#( . remember you are not obligated to do this!

[vviolynn]

if you write a part 3 for jake’s, like a sequel, i will gladly appreciate it. i will adore it sm to the point that i will write down notes on parts that stand out to me that i wanna tell you about on my notes app then reblog about it afterwards. i want it so desperately their story is so addictive ughh <33 (but ofc if you’re too busy or don’t have motivation i’ll understand 💞❤️‼️)

btw i nearly forgot to mention how much i love your playlist. summer rain is such a beautiful song along with jellyfish(don’t think i forgot about the way and yes i saw you mention somi, i agree she gives mommy energy SODNSKDJ) OH AND I LOVE HAILEE STEINFIELD SO MUCH!! HER SONG FROM BUMBLEBEE IS SO GOOD 💞💞 and rebel hearts is stuck in my head all the time tooo!! and just a little commentary, if you decide to tweak it a little i’d recommend psycho by red velvet(ik it’s kinda overplayed but i feel like it fits jake and y/n’s vibe in terms of music and the vibe of the playlist too, especially the chorus with the echo and stuff!! but ofc in the end it’s up to youuu!!)

i hope that your night shift went okay and that you’re still getting rest ack!! and i’m so excited to read the soulmates au eekkk!! hopefully jungwon will be in there somewhere maybe? cause he’s my bias sodnsondid i hope you write him someday i’m sure you’d do so beautifully, but EVEN IF YOU DON’T I’LL LOVE AND READ EVERYTHING YOU WRITE OKAY REMEMBER THAT.

i’m so overwhelmed with my final exams coming up throughout may, but i think i’ll start rereading some of sunghoon’s pt 1 tonight, going back to baby bites since i don’t have as much free time as i used to </3

also i did see something once like a year ago on the importance of reblogging on tumblr and how it keeps this app alive and is the main characteristic of it, and i love commentary and yapping anyways so ofc i’m going to gladly oblige to do so when i reblog tehe!! 🤭❤️ i love giving you my reviews and commentary because i know you read it and the fact that you spoil us sm by putting it all out as soon as possible is such princess treatment ackkk i feel very undeserving of your beautiful writing 😔❤️ i can’t wait to get to finishing everything and commenting eeekkk(that’s so cuteeee i remember you mentioning her name being adele at some point, and it’s even cuter that she comments live on your google docs ackk cutieee!! i already love the concept of you two (whether platonic or real) <3)

thank you so much for always being so sweet and sharing your beautiful talent with the world <33 love you so much pattyyy!!! also did you tag me as a mutual?? I’M A MUTUAL?? wait i don’t remember tumblr saying you were my mutual… bUT EVEN IF WE’RE NOT ITS OKAY I’LL STILL KEEP FOLLOWING YOU AND DOING EVERYTHING THAT I DO DON’T FEEL PRESSURED TO FOLLOW ME BACK OKAY 💞💞

ILYSM TALK TO YOU SOON PATTY LOTS OF LOVE TO YOUUU <333

the truth untold ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

⭑.ᐟ Fake Dating - Sim Jaeyun Jake’s world takes a nosedive when he gets a wedding invitation from his high school ex—the same ex who cheated on him—with your ex. Desperate to avoid showing up alone Jake ropes you into a fake relationship, just for the evening. Originally. But if you’re going to sell the lie, you have to make it convincing. That means dates, inside jokes, learning the little details about each other that real couples would know. By the time the wedding arrives, neither of you are sure where the act ends and the truth begins.

ᝰ genre. Hockeyplayer! Jake, college sports , angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, suggestive, fake dating.ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, partying, consumption of weed, alcohol and nicotine, suggestive language & actions, shitty exes, strained family relations, mention of death, desciption of murder (Y/N is a anthropology student and works with dead bodies, but it's nothing detailed) PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYTHING .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 31.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ --⟢ PART 2

series masterlist ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ GET ADDED THE TAGLIST HERE ⁀➴༯ OR COMMENT 🏒

You dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment, your legs and shoulder aching under the weight of your uni bag and the bag of groceries you were carrying. You were regretting your gym session while you were on the bench press and now, after three back-to-back lectures and one surprise pop quiz later, you felt like a shell of a person.

When you reached the small cluster of mailboxes near your door, you let out a sigh. You haven’t looked into your mailbox for a few days and there were a ton of letters, most likely promotional flyers, peeking out of it. You fumbled with the key, twisted it open, and immediately regretted it. A flood of envelopes tumbled out, some landing on your sneakers, others scattering across the floor. “Of course,” you muttered under your breath, crouching to gather the mess. Flyers for pizza places you’d never try, glossy brochures for local gyms that clearly overestimated your interest in fitness. You flipped through the pile absentmindedly. You froze.

Your name, neatly scrawled in delicate cursive on an off-white envelope, stood out in the sea of junk mail. The paper was expensive, thick to the touch. You turned the envelope around, revealing a wax seal with two conjoined rings in the middle. A RSVP? You rattled your brain, thinking who might be getting married, but your mind came up with nothing.  Curiosity got the better of you, and you tore the envelope open. Inside, a golden-embossed wedding invitation practically sparkled under the streetlight. You scanned the details, and snorted. You are cordially invited to the wedding of Sophia Williams and Marcus Baker. We’d be honored to have you celebrate our special day.

Your ex-best friend. And your ex-boyfriend. Getting married. 

You snorted. “Special day, my ass,” you muttered, shoving the invitation back into the envelope. The nerve. There was no way you were going up at that shit show to play nice, as if the two of them didn’t break your heart in a million pieces. Whatever sick sense of closure they thought they were offering you, you weren't interested. There was no chance in hell you were going to that wedding. You put the letter back into its envelope and tossed it together with your junk mail into your bags continuing your way into your apartment. 

You were on your way to your Forensic Taphonomy class, when you spotted Jake sitting on one of the benches along the water fountain on the campus, his eyes closed while he enjoyed the early spring sun. You dropped down next to him on bench, startling him: “Hi Jake.” His head shoot into your direction and his eyes flew open. “Y/N!”, he said while putting a hand to his chest, “You just scared the shit out of me.”  You laughed and shook your head. “I am sorry Jake. Do you know what scared the shit out of me yesterday? Marcus and Sophias RSVP.” Jake gawked at you: “Their what?”

“Their RSVP. Those two are getting married and had the audacity to invite me. I don’t even know where they got my new address from.”, you shrugged, leaning back and closing your eyes. You didn’t get particularly much sunlight in the lab or the library, so every ray of sunshine had to be cherished.  “Oh shit. Are you going?”, Jake asked. “To the wedding of my ex best friends and my ex, who cheated on me with said best friend? Fuck no. I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than do that.”, you snorted, shaking your head.  Jake let out a low whistle, leaning back on the bench with a bitter smirk tugging at his lips. “Man, they’ve got some nerve.” You snorted, crossing your arms as you turned your head into his direction. “Right? Honestly, I thought I’d never have to see them again. But they apparently don’t share that opinion.” Jake shook his head, his jaw tightening. “Jesus christ. Why would they get married? You can’t tell me they really love each other.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “God. How were we ever in love with those two narcissistic assholes? We are too nice and pretty to have lost time and energy even talking to them.” Jake glanced over at you, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “We were young and naive. And we had to learn the hard way. But are you really not tempted to attend? Maybe dump red wine on Marcus’s tux for good measure?” The mental image made you laugh, but you quickly shook your head. “Nah, I don’t have the energy for that kind of drama. Plus, I’d probably just end up making a fool of myself. They’re not worth the effort.” Jake’s lips quivered in a half-smile, his bitterness softening just slightly. “Yeah. They’re really not.” The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, the sound of the fountain splashing in the background. Jake broke the silence. 

“You know, I always thought Sophia was smarter than this. Cheating with Marcus of all people? Like, come on. At least pick someone who doesn’t talk about himself in the third person.” You laughed, covering your mouth to stifle the sound. “Right? And Marcus was always so... ugh. He thought he was God’s gift to women. The fact that she fell for- not the fact that I fell for him is just–” You threw up your hands in mock exasperation. Jake smirked. “Don’t remind me. I still have nightmares about all the dumb shit he used to say. He was such an asshole to everyone.” “And yet here we are, left in the dust while they ride off into their happily-ever-after,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes. “Life’s funny like that.”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he glanced at you. “Funny isn’t the word I’d use, but yeah. Guess we’re stuck with the same shitty chapter in our history books.” You gave him a faint smile, the bitterness in his tone mirroring your own. “Well, I should probably get going,” you said, standing up and brushing off your pants. “Forensic Taphonomy waits for no one.” “Tapho-what?”, Jake asked.

Jake was toweling his hair dry, while walking into the kitchen of his dorm. Heeseung was basically sleeping with his eyes open while Jay was aggressively whipping eggs. Whatever he was cooking right now smelled heavenly. But Jake would eat anything right now. Practice had been brutal, and he was ready to collapse, but his stomach continuously made growling sounds that he couldn’t ignore.  He dropped down next to Heeseung, startling his captain awake. On the table in front of him was a pile of letters that someone had brought inside. His gaze narrowed at the fancy, embossed envelope propped against a stack of unopened mail. It wasn’t hard to guess who it was from. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he mutters, ripping open the golden waxseal.  For a moment, he just stared at it, blinking, trying to process the sheer audacity it must’ve taken to send him this. His jaw clenched, and the annoyance bubbled up fast. Who the hell invites both their exes to their wedding–the same people they cheated on to be together? 

“What’s up?”, Heeseung asked, resting his head on his hand. Jake tossed the letter on the table again, leaning back into the chair and signing exasperated. “Who the fuck invites both their exes to their wedding. They cheated on us. For fucks sake!”  “Who?”, Jay asked, turning around still whipping eggs.  “Sophia and Marcus are getting married. Y/N received her invitation yesterday and now,”, he gestured towards the letter, “they apparently thought it would be appropriate to invite me as well.” “What the fuck.”, Heeseung leaned forward to grab the letter. “Dear Jake. You are cordially invited to the wedding of Sophia Williams and Marcus Baker. We’d be honored to have you celebrate our special day.”

Jake pressed the palm of his hands into his eyes. “Cordially invited my ass.” Jay snorted, turning back to his pan but keeping an ear on the conversation. “That’s insane. Why would they even think you’d show up?” Jake let out a bitter laugh, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “Our families still have a lot to do with each other. My parents are still obsessed with Sophia. They used to invite her over for dinner even after we broke up. Didn’t even tell me until I ran into her at the house once.” He shook his head, rubbing his temple. “I’m almost positive my dad’s going to call me any second and gush about how I should be happy for her and how disappointed he is that it’s not me she is marrying.”

Heeseung’s jaw dropped. “They what? You’re kidding.” “I wish I was,” Jake muttered. “They’ve been close with her parents forever. Business stuff or whatever. My dad loved that she came from a ‘respectable’ family, you know? I could’ve been dating the queen of England and she still wouldn’t have measured up to Sophia in his eyes.” Jay slid a plate of egg fried rice onto the counter and turned to face them fully, arms crossed. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you have to go. You’re a grown-ass man, Jake. Just don’t show up. Screw your dad. You don’t owe him anything.” Jake huffed out a dry laugh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah, easier said than done. You know my dad, Jay. This wedding is going to be crawling with people he thinks are ‘important.’ You know how he is about appearances. If I don’t go, it’ll somehow be my fault for making the family look bad.”

Heeseung leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “But what about you, man? Doesn’t matter to him that this is…what’s the word? Oh, right. Humiliating. You’re just supposed to suck it up and show up all smiles?" “Probably,” Jake muttered, crossing his arms. “In his eyes, I probably deserved it. He’s already implied before that if Sophia cheated, it’s because I ‘let her slip through my fingers.’” Jay’s eyes widened in disbelief. “He actually said that?" Jake nodded grimly. “Yup. Every time I screw up, he brings it up. Like losing her was some monumental failure on my part. Honestly, he probably thinks that showing up to the wedding is a chance to redeem myself somehow." Heeseung shook his head, looking genuinely pissed on Jake’s behalf. “That’s messed up, man. Beyond messed up. You can’t let him keep controlling you like that.”

“What choice do I have?” Jake shot back, frustration lacing his voice. “If I don’t go, it’ll be endless guilt trips and lectures. And let’s not forget the part where my dad’s probably going to find a way to make it about how I’m an embarrassment to the family.” He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m telling you, I won’t have a choice. If my dad wants me there, I’ll have to go." Jay frowned, leaning against the counter. “So, what, you just show up and let them parade you around?” “I don’t know. Wait until my parents text me and then be the disappointment I am born to be I guess.”, Jake shrugged.

Jake was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, listening to his professors rambling over bananas and their ability to act as a payment agent? He was watching a reel recap of the top moments of their last game when he got the message he knew was going to come. His stomach tightened.

Dad:

You’ll be at the wedding. No excuses.

Jake gritted his teeth. Of course. 

Jake: I’m thinking about it.

He shoved the phone into his pocket, forcing himself to focus on the lecture. Bananas, yes. Economical life cycle. 

Rotting bananas no good for economical life cycle.

Oh god. What? 

His phone buzzed again.

Dad: Do you have any idea how bad it will look if you don’t show? The Kims have been family friends for years, and your absence would reflect poorly on all of us. Don’t let this turn into yet another disappointment.

Jake felt the heat rise to his face. The words “yet another disappointment” echoed in his head like a slap. He closed his notebook, muttered a quick apology to the professor, and slipped out of the classroom to take a breath.

Just as he reached the hallway, his phone started ringing. 

He took a deep breath and answered with a resigned, “Yes, Dad?”

The voice on the other end was sharp, controlled, and laced with cold authority. “Don’t give me that tone, Jaeyun.”

Jaeyun. Never Jake. Or son. Or anything else that would indicate that his father feels any positive emotion towards him. 

“You are coming to that wedding.”, his dad said in a voice that signaled he didn’t take no as an answer.

“I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal. Sophia cheated on me. Why the hell would I want to be at their wedding?”, Jake said, biting back his frustration. 

“Because it’s not about what you want,” his father snapped. “This is about appearances, Jake. About responsibility. This isn’t up for debate, Jake. You’re expected to be there. The whole family is going. Your brother is flying in from the States for this–it’s a family obligation. Sophia was-”

“Don’t,” Jake interrupted, his grip tightening on the phone. “Don’t start talking about how Sophia was perfect or how I screwed it up. She cheated on me, Dad.”

