush to Spencer where he had collapsed onto the ground, clutching his cheek. 

“Someone is going to tell me the truth.” Cyrus said gruffly. 

“It must have been Nancy!” You said, the idea finally popping into your head. 

You seemed to be more clever with the pressure of Spencer’s life being threatened. Cyrus stared you down, turning his attention fully toward you now. You caught Spencer’s eye for a moment and he gave you a small nod - as if to say ‘yes, keep going with that’. 

“The woman we came in with! Nancy!” You reasoned, continuing to point the finger at the woman you had to assume was dead. “We - we just met her today. Our boss introduced us to her, but we had never met before that. If she was FBI, we had no clue. We swear.” 

Cyrus turned to you then, and tightly pressed the barrel of his gun into your forehead. You could feel the imprint of it so tight in your skin that it hurt, and you could only lean away so far before threatening to knock the chair backwards. 

“It’s very convenient to pin this crime on someone who isn’t here.” He grunted at you. 

“It’s the truth.” You sniffled out quietly. 

“Hmm.” Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, and then, much to your surprise, he removed the gun barrel from your forehead. 

You barely had a moment to breathe in relief before he began skimming the gun down your neck, touching the metal whisper-gentle across your bare skin - clearly taunting you. It was something that made your whole body stiff with alarm, and caused Spencer’s eyes to go wide once again.

“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” Cyrus said, teasing the gun along the buttons at the front of your cardigan. 

You held back a sob at the thought of it - at the idea that he could make you do almost anything for the fear of you being shot. Truthfully, you were more afraid of what he might do to Spencer if you didn’t comply, but it was all the same in your mind now. His life was just as valuable as yours, and you would do whatever it took to protect him.

Before Cyrus could take these threats any further, a heroic voice intervened. 

“That’s enough!” Spencer yelled. 

He gathered himself off the floor and oddly enough, none of the men moved to stop him as he came to stand beside Cyrus. Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat. Perhaps it was because Cyrus didn’t bark any orders at them to stop him. He was entirely unflinching, keeping his focus on you and keeping his gun held between your breasts as Spencer crowded into his personal space, trying to press himself between you and the awful man. 

“We’ve told you everything that we know.” Spencer told him lowly, his voice heaving with well controlled anger. It was something that you had rarely ever heard from him. 

Cyrus kept his eyes locked on you, so Spencer continued. 

“We don’t know anything about the FBI - we have a simple job advocating for children who have been abused. That is it. We came here to investigate a most likely false claim against someone in your community and we truly didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” He said firmly, clearly trying to appeal to Cyrus. “So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.” 

Spencer’s voice was dark, so thick with rage. More pent up rage than you had ever heard from him when he was talking to any suspect, people who had done the worst of the worst. Something about Cyrus threatening you had truly boiled his insides. 

The way he said the words ‘my wife’ - growling it out like he was a feral animal and this threat to you had activated every single one of his protective instincts. Hearing it made something inside of you yearn for him on such a deep level that you didn’t know was possible. You wanted to feel that kind of protection cast over you every single day. It made you feel invincible, having Spencer watch over you like that. 

Cyrus lowered the gun then, and Spencer grabbed your arm as you dissolved into hysterical tears. Instinctively, he lifted you up into his arms. You thought that you heard Cyrus mumble out ‘my apologies’ as he left the room - but he was barely on your radar. Your entire world became narrowed down to nothing but Spencer, your safety net as he built a wall of protection around you. 

He used his height to block you from seeing anything but him, letting you push your face into his chest as you cried. He wrapped you in his arms once again, letting you feel truly safe for a few moments as you sobbed into the fabric of his sweater. Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him - needing to ensure that he didn’t leave you. 

“Hey, shh. Shh. It’s okay.” He said, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your forehead and your hair, rubbing across your back with one hand, comforting you in the only way he could in those moments. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Of course, he wanted to break down too. But he had to be strong for you. 

“Spencer,” You called his name in an utterly wounded voice, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. 

When you saw his injury up close - a sharp, purple-red bruise that was blooming across his cheek, it looked so utterly painful. Your insides ached at the thought that he had taken a blow for you. You hated to imagine what more they could have done to him if they had not believed your lies. 

You instinctively reached a hand up to touch it and he caught your fingers halfway, instead, gently grasping your hand and laying it on his chest. The intimacy felt so oddly rehearsed - so worn in, so ‘normal’. It felt like you had been married to Spencer for years. Like it wasn’t a play at all. 

Your two souls had been calling out to each other for years, just waiting for the dam to break. But you couldn’t quite put it into words - not like that. 

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, knowing you were horrified by the injury. 

He was so gentle, so comforting, so calm. Everything the men pointing guns at you were not. Unlike Cyrus - Spencer Reid was a true blessing from God. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back then. 

You surged up and kissed him, fully embracing his mouth with yours in a kiss. Though it was so sudden, it was something he easily returned. The kiss so full of urgency, so needy, so passionate. Like he was trying to tell you that it was okay, that he would protect you no matter what. 

He would protect you because you belonged to him. 

In those moments, the two of you were basically alone. One of Cryus’ men was guarding the door, watching on boredly. But Cyrus was off in the church, funneling people in to prepare for his ‘loyalty’ test. It didn’t matter if he saw you kissing or not - it wouldn’t have sold the reuse of you being married any better. 

This was just for the two of you. This was comfort. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, Spencer looked stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. You didn’t give him time to question it. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly. 

It was twofold:

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for giving me comfort. 

Spencer didn’t have too much time to marinate in the meaning of the kiss before Cyrus’ men came back and fetched the two of you, wanting you to observe the loyalty test. 

… 

After the mock poisoning (which Spencer figured out rather quickly, making you admire his cleverness once again), Cyrus kept you and Spencer in the church with a few of his closest, most loyal followers while all of the low level followers dispersed back to their homes. 

You and Spencer were lingering in the back quietly while Cyrus was on the other end of the room, talking to his men about how to proceed. The plans for their ‘final stand’. 

“We need to get some kind of signal to the others.” Spencer whispered quietly. “Maybe they’ll take pity on you and let you go if-” He swallowed sharply, cutting himself off abruptly. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to voice whatever was on his mind. 

“If what?” You probed. You wondered what the hell you could possibly be thinking. 

“If we tell them that you’re pregnant.” He said, whispering so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words. 

You rolled your eyes sharply at this. 

You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle. 

(In those moments, clouded by fear, you couldn’t see it for what it truly was - Spencer blatantly revealing his unconscious desires to have a baby with you.) 

“We could convince them to release you. As a show of good faith. A pregnancy would be good leverage in that. You know how religious people are about fetuses-” Spencer reasoned. 

“Yeah, and what if they give me a test?” You probed, punching a large hole in his logic. “We don’t know what kind of infirmary they have here. They obviously believe in modern technology. What if they want to give me an ultrasound to check on the fetus after the stress of the day? To prove that they did no harm to the precious unborn child,” 

Spencer was easily caught on this point. If they examined you and found that you weren’t pregnant, all the lies would fall apart. 

“Well… what if we tell them that you have a baby at home that you need to get back to?” Spencer reasoned, jumping to the next logical conclusion in his mind. “It’ll likely garner the same level of pity.” 

“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” You whispered back sharply. Spencer rolled his eyes this time. But he didn’t redact the plan as unreasonable, so you continued on. “Okay, what do I even do when I get out there? I’m not gonna be of any use to the tactical team. We don’t know what Cyrus’ final play is yet.” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t bear to be separated from Spencer. Knowing that he was inside, potentially being beaten up more, potentially being shot and bleeding out from a wound without you knowing - it would kill you with stress. You need to be by his side. You needed to know that he was okay. 

“Has God blessed your union with any children?” Cyrus appeared behind you suddenly. 

You wondered if he had heard you say the word ‘pregnancy’ or if this was just a random topic that had come up in his mind. 

His sudden appearance behind you caused you to whip around and crowd into the comfort of Spencer’s arms again because you were frightened. Naturally, Spencer wrapped his sheltering touch around your shoulders. Your back was gently pressed into Spencer’s front, his arm shielding you protectively as it was wrapped around your chest, holding you with his hand on one of your shoulders, unconsciously stroking his thumb across the fabric of your cardigan. The position had you both facing Cyrus, watching the fan in an offensive way. 

And of course, Spencer didn’t miss a beat. 

“Yes.” Spencer answered easily. “We have two kids at home. A boy and a girl. Iris and Hugo. Iris is almost three years old and Hugo is eleven months. His first birthday is coming up in June.” 

You knew that Spencer could be very good at talking off a suspect’s ear under pressure, but when you heard him rattle off these ‘facts’ so easily, it hit you. 

This wasn’t simply statistics or physiological knowledge - this was a very elaborate backstory for your supposedly real marriage. Perhaps he had thought about all of it on the car ride up (which was odd not to share it with you, in case Cyrus asked you a similar question and your answer didn’t match up with Spencer’s). 

But if you weren’t mistaken, this wasn’t simply a backstory for your fake marriage during the undercover mission. This was a fantasy of his. Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children - kids he had dreamed up in his head and wanted to be real. 

Your heart ached at the thought of it. You found yourself missing a set of children that weren’t even real. (And distantly, wanting to jump his bones to make it a reality.)

“Tell me, Mr. Reid, would you find it so shameful for your daughter to marry young?” Cyrus asked. 

You found it odd to hear Cyrus call Spencer ‘Mr. Reid’, but you realized that he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘Doctor’ in this setting. You held your tongue when you felt the need to correct him as you had so many other people, wanting Spencer to receive his proper title. 

Your mind almost couldn’t focus on the question that Cyrus had asked. Of course, he was trying to get Spencer to stroke his ego once again. Basically admitting that the whole reason the two of you had come here was true - he was being vastly inappropriate with a young member of the church, and getting away with it. And he saw nothing wrong with it. 

And he was trying to get an outsider to admit that he saw nothing wrong with it too. 

When there was a moment of silence - Reid obviously torn on how to answer the question, Cyrus continued. 

“Is there really something so wrong with a blooming young woman marrying a man who will protect her under God’s laws?” He probed, his voice so entirely confident. Clearly confident that he was right. 

“Well, I’m not sure if I would let my daughter get married so young.” Reid said, finally speaking up. “I just know that I would want her to marry a man that would protect her, and be the best possible fit for her. Someone who would cherish her and be good to her no matter what.” 

His answer made you swoon. You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head - dizzyingly, you were imagining him walking your imaginary daughter down the aisle before you had even gotten married yourself. 

Maybe it was being so close to death, being threatened in such dangerous territory that was causing your life to accelerate at light speed in your mind. If you were going to lose everything, you might as well enjoy the escapism of a fake life with a beautiful man in your mind instead of being stuck on the heart pounding terror of being held hostage, right? 

Surprisingly, his words drew a smile from Cyrus. 

“You’re a protective father, aren’t you?” Cyrus asked. 

“Of course.” Reid confirmed. 

“I can always admire that in a man.” Cyrus nodded. “A man should always pride himself on protecting his family.” 

There was another moment of pause, and you were hoping that the topic had been dropped completely. 

“Do you have a picture of your children with you?” Cyrus asked. 

You wondered if - in a different version of reality, where you and Spencer really were married, where Hugo and Iris really did exist - if you had a picture of them in your pocket, would Cyrus only be asking this so he could use the picture to taunt the two of you? What other purpose would he have for knowing what your children looked like? 

“Unfortunately, no.” You answered. “I keep my family pictures on my desk. In my office. We - we’ve just been praying to get back to them safely.” 

Cyrus seemed perturbed at you mentioning that you had an office. Something dark flickered over his features for a moment and then disappeared. 

“Well… if it is right, God will grant you that safe passage.” Cyrus said. 

Just when you truly thought the conversation was done, he said something to you that entirely grinded under your skin. 

“I find it entirely odd that a mother of two young children spends her days working a job where she takes care of other people’s children, rather than staying at home with her own youngins where she belongs.” 