“And what does that say about you?” his father countered coldly.

Jake had to bite his tongue to stop himself from talking back. 

“You had her,” his father continued. “She was beautiful, smart, and from a good family. But somehow, you weren’t enough to keep her. Now she has found a husband from a respectable family and you are still bitter about it.”

Why can’t his dad just leave him alone? What did he care about Jake's love life? He already had his golden son, who was as good as married, worked in the company and did everything right. 

Jake ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I’m not going alone,” he said, the words tumbling out. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said I’m not going alone, if i am attending at all.” Jake repeated, his voice firmer this time.

There was a long, heavy pause on the other end of the line. 

“What’s her name?” his father asked, his tone even and clinical, like he was conducting a job interview.

Jake swallowed hard, realizing too late the corner he’d just backed himself into. He took a breath, bracing himself. “Y/N. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.” Y/N? Did he just utter your name? Fuck. 

Another pause. This one was longer, heavier.

“What’s her last name?” his dad finally asked, his tone quiet and deliberate.

Jake swallowed hard, wishing he could take back every word. 

“Y/N,” he said. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/L/N.” His father repeated the name slowly, almost like he was testing it. “I’ll assume she’s presentable. Background?”

Jake bristled. “She’s... a forensic anthropology student. Smart. Independent.”

“Hmm.” The sound was noncommittal, but Jake could sense the wheels turning. “Well, I’ll expect to meet her at the wedding.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Jake standing in the hallway, gripping his phone so tightly it felt like it might shatter.

Jake let his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. 

And what does that say about you?

As if Sophia’s cheating was some kind of personal failure on his part.

Sophia was the picture perfect girlfriend his dad expected him to have. She was fairly pretty, clever, came from a family just as well-connected as theirs. Jake had never really felt butterflies. Not with Sophia. Not with anyone afterwards. 

Their whole relationship was build on public image, on convenience, on the unspoken understanding that they would look good together.

Sophia was in a similar position as Jake. If his dad would have known about half the stuff she did he would have never been this delighted when he told him he was dating her. She was partying more than she was studying, being bad influence for all of her friends. And her father had enough and told her that there would be some serious consequences for her if she didn’t step down. And her dad approved of him. So she approached him first.

She was all of his firsts, though. His first kiss, his first time, his first real relationship. 

But connection? Love? He never had that with Sophia. He tried to. Tried to tell himself he loved her, thought he loved her. But thinking back at it he probably never did. That didn’t mean her cheating didn’t hurt less. He and Sophia still had their moments and she was one of his most trusted persons, she knew almost everything about him and he knew a lot of things about her.  

Jake still remembered the day he found out about Sophia cheating on him. He wasn’t the one who uncovered the truth. You were.

He remembered being confused when you stood in his hallway looking lost, your face tear streaked. How you barely breathed his name before saying, Jake, I need to tell you something.

You told him how Sophia came clean to you, how she told you that she had slept with your boyfriend, how she was in love with him and how she didnt want this to ruin your friendship. 

He hadn’t believed you at first. He didn’t want to. But he also knew you wouldn’t lie about something like that. He didn’t really know you all too well, but he knew you well enough to know that you probably really loved Marcus, no matter what kind of douchebag he was and that it really hurt you. Scratch that. You were devastated. He was a year above you but your paths did cross quite frequently in school. You didn’t attend school for almost two weeks and when you came back you looked so sad. His heart ached every time he saw you. 

A day after you told him what happened he confronted Sophia.

She hadn’t even really tried to deny it. Instead, she had just sighed, almost exasperated, and told him that they both knew they were never real in the first place. That for her at least this was all show, that they looked good together, that their families approved. That she was sorry if he really felt like he was in love with her.

Jake had ended things immediately. He was more heart broken over the whole thing than he though he would be and when he turned to his parents he didn’t really get the reassurance he had hoped for. His father, of course, had been disappointed–not because Jake had been cheated on, but because he had lost Sophia. His mom however did her best to help him get over Sophia and suddenly they were eating galbitang three times a week. 

And now, Sophia was getting married to someone “respectable,” while Jake was still the disappointment.

He let out a bitter chuckle, running a hand through his hair. He shouldn’t have answered his father’s call. 

Now, on top of everything else, he had to figure out how to convince you to go to this damn wedding and pretend to be his girlfriend.

What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. Everything went wrong.

First, he realized that the number you used in Australia was obviously not the one you were using in Korea now. Then, he realized that he didn’t follow you on Instagram anymore. After an embarrassingly long debate with himself, he finally sent a follow request, which you accepted a few hours later. Great. Progress.

Except now he had to actually message you.

“Hi Y/N. I kinda lied to my dad and now he thinks you’re my girlfriend. You kinda have to attend my ex’s wedding with me. I’m so sorry. But it would embarrass me, and my dad would murder me if you said no. Please go with me. Thank you. Bye :)”

No. Absolutely not. He deleted it before he could even consider pressing send. Another draft followed. Then another. Then another. Each one somehow worse than the last.

In the end, he gave up dming you entirely. This was a conversation he had to have face to face. 

Maybe he could catch you on campus? Except he didn’t know your timetable, your lab, or even which building your classes were in. The more he thought about it, the worse it got. 

So now here he was, sitting on the stairs in front of one of the medical buildings, praying to whoever might be listening that you’d pass by. He thought your classes were in this area—wasn’t your major technically part of the medical school? Oh, God. What was he doing? And for what? To impress his father? His father, of all people?

Jake exhaled sharply, dragging his hands down his face. He was such an idiot.

Then, as if the universe decided to throw him a bone, he spotted you.

You were walking briskly across the courtyard, a bag slung over your shoulder, earbuds in. Jake shot to his feet. “Y/N!”

You didn’t hear him. He cursed under his breath, jogging a few steps before calling out again, louder this time. “Y/N! Do you have five minutes?”

You looked up, squinting slightly, and then frowned when you recognized him. “Jake? What are you doing here?” He jogged a few steps to meet you before you could brush past him. “Hey, do you have five minutes?”

You checked your watch and shot him a skeptical look. “Not really. I’m heading to class. What’s up?”

He opened his mouth, but instead of starting with the careful, logical explanation he’d rehearsed in his head, it all came out in a breathless, panicked rush.

“So,Ikindofliedtomydadyesterdayandnowhethinksyou’remygirlfriend.” He took a breath,

“and it’s this whole thing because he’s forcing me to go to Sophia and Marcus’s wedding, and I panicked, and I said I wasn’t going alone, and then he kept asking questions, and I said your name, and now—” He took another breath and continued, slower this time. 

“And now he thinks we’re dating, and I really need you to come to this wedding with me because if I show up alone, he’s going to make my life hell. And also, I might die. Not literally, but close.”

You blinked.

Then, slowly, you pushed your phone into your bag and crossed your arms. You narrowed your eyes. “What the fuck, Jake?”

Jake winced, realizing how ridiculous it all sounded. “Uh, yeah. So I lied to my dad. About us. And now he thinks we’re dating.”

You lowered your bag, letting it dangle in one hand, and crossed your arms. “Jake. Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” He looked at you, wide-eyed and sheepish. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I had no one else to turn to. You’re the only person who gets how screwed up this wedding thing is. And technically you are already invited. So it wouldn’t be weird if we got there together? Except that you would have to kinda pretend to love me and shit.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head in disbelief. “Oh my god. Okay. Fine. Forget class—now I have five minutes. What the actual fuck, Jake?”

“I panicked!” he said defensively. “He was going off about how embarrassing it would be if I showed up alone, and how I’m not married, and how I don’t have a girlfriend, and how my life’s a failure compared to my brother’s—so I panicked, and I said I was bringing you.”

You blinked at him, your arms crossing tightly over your chest. “So you told him I am your girlfriend. And you’re bringing me?”

“Yes.” He winced, looking at the ground. “I know it’s insane, but hear me out.”

“There’s no way I’m going to that wedding, Jake,” you said flatly. “Absolutely not.”

“Look, I get it. I don’t want to go either. But think about it.” He gestured between the two of you. “We’ll both have someone to lean on at the wedding, no awkward moments alone, and it’ll keep my dad off my back. It’s a win-win.”

You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “Win-win? What do I get out of this?”

“Anything you want,” Jake said quickly, his desperation shining through. “I’ll owe you, big time. Name it, and I’ll do it.”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Jake. This is ridiculous. You’re literally asking me to be your girlfriend for a weekend to impress your father.”

“I know,” he said, his tone softer now. “But I swear, it won’t be as bad as you think. We’ll go, we’ll stick together, and then we’re out. You can even make fun of Marcus and Sophia the whole time.”

You sighed, clearly conflicted. “Jake… I really don’t want to go to that wedding.”

“Please,” he said, clasping his hands together like he was praying. “Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

Please Y/N. Please, please, please, please. 

You looked at him for a long moment, then sighed again. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything.”

“Fair,” Jake said, relief washing over him. “That’s all I ask.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for class.”

“Right, sorry.” He stepped aside, smiling sheepishly. “Thanks, Y/N. Seriously.”

You stared at the wedding invitation sitting on your desk. The idea of going to that wedding was so ridiculous. You weren’t about to subject yourself to that humiliation.

But as much as you hated the idea of being anywhere near Marcus and Sophia, there was a part of you that missed your old friend group. All of you went different paths, to different unis and countries and you were sure that they were all invited and would attend the wedding. 

Jake’s desperate proposal kept replaying in your head. The idea of showing up together wasn’t the worst. If anything, it’d probably make things easier. At least you had someone in your corner that wasn’t your dad or your mom. Jake was fun, charming and good looking and spending the evening together might even be fun. And you knew that Marcus resented Jake, deeply. He would probably not like seeing the two of you together. 

That thought alone gave you a sick kind of satisfaction.

You were sitting at a table near the ice rink, your biology notes spread out in front of you. It wasn’t the most ideal study spot, but you knew that Jake had to walk by here after practice, and you didn’t feel like chasing him down across campus. You could have sent him a message, but talking to your future fake-boyfriend about your future fake-relationship seemed more appropriate then texting back and forth.

You pretended to focus on your notes, but your mind kept drifting back to Jake. Objectively, he was attractive—annoyingly so, in fact. And while you weren’t particularly close, you’d only ever heard good things about him from mutual friends and well… Sophia.

Honestly? If you had to fake-date someone, he wasn’t the worst candidate.

You were just beginning to lose feeling in your toes when you spotted him. He was walking down the path, hockey gear slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp from the shower.

“Jake!” You stood up and waved, catching his attention.

He blinked at you, surprised, but adjusted course and made his way over. “Y/N. Hi.”

“Let’s do it.”

Jake frowned. “What?”

“Let’s go to that godforsaken wedding together.”

His brows shot up. He dropped his bag on the ground and sat down beside you, still looking skeptical. “You’re kidding. You really want to do this?”

“Want?” You scoffed. “No. But it seems like you don’t have much of a choice, and I sure as hell don’t want to give those two the satisfaction of thinking I care.”

Jake leaned back and exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. “Thank you Y/N. You are saving me from being ridiculed by the asshole I call father.”

You laughed and shook your head. “No worries. I’ll probably regret it, but whatever.”

“I think i have to warn you about my dad though.”, Jake turned to you. 

You raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“He probably thinks I lied, which I kinda did. He won’t believe us if we don’t seem disgustingly in love.” 

“Oh, shit,” you muttered. 

Jake nodded, tilting his head toward you. “Yeah.”

“How exactly do you want to do this then Sim? I am not really a good actor. I can hold your hand but being all lovey dovey? I doubt it.”, you sighed, rubbing your temples.

You were itching to light a cigarette. You couldn’t believe this is actually happening. This is insane. Absolutely insane. Your hand instinctively moves toward your pocket, fingers brushing against the crumpled pack of cigarettes. Just one. To calm your nerves. 

“I don’t really know. I haven’t actually thought that far to be honest.”, his shoulder sacked down.

“Well I have watched and read enough about fake dating that I know that we should at least, you know, get to know each other a bit. Like I know you are a nerd and you play hockey? Which is probably not enough to seem convincing.”, you shrugged.

You glance at Jake out of the corner of your eye, trying to gauge his reaction. Does he even realize how ridiculous this is?

“I am not a nerd.”, Jake protested. 

“Do you still collect Lego?”, you deadpanned.

“I-Yes-But- Yeah I do but it doesn’t make me a nerd.”, he sputtered and shook his head, a few water drops from his hair hit your face.

“Mhm. Sure. Whatever you think Jakeyboy.”, you hummed and grinned at him. 

He huffed and leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his body. “So what do you wanna do?”

“To get to know each other?”, you asked, playing with the end of your scarf. “ I guess we should spend time together. And we should definitely work out some kind of like I don't know, timeline for when and how we met an shit.” 

“Well,” Jake started, drumming his fingers against the table, “okay. We met on campus, obviously. We got closer through mutual friends.”

You exhaled through your nose, thinking. “Who’s supposed to be our mutual friend?”

He thought for a second before saying, “Jay. He’s probably the only one who’d actually go along with this bullshit if anyone asks. And I mean Sophia? We did hang out back in highschool.” 

You nodded. “True. And as for how long we’ve been dating?”

Jake shrugged. “What’s a believable timeline?”

“Three months?”

“The wedding is in three months.”

“Right.” You frowned. “Five months, then.”

“Five months is good.”, he ran a hand over his face, exhaling. “My dad is going to ask a lot more questions than that tho. He’s also going to be watching us like a hawk. What is stuff you are okay with doing and what not?”

You took a moment to think about it. You haven’t really had the time to think about dating since you broke up with Marcus. Graduating and your classes didn’t really grant you much free time so you pushed the thought of dating aside. Marcus was your first in everything and you haven’t really had the desire to kiss anyone after him but kissing Jake didn’t seem like the worst thing to do. Sophia always gushed over him being a very good kisser and well frankly being very good in bed. You probably knew more about Jake's sex life than he would like you to know.

“I don’t really care honestly. I don’t really feel like making out with you in front of your dad to convince him. If the situation requires it, a normal kiss is fine. Only if you are clean though.”, you shrugged. 

He tilted his head. “Requires it?”

You shrugged again. “What if someone calls bullshit?”

He hummed and nodded. 

“Could you do me a favour?”, he asked after a beat of silence. 

You raised your eyebrows. “A bigger one than this already is?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Could you, you know, like not tell your friends that we are doing this? It’s already embarrassing enough that I can’t really pull someone and have to bring a fake date, I really don’t want to give my friends ammunition to make fun of me.”

You wrinkled your nose. “So you want me to lie to my friends?”

He exhaled through his nose. “No. Yes? Kinda? I mean, I guess, we are going to meet up quite frequently now to get to know each other? All platonic of course. So like you could just tell them, that we started talking after we got the invites, which is not wrong and we are now just befriending each other, which also is not going to be a lie. Just don’t tell them about the fake dating to the wedding.” 

You signed, leaning against the backrest of the bench. Chaewon and Yujin would never shut up about you fake dating Jake Sim and would most definitely make fun of him. And probably you. You were in the same situation after all. Single and invited to your cheating exes wedding. You were done and over with Marcus. Yes he broke your heart and you were devastated but in hindsight he was such a horrible partner that all the pain in your heart turned into anger and resentment. Same went for Sophia, all the bad decisions you made in highschool were an accumulation of them being just horrible friends.

After a pause, you nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”, Jake asked, turning towards you, his face hopeful.

“Okay. I won’t tell them.”, you signed, “What kind of platonic frequent meetings did you have in mind? Not gonna lie, my classes take up a big chunk of my free time. I feel like I am more in the lab and the library or a random classroom than my own home.”

“I could come study with you! I definitely should also get back on track.”, he beamed at you.

You nodded and hummed, already dreading the time you will lose while you were talking to Jake, but whatever.

He leaned in closer, resting his elbow on the table as he watched you with an exaggerated doe-eyed look. “We should probably get more comfortable with touching. Hand-holding, hugging… you know, typical couple stuff in front of the others. I tend to be quite clingy when i like someone.”, he said, his voice dropping playfully.

Without missing a beat you shoved his face away.

Jake laughed, leaning back. “I’m just saying, if you ever want to hold my hand, Y/N, you just have to ask.”

You deadpanned. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jake smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “So, deal?”

You sighed, but there was a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Deal.”

The two of you sat in silence for a second, thinking about what you were about to do. God you really needed a smoke now.

Jake drummed his fingers against the table, glancing at you. “So… you got any plans for the rest of the evening?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “figured, we might as well get a head start.”

You considered it for a second. “What are you suggesting?”

“Fried chicken?” he offered, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

You huffed a quiet laugh. “An incredibly romantic first date.”

“Right? Thought I’d go all out,” Jake deadpanned, waiting for you to gather your things.

You shook your head but shoved your notes into your bag anyway. “Fine. You’re paying.”

“Of course. I am a gentleman Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, falling into step beside him.

The place Jake picked was small, tucked between a laundromat and a convenience store, but it smelled amazing. Jake led the way to a booth near the window, sliding in across from you as he grabbed a menu.

“You’ve been here before?” you asked, scanning the options.

“Yeah,” Jake nodded. “We come here after games sometimes.”

You hummed, then glanced up at him. “So. Where do we start?”

Jake smirked, setting the menu down. “The basics, I guess. Favorite color?”

You gave him a blank stare. “Seriously?”

“What? Gotta start somewhere.”

You sighed. “Fine. Yellow.”

Jake nodded. “Nice. Mine’s blue.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Alright, Jakey. What else do I need to know about you?”

He thought for a second before saying, “I have an older brother. He’s working for my dads company in the States right now and he has been engaged since christmas. My parents. Well, you already know my dad is an absolute hard-ass. My mom’s a lot more chill, she honestly is great. Oh and we have a dog. Her name is Layla.”

You knew his dad was an asshole. Sophia told you as much back in highschool. From your experience you concluded that rich old business men were rarely nice persons. “Do they expect you to go pro?”

Jake hesitated, then shrugged. “No. I mean yeah? Kinda? My mom is very supportive and my dad thinks hockey is just a hobby and that I should focus on my studies.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Is he the reason why you didn’t go into physics? Back when we were in Highschool you loved it. I always wondered why you are in econ now.”

Jake hesitated, his grin fading. “Yeah. He’s… big on appearances. He wants me to follow in his footsteps, and go into the family business. Physics didn’t fit the mold, so here I am.”

“That’s… awful,” you said softly. You couldn’t imagine your parents holding you back from your passion. Your mom and dad were honestly gifts from the gods and you had a great childhood. You were still very close to both of them. 

Jake shrugged again, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “It’s whatever. What about you? Why forensic anthropology?”

You smiled, relaxing a little. “My parents are both doctors - surgeon dad, ER mom. Growing up, I thought medicine was the coolest thing ever, but I also didn’t want to deal with people.”

Jake chuckled. “That tracks.”

“Then I got obsessed with bones,” you continued, your smile widening. “The show, not like actual Bones and eventually, I realized I could study the same thing the main character studied, and here we are.”

Jake tilted his head, looking genuinely impressed. “That’s actually pretty cool.”

“It is,” you said, a hint of pride in your voice. “But it’s a lot of work. Lab hours, endless classes, late nights. I spend more time with composing bodies than living ones.”

Jake made a face. “Great. Can’t wait for that to come up in conversation at the wedding.”

“Oh, it will,” you grinned. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You leaned back in your seat, stretching your legs out under the table. “Alright. So tell me stuff about hockey. I am sure that will come up since you do love it.”

Jake perked up slightly, his fingers still idly picking at his fries. “Do you know anything about hockey already?”

“I know you hit a puck with a stick and sometimes punch people,” you said, tilting your head. “That about sums it up, right?”

Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s like saying surgery is just cutting people open.”

You smirked. “Well, am I wrong?”

Jake shook his head but laughed. “Okay, fine. What do you want to know?”

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “I don’t know. Why do you like it?”

That seemed to catch him off guard. He blinked, then looked down at his hands for a second, like he was trying to put words to a feeling. “It’s… freeing, I guess. When you’re on the ice, everything else disappears. It’s just you, the puck, the team. You don’t have time to think about anything else.”

You nodded, watching the way his face softened as he spoke. “That sounds nice.”

Jake glanced up at you, a little surprised. “Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The diner around you buzzed with quiet conversation, the occasional clang from the kitchen. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Then you nudged his foot under the table. “So, are you good?”

Jake scoffed. “Am I good?”

“Well, yeah,” you grinned. “Like do you sit on the bench? Is that a thing? Do you play a lot? I wouldn’t know.”

Jake leaned back, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “Wow. That hurts.”

You laughed. “I’m just saying.”

“I’ll have you know,” Jake said, pointing a fry at you, “I’m actually really good. Top scorer on the team, even.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Impressive.”

Jake smirked, looking smug. “Damn right.”

You took another sip of your drink, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him. “You know, it’s weird actually talking to you like this.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, reaching for another fry. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you gestured vaguely, “back in high school, we were always around each other, but we never really talked. You were just Sophia’s boyfriend. And I was Sophia’s best friend. It’s like we existed in the same space but never actually interacted unless she forced us to.”

Jake let out a short laugh, nodding. “Yeah. You know, she used to make me come to movie nights with you? Even though I had zero reason to be there?”

“Oh, I remember,” you smirked. “You’d sit there pretending to pay attention, and then the second Sophia looked away, you’d be on your phone playing clash of clans.”

Jake grinned. “Hey, in my defense, your romcoms weren’t exactly exciting and I had a lot of energy as a teenager. You also always complained that you should be studying instead of watching movies.”

You shook your head with a laugh. “I mean not all of us had that sports scholarship as a back up plan. Some people had to actually study and be good in classes.”

Jake snorted. “Yeah, joke’s on me. Turns out, my dad never wanted that future for me anyway.”

That made you pause. You studied him for a moment, catching the way his expression flickered before he masked it with a casual shrug. “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “I always thought I would study together with Marcus, him being able to tutor me and shit. Then he cheated and then I went into Anthro instead of business. I guess neither of us ended up exactly where we thought we’d be.”

Jake looked at you then, something unreadable in his gaze. “Yeah. Guess not.”

The moment passed quickly, and he grabbed a fry from your plate, tossing it in his mouth. “But, hey, at least now I get to go on a fake date with my ex’s best friend. That’s a plot twist I never saw coming.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah, well. Life’s funny like that.”

You’ve been in the library for two hours, slumped over your case notes, fingers rubbing at your eyes as you try to focus. Nothing makes sense. The forensic pathology case you're working on has a bunch of conflicting details, and no matter how much you dig through the information your teammates collected, you're not getting anywhere. The injuries don’t align with the victim’s position, and the more you try to piece it together, the more frustrating it becomes. You let out a long sigh, your frustration practically radiating from you as you sit back in your chair, staring blankly at the wall in front of you, when the door to your study room clicked open and Jake poked his head into the room. 

“Here you are!”, he entered the room. 

“Hi Jake.”, you signed and turned your head towards him. 

“Still at it?” he asked, setting his bag down and taking a seat at the table across from you. He had asked you the day before if you were free for a platonic getting-to-know-each-other-to-seem-convincing-date, and you had to tell him no since you had to study. You were making little to no progress with a body you and a group of four others were tasked with, so you were stuck in the lab or the library until the deadline on Friday.

“Yeah,” you answered, rubbing your eyes again. “This case is just... I don’t even know anymore. None of the injuries make sense. I keep going over the information, and it’s like nothing fits.”

Jake gave a small nod, pulling out a laptop and carefully putting your notes to the side. “Sounds rough. Did you find anything new on the body today?”

You gave him a dry look. “Do I look like we found anything new, Jakey?”

He chuckled at your misery and fell into his studying routine, the occasional click of his pen filling the silence as you went back to your case notes. You both tried to focus, but the silence only helped you spiral further into frustration. The puzzle pieces just wouldn’t connect, and you felt like you were running in circles.

Finally, you slammed the file down in front of you with a groan. “Ugh! I can’t do this anymore!” you muttered. “I’ve been staring at these same injuries for an hour, and they just—nothing makes sense! I can’t figure out how the stab wound angles align with the body position.”

Jake glanced over, then leaned back in his chair, making a thoughtful face. “The victim’s injuries don’t match up with how you think the crime happened?”

“Yeah!” you said, looking at him desperately. “Like, there’s a stab wound here, but the victim was lying in a completely different position than the one that would’ve caused it. And the other injuries don’t line up either.”

Jake didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at the case file as though he were mulling it over. “Have you tried acting it out?”

You shot him an confused look. “You want me to act out a murder?”

“Why not?” Jake grinned. “It’s not like anyone else is here to witness it, and it could help you get out of your head.”

For a second, you were too tired to even protest, and the absurdity of it actually made you laugh. You shook your head. “Okay, fine. Let’s pretend we’re the victim and the killer, then.”

Jake immediately stood up, fully committing to the role. “I’m the victim. I’ll be... right here,” he said, dramatically flopping down on one of the chairs. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at how seriously he was taking this. “Okay, I’m the killer. What am I supposed to do here?”

“Try stabbing me,” Jake said, rolling his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m waiting to be murdered.”

You hesitated, then walked over to where he was lying. “Alright, so I stab you here?” you said, positioning your pen as if it were a knife, looking back at your notes. Jake was actually not lying in the right position, so you adjusted the way he was slouching on the chair slightly.

“And now,” Jake flopped his head back dramatically, “try getting your position right. That’s important as well, right?”

You paused. “Wait a minute,” You turned back to your notes. “What if the position doesn’t even matter? What if the injuries happened at different times? What if the killer was trying to cover up the first stab wound by causing more damage? Oh my god that would explain why this– oh my god i can’t believe i am this stupid. I even put it down as perimortal.”

Jake stopped in his act, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Huh. So the victim didn’t just get stabbed once?”

You shook your head. “No, he has like 15 or 16 wounds, all made by the same knife… but maybe at different points in time. The first wound has to have happened somewhere else. The injuries don’t add up because they weren’t caused all at once. Those were made to cover up the initial cause of death, because the big knife is probably traceable.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly. “Okay?”

It was like the entire case had just clicked into place, and it was all because you had let yourself stop overthinking it for a second. How could you have not thought about that? This was so obvious. Maybe studying with Jake wasn’t as much as a waste of time as you thought.

“Okay, wait,” you said, settling back in your seat, scrolling through your notes until you found the pictures of the stab wounds you had taken earlier that day and turned them toward Jake.

“Look here,” you pointed at a particular dent in the bones. “This is the cause of death. And the rest of the cuts in the ribcage bones are from a different angle and way weaker, most likely made with a different knife. So the body was probably moved, and the killer or maybe another person did the rest of the damage.”

Jake nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Damn, look at me. Maybe I should also go into forensics. I think we make a pretty good team. We could clear cases together.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure, Jakey. If you wanna look at some more gruesome bodies and have the smell of death linger around you, let’s go.”

He scrunched his nose. “On second thought, I think I would rather stay with Econ.”

You shook your head and giggled.

After finally giving your brain a break, you and Jake packed up your things and left the library. You stepped outside, stretching your arms above your head and your back made a satisfying cracking noise. Without thinking too much about it, you reached into your pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it.

Jake, who had been rummaging through his bag for something, glanced up. His movements stilled when he saw the cigarette between your fingers.

He blinked once. Then twice.

“What,” he said flatly, like his brain was still buffering, “the hell are you doing?”

You exhaled, letting the smoke curl into the air. “Smoking?”

Jake just stared at you, completely thrown. “You—” He cut himself off, eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. “Since when do you smoke?”

You shrugged. “For a while now.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “You study forensic pathology. You literally just spent hours complaining about injuries and cause of death, and you still–”

Before you could react, he reached out and plucked the cigarette right from your fingers.

“Seriously, Y/N. This is bad for you.”

You blinked at him, caught between annoyance and amusement. “Jake, give it back.”

“Nope.”

“Jake.”

“I’m not letting you poison yourself,” he said, holding the cigarette out of reach like you were a child he was scolding.

“Yah!” You frowned, moving to take it back, but Jake just held it out of reach, his expression now shifting to full-on disapproval.

“You, of all people, should know what these do to the body,” he scolded. “How are you in forensics and still put this shit in your lungs?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I chain-smoke every day.”