He said, using that same entirely confident, righteous tone that he always did. Even though you were not really a working mother, you had a hard time not boiling with anger at the sexism ripe in his statement. 

“How much must you be missing of your sweet angels lives to instead partake in the horrors of devils you shouldn’t have to witness.” 

Of course. 

You had a hard time not rolling your eyes at this or saying something harsh that would set him off. Instead, you reached up to Spencer’s arm around your shoulder, squeezing his fingers, trying to keep your patience.

“I’ll have you know that Y/N is an amazing mother.” Spencer piped up, knowing that Cyrus respected him enough as a man that he wouldn’t beat him simply for speaking up. “Her nurturing and caring makes her infinitely better at her job.” 

Again, you knew that there was so much personal truth in Spencer’s words. He thought that you would make an amazing mother to his children - at least theoretically. He was entirely firm in that conviction. And he thought that your natural caring made you amazing at the job you did as a Profiler. He knew this from the quality of work he witnessed you doing every single day. 

You didn’t know it - but it was just one of the many things that had caused him to fall in love with you. 

Oddly enough, Cyrus’ words prodded at something deep inside of you. It made you imagine a life for yourself where you weren’t spending your days witnessing horrors from unspeakable devils - but instead, at home, looking out for Spencer’s imaginary children. 

You would have said it was the fear of the day, clouding your mind. But maybe it was the clarity of being so close to death that made you realize what - and who - you truly wanted out of life. 

… 

Hours later, after some of the hostages had been released (the ‘non-believers’ who had failed the loyalty test), Cyrus had requested that some food be sent up. Spencer gave you a sharp look when he saw the message written on one of the takeout lids. 

The team would be storming in to end the hold-out at 3am. You had to somehow ensure the safety of the hostages by then. 

Obviously, the fake pregnancy idea was still warping through Spencer’s mind, but you had come up with some much better. 

“Cyrus,” You called out his name gently, getting his attention. “You said that you have a nursery here?” 

It had come up, during his long winded bragging about how perfect the Ranch was. Something about how mothers didn’t have to raise their children alone. The children were raised as more of a ‘group effort’ and women took ‘shifts’ in the nursery, allowing the women to rest or get chores done in the interim. 

“Yes, we do.” He nodded. 

Spencer stared at you with his jaw set, wondering what you were doing but not daring to speak. 

“I - I’ve been missing my children dearly. I was wondering if I could go to your nursery and see if they need any help? It would do my soul good to be around young ones right now. After all the commotion of these days.” You spoke meekly, trying to play the part of the shaken up, dainty woman well. 

Which was too difficult, seeing as you were playing up the fear you had already experienced. 

He grinned. It was a rather menacing smile, and you tried your hardest not to show any further fear, or disgust. 

“That sounds like a splendid idea.” He nodded. “Christopher, why don’t you escort her down to the nursery and then come back? We need you here for our final preparations.” 

You were finally falling to those gender roles that he had been pushing on you since you had arrived. He didn’t suspect a thing. He simply thought that you were a God fearing woman falling to your natural womanly instincts, needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die. 

Spencer rose from his seat and Cyrus stopped him. 

“Just your wife.” He said, putting a hand in front of Spencer’s chest to stop him. “There are still some things you and I need to discuss. Man to man.” 

You went over to Spencer and didn’t hesitate to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which he returned with vigor. This one lasted only a moment - it was something precious for the two of you. You didn’t need to put on some pointed show for the men in the room. 

“It’s okay.” You told Spencer quietly, brushing your fingers gently over his uninjured cheek. 

You could tell that he was dying to ask you what your plan was. But he kept the words trapped in his throat, unable to speak in front of the many temperamental villains lurking about. 

“Come on.” Christopher grunted. 

Spencer gave you a longing look as you left. He didn’t want to think it, but as he watched your figure retreat out the door, he feared that it would be the last time he ever saw you. 

… 

Your plan worked flawlessly. 

Getting to the nursery meant that you had unsupervised access to the women and children, especially away from Cyrus’ prying ears. Because you were a ‘delicate’ woman, nobody suspected you of having ulterior motives. You easily found a crack in Kathy, Jessica’s mother. You spotted her as the one who had made the original 9-1-1 call, wanting to get her daughter away from Cyrus. You convinced her to help you get everyone out, and you felt intense relief when you were met with a familiar face in the cellar as everyone escaped through the tunnels. 

“Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you, glancing behind your shoulder as if waiting for him to appear. 

“He’s still up at the church.” You told him. “I had to separate off to help get the women and children out-” 

“Go on, we have to get you out!” Morgan urged, trying to gently usher you along. 

“We have to go get Reid!” You argued, trying to turn around. 

“Go, go on, I’ll go get Reid!” He told you. 

You were about to argue back, but you were cut off by a scuffle behind you. 

Jessica was yelling about Cyrus - how her mother had betrayed her, tricked her. 

Morgan pushed Kathy toward you and ran off screaming for Jessica. You took Kathy’s arm, gently convincing her that everything was going to be okay as you guided her the rest of the way out. You had to focus on this, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out - that they were both going to be okay. 

When you got outside, you were hyper focused on marching away, taking a path away from the church as directed by the officers in charge. You froze in your tracks when you heard it - an earth shattering boom. The ground beneath your feet shook. You felt a puff of hot air swell to touch your back. 

You let go of Kathy’s arm and whipped around, and you couldn’t even pay attention to where she went. You almost thought you heard her weeping, but your mind couldn’t process it as your eyes were glossed in bright orange flame. 

It was the church. 

“Spencer?” You gasped quietly. “Spencer!” 

You couldn’t help it, but you began to run toward it. Your feet carried you faster than you could think, and before you got more than a few feet across the ground, you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm. 

“L/N!” 

Hotch’s voice, sounding far too distant for the position he held right behind you, viciously gripping onto you as you fought against him, trying to get toward the fire - trying to get to Spencer. 

“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” Hotch tried to order you around, tried to get you to stand down. 

He got a hand around your waist, and you continued to kick like a wild horse, fighting against his grip as hot tears poured down your face. 