Jake scoffed again, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, great. I’ll tell your lungs that so they feel better.” And with that, he crushed the cigarette between his underneath his shoe before tossing it into a nearby trash bin.

You stared at him, half annoyed, half amused. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he echoed, still giving you that disappointed look. “You study dead bodies all day. What part of that made you think, ‘Hm, yeah, let me shorten my own lifespan’?”

You sighed, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Didn’t know you cared so much, Jakey.”

He ran a hand through his hair, still looking exasperated. “I just think it’s stupid.”

You huffed but didn’t argue. You knew he was right. Smoking was a bad habit you picked up thanks to Marcus and you weren’t able to shake it off until now.

After a moment, Jake let out a breath, as if shaking off his irritation, and nudged your shoulder lightly. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat. I am starving.”

“You know, we should make this a regular thing.”, you said looking at Jake while taking a sip of your iced tea and scrunching your nose. 

“What do you mean?”, Jake watched as you opened a packet of sugar, dumping the entire thing in your ice tea.

“Going to cafes.”, you shrug, “There are so many cute cafes here and I have a list of them to try out but i never got around to try them all. Maybe we could make this our thing? Going to a new cafe every week?” 

Its been a little bit more than three weeks since you and Jake first started to spend time with each other and he had to say it was surprisingly nice to hang out with you. His schedule was packed with practice and games while you were studying a lot. He sometimes thought that you spend a bit too much time in the library or the lab but he also knew that it was your main place to socialize with your squint friends. So he was happy to get you out of there on occasion.

Jake didn’t even think about it when he slid his latte across the table and took your lemon iced tea in return. During the last few times you’ve been out to grab food or drinks he noticed that you like to be a bit experimental with your orders. Asking the waiters for their favourites or Jake if he thought a particular drink would taste well. He took one sip and immediately winced at how absurdly sour your drink of today was.

You blinked at him, looking between the drinks. “Did you just–”

“You clearly hate that,” he said, nodding toward the lemon tea. “And you put so much sugar in your drinks, you might as well have ordered something else entirely.”

Your lips parted in surprise before you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, damn. Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

Jake just smirked, taking another sip of your tea suffering from the sourness while you happily drank his latte.

“I think that's a great idea.”, he then answered your question from before. “The weekly cafe thing. I mean it would definitely help with the whole building up a real connection and getting to know each other better.” He honestly was looking forward to meeting you every time you scheduled one of your getting-to-know-each-other-to-seem-convincing-dates. There have been 4 so far, but you had been texting quite frequently in between. Him asking how your classes were and you asking how training or his games went. He was pretty pleased with himself when you told him that you got an A thanks to his participation as a dummy victim in the library and you brought him a piece of cake as thank you when you met a few days later. 

You hummed in agreement, stirring your (his) iced latte. For a while, you both sat in comfortable silence, the occasional sound of a spoon clinking against a glass filling the space between words. 

You broke the silence and leaned forward slightly. “Do you like it here?”

Jake glanced up at you. “Korea?”

You nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, swirling his straw around his glass, trying to mix the sugar into the ice tea in hopes that it toned down the sourness. “I mean, I miss Australia sometimes, but I like it here. The city, the people.”

You hummed. “Same. I miss home sometimes, but I like being in Seoul. It’s nice having a fresh start, you know?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah. Plus, I love living with my roommates. Heeseung is a menace, and Jay’s the closest thing we have to a responsible adult. Their girlfriends—or well, Heeseung’s girlfriend and Jay’s almost-girlfriend—are also fun to be around. I think you’d like them.”

You smiled. “They sound fun.”

“They are.”

“I am sure you would like Chaewon and Yujin as well.” you said, sipping your (his) drink. “We met in first year, and they kind of adopted me. Took pity on me looking lost on my first day. I was really young when I started university, thinking back at it now.”

Jake raised a brow. “How old?”

“Seventeen.”

 “Oh yeah?”, Jake tried to think of a seventeen year old you. 

He remembered always thinking you were pretty cute in your school uniform—always so put together, always so proper. While he and Sophia were constantly scolded for their messy ties and rolled-up skirts, you were the picture of perfection, your blazer buttoned just right, your hair neatly pinned back. Even now, years later, you still dressed like that. Thoughtful, elegant, always intentional. Now, as he stood there, watching you fidget with the hem of your coat, he couldn’t help but smile. You were still the same person you’d always been, meticulous, thoughtful, a little bit nerdy.

“Mhm.” Your gaze drifted toward a small pond near the café’s patio, where a few kids were jumping around in front of it.

“You still are young, Y/N,” he said, following your gaze. “Get to my age, and then let’s talk about that again.”

You snorted. “You are like a year older than me. Probably less. My birthday is coming up soon.”

“Oh? When?”

“In like five weeks?”, you took another sip of his latte.

Jake’s lips twitched. “Are you gonna throw a party?”

“Probably not. I’d much rather go to parties than have to clean up the mess.”

He chuckled. “Fair.” 

He would have eaten a broom if you would have said yes. You never really one for big parties, but still attend every time. Most of the time he found you and Sophia smoking outside with Marcus and his friends. That idiot had such a bad influence on you and he hated seeing it back then. Marcus was a year older than Jake and therefore almost two years older than you and he pretended to be a bad boy. Which was cringe on its own but he tried to convince you that being a bit more rebellious was cool. It annoyed him back then so much he made it his mission to talk to you and get you away from your boyfriend and his friends, when he got the chance. Mhm maybe he did spend a bit more time than he initially remembered with you. He never understood what you saw in Marcus. 

“Are you going to the spring break party next week? The girls and I are planning to go.”, you interrupted his thoughts.

“I don’t know yet. We’re playing a game that day and the day before. I’ll probably be dead tired,” he admitted, stealing a piece of your cake.

You tapped your finger against your glass, then glanced up at him. “You should come.”

Jake raised a brow. “You want me to crash girls’ night?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, idiot. It’s not really girls’ night if we attend a frat party, but I think it would be nice to see you there. I kinda wanna see how adult Jake parties. You were fun back in highschool, even though you scolded Sophia and me for being dumb shits every five minutes.”

Jake studied you for a second before a slow, amused grin pulled at his lips.

 “You want me to scold you again? I will if I catch you smoking.”

“I am fully aware of my deathly habit of inhaling nicotine and I am committing to the bit so hush. Also now I am a legal adult who can buy their own cigarettes.”

Just then a gust of wind brushed past, prompting you to tug your jacket tighter around yourself. As you adjusted, your bag tipped slightly, and your phone and  a pack of cigarettes clattered onto the table.

Jake’s gaze flickered down to them, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly while you put both back into your bag and put the bag onto the floor.

Jake exhaled, raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.” After that it was silent for a moment, just the sound of the children playing in the park and the birds chirping up in the trees .

“You know,” he said, his voice breaking the silence, “you still dress like you’re in school. All put together and stuff. It’s kind of adorable.”

You shot him a look, your cheeks flushing slightly, and he grinned. Oh. He liked that. “What do you mean with that, Sim?”

“Well you were always so put together and propper and look at you now. Always so put together and propper, even when you wear your lab goggles.”, he chuckled. Last week he barged into your lab (after asking the professor for permission) and dragged you out for burgers. He’d taken approximately a million 0.5 pictures of you that day, wearing your lab coat and gigantic goggles. 

“You looked like a mad scientist,” he’d said, grinning. “Big glasses and all. It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute,” you’d protested, swatting at him, but he’d just laughed, dodging your hand.

The spring break party was in full swing, the bass from the music vibrating through the floor as you leaned against the kitchen counter, drink in hand. Chaewon and Yujin had abandoned you shortly after you got there, leaving you to people-watch and sip your drink. You were just about to text Jake to see if he was coming when you heard a familiar laugh.

You turned your head toward the kitchen door, and there he was Jake. Even back in highschool you understood what all the girls drooling over him saw in him. He looked unfairly good. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on you, his face lit up with that stupid boyish grin of his.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice loud and a little too enthusiastic. He started making his way over, weaving through the crowd like a man on a mission.

You smirked, setting your drink down on the counter. “Hey, Jakeyboy. I heard you won.”

Jake didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you into a hug so tight it lifted you off your feet. You laughed, your hands resting on his shoulders as he spun you around once before setting you back down. The hugs were something new you were doing. But you had absolutely nothing against it.

“We crushed them,” he said, his voice brimming with pride. “Absolutely destroyed them.”

“I am glad! You were so worried! Is Jay feeling better?”, you asked softly, fixing the collar of his shirt when he set you down. 

“Yeah. When we came in he disappeared and went to search for his girlfriend.”, he rolled his eyes but smiled. You hummed and took a sip from your drink, he stole your cup and took a sip scrunching up his nose in disgust. “Y/N you have a horrible taste in drinks.” 

“That's not true. This is a sex on the beach? How can that be bad Jake?”, you spluttered stealing your cup back. 

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “It’s way too weak. You definitely need something stronger!” He turned to the counter behind him, rummaging through the bottles until he pulled out a half-empty bottle of tequila. “Here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tequila? Really?”

“Trust me,” he said, grinning as he poured two shots. He handed one to you and held up the other. “Cheers, Y/Nie!”

You laughed, clinking your shot glass against his. “Cheers, Jakey.”

You both downed the shots, and you winced as the tequila burned its way down your throat. Jake laughed, his hand brushing against your arm. “See? Way better than that sugary crap you were drinking.”

“Debatable,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him. But you were smiling, and so was he.

The music shifted, and the opening notes of Umbrella filled the room. Jake’s eyes lit up, and he grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

“What? No—” you started to protest, but he was already pulling you toward the makeshift dance floor.

“You’re not gonna make me dance alone, are you?” he said, turning to you with an exaggerated pout.

You rolled your eyes but let him drag you into the crowd. Jake was already moving and you laughed, shaking your head as you started to dance with him.

“You’re such a dork,” you said, but you were smiling. When did Jake become this…cute? Back in highschool he always watched over you like a guard dog when you met at parties. Admittedly you were underage and easily convinced to do dumb shit, but he seemed a bit tense back then, almost worried. And he for sure never made you dance. But this was nice. Seeing him laugh this freely, genuinely enjoying his time. He apparently needed a fresh start even more than you did, but it was nice to see that he got what he needed.

“Yeah, but you’re dancing with me, so what does that say about you?” he shot back, his grin widening.

You didn’t argue. Instead, just matched his energy and sang along to Umbrella. 

You spend quite some time dancing together, joined by your or his friends sometimes. Every time a Katy Perry song came on–which, for some reason, was way more often than usual–Jake would pull you back to the kitchen for another shot. He made not only you but also his friends and teammates and their girlfriends take shots in honor of Katy Perry, when they were around. By the sixth one, you were both laughing so hard you could barely stand.

“I think the universe is trying to tell us something,” Jake said, leaning against the counter as he poured another round.

“Yeah, that we’re gonna regret this tomorrow,” you said, taking the shot glass from him.

Jake laughed, his hand brushing against yours as he handed you the salt. “Worth it.”

You smirked, licking the back of your hand and sprinkling salt on it. “You’re such a bad influence.”

Compared to Marcus he definitely wasn’t. You did so many things to impress him that you weren’t proud of. Some of things turned into habits you couldn’t shake off, even 2 years later. 

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you downed the shot, the tequila burning less this time. Jake watched you, his grin soft and a little dazed. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer. “Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You weren’t sure if you were imagining things but it looked like Jake’s eyes flickered down to your lips and then back up to yours. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your stomach flipped. You smiled, your fingers brushing intentionally against his as you set the shot glass down. “Me too.”

Jake wasn’t sure how long he’d been outside. The night had blurred together in a haze of tequila shots, bad dancing, and more shots. He’d lost you at some point, or maybe you’ve lost him, and now he was sitting on the porch steps, staring up at the stars and wondering how penguins could survive in such cold weather. His ass was cold. He couldn't imagine living somewhere even colder and having to sit on the floor.

The door creaked open behind him, and Sunghoon stepped outside, a beer in hand. “There you are,” he said, plopping down next to Jake. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Jake blinked, trying to focus on Sunghoons face. “Why?”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Because you disappeared for, like, three hours. Who were you dancing with earlier?” 

Jake frowned, trying to remember. Dancing. Right. Y/N. “Oh. That was Y/N.”

Sunghoon’s eyes lit up. “Y/N? As in, the Y/N?”

Jake shrugged. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” Sunghoon repeated, grinning. “She’s here? At this party? And you didn’t think to mention it?”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but then he froze. “Wait. Where is she?”

Sunghoon laughed, shaking his head. “You lost her?”

Jake ignored him, standing up a little too quickly and swaying on his feet. “I didn’t lose her. I just… misplaced her.”

Sunghoon snorted. “Sure.”

Jake had looked everywhere for you or at least he thought he had. He got stopped several times by other people and pulled to the kitchen for shots and his head was spinning just enough to make it hard to focus. Eventually, he gave up and stumbled outside again, hoping the cool air would clear his head.

The porch was quieter, the muffled bass from the party thumping faintly in the background. Jake blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, and that’s when he saw you. You were leaning against the railing, a cigarette dangling from your fingers as you talked to some guy Jake didn’t recognize. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair was a mess. You’ve pulled it out of your neat ponytail and it was now in a rather messy bun. He’d always known you were pretty, obviously, but this was different. This was—he didn’t know what this was. Hot? Yeah, probably hot. But fuck he hated seeing the cigarette in your hand. His chest tightened, a sharp, uncomfortable feeling tugging at his gut.

Jake walked over, his steps a little unsteady, and plucked the cigarette from your hand without a word. He stubbed it out on the railing and tossed it into an ashtray, ignoring the way you pouted at him.

“That was my last one,” you said, your voice a little slurred.

Good.

“Good,” Jake said, crossing his arms. “Stop poisoning yourself. It’s not cool.”

You pouted harder, your bottom lip jutting out. “You’re such a buzzkill.”

And damn it this was unfair. Criminal, even. He almost felt like giving you another cigarette just so you’d stop making that face, because something about it made him feel ridiculously weak. 

The guy, who was leaning against the railing next to you, burst out laughing. He was obviously drunk–or high, or both–and his laughter was loud enough to make you glare at him. “Oh, this is rich,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Y/N just got her cig stolen.”

You kicked him in the shin, hard enough to make him yelp. “Shut up, Yangyang.”

“Ow! What the hell?” Yangyang said, rubbing his leg but still grinning. “You’re such a menace.”

“And you’re an idiot,” you shot back, giving him the finger.

Yangyang just laughed again, shaking his head. “Well, if you can’t smoke, I’m gonna smoke with Hendery.” He turned around, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Hendery! Where are you, man?” Jake was pretty sure that whatever Yangyang was smoking wasn’t a cigarette. 

You rolled your eyes, muttering something under your breath. Then, you turned back to him, your pout returning full force. Oh god, not again.

“That was my last cigarette, you know.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, trying to look stern but failing miserably. “And?”

“And now I’m sad,” you said, letting your forehead drop onto his shoulder with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve ruined my night.”

Jake laughed, his hand coming up to rest lightly on your back, while the other one gripped the railing tightly. The world was spinning just very lightly, but he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to leave this spot. He liked having you this close, even if you’d just smoked and even if he hated the smell of it.

 “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

You groaned, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “You don’t understand. That was my emotional support cigarette.”

Jake snorted, his fingers brushing against your hair. “You’ll live.” 

You were warm. So warm. He barely registered what he was doing, just that he didn’t want to move.

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him, but there was no real heat behind it. Your eyes were a little hazy. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jake said, and this time, he laughed. He couldn’t help it. There was something about the way you pouted that was just… endearing? Or maybe that was the tequila talking. Either way, he was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

 Jake’s head was spinning just enough to make everything feel a little surreal, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was imagining the way your eyes seemed a little too bright, your movements a little too slow. Were you high? Maybe. Probably. He didn’t care. Not really. Should he care? He felt like he should care if you were high. He always did back in highschool. He remembered how uncomfortable you looked when Marcus came up to you with his cigarettes or joints or drinks, but you never declined. That asshole.

Then, out of nowhere, he tilted his head back and said, “Have you ever thought about penguins?”

You blinked, turning to look at him. “What?”

“Penguins,” he repeated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “We should think more about them.”

You stared at him for a second, your brow furrowing like you were trying to figure out if he was serious. Then, without warning, you burst out laughing, leaning into him as your shoulders shook. “Oh my god, Jake. You’re so drunk.”

Jake frowned, his brow furrowing as he tried to focus on you. “No, I’m not. I’m… perfectly fine. If I close one eye, I can see you in HD, so I’m not that drunk.”

That only made you laugh harder, your head resting against his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

“It makes perfect sense,” he insisted, though he was grinning now. “You’re just… too high to understand.”

“I’m high?” you said, sitting up and wiping tears from your eyes. “You’re the one talking about penguins!”

Jake shrugged, his grin turning lopsided. “Penguins are cool. They’re, like the best birds.”

You snorted, leaning back on your hands. “Okay, Mr. Ornithologist. Tell me more about these superior birds.”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but then he seemed to forget what he was going to say. Instead, he just laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I just really like penguins. Their asses don’t freeze even in snow.”

You giggled again, looking up at the night sky. “Yeah, well, maybe you should adopt one. You’d make a great penguin dad.”

Jake turned to look at you. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” you said, nodding solemnly. “ You could teach him how to skate and buy him mini gear and shit”

Jake laughed, leaning back on his hands. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, giggling and leaning into him again.

Jake wasn’t sure how long you’d been sitting on the porch steps, your head resting on his shoulder as you both stared up at the stars, talking about everything and nothing. Yangyang  came back at one point and now Jake knew you were high, when Yangyang enthusiastically offered you another puff, which you accepted just as enthusiastically. Jake was perfectly content to stay like this forever.

That is, until Heeseung showed up.

“Jesus, what happened here?” Heeseung’s voice cut through the quiet, and Jake looked up to see his roommate standing in the doorway, his girlfriend was peeking out from behind him. Both of them were grinning, though Heeseung looked more exasperated than amused.

“We’re fine,” Jake said, waving a hand dismissively. “Go away.”

“You’re not fine,” Heeseung said, stepping onto the porch. “You’re both drunk off your asses and sitting on the ground like a couple of lost puppies.”

“I’m not drunk,” you said, lifting your head from Jake’s shoulder to glare at Heeseung. “I think I’m high. Jake’s drunk, though. And he wants to adopt a penguin and call it Noot Noot.”

You broke out into giggles, leaning into Jake as if this were the funniest thing you’d ever said. Jake groaned, his cheeks turning pink. “I do not.”

“You do,” you insisted, still laughing. “You said penguins are the best birds and that Noot Noot would be the perfect name. And you want to teach him how to play hockey.”

Heeseungs girlfriend bursted out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh my god, that’s adorable.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Yeah, adorable. Come on, you two. Let’s get you home.”

Jake groaned, leaning back on his hands. “We’re fine. Leave us alone.”

“You’re not fine,” Heeseung said, bending down to grab Jake’s arm. “Up. Now.”

Jake tried to swat him away, but Heeseung was too strong, pulling him into a standing position. “Noooo.”, he lamented, “I don’t want to stand up. My legs hurt.”

As Heeseung hauled Jake to his feet, Jake turned to you, his expression suddenly serious. “Wait, Y/N has to come too,” he said, his words slurred but insistent. “She can’t go home alone. She’s... she’s gotta come with us.” You blinked up at him, your own head spinning as you tried to process his words. “I’m fine,” you said, though your voice was just as wobbly as his. “No, you’re not,” Jake said, his hand reaching out to grab yours. “You’re coming with me. Heeseung, tell her.”

Heeseung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not getting in the middle of this. Baby, help me out here.”

His griflriend stepped forward to help you up, her laughter fading into a soft smile. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

You pouted but let her pull you to your feet, swaying slightly as you stood. “I’m not drunk,” you insisted, though the way you stumbled over your own feet said otherwise.

“Sure you’re not,” she said, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. “Let’s go.”

Heeseung and his girlfriend managed to get both of you into a cab and back to the dorm. The ride was a blur of laughter and half-hearted protests, and by the time they got there, Jake was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep on your shoulder at least once.

“Alright,” Heeseung said, unlocking the door and ushering everyone inside. “Jake, you’re on the air mattress. Y/N, you get his bed.”

Jake groaned, collapsing onto his bed. “Why do I have to sleep on the floor?”

“Because you’re a gentleman,” Heeseung said, tossing a pillow at him. It hit Jake square in the face, and he let out an indignant huff. “And because I said so.”

You giggled, sitting down on the edge of Jake’s bed. “Thanks, Heeseung. You’re the best.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah.” 

His girlfriend handed you a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. “Here. Take these. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You nodded, swallowing the pills with a grimace. “Thank you!”

“No problem,” she said, smiling. “Now, lets get you changed so that you can get some sleep. Both of you.”

She pulled you up again and ushered you into Jakes bathroom while Jake changed into his pyjama and flopped down onto the mattress, closing his eyes and almost falling asleep until you came back and threw yourself onto his bed. It creaked loudly and you giggled.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then, Jake turned his head to look at you. “You good?”

You nodded, your eyes already closing. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” Jake said, his voice soft. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jake,” you murmured, already halfway asleep.

Jake smiled, turning onto his side and closing his eyes. The room was quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of sheets as you shifted on the bed. 

Or at least, until you suddenly sat up, your eyes wide. “I don’t wanna sleep. Let’s watch Noot Noot.”

Jake blinked slowly, propping himself up on his elbows. “What?”

“Noot Noot,” you repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know, the penguin. The one you want to adopt.”

Jake groaned, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. “Y/N, it’s like 5 a.m.” How could you be so awake? You were drunk and high. 

“Exactly,” you said, climbing out of the bed and onto the air mattress next to him. The mattress squeaked under your combined weight, and Jake had to grab the edges to keep from rolling off. “It’s the perfect time for Noot Noot.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, giggling as you pulled out your phone and started searching for a video.

Jake didn’t even try to argue. Instead, he just leaned back, and you curled against like it was the most normal thing in the as you found the video and hit play. The sound of the penguin’s high-pitched “noot noot” filled the room, and you both burst out laughing.

“See?” you said, your voice full of triumph. “This is amazing.”

Jake couldn’t help but agree, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the video or because you were lying next to him, wearing his clothes and laughing like that stupid penguin was the funniest thing you have ever seen. Either way, he wasn’t complaining. His eyes slowly drifted shut. 

You woke up to the sound of someone groaning softly and an arm slung loosely over your waist. Your head was pounding, your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. Where the hell were you? You blinked blearily at the sunlight streaming through the curtains. You recognized Jakes room and concluded that Jake was the one who woke you up. 

Your face heated up. Why were you sleeping on Jake? 

Jake stirred beside you, his face scrunching up as he groaned again. “Y/N,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and urgent. “I gotta… I gotta go. Like, now.”

You barely had time to roll out of the way before he scrambled off the air mattress, nearly tripping over the blanket tangled around his legs. He stumbled toward the bathroom, and you heard the door slam shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of him throwing up.

“Oh, Jake,” you muttered, wincing in sympathy as you dragged yourself off the deflated mattress. You grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand and shuffled to the bathroom, knocking lightly on the door before pushing it open.

Jake was kneeling in front of the toilet, his forehead resting on his arm. He looked up at you, his face pale and his hair sticking up in every direction. “I’m dying,” he croaked.

“You’re not dying,” you said, crouching down beside him and handing him the water. “Here, rinse your mouth out.”

He took the bottle with a shaky hand, swishing some water around before spitting it into the toilet. You reached over and started rubbing his back, your fingers moving in slow, soothing circles. “You’re such a lightweight,” you teased, though your voice was gentle.

“Shut up,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and taking a few slow breaths. “I am so tired. Why did we think watching Noot Noot at 3 a.m. was a good idea?”

You froze, your hand stilling on his back. “Wait. What?”

Jake cracked one eye open to look at you. “You don’t remember? You literally squeezed yourself onto that stupid air mattress and made me watch, like, ten Noot Noot videos. You said it was ‘essential viewing.’”

“Oh my god,” you said, covering your face with your hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, force you or make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Jake laughed weakly, shaking his head. “Relax, Y/N. If I was uncomfortable, I would’ve said something. I just didn’t expect to spend half the night watching a penguin meme.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Still. Sorry if I was annoying.”

“You’re always annoying,” he said, but the way he smiled took the sting out of his words. “Now, can we please go back to bed? I feel like death.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, standing up and holding out a hand to help him to his feet. “But I’m not sleeping on that deflated mattress again. I’ll pump some air into it while you finish up here.”

Jake nodded, leaning heavily on you as he stood. “Deal. Just shut up for five minutes, okay?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you left him in the bathroom and went to find the air pump. By the time Jake emerged, looking slightly less green but still miserable, you’d managed to get the mattress back to a somewhat functional state.

“There,” you said, flopping down onto it. “Now you can have your bed, and I’ll take this.”

Jake just nodded and collapsed onto his bed, pulling the blanket over himself with a groan. “You’re a saint,” he mumbled, his voice already muffled by the pillow.

“I know,” you said, grinning as you settled onto the air mattress. The room was quiet again, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner and Jake’s steady breathing. You closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion pull you back under.

“Y/N this is a stupid idea.”, Jake said, watching the recipe on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time.

“It’s actually a very good idea, Jakeyboy. We are two responsible adults who I am sure can make a lasagne and salad.”, you huffed while cutting up an onion. 

Jake raised an eyebrow, and moved next to you, grabbing some of the carrots. “Responsible adults who are cooking for their friends who are actually responsible adults as a thank you?”

“Exactly. I think cooking Hee and Jeonghee lasagne as a thank you for not letting us end in a ditch while we were high and or drunk is a responsible thing to do. Can you also peel the celery? Do we have to peel the celery?”, you stopped cutting the onion and frowned at Jake, holding up a stalk of celery.

Jake shrugged, searching through the drawer for a peeler. “Dude, I have no idea. Why does your recipe want you to put in celery?” He rummaged through the utensils, muttering to himself. “Jay has to have one somewhere here, right? Peelers could be categorized as knives?” If Jake was honest, he rarely cooked—at home or here in his dorm. Ramyeon was easy to make, as was fried rice or a fried egg, but lasagna? He was really unsure if or how he should match your confidence that the two of you could whip up something edible.

You frowned harder and grabbed Jakes phone from next to him. “I have no idea. Maybe i read something wrong? What's your pin?”

“100920.”, he started peeling the thickest carrot lying in the bunch, “Haha look at that. This is surely over average.”

You snorted and hit him lightly on the back. “Man. Jake. What the hell,” you scolded, scrolling through his TikTok chat. “Oh, wait, I think I kinda mixed up two different recipes? This one wants celery, and this one doesn’t. Should we still add it?”

“Yeah? Do you like celery?”, he peered over his shoulder to look at the video you were showing him now. 

“I mean, it’s ‘high-protein lasagna’ and not ‘lasagna straight from an Italian restaurant.’ I think we should stick to ‘straight from an Italian restaurant.’ Screw protein. Jay can get pumped when I’m not there,” you shrugged, sliding Jake’s phone into his back pocket.

“Just for your information, I’m also getting pumped. I need the protein too,” he muttered, his tone mock-offended, as he leaned against the counter next to you.

You grinned, nudging his shoulder. “Oh, man. You’ve got a long way to go, Jakeyboy. Jay looks delicious, and you still look like the 16-year-old Lego-building loser you were in high school. Muscle-wise, at least.”

“Hey!” Jake protested, bumping his hip into yours playfully. But then, in a move that surprised even himself, he stepped closer, towering over you slightly as he leaned against the counter, effectively caging you in. He flexed, his biceps straining against the sleeve of his shirt, and shot you a smug look. “Still a loser, huh?”

Your eyes flicked down to his arm, then back up to meet his gaze. You reached out, your fingers trailing along the curve of his muscle, slow and deliberate. “Hmm,” you said, pretending to consider it, but your touch lingered, your nails just barely grazing over his skin. Jake swallowed hard.

“Not bad,” you finally said, lips quirking. “But I’d still appreciate Jay’s more.”

For a split second, something in him stuttered. His breath hitched before he could stop it, his playful smirk faltering as your hand remained on his arm just a second too long. His brain scrambled, short-circuiting between the feeling of your fingers on him and the way your lips formed those words.