“He’s in there!” You sobbed. “Spencer is still in there.” 

“Calm. Down.” Hotch ordered sharply. 

You collapsed back into him sobbing, all of the fight leaving your muscles at once. You couldn’t fake the reality in front of you. 

“You running in there and getting hurt isn’t going to change anything.” Hotch told you quietly, a somehow distant murmur into your ear. 

Through the blur of your tears and the sharp orange glow, you saw the shape of two bodies. You heard coughing as someone emerged from the blast, hobbling down the stairs at the front of the church. You forced your eyes open wider, trying to see who it was, and then: 

“Y/N!” Spencer called out your name gruffly through the smoke he had inhaled, and you easily shucked off Hotch’s grip to race up the stairs to get to him. 

He was leaning on Morgan for support and you were worried that he was hurt. But the moment you were close enough, he tore himself away from Morgan and the two of you met in the middle. In a pattern that was easily developing, you fell into the safety of his arms, holding him tight enough to bruise him - never wanting to let go. 

“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?” 

You sobbed out, gripping both sides of his face, staring into his eyes, needing the recognition that he was right there, right in front of you. 

He stared back with glassiness - intense fear, adrenaline, and something small that told you he was thankful for you, and needed you now more than ever. 

Of course, your words were simple anger at the situation, not at Spencer himself. The terror of thinking that he was dead still pumping through your veins, causing you to shake. 

“I know.” He said quietly. “I love you.” 

His voice wrapped around the words so tenderly - it was the most sincere declaration you had ever heard from him. As if to say ‘I know how much that scared you. I know what this ordeal has done to us and I only meant it more because of how scared I am’. 

“I love you too.” The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt. You took a moment to recover, entirely shocked by your own lips. And then, you only found the need to say it growing more inside of you. “Spencer, I love you.” 

You pulled him toward you with the grip you had on his face, and he easily met you in one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced. 

It was no longer a show, it was no longer about displaying the fake marriage for someone else’s benefit - if it had ever been about that in the first place. It was about the two of you. It was about feeling that comfort, that safety. It was about the fact that your two souls were drawn together since the day you had met. The fact that you had always felt safe with each other. You had always been the other person’s shelter from the storm. 

And you poured every ounce of those feelings into that kiss. 

You combed your fingers through Spencer’s hair, taking a harsh grip on the back of it, holding him there so he couldn’t pull away from your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your sweater. Both of you entirely refused to come up for oxygen, not even caring who saw the epically passionate, public display of your love for each other. 

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan and Hotch exchanged a look with raised brows as it happened. You and Spencer didn’t care. You were barely perceiving the world around you as the two of you kissed. 

“You know if you’re not careful, people are actually gonna think you two are married.” Morgan said, being his usual sarcastic self. 

Rather than pulling away from Spencer’s lips to sass him back - you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder. 

On the ride home, JJ handed Derek five dollars. He had the over/under that the two of you would get together before the end of the year. JJ said that it wouldn’t happen for another five years, at least. Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea. 

When Emily and JJ relayed the story to Penelope, she squealed so loudly into the phone that JJ dropped it. 

Hotch pulled you aside later and warned you that the fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them. He also recommended that you and Spencer put in the paperwork with HR if you were ‘serious’ about the relationship. You knew that it was him wishing the two of you his best. 

A few days later when you came into work and found the HR request for an update of relationship status sitting on your desk, already signed by Spencer, you couldn’t help but to smile.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, so there will not be a continuation or a sequel to it. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that I have written, rather than asking me to write 'more'. If you want to see more things that I have written about Spencer, feel free to check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist.

[naryrising]

To the (I'm hoping) young person who commented on a fic of mine to say that usually written smut is "cringey" but this fic was good, I have some notes.

I'm sure you meant this as praise, but it did not feel like a kind comment to me. It felt backhanded and insulting. You can praise someone's work without putting other people's work in the same genre down.

Lots of my fandom friends write smut. I write a lot of other smut that you don't know about. It's rude to me, my friends, and my community to say that usually the things they make for fun and personal enjoyment are "cringey".

I would gently invite you to engage in some introspection about why your response to the honest expression of sexuality, to works intended to provoke desire or arousal, is to cringe away from it. Unlearning shame and being open-minded will do you a lot of good in life. You'll also find more things you like if you let yourself enjoy things without embarrassment!

Not every piece of smut you read will be appealing to you personally, but it's still someone's fantasy, they put in the effort to write it as best as they could, and above all they were incredibly brave to put it out there and let other people see it, knowing that they would likely be judged for it. Be kind, be generous, and if you can't be either, then be silent.

[panlight]

I genuinely love and am fascinated by the found family of the Cullens, just this whole concept of people from different time periods and geographic locations forming a family.

(I love the concept with the Pack, too, but it's different in that they are all roughly the same age and grew up in the same place.)

But I find that sometimes people take the family thing too literally for my tastes. And again: write and read what you like! I'm just saying that for me part of the appeal is that it's not any easy 1 to 1 comparison to a nuclear family. In my head, Esme and Carlisle might have parental roles, but they aren't like . . . grounding anyone, or making them do their homework, because their "kids" are immortal vampires and not actual teenagers.

I also think the fact that they were all raised by someone else to adulthood or nearly adulthood is a factor, too. I can go hang out with my parents and brothers as an adult and fall into some childhood patterns, but the Cullens don't have that, at least not in the human sense. Esme didn't teach Edward how to tie his shoes. Carlisle didn't teach Alice the alphabet. They weren't involved in their childhoods. They were 17-20 years old when they came into Esme and Carlisle's lives; adoption is absolutely a valid way to have a family, but Esme and Carlisle never experienced raising a baby or child. The dynamic would naturally be very different here.

(I guess you could argue that from a vampire perspective they raised 'newborns' but like, Esme came after Edward, and Alice and Jasper were already mature vampires when they showed up.)