He forced himself to roll his eyes, to plaster on some version of nonchalance before his face gave him away. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You’re just jealous.”

You stepped a bit closer to him, your chest nearly brushing against his, and poked him right in the middle of his chest. Shooting him a fake pout. “You know, Jake, if you’re trying to impress me, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Oh. Oh, shit.

His brain blanked for a beat, completely wiped clean.

He could see every tiny detail of your face. The slight overline of your lipstick, the way your lashes curled, the teasing glint in your eyes that made his stomach flip. He could smell the floral tinges of your perfume.

Jake raised an eyebrow, willing his voice to stay steady. “Oh, yeah? What would impress you, then?”

You tilted your head, your expression as innocent as ever: "Hmmm. Maybe if you could actually cook this lasagna without burning it,” you mused, tapping a finger to your chin, “or, I don’t know, if you could actually keep up with Jay at the gym.”

Jake opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything, the sound of the front door opening interrupted him.

“Uhh, am I interrupting something?” Jay’s voice came from the doorway, his tone laced with amusement as he took in the scene. 

You didn’t miss a beat. “Not at all! It’s actually perfect that you’re here. We were just talking about you.” You turned to Jay with a bright smile, completely unbothered. “Do we put celery in lasagna, yes or no?”

Jake blinked, his face heating up as he took a step back from you. Okay, what the hell just happened? He glanced at Jay, who was now grinning at Jake.

He raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. “Celery in lasagna? That kinda feels like a crime Y/N.”

“That’s what I said!” Jake exclaimed, grateful for the distraction. His heart was still beating way too fast.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, no celery. Got it.”

After Jay hung up his jacket and washed his hands he dropped on the high stool in front of the counter Jake and you were currently back to cutting up the definitely over average carrot and the onion, bickering over how big the pieces should be. “Is there a reason why you two are trying to set our kitchen on fire?”

“Well until now nothing has been on fire. And we just were in the mood for lasagne.”, you said with a nod. 

“For the record, I have been bullied into this and I am innocent.”, Jake said, looking at Jay who gave him a knowing facial expression. Well not really knowing, actually. There was nothing to know. Or at least shouldn’t, right?

You shot him a look, waving the knife in his direction. “Sounds like a you problem, Jakeyboy, now go and try making the sauce.”

Jake groaned but obediently grabbed the pot of tomato sauce you’d set on the stove. He turned the burner on. “How high should this be?”

Jay groaned and stood up, moving towards the two of you. “Oh my god. You are going to burn the kitchen.”

You were sitting in the stands of the ice hockey rink on campus, waiting for Jake to finish his practice for the day. Usually, you would have waited outside, but the weather was atrocious, cold, windy, and raining sideways, so you opted for the lesser evil: the freezing arena. 

It wasn’t ideal, but at least you weren’t getting drenched. You curled up on the hard plastic seat, wrapped in Jake's hoodie. He had tossed it your way when you complained about the cold earlier, your suit pants and the t-shirt you were wearing were warm in the lab with your lab coat on top but you were freezing in the rink. You pulled your noise-canceling headphones over your ears and attempted to focus on your notes. You’d been at it for a while now, trying to memorize the damn nerves of the human leg, but you’d officially hit your limit when the Nervus obturatorius made you lose your own damn nerves.

With a frustrated sigh, you gave up, glancing toward the ice.

Your eyes found Jake immediately, not that you were looking for him. He was just easy to spot, standing out among his teammates, moving across the ice with a confidence that was second nature. His strides were powerful, effortless, muscles flexing under all that gear. He didn’t lie when he told you that he was good. 

It was weird seeing him like this, so focused. You were so used to the version of him that never took anything seriously, always smirking, always teasing. But here, in his element, he looked different. Determined. Sharp. A little more grown up than the Jake you met years ago. You couldn’t understand how his father could not see how much Jake loved and needed this sport. On the ice he was just ruthless. You definitely weren’t an expert, but after a bit of research you figured out that quite a few players graduated from DA and immediately went into the NHL. You were sure that if Jake tried he would get in. He just needed a small little push to even try. 

And then, like he felt you watching, Jake skated past the glass, catching your gaze. And then, the bastard winked at you before turning back to his drill like nothing happened.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled fondly nonetheless.

You saw him all the time now. The weekly cafe dates-not-dates became a thing and then the Wednesday post-practice hangout just happened after he asked you to wait until his practice was over so he could walk you home. And your study dates-not-dates? Well, if you had to suffer, he had to suffer, too. And most of the time they ended with free food for you after wards, so who are you to complain? 

 And maybe–just maybe–you didn’t mind it. Jake was steadily slipping into the role of your best friend, weaving his way in before you even realized it. Even your friends accepted him when he first barged into one of your study sessions and now he had the pleasure of being your dummy victim for the last month and a half. He didn’t seem to mad about it any you genuinely enjoyed him being around. Sometimes you looked forwards to studying just cause it meant you and Jake went out for dinner afterwards. Like you did with the cafes, you are trying out a new restaurant every week. So far your favourite one was the small Mandu place that was in one of the rather creepy alleyways around your subway station. You had Jake with you, right, your scary kinda buff hockey playing…friend. 

Before you could think too hard about that, the practice wrapped up. The guys disappeared into the locker room, and you forced yourself to refocus on your notes, determined to actually learn something before Jake finished showering.

It was quiet for a while, the rink mostly empty, just the occasional distant noise from the locker room. You were so focused, that you didn’t hear him approach.

Until–

“Boo.”

You screamed. Loud.

Your headphones flew off, your tablet nearly tumbled off your lap, and your heart slammed against your ribs.

Jake stood behind you, doubled over, laughter spilling from his lips, hands on his knees as he wheezed. “Oh my God–your face–”

“You asshole!” You smacked his arm, still clutching your chest. “What is wrong with you?!”

He was still grinning, eyes bright with amusement, hair damp from his shower. He was in sweats now, his hockey bag hanging off his shoulder.

“You scare way too easy,” he teased and dropped down on the seat next to you.

“You loomed!”

He snorted. “I stood there.”

“You loomed,” you insisted, glaring at him.

Jake just smirked, then nudged your knee with his. “Are you waiting for me?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I just love freezing my ass off in an ice rink for fun.”

“Aw, Y/N, you’re so cute,” he teased, reaching out to pat your hair like you were some little kid.

You smacked his hand away with a huff, shoving your iPad into your bag. “Fuck you, Jake.”

He shrugged, standing up and holding out a hand. “Nah, man, I’d rather have someone else do that job.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “Oh?” You tilted your head, voice dripping with faux curiosity. “Missionary? Or cowboy? Maybe 69?”

Jake snorted, shaking his head. “Reverse missionary. I wanna see the face of whoever has the pleasure of feeling Jake Junior doing his magic.”

You lost it, laughter spilling out of you. “Sure, Jake.”

Still giggling, you started walking toward the exit together. 

Jake shot you a side glance, smirk still firmly in place. “Okay, but for real, if I had to pick a second-favorite position–”

You groaned. “Why are we still on this?”

“Because you asked,” he pointed out, completely unbothered.

You gave him an exasperated look but played along. “Fine. What’s Jake Junior’s backup move?”

Jake pursed his lips, pretending to think. “Reverse cowgirl is solid. Great view, minimal effort.”

You snorted. “So, you’re lazy.”

“I prefer efficient,” he corrected, giving you a pointed look.

You hummed as if considering it. “Okay, but wouldn’t that make missionary way too much effort for you?”

Jake gasped dramatically. “Excuse you, I give 110%.”

“Sure you do.”

“You doubt my skills?” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Wow. I thought you believed in me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, I totally sit around thinking about your sexual performance.” Actually 16 year old you did. Whenever Sophia told you about what they were doing. How good he was. But 21 year old you hasn’t really done so. In quite a while. Maybe you should think about it again. 

Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “You should.” 

You shoved his shoulder, laughing again.

You reached the heavy entrance door to the rink and when Jake used his shoulder to open it you.

Your hands were still linked. His hand was warm in yours and you could feel the calloused skin on the inside of his palm pressing against yours softly.

Huh.

You should’ve let go.

Neither of you did.

“Yo, lovebirds!”

You looked up to see Jay leaning out of a car in the parking lot, grinning like an idiot.

“Are you getting in or gonna stand there holding hands all night?”

Your stomach dropped.

You let Jake's hand go like it burned, stuffing your own into your hoodie pocket.

Jake looked completely unbothered. He just shoved his hands into his own pockets, glancing at you with an easy smirk. “You jealous, man?”

Jay laughed. “Yeah, bro, I’m really heartbroken over not being the one holding your hand.”

You gasped and clutched your chest dramatically. “Oh my god. Jake! You should have told me you are with Jay! I can’t  get in between your homoerotic love-hate relationship!”

You quickened your pace and Jake jogged after you, still chuckling under his breath.

The moment the doors shut, Heeseung turned in his seat, eyebrows raised. “So… when were you guys planning on telling us?”

You blinked. “Telling you what?”

Jay scoffed. “Oh, come on. The looks, the hand-holding, the fact that you guys are basically attached at the hip these days.” He turned back toward the front, muttering, “I still can’t believe I had to witness you flirting in the kitchen while almost burning it down.”

“Hey! It didn’t burn down!”, you protested, not focusing on the flirting part. You still weren’t sure what happened there, but you knew that you definitely liked Jake's reaction. 

Jake stretched his legs out, completely relaxed. “You sound jealous, man.”

“Duh,” Jay said immediately. “We’ve been through so much, Jake, and you go and fall in love with someone else? Unreal.”

You choked. “Excuse me?”

Heeseung laughed and reversed out of the parking spot. “Damn. Jake you really haven’t asked her yet?”

You stiffened. “Because there’s nothing to ask.”

Jay turned back around, unimpressed. “Uh-huh. Sure. Y/N, you hang out more with Jake than I do, and I live together with him. I sure know when my homo-erotic lover is about to ask his loser best friend to be his girlfriend.”

Jake let out a low, dramatic sigh, tilting his head back against the seat. “Man. It’s so hard being this wanted.”

You smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Heeseung laughed. “C’mon, you really expect us to believe you’re not together? Like, at all?”

“Yes!”

“Then what are you?”

Your mouth opened. Then closed.

Jake glanced at you, amused, like he was waiting to see what you’d say.

You inhaled sharply. “We’re just friends.”

Jay hummed. “Friends who go on, what, three dates a week?”

Jake shrugged. “Gotta make time for my favorite person.” 

And you said “We aren’t going on dates!”, at the same time. 

You snapped your head toward him. “Jake.”

He just smirked and you hit him again.

Jay and Heeseung groaned at the same time. “Oh, my God.”

You groaned back, louder. “Oh, my God, what?”

“Nothing,” Heeseung said, clearly not meaning it. “It’s just exhausting watching you guys be this in denial.”

You crossed your arms, fully exasperated now. “There’s nothing to be in denial about.”

Jay just shook his head. “Right, right. Tell me that again when you’re not literally sitting in his favourite hoodie.”

Your stomach dropped. You glanced down.

…Shit.

You were wearing Jake’s hoodie. That said nothing though. You wore them often. You had the talent to not bring weather appropriate clothing, mostly because your outfits wouldn’t look good if they were weather appropriate. You’d rather freeze than wear a ugly jacket.

Jake grinned, looking way too entertained. “I told you to bring your own.”

You kicked him and leaned forward. “Jongseong Park, are you seriously saying you don’t believe in cross-gender friendships? Psychologically, they’re crucial for emotional intelligence, breaking down gender stereotypes, and even improving romantic relationships. Anthropologically, they’ve played a key role in human survival!” You gesticulated between you and the two of them sitting in the front. ”Men and women have always worked together, forming alliances and strengthening social cohesion. So, like, without cross-gender friendships, we probably wouldn’t even be here. So maybe you should get some female friends first, to improve your social and emotional skills and not judge Jakeyboy and me because we can be friends without fucking each other.”

Heeseung and Jay just stared at you.

Mouths slightly open, eyes blinking slowly, processing the absolute monologue you just hit them with.

Jake, however, just grinned and leaned back in his seat.

“Man,” Heeseung said, finally breaking the silence. “I actually forgot you were smart.”

Jay whistled lowly, shaking his head. “Damn. And she’s hot too. Unbelievable.”

Heeseung turned to Jake, looking him up and down with newfound pity. “Bro. You do not deserve this.”

Jake scoffed. “Excuse me?”

Jay started the motor and shook his head dramatically. "Dude. You’re dating a nerd. I've lost my nerd to another nerd. I knew I was never enough for you."

"I'm not dating her!" Jake protested.

"You wish you were dating her," Heeseung shot back, grinning.

You nodded solemnly. “Jay’s the real loser here.”

Jake groaned. “You guys suck.”

Jay ignored him, shaking his head as if he was still in mourning. “I mean, I thought we had something special, you know? And then he goes and picks her?”

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head as if truly mourning Jay’s heartbreak. Then, with the most sympathetic look you could muster, you placed a hand on his shoulder. You were so glad for this distraction, Jesus. You were really not in the mood to explain to yourself and anyone else what the hell was going on with you and Jake. And why you were just walking hand in hand. Why didn't you let go even when you realized. 

“Oh, Jay,” you said, voice laced with faux pity. “I am so sorry you fell for him. I can assure you that he has not been cheating on you with me. I have way to high morals for that.”

Jay let out a deep, shaky breath, nodding solemnly. “It’s… it’s been really hard.”

Heeseung placed a comforting hand on his other shoulder. “Stay strong, man.”

Jay sniffled dramatically. “I mean, I thought we had something special, you know?” He gestured vaguely toward Jake, looking absolutely betrayed. “

Jake rolled his eyes. “You guys are so stupid.”

“Stupidly heartbroken,” Jay corrected, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

You hummed in agreement, tilting your head. “It must be painful, to think you lost your one true love to a woman who looks at dead bodies all day.”

“Exactly!” Jay threw his hands up in exasperation. “Like, what do I have to do? I’m young, I’m attractive, I come from money–”

“Yeah, but you don’t have weird hobbies,” you pointed out with mock seriousness. “That’s clearly where you went wrong.”