And again, I like this, I think it's interesting, and that's why the fics lean too hard into just making this like, The Brady Bunch generally lose me. I think C/Es play roles like parents. I think the Cullen kids see each other (other than their spouses) like siblings. I think they use these human terms to explain their relationships but they are imprecise, that it's different when you really didn't grow up together, but you were helped through the newborn year or adjusting to vegetarianism or whatever. There are bonds there and it's a family, but it's not quite a human family, and that's what makes it interesting to me.

[harrowscore]

🥳🎉 it's complete!!! 🥳🎉 36k~ words. not bad!!

not me writing 8k words of a watchmen fanfic in a single day hahahaha

[shibaraki]

🍉 ─ SPONSOR A WIP FOR GAZA

Hi friends!! I don't know how this will go but I wanted to participate and help contribute a little bit more to the fundraising efforts for Gaza set up by ficsforgaza. I’m taking things slower on the writing front this year so I only have a few to list, some longer than others. Even so, I hope some appeal to you and encourage you to give a donation.

RATE: $1 per 100 words

INSTRUCTIONS: donate to a vetted fundraiser of your choosing, take a screenshot of the donation confirmation (make sure your private information is censored) and send it to me along with the title of whatever WIP you're sponsoring!

Here’s an example:

hi monty! here's proof of my donation to child mohammed and family's gofundme. I'd like this to go toward the wip 'name your courage' :) ty!! [screenshot.png showing evidence of donation states that $5 was given, therefore 500 words will be written for the wip titled 'name your courage']

Upon receiving your ask (I won't be publishing them) I will amend the list below and prioritise progressing that WIP as well as keeping this post updated weekly. Just for clarity: I’ll be submitting redacted evidence I receive to @ficsforgaza to try and ensure that people are not sending those same screenshots to different writers.

TO AVOID BEING OVERWHELMED I HAVE MADE A DONATION WC GOAL FOR EACH WIP❗️Just to be clear—donations go towards progressing a WIP. The sole purpose of this is to encourage donations and spread awareness. Every little bit helps. Even if a fic doesn’t get completed right away I still appreciate your participation and promise to fulfil the WC goals.

🍉 ─ WIPS AVAILABLE:

↳ NAME YOUR COURAGE — BAKUGO KATSUKI #: GN AFAB reader, post canon au, quirkless discrimination, falling in love, social work, worldbuilding, angst + fluff + eventual smut

determined to reach deep inside himself and reconcile the shame that still lingers there, pro hero dynamight publicly aligns with a well-known quirkless charity organization. what he gains is greater than he could’ve imagined.

current wc: 12,932/20,000+ donated (goal) wc: 5,000/5,000 🎊 ☑️

↳ A MANY SPLENDORED THING — KUROO TETSURO #: GN AFAB reader, divorcee kuroo, best friends to lovers, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut + romance

you wonder, not for the first time, why tetsuro could never see what was right in front of him. it was as though the compass of his sharp intuition reversed polarity when you were in the vicinity. you’ve been in love with him since you were sixteen and he’s the one person that never noticed.

current wc: 13,962/20,000+ donated (goal) wc: 5,000/5,000 🎊 ☑️

↳ #HEARTBURN — TODOROKI SHOUTO [COLLAB FIC] #: GN reader, meet-cutes, social media + shipping, reader is a paramedic, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff + humour

who knew your run-ins with the suspiciously accident prone pro-hero shouto would capture the hearts of the general public—or that a bit of harmless flirting could have such inconvenient consequences?

current wc: 2,900/5,000 donated (goal) wc: 2,500/2,500 🎊 ☑️

↳ EMERGENCY CONTACT — AIZAWA SHOUTA #: GN reader, friends to lovers, fluff + humour, sexual tension, reader is an underground hero, adopted eri, getting together

when aizawa gives eri a special card with a number to call if there’s ever a big emergency and no one else is around who can help, he doesn't consider the fact that her idea of an emergency is vastly different from his.

current wc: 2,300/3,000 donated (goal) wc: 2,500/2,500 🎊

↳ THE STAG — OKKOTSU YUUTA [RETURNING WIP!] #: AFAB reader, courtesan au (no curses), courtesan yuuta, reader is a tailor, falling in (forbidden) love, fluff + angst, love letters

your hands were made to embroider, to cut fine silks and sew tales into fabric. from time to time they’ll find themselves touching a courtesans skin. it is only to measure, and never for pleasure.

current wc: 649/? donated (goal) wc: 2,000/2,000 🎊

↳ SOMETHING BORROWED — NANAMI KENTO [EVENT WIP!] #: AFAB GN reader, no curse au, neighbours to lovers, single parent nanami, foster kids yuji + sukuna, fake engagement, pining, getting together

the precious little you know about your neighbor is that he’s handsome, unmarried, and he has two long term foster sons. after the twins panic during an inspection and identify you as nanami’s fiancé, you’re left with the opportunity to learn more. 

current wc: 10,288/? donated (goal) wc: 250/2,000 ☑️

That’s all for now, though there is a possibility that I will add more WIPs later. And let me know if you’ve got any questions (or if I’ve missed anything lol).

It’s totally fine if you can’t donate or if none of these fics appeal to you!! Please feel free to check out the other writers on @ficsforgaza’s page if you’d rather sponsor some different fics, or even make requests to those accepting them ^_^ thank you guys!

HERE’S EVEN MORE WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE, AND DON’T FORGET YOUR DAILY CLICKS!