Jake scoffed. “Oh, so my hobbies are weird?”

“You monologue about black holes for fun, bro,” Heeseung said.

Jake scowled. "First of all, wormholes are a fascinating theoretical concept—"

"God, there he goes again," Jay fake-gagged, making you burst out laughing. 

You liked Jakes ‘weird’ hobbies. You didn’t particularly enjoy physics but if he could listen to you ramble about bone fracturing you could listen to his rambling about wormholes. It was really cute actually.

"You guys just don’t appreciate science," Jake huffed, crossing his arms.

"Not true," Heeseung said. "I appreciate science when it’s not being explained to me at 2 a.m. because some idiot suddenly had an existential crisis about black holes swallowing the Earth."

Heeseung leaned back in his seat, nodding in your direction. “See? This is what you could have, if you want to steal Jay's boyfriend.”

You just smirked, crossing your arms. “Well, Jay, if it makes you feel better, I would be treating him well. You know, take him out, hold his hand, maybe even listen to his little physics rants. Then he can home to you and treat you like the king you are and satisfy all your needs. I just learned that his preferred position is missionary.”

Jay gasped. “You’re gonna let him nerd out?”

Jake glared at you. “Don’t call it nerding out.”

“I am in love with a nerd,” Jay muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"Oh, Jay," you clutched your chest like you were heartbroken for him. "I am so sorry. Falling for a loser like Jake must be so hard."

Jay nodded solemnly. "It is. The worst pain I’ve ever known."

Jake groaned. "You both suck."

"You love us," Heeseung and Jay said in unison.

Jake just slumped in his seat, muttering under his breath while you all laughed.

Almost two hours later you were laying on Jake's sofa bickering over what movie you wanted to watch today. You were scrolling through Disney plus while he was on the toilet when you saw two very familiar faces.

“Continue watching?”, you muttered and clicked on the picture just as Jake came back from the bathroom. “You started watching Bones?” 

Jake, dropped down on the sofa next to you, lounging with his socked feet propped up on the coffee table. “You said it’s the reason why you are the person you are now.” he said, stretching lazily. “Figured I’d see what the hype was about.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. You weren’t sure what stunned you more—the fact that he actually gave the show a chance or the fact that you felt weirdly… touched by it.

“And?” You folded your arms, giving him a pointed look.

He sighed dramatically. “It’s annoyingly good.”

A triumphant grin stretched across your face. “I knew it! I told you, you would like it!”

“Please just tell me they get together.”, he said resting one of his arms on the armrest behind you.

You pressed your lips onto each other and shook your head: “I will not spoil anything. You gotta watch Jakeyboy.” 

Jake scoffed, reaching for the remote. “Booth and Brennan are the most stubborn people on Earth. They’re practically begging to make their lives harder. They should just fuck.”

You just laughed.“I will say nothing. How much did you watch?”

He shrugged and pressed start on start. “Five seasons.”

Your jaw dropped. “Jake!”

“What?” He shrugged, grinning at your shock. “I got hooked.”

“You are insane.”, you shook your head. “Where did you find the time to watch five season in like seven weeks?”

“I mean I watched other stuff as well. But I tend to watch it whenever I am not eating anything? I don't really want to eat and look at a rotting corpse? I am normal compared to you.”, he shrugged and grabbed the blanket that was laying next to him, draping it on top of his and your legs. 

“Hey!”, you protested.

Jake was heading out of the business building, stretching his arms above his head as he stepped into the crisp afternoon air. The sun was out, and it instantly put him in a better mood. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that you had texted him earlier, asking if he wanted to go for coffee at your café—the one where you’d had your first date-not-date. He didn’t even have to think twice before saying yes.

You loved the sun, but between your major and the sheer number of hours you spent buried in your studies, you rarely got to enjoy it. So whenever the weather was decent, you made it a mission to drag him or one of your friends outside with you. He thought it was kind of endearing.

He was checking his phone, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he read your text you sent him during class when he suddenly heard his name being called: “Jake!” 

His head snapped up at the familiar voice. A man in a sharp suit strode toward him, laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

“Uncle Jungjae?” Jake barely had time to register what was happening before he was pulled into a firm hug. “What are you doing here?”

His uncle patted his back before stepping away, smiling knowingly. “Nice to see you too, son.” Then he lifted his laptop bag slightly. “I was invited to give a lecture on venture investing. Thought I might catch you while I was here. So surprise!”

Jake blinked. “Well, you got me.”

“Of course I did,” Jungjae chuckled, throwing an arm around Jake’s shoulders as they started walking toward the campus entrance. “So, tell me, how’s school? Hockey? Life? Your father mentioned you have some exciting news.” His eyes glinted with curiosity.

Jake stiffened slightly. Of course, his dad sent his uncle to poke around.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, keeping his tone casual. “Everything’s good. School’s school, hockey’s hockey. Same old.”

“And your girlfriend?” His uncle’s smirk was all-knowing. “Your father was very surprised when you told him you were bringing someone to the wedding. Or, well that you had a girlfriend at all.”

Jake forced a tight-lipped smile, heart sinking. Damn it.

“Ah, yeah. Y/N,” he said, feeling oddly hot under the collar. “We, uh, we’ve been together for a while now.”

Jungjae raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’ve been very secretive about it.”

Jake swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “I just… didn’t think it was a big deal. And, you know, my personal life isn’t exactly dinner conversation with my dad.”

His uncle hummed. “Well, I’d love to meet her. Without your dad present. He is going to intimidate that poor girl to no end.”

Jake had always been fond of his father’s younger brother. Unlike most of his family, his uncle was consistently supportive, kind, and easy to be around. He himself didn’t have any children but it was clear he was his favorite child in the family. 

Jake opened his mouth to stall when, as if on cue, he spotted you approaching from across the courtyard.

His stomach dropped. Shit.

You were walking toward him, unplugging your headphones, wearing one of his jackets you stole over one of the summer dresses he knew you loved. You really looked cute in it. Younger, not as sharp as you usually did. 

Thinking fast, he plastered on a smile and waved you over. “Y/N! Baby!”

Your brows knitted together for the briefest moment before your eyes flicked toward his uncle. Jake barely tilted his head in his direction and widened his, just enough for you to catch on.

A second later, you nodded slightly, your expression smoothing into something effortlessly sweet as you closed the distance between you two.

“Hi, Jakey.”

If Jake wasn’t currently fighting the urge to die inside, he might have cringed at how effortlessly you played the part. Instead, he just wrapped an arm around your waist, hoping his uncle didn’t notice how stiff he was.

His uncle looked very amused.

“Well, well,” he mused, shaking his head. “Now I see why your father was so shocked.”

Jake forced a grin. “Yeah, uh–Uncle Jungjae, this is Y/N.” He gestured between the two of you. “Y/N, my uncle.”

You turned to his uncle with a polite smile, offering your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Jake’s told me a lot about you.”

Jungjae shook your hand, his grip firm. “And yet, this is my first time hearing about you.”

You laughed lightly. “Well, Jake’s a man of mystery, I suppose.”

Jake nearly choked. Mystery? He was the least mysterious person on the planet.

His uncle gave a thoughtful nod. “That he is.” His expression softened, though, as he studied Jake. “It’s good to see you finally settling down.”

Jake exhaled, squeezing your waist in what he hoped looked like an affectionate gesture.

You handled the whole situation flawlessly. “Of course,” you said, bumping Jake’s side. “I had to whip him into shape.”

Jungjae laughed, patting Jake’s back. “I like her.”

Jake swallowed thickly, forcing another grin. “Yeah, me too.”

And maybe, just for a second, it wasn’t entirely a lie.

His uncle glanced between the two of you as if analyzing something before he started walking toward the exit of the courtyard. “I was just heading to my car. Walk with me?”

Jake hesitated, but you were already nodding. “Of course,” you said, looping your arm through his.

And just like that, you were walking beside him, your fingers trailing down his wrist before casually slipping into his hand.

Jake froze for half a second before forcing himself to relax.

It wasn’t weird. You’d held hands before. But something about the way you did it so naturally made his chest feel a little too tight. He squeezed your hand lightly, trying to focus on the conversation.

“So,” his uncle said as they walked. “Tell me, Y/N–how did you two meet?”

You barely missed a beat. “Through mutual friends.”

“And how long has it been?” Jungjae asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jake panicked for half a second before you replied smoothly, “A few months now.”

Thank god you could actually act your part out better than him. He was sure his uncle would see through every lie he would try to tell him. 

The older man hummed. “Interesting. Your father made it sound like it was much newer than that.”

You let out a breathy laugh, looking at Jake with almost sparkling eyes. He has never seen this facial expression on your face but he didn’t want you to stop looking at him. “Well, when he told his dad we just put a label on our relationship but we have been going on dates since around the end of last year.”

His uncle gave a slow nod. “I suppose that makes sense.” Then, after a beat, he added, “You’re studying forensic anthropology, right?”

You perked up immediately. “Yes! Jake mentioned that?”

“He did,” Jungjae said, glancing at his nephew, knowing very well that Jake never said anything about that. It must have been his father. “And he said you were very passionate about it.”

Jake found himself relaxing more and more as you started talking about your studies. You were always so excited about what you did, and it was hard not to get caught up in your energy. He loved listening to you rambling about your cases or whatever you thought was interesting. Huh, maybe his friends were right. You were a nerd. 

Even his uncle seemed to enjoy the conversation, nodding along and asking more questions. By the time you reached the parking lot, Jake had almost forgotten that this wasn’t real.

Jungjae stopped by his car and turned to the two of you with a warm smile. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Y/N. I can see why Jake’s so taken with you.”

Jake stiffened. Oh shit.

But you just smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go. “It was really nice meeting you too, sir.”

Jungjae patted Jake’s shoulder. “We’ll talk soon, alright?”

Jake nodded, swallowing. “Yeah, of course.”

His uncle got into his car, and as soon as he was out of sight, Jake let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

You turned to him with a smirk. “Well, baby, that was fun.”

Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I hate this.”

“No, you don’t.” You nudged him playfully. “Come on, fake boyfriend. You still owe me coffee.”

Jake shook his head but let you pull him along.

He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or deeply concerned that lying to his uncle felt so easy at the end.

You were listening to Kazuha excitedly talk about wanting to ride the biggest rollercoaster when a familiar voice called out.

“Yo, Y/N!”

Turning toward the voice, you spotted Jake, Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon and their respective girlfriends walking towards your group. The moment Jays girlfriend saw you, she brightened. “Oh! Sakura, K! I didn’t know you guys were coming too!”

You met Jay's girlfriend briefly when you were having one of your movie evenings and she was very sweet to you. 

Sakura beamed, immediately hugging her. “We just got here not long ago!”

Meanwhile, K stepped forward, bumping fists with both Jay and Heeseung. “Been a while,” he said, grinning.

Jay smirked. “Dude, it’s been, like, two weeks.”

“Which is a while,” K shot back.

The group easily fell into conversation, exchanging hugs and greetings. Heeseung’s girlfriend was talking to Yunjin about a new book, while Sunghoon and Jake were talking to K, giggling like three small girls.

You shook your head with a small smile. 

At one point Jake slowed down his pace and walked next to you and Chaewon, just listening to the two of you talking about a class she already passed and you were currently suffering through. 

It wasn’t long before the others started eyeing the biggest, fastest ride in the park.

“You’re coming, right?” Kazuha asked you.

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah… no.”

Jake scoffed from beside you. “Same.”

Sunghoon frowned. “Dude, you’re seriously not coming? Again?”

“You know I don’t do rides,” Jake said, crossing his arms. “It’s not my fault my body refuses to cooperate.”

“Oh my god, you get motion sickness,” you realized, looking up at him.

Jake groaned. “Don’t say it out loud.”

You laughed.

The rest decided to go and lined up in the queue without you, leaving the two of you alone. 

Jake slung an arm around your shoulder, watching your friends queuing up. “Guess you’re stuck with me for the night.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, what a tragedy.”

The two of you decided to walk around the carnival on your own, not wanting to be bored by waiting for your friends when the operator told you they would have to wait at least twenty minutes. 

Jake walked beside you, his arm still around your shoulder when he suddenly stopped in front of a game stand. “Oh my god look at those plushies. They look like a cheap badly made mini version of Layla. I am going to win one!”

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing the game. It was one of those classic carnival scams–the one where you had to knock over a pyramid of weighted milk bottles with a baseball.

“Oh, are you?” you teased, crossing your arms, leaning onto the booth next to him. “Because I don’t know, Jakeyboy, this looks kinda hard.”

He scoffed, rolling his shoulders like an athlete about to enter a championship game. “Have a little faith in me.” He winked for dramatic effect before turning to the booth worker. “Three tries.”

The first ball bounced off the bottles without even toppling one.

You barely stifled a laugh as Jake straightened his stance. “That was a warm-up.”

The second throw knocked over a single bottle.

Jake cursed under his breath. You bit your lip, watching his jaw clench in frustration.

By the third attempt, you were almost hoping he’d miss just to keep teasing him. But with sheer determination and possibly some anger, he threw the last ball with a little too much force, sending the bottles scattering.

“Yes!” Jake pumped his fist in the air before turning to you with the cockiest grin. The booth worker asked him what plushy he wanted and he enthusiastically asked for the beige dog.

He handed Jake the little dog plushy and he handed it to you. “Here. A token of my victory.”

You took it, grinning up at him. “Aw thank you Jakey. Are you sure you want to give me fake Layla?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, take her.”

With your new plushy secured in one arm, you let Jake guide you toward the food stands, where the smell of fried dough was practically calling your name. Within minutes, the two of you were sharing a funnel cake, tearing off pieces as you strolled through the festival.

At some point, Jake paused, squinting at you.

“What?” you asked, mid-bite.

He smirked. “You’ve got sugar on your face.”

Before you could wipe it away, he reached out, brushing his thumb against the corner of your lips.

You froze.

It was such a simple action, something so natural, and yet your brain short-circuited for a second too long.

Jake, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed. “There. All good.”

You blinked at him. “You could’ve just told me.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” he teased, popping a bit of sugar-covered dough into his mouth like nothing happened.

You exhaled, shaking your head with a laugh as you kept walking, pretending your heart wasn’t suddenly hammering in your chest.