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

okay . while i was writing the essay , i was going on a big spiel about how fandoms often reduce characters to familiar archetypes . then when i finished writing i realized i actually don't know what the Fuck i was yapping about because it all doesn't really apply to the tadc fandom post-ep 2 ? like Cool !! ragatha's an absolute loser of a woman , i think everyone has known that at this point .

basically ragatha's not the Best model for when i want to talk about nice characters being mischaracterized in fandom because i stopped seeing people making her put-together anyway . i can think of other characters that'll fit the thesis better .

i'm only deciding to post what i had down because i think i did say some stuff of note and because people were interested for . some reason ! . just keep in mind that it kind of became a nothingburger .

i'm in the middle of rewriting it to be less about the fandom though and my god it's already around 1118 words what am i doing with my life

also apologies in advance for the walls of text

——— this is not an essay to get you to like ragatha if you’re feeling meh towards her , or even dislike her . opinions are opinions , you have characters that appeal to you and i have mine ! this is just a ramblefest on why i love her , how people characterized her , and commentary on fandom culture as a whole

this is also not meant to bash any headcanons ! like good for you if you see her as the mother figure in the circus found family . the term ‘ mom friend ‘ here is used to describe how people often reduced her and similar characters down to a caretaker role for other characters while ignoring the Depth they have

as i think is clear in this blog by now , my favorite character in a piece of fiction has always been a mentally ill woman . the more complicated the brain , the better . i don’t have a type , but i know more often than not i would gravitate towards characters that are either misunderstood or disliked by most of the fandom

can you guess which category ragatha falls under —

don’t get me wrong , i am NOT generalizing tadc fans here ! the idea of her being a well-put together person lessened around episode 2 which is GREAT because i got to read very cool fics — and i’m not saying you have to know every part of ragatha’s thought processes to talk about her ( though at this point i think i’ve heard enough takes that makes me want to say that — )

‘ nice characters ‘ ( especially female ones ! ) in fandom never have the most pleasant development in my experience . either they will be pushed aside because they’re seen as boring compared to the more brasher characters or they’ll be disliked for the few times they did something seen as ‘ not so nice ‘ . and in the few times where they Are being paid attention , they’ll be put in an arbitrary box that waters down their traits .

in other words , fandoms put characters in boxes . terms like ‘ mom friend ‘ and ‘ cinnamon roll ‘ are those boxes . they're common tropes in media that fandoms typically like . it’s why people were so disappointed to find out that jax is actually an unlikable asshole instead of a ' jerk with a heart of gold ' — these boxes make the characters easy to consume and understand .

as you can tell , i don’t agree with putting characters in boxes ! first of all , how are they supposed to breathe in there ?

secondly , it’s just restricting yourself from genuinely engaging with a piece of media , especially for a character-driven story like tadc . i would be More forgiving of this problem if tadc was a plot-heavy show where the lore’s the main focus , but The Characters Are The Focus , Johnathan . trying to understand the characters personally to extract any potential moral lessons from them Is The Point of those types of stories

thirdly , i call those boxes arbitrary for a reason ; they often don't describe the characters at all , and in some cases , even goes against their characterization . my biggest problem with mom friend ragatha is that it Takes away the things that makes her interesting as a character .

do you know what's so compelling about ragatha ? it's that , believe it or not , she is Not the most reliable . one of the most fascinating things with ragatha in episode two is how it shows her approaching emotions Vs. Pomni approaching emotions .

even though it's unintentional , ragatha can be seen as Dismissive and Overbearing . the way she tried to reassure pomni of not feeling hurt by being left behind can seem Passive-Aggressive . her conversation with kinger shows that she Assumes what the other person thinks without hearing them out . this contrasts against pomni who lets gummigoo speak out his feelings and actually had viable things to say than ' don't worry about it haha '

this contrast is interesting to note because it shows the world of difference between ragatha and pomni's emotional maturity .

you can tell that ragatha can be simple-minded . not in a ' she's a dumbass ' way , but in that she's Reluctant to approach uncomfortable emotions without beaming it with a ray of positivity . like you can tell she thinks that Repressing her emotions to the point she can't feel them is the same as ' processing ' them . all of these are stuff that don't fit the Mature Mom Friend archetype .

and that's Fine !! because she was never meant to be in the role anyway !! there's a common theme of Community and Support in tadc , and that Everyone Has Each Other . ragatha was never meant to be the Glue holding everyone together , she's meant to be a part of the Unit that is the circus .

there's also a conversation to be had about how older female characters — or at least characters that are seen as having stereotypically ' feminine ' traits of being kind and caring — are often being pushed to a reductive , supportive familial role that reinforces gender roles , but you didn't hear it from me !

anyways uh in conclusion ragatha's awesomesauce ok i'm going back to drawing

[underskz]

➪ mark lee x reader ✩ w.c ~500 — 18+ minors dni —

✰ NON-IDOL AU

pov: spilled beer + hot asshole = bad decisions

note: yeah again idk i saw these pics of mark and that stupid red solo cup and was like sure ok write a blurb or whatever of him at a party :') i hate my brain it's getting critical...idk think nct 127 party and specifically that vid where they're playing pong bc thats forever in my brain and will forever serve as inspo for any and all party fics with them..... this is a cry for help

warnings: alcohol, bad language, mark (tbh all of the members in this) is not so secretly a dick and a player lol, a weak semblance of plot i put together with spit and duct tape (don't read too much into it)

"Oh shit! Aw man, my bad."

The cold splash of beer soaking through the front of your shirt is more than enough to have your head snapping up to shoot the nastiest glare you can possibly conjure at the offender.

Mark fucking Lee.

Standing before you with that stupid wide eyed look on his face and hands clasped together apologetically. You're eyebrow twitches when you can hear a few snickers coming from the general vicinity of where you last saw Johnny and Jaehyun, slightly tightening your grip on your own cup and biting down the temptation of chucking it in their direction.

And any other clueless twit would've been putty the moment they realized just who exactly doused them with at least half a cup of shitty beer, accepting his sorry excuse for an apology in a heartbeat.

"Don't you mean, sorry?" You hiss, jaw aching from how tightly your teeth press together. Again you swallow down every venomous word crawling up your throat, all too appealing when he cocks his head.

"Oh yeah sure, sorry." And he smirks, one of his dimples fully on display and he's truly the epitome of the most unapologetic fuckboy you've ever been cursed to lay eyes upon.

"Fuck off, I'm outta here." Slamming down your cup on a nearby surface before turning to shoot one last glare at Mark.

You only agreed to coming here because your friend had begged you to damn near on their hands and knees and some pitiful story about needing to get into Yuta's pants.

But just as you take a step back his hand shoots out, fingers tightly wrapping around your wrist and now you're wondering if punching him right in that stupid dimple is an overkill.

"Aw, don't be like that, you can borrow one of mine!"

"I'd rather chew pavement." There's a twinge in your chest when he pouts, looking a little wounded at the harshness of your tone.

And maybe you didn't have a real reason for hating him, other than the fact he's led on two of your friends—just to leave them in tears and you to pick up the pieces—and obnoxiously dated that one stereotypical mean girl you had the displeasure of attending the same university with.

"Okay okay, here, I'll give you this one." Releasing your wrist and starting to take off the loose black tee hanging off of him.

"Fuckin'- stop, stop, fine!" Your hands coming to catch his this time around, irritation throbbing in your temples as you let him lead you towards his room. You well enough know the second you step foot into it your fate is sealed, the stories and rumors infamous in the social circle the two of you share.

He opens the door and grins at you, hand extended as if he's some sort of gentleman. You take it.

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 6

Hello! And welcome to another chapter of this very underrated fic. Thank you to everyone who has given it love in the way of comments, reblogs/tags, and likes.

It's London calling! And we meet a Murray Bauman in the wild. Eddie and Steve get a little introspective and Steve does something rash.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

Their trip through the haunting and beautiful Ireland was amazing. So many tales and history. This is why Steve wanted to do more than just America like Eddie had originally wanted, because America just didn’t have the history Europe and other places did. Not unless you wanted to disturb actual First Nation people and that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost, thank you.

They were on the ferry from Northern Ireland to Scotland and Steve was looking out over his shoulder at the water as he leaned against the guardrail. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the wind to blow through his hair.

Eddie slid his arm around him and Steve laid his head on his shoulder.

Today Eddie had his beard and faux-dreadlocks in a light blue button up shirt and cream colored wide-legged pants. His chunky sunglasses covered the his face.

“You know,” Eddie murmured, “until we reached this leg of our journey and you started to disguise me, I didn’t realize how much I missed just being Eddie Munson, regular guy. I can really see the appeal of you and friends’ way of doing it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Of course it means that we can’t go all out and buy everything we want, stay in fancy hotels, show up at restaurants without a reservation and get in. But I can go into my local grocery store and buy two tubs of mint ice cream because I felt like it.” He lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Like some Karen would judge me, but it’s not going to go up on TMZ that I’m letting myself go.”

God, Eddie had had that happen more times than he cared to count. Like once Chrissy was on her period and he went to go get her chocolate, Ben and Jerry’s, and pads. Before he even got to his car it was all over the internet that he was letting himself go, just because it was 2am and his best friend needed something to help her feel better.

“You think you’ll ever come out?” he asked, pulling Steve in closer.

It was a familiar and well-worn topic of theirs; whether or not Steve would ever come out as bisexual at least.

He ducked his head and looked away. He didn’t know. He didn’t like hiding parts of himself for those he loved. He would like to tell people this is the love of my life.

“Would you leave me if I said no?” he mumbled, not daring to look up.

Eddie placed his finger under Steve’s chin and lifted his head gently. “Of course not, Stevie. There are literal actors who have been married for years and no one knows. It’s just between them. We could do that too. Just a quiet ceremony, Robin and Chrissy as the witnesses, and a justice of the peace.”

Steve let out a weak sort of watery laugh and shook his head. “I want all our friends there, famous and otherwise. I want a full tilt party with music playing into the early hours of the morning. I want fancy tuxes and flowers galore. I know I might not get that, the absolute coward that I am. But if I marry you, it be to scream from the rooftops that I love you.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “Softy.” Steve blushed. “Besides there is nothing in the world that says we can’t have it both ways. Have a quiet little ‘just us’ and then go full tilt when you come out. You don’t even have to tell anyone. Just a little comfort that I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie kissed him deeply and then tucked his head under his chin and they stayed like that until the ferry docked in Scotland.

~

God, Scotland and England were beautiful countries Eddie decided as he watched the rolling green hills from his train window. That was another thing he really liked about Europe in general, just all the different ways to travel that weren’t a car.

He looked over at Steve who had his glasses on and reading a book. He smiled at the title. His boyfriend wasn’t a fantasy fan or science fiction either, really, but put a clever mystery in his hands and you would have to pry to the book from his cold, dead fingers.

He glanced over at Chrissy and Robin who were playing Go Fish! They had asked him if he wanted to join them, but he passed. He rarely got time to just relax and watch the scenery go by when he was on tour. He was always doing something related to the band. Writing music, practicing, talking about the next venue, interview, or TV spot.

Him and his friends had fun, because of course they did. But it was nice to just let his mind wander. Currently he was sad that they were going to have to miss Wales this time. He really wanted to buy some Welsh gold jewelry. It’s super rare and absolutely gorgeous.

Maybe he would have to come back later and get something special for Steve. Just something simple like matching bands even if it wasn’t on the left hand. Or necklaces. Just something simple to prove they were it for each other.

“I made an appointment with a well-known tattoo artist in London,” Steve said nonchalant, but like he was reading Eddie’s thoughts.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to Steve. Robin nearly giving herself whiplash in her speed.

“As your friend, manager, and platonic soulmate,” she said darkly, “I advise against that. You can cover it up but someone, somewhere will see it.”

Steve looked up from his book and leveled her with his best bitchy glare. “Not if it’s on my ass.”

Chrissy and Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and they shared a shocked glance. Eddie always loved tattoos, he had a couple of stick and poke style ones from when he was young and stupid and couldn’t afford to pay for an artist to do the job, but there was one place, well technically two if you included his dick, which he absolutely did, that he refused to get a tattoo on and that was his ass. Not being able to sit down properly for what would probably be weeks was not his idea of a good time.

“Not really, though, right?” Chrissy asked with a grimace.

Steve took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Of course not really. Sheesh, you guys. But I hid fucking hickies from the both of you for a year and you never noticed, so I’m pretty sure I can hide one fucking tattoo.”

Robin and Chrissy shared their little ‘manager’ glance and Chrissy folded first.

“You’re right, Steve,” she said calmly. “Not once did you forget or slip up and you should be applauded for that. But is there a reason you’re deciding to get a tattoo now instead of waiting until we’re back in the States and you can use Eddie’s personal artist?”

He looked over at Robin and their little telepathy thing went off again and this time Robin folded first.

“It’s for Eddie,” she murmured. “They can’t be out as a couple and with Steve being the romantic that he is, wouldn’t want to get married without all his friends there, so this is his way of telling Eddie he isn’t going anywhere either.”

Eddie blinked for a moment. “Do you think they take walk-ins?”

“I booked it for both of us.” Steve smiled at him and took his hand. Eddie beamed back at him.

“They are so disgustingly cute,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms. “I bet Steve has this really sweet idea for a tattoo that even if people do notice it they won’t be able to tell the meaning but he and Eddie will know and be so sickeningly precious about it.”

Eddie gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. “I love my super clever boyfriend and can’t wait to see what this brilliant plan is.”

~

Steve’s brilliant plan was half of a white mask on Eddie’s inner wrist and half of guitar on Steve’s and when they held hands it formed almost heart.

The tattoo artist was really impressed with the idea and was more than happy to implement it. Steve walked out of there, completely smug as Chrissy pointed out. Deservedly so.

They were to stay in London for three days because of all the haunted places in London alone, there were so many worth visiting. They were going to start at Jack the Ripper tour and move onto the tour of London.

The tour they learned with deep dismay had accidentally been scheduled at 2pm and not 2am like Eddie had thought it said. It was so boring and their tour guide so dull, Eddie accidentally tripped of one of those concrete pillars they had in the middle of the sidewalk to prevent cars from driving up on it.

“Oof!” Eddie wheezed as he straightened up. “Why do they even put those things here?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” a nasally voice said from behind them. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”

They all turned slowly to see a weaselly little bald man with thick horn-rimmed glass.

“Holy shit,” Chrissy said slowly. “Murray Bauman, as I live and breath. What the hell are you doing in London?”

He shrugged. “Eking out a living doing tours for bored tourists. When the biggest metal band in the world drops you, so does everyone else.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a grimace. Corroded Coffin had deliberately did that to Nancy after the shit she pulled with Steve and trying to be The Fallen’s agent. But this one was a complete accident.

“Oh fuck off,” Robin said with a grin. “You love it. I can tell. You have actual notes written down, you have a map marked with all the spots the murders take place. I bet you have all the great stories.”

Murray flushed and cocked his head to the side. “I mean I didn’t want to brag. But yeah, certainly better than Molly over there.” He jutted his thumb at their tour guide. “Most of the good ones are from tour companies and then you get people like Molly who make it look legit online and trick people into taking day tours.”

“God, I was so bored,” Eddie huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I felt jet lagged.”

Murray’s eyes instantly narrowed and cocked his head to the side and instantly everyone else tensed up. He took in their reactions and mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “if you’re still in town tomorrow, meet me here at 9pm and I’ll give you a proper tour.”

Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “Or what?”

“Huh?” He was confused for a moment before he smacked his forehead. “Oh! No, no. I’m not going to blackmail you. Holy shit. If people want to enjoy a vacation without all the publicity, good on them.” He looked Eddie up and down. “Looks good on you kid.”

Eddie was suddenly glad for the large sunglasses and beard because it hid the blush on his cheeks.

“No, I’m just saying,” Murray continued, “that if you wanted to experience a proper Jack the Ripper tour, I’m willing to do it. I don’t have a tour currently booked and beside I like her.” He pointed at Robin, who grinned back him.

The four them all shared glances at each other.

“I’m down,” Steve said with a shrug. “If you’re as good as you say you are and aren’t trying to actively ‘get back’ at Chrissy for taking your job, I know I’d be interested in seeing what Whitechapel has to offer after dark.”

“I like him too,” Murray said brightly, rubbing his hands together. “So what do the rest of you say?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Steve’s three menaces said together.

He just smiled fondly and shook his head.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Tag List: CLOSED

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[itsabouttimex2]

I noticed that you write MK to be a teen, when most other people call him an adult. Any reason why?

I’m in general not a fan of the “Megapolis, in spite of being a fictional futuristic high-tech city, has laws that mirror modern day China one to one” theory that most people use to try and prove that “MK is ‘canonically’ an adult”.

Because MK is like… a genuine masterclass in how to write a character’s age in that there are so many signs pointing to teen or adult (and in some very few cases even a child, but only rarely), but never entirely confirming a single number.

Which is just… so good? Because any person of any age can see themselves in MK’s shoes, which makes him much easier to relate to?

And also in general I just hate the “my headcanon is canon because (thing that is not proof)” that people use to bludgeon down other headcanons.

MK is written to be age-ambiguous for a reason! The show is meant to appeal to teens, who exist from “thirteen-nineteen”, so he’s been given traits that could easily point in any which direction for his age.

(He’s also a character in a CHILDREN’S TOY COMMERCIAL. He literally exists to sell expensive plastic toys. Why are people so serious about him “needing” to be an adult?)

Like, yes, he lives alone…

On the second floor of a building owned by his adoptive father, not by himself out in the city away from his guardian. He’s also very bad at taking care of his place, even though it’s a single room. Like, tell me this doesn’t just look like an average teenager’s room. (He also owns a night-light shaped like Monkey King’s cloud.)

Yes, he works as a full-time delivery boy and drives around everywhere…

But Tang calls him a “growing boy” in the second episode, which isn’t the sort of thing you say to a full-grown adult.

He’s given lots of moments to be very adult in ways that are hard to read as “childish”, and childish in ways that are very hard to read as “adult”- BECAUSE HE’S DELIBERATELY MEANT TO EVOKE A VARIETY OF AGES SO THAT ANYONE CAN RELATE TO HIM.

(These two scenes in particular lean towards MK being very young, but it doesn’t mean he’s canonically young, you know? Just like driving and having a job don’t make him canonically an adult.)

So I write him as an age-ambiguous “teen” while never described where exactly he is on that spectrum of “thirteen-nineteen”, which I think is the best way to write an ambiguously-aged character- by leaving them ambiguous! Then he can be an adult or kid or teen in the mind of whoever is reading my fics.

Wow this was supposed to be short but it went a little longer than I expected.

Thank you for asking!