When you and Jake made it back to the ride, the others were mid-flight, getting tossed around like rag dolls. You both stood at the base, watching as Kazuha’s scream pierced through the air, while Jay, next to her, looked like he was regretting every life choice that had led him there. The ride finally came to a halt and your friends stumbled out, looking various levels of disheveled. Sakura’s hair was windswept, K was holding onto her for balance, and Heeseung’s face had gone a little pale.

Chaewon spotted you immediately, her eyes zeroing in on the plush dog. “Well, well, what do we have here?” She smirked, poking the dog’s nose. “Did Jakeyboy win you a prize?”

You held the dog protectively to your chest, shooting her a mock glare. “Don’t insult our child.”

Chaewon burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Your child? Hey guys, look! Y/N and Jake had a baby!”

Sunghoon grinned. “Wow, congrats on the new addition!”

Kazuha smirked, leaning over to get a better look at the plushy. “What’s its name?”

You rolled your eyes, playing along. “Sir Fluffington the Third.”

Jake snorted, nodding seriously. “Yeah, it was a tough labor, but we pulled through.”

The whole group erupted into laughter, and even though your cheeks were burning, you couldn’t help but laugh along. 

As the teasing about "Sir Fluffington the Third" died down, Chaewon suddenly grabbed your arm and tugged you a few steps away from the group.

“So.”, she said and hooked her arm into yours. “You and Jake, huh?”

You furrowed your brows. “What about me and Jake?”

“What do you mean what about the two of you.?” Chaewon swung your connected arms slightly as the two of you walked. “You two have been getting pretty close lately.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re just friends.”

“Mm-hmm.” She hummed, clearly unconvinced. “That’s why he won Mr. Fluffington the third just now. Because you are just friends.”

You scoffed. “I think I’d know if there was something more than friendship going on between the two of us.”

Chaewon stopped in her tracks, turning to face you with an amused expression. “Would you, though? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like everyone else already knows except you.”

Her words made you pause. You and Jake had become pretty comfortable with each other. And you really enjoyed spending time with him. But that didn’t mean– Did it?

Chaewon grinned at your silence. “See? Told you.”

“Even if there was something between us, there is no chance that his dad would let him date me.” You swallowed hard, forcing a shrug. “Their relationship is… strained, and it makes things complicated. It’s not as simple as just asking each other out.”

Chaewon’s face softened. “Oh.” She paused. “I didn’t know. I am sorry Y/N.”

You nodded, relieved she accepted that answer without pushing for more. 

Chaewon nudged you lightly. “So, what? You guys are just dancing around each other, until his daddy gives you the yes?”

You let out a short laugh. “No. There is really nothing between Jake and me. We are just friends. I would have told you if it was more.”

Oh if she only knew.

Your group had unanimously decided that the Ferris wheel would be the last ride of the evening. It was almost midnight, and most of the festival-goers had already trickled out, leaving behind clusters of drunk students squeezing in one last round of fun.

You stood at the back of the line, chatting absentmindedly with Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon as the line moved forward. You were just about to follow Jay into the gondola he and Sunghoon were sitting down in when the ride operator suddenly stopped you and Jake.

“Sorry, you’ll have to take the next one,” the worker said, lowering his hand before either of you could step into the gondola.

Jay shot Jake a look so obvious you almost groaned out loud.

He didn’t even need to say anything. You knew what was happening here. 

With an exhausted sigh, you took a step back, standing beside Jake. The doors locked with a metallic clink, and you watched as it slowly ascended, leaving the two of you stranded on the platform.

The silence stretched between you until the next gondola arrived.

As the Ferris wheel lurched back into motion, you slid into the seat across from Jake, stretching your legs out slightly. Jake, however, rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, before blurting out, “So… Jay wants me to ask you if you wanna be my girlfriend. Like, right here. Right now.”

You let out an exaggerated groan, throwing your head back. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. We would have absolutely fit into their gondola. Man, your friends are so noisy, Jake, it's unbelievable.”

Jake tilted his head, feigning innocence. “You mean they orchestrated this?”

“A hundred percent.” You shot him an exasperated look. “Chaewon also pulled me aside earlier, asking me what we have going on.’”

Jake snorted, shaking his head. “So, let’s do it then.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shrugged, switching seats so that he was next to you instead of across. The shift made the gondola sway slightly, and suddenly, the space between you felt a lot smaller. “Let’s just tell them I asked you. That I had this whole speech about how my dad doesn’t matter and how I love you and shit. I mean we at least know now that we do look realistic.” His voice was casual, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he leaned back against the seat, turning his gaze to the lights below.

You let out a dry laugh. “Oh, of course. And then I started crying and dramatically said yes?”

“I mean, you could cry. Would add to the believability.”

You huffed out a laugh, nudging his leg with yours. “Pretty sure I wouldn't cry over that, Jakeyboy.”

He smirked, but before he could respond, he jolted his chin toward something outside the window. You followed his gaze and, sure enough, saw Jay and Sunghoon’s gondola creeping up alongside yours at just the right angle to peer into yours.

“They’re watching,” Jake muttered.

A wicked idea bloomed in your mind. You turned back to him, voice laced with mischief. “Should we give them a show then?”

Jake blinked. “What do you mean?”

You tilted your head slightly, observing the way the carnival lights flickered in his dark eyes. He looked—annoyingly good, if you were being honest. Soft strands of hair fell over his forehead, and the warm glow of the Ferris wheel cast a golden hue over his features.

“Let’s kiss, Jake. If you were to really confess we would definitely kiss.”

The words left your lips before you could think twice about them.

Jake visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes flickered from yours to your lips, then back up. “You think this is a situation that requires it?” His voice was quieter now, a little breathless.

Your heart gave an unexpected lurch.

“This is a situation that demands it.” you corrected, ignoring the way your pulse thrummed in your ears.

You didn’t give yourself time to hesitate. You scooted closer, closing the space between you, and slowly lifted your hand to his cheek. You half-expected him to pull back, to laugh it off and tell you to stop being ridiculous. But instead Jake moved. He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you, and his hand lifted – hesitant at first – before settling against your jaw, his thumb brushing featherlight against your cheek. The warmth of his palm sent a strange shiver down your spine, rooting you in place as his lips met yours.

It was supposed to be just a kiss. Nothing more.

But the second his lips moved against yours, something in you faltered.

You had forgotten what kissing felt like. Or maybe, you had just forgotten what it felt like to kiss someone like this. Maybe you just also never have been kissed like this. 

Jake’s lips were warm, softer than you expected, pressing against yours with a kind of cautious certainty. His fingers curled slightly where they rested against your face, his touch sending a slow, unfamiliar heat creeping up your neck.

You didn’t even realize you had leaned into him until the gondola creaked slightly, shifting under the movement. Your fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of his jacket, pulling ever so slightly.

And for a fleeting moment, the world outside the small metal cabin disappeared.

No carnival. No friends watching from another gondola. Just the feeling of his mouth slanting over yours, his thumb tracing absentminded circles into your cheek.

Your lips still tingled when you pulled back. Your breath came just a little too fast.

Jake swallowed, his hand slipping from your face as if he had just realized where it had been. His eyes flickered across your face, lingering for a second too long on your lips before he cleared his throat.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The distant sound of the carnival buzzed around you, and the Ferris wheel continued its slow rotation.

You swallowed, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Jake couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, it’s definitely... uh, not something I thought I’d be doing today.”

Your brain still felt scrambled.

“So was that a yes to my proposal to be my fake girlfriend until the wedding?”, Jake nudged your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes and hit him with Sir Fluffingtin the Third. “Go fuck yourself Sim.”

He shook his head and said with a serious expression. “Y/N, we already had that conversation. I need another person for missionary!”

You snorted and hit him again. “You are such a looser, Jakeyboy. But yeah if we can convince the others that we are unbelievably in love with each other until the wedding in two weeks then your dad should believe us as well, right?”

“I hope so.”, his gaze flickered back to Jake and Sunghoons gondola. 

When your gondola finally came to a halt, you took the chance to breathe, pushing the strange tension aside as you stepped out. The second your feet hit the ground, you felt like you had just snapped back to reality. Jake was right behind you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket as you rejoined your friends.

Jay and Sunghoon were waiting and from the way their eyes flicked between you and Jake, they were definitely hoping for a post-ride recap.

You shot them a tight-lipped smile—the universal signal for don’t ask—before slipping away to where Kazuha and Yunjin were waiting.

The moment they stepped through the front door, Jake barely had time to kick off his shoes before Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon practically ambushed him “Alright,” Jay started, crossing his arms. “Talk.” “What?” Jake scoffed, trying to walk past them, but Heeseung blocked his path. “You know what,” Sunghoon drawled, leaning against the wall with an all-too-knowing smirk. “We saw you.” Jake’s stomach dropped. “Saw what?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Dude, the kiss.” Jake opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. His brain was still partly fired. Jay clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder, grinning. “So? You finally asked her out?” Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He knew this was coming. He prepared for this. But still, something about the way they were all looking at him made him… hesitate. “Yeah,” he said finally, keeping his voice even. “I did.”

Sunghoon let out a sharp whistle. “About damn time." Jake forced a chuckle, even as something inside him twisted uncomfortably. “Yeah, yeah.” Heeseung nudged him. “So what did she say?” “She said yes.” The words felt strange on his tongue. Like a half-truth. Because technically you did say yes—just not in the way they all thought.

Jay grinned, shaking his head. “Man, I knew it. I knew she’d say yes.” Jake stiffened. “What?” “Come on,” Jay scoffed. “It’s so obvious. This girl looks at you with hearts in her eyes. The way the two act around each other is almost disgusting, Jakeyboy.” Jake swallowed and Jay narrowed his eyes. “Alright, walk us through it. What did you say?”

Jake exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… what do people usually say? I told her I liked her, and that I wanted us to be together.” It wasn’t technically a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth. Heeseung hummed, clearly unsatisfied. “And what did she say?” Jake shrugged, trying to play it off. “She said yes." Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just ‘yes’?”

Jake scoffed. “What, you want a full transcript?”

Jay grinned. “Yes, actually.”

Jake groaned, pushing past them to collapse onto the couch, but they all followed.

“Okay, fine.” He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers. “She said she already knew you guys were orchestrating the whole thing and that it was really obvious.”

Jay smirked proudly. “You’re welcome.”

Jake rolled his eyes but continued. “And then I said something about how my dad doesn’t matter, and how I like her and all that.”

Sunghoon squinted. “Do you like her?”

Jake blinked. “I mean, yeah? I wouldn’t be dating her if I didn’t.”

That seemed to satisfy them for a second, but then Jay continued.

“And the kiss?”

Jake stiffened, suddenly hyperaware of the phantom feeling of your lips still lingering on his.

“What about it?”

Jay scoffed. “Dude, come on. How did it feel?”

Jake hesitated, searching for the right words, but the only thing that came out was, “…Good?”

Sunghoon snorted. “That’s it? Just ‘good’?”

Jake groaned, running a hand down his face. “What do you want me to say? It was nice, okay?”

Later that night, Jake lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts an absolute mess. What the actual fuck was happening? How did you agreeing to be his fake date for your exes weeding escalate into him being your “officially” your boyfriend in front of all your friends. Now, he had to keep up the act every time someone was around.  Jake exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. He was completely and utterly fucked. Because now he knew how your lips felt against his, how they tasted faintly like the sweet funnel cake and cigarettes, how your fingers skimmed over his skin so lightly it sent a shiver down his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stop replaying it over and over again. It wasn’t supposed to feel like that. It wasn’t supposed to leave him breathless, heart racing, craving more even after you had pulled away. This was supposed to be fake. 

It was supposed to be just for show, something to sell the act. But the second you had gotten close, the moment your fingers ghosted over his cheek, he had completely forgotten about the act. He had forgotten everything except how warm your lips were against his, how effortlessly you fit against him, how badly he wanted to pull you even closer. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Jake turned onto his side, gripping his pillow like it would somehow help him make sense of this. Pretending for a weekend? Doable. Pretending in front of your friends? A little more complicated, but still manageable. But pretending to himself? That was a whole different problem. So why the hell did it feel so real?

Not even 24 hours later the reason why everything had to at least look real called him.  Jake was toweling off his hair when his phone rang. He sighed and stared at the screen for a second before answering. “Jake.” His father’s voice was clipped, businesslike. “I’ve been looking into this Y/N girl.” Jake’s stomach dropped. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course, you have.” “I have to say, I’m not convinced she’s a good fit for you. Jake clenched his jaw. “And what exactly does that mean?” “She doesn’t… carry herself the way I expected,” his father continued. “Her parents might be working as doctors but she-” He exhaled sharply, like the conversation itself was tedious. “She is not exactly what people will expect from you.” Jake’s grip tightened around the phone. God forbid he date someone who doesn’t look like she walked out of a country club. “Not everything is about appearances,” Jake muttered, rolling his eyes so hard he was surprised he didn’t get a HD view of his brain. “I don’t know if this is the right choice for you.”

Jake gritted his teeth. “It’s not a choice. “Isn’t it? Do you think she is a good fit for you?”  Jake’s stomach twisted. What the hell does that mean? He wanted to ask, but he already knew he wouldn’t get an answer. His father was careful with his words, always just vague enough to sound concerned rather than cruel. But Jake knew what he meant. She’s not good enough.  Jake’s fingers dug into the fabric of the towel. His father continued. “You’ll be bringing her to a wedding where people will talk, Jake. You need to think about what that means. For you. For us.” Jake squeezed his eyes shut. This was exactly why he even considered the whole fake dating thing in the first place. To get his father off his damn back. But instead, he was just under even more scrutiny. Jake’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He wanted to tell his father to shut up, to fuck off, but instead, the words that came out were:

“I love her.” Silence. Jake could hear his own breathing, too loud in his ears. Where the hell did that come from?

His chest felt tight, his own words echoing in his head. But the moment they left his mouth, he knew. He knew. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t saying it just to shut his father up. He wanted to mean it. His father finally spoke, voice unreadable. “Do you?” Jake swallowed. Yeah. Yeah, he did. It was terrifying. It was also the easiest truth he’d ever admitted. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse. Another pause. Then— “I hope, for your sake, that’s true.” And then the line went dead.

Jake stared at the screen, still gripping his phone, heart pounding in his ears. He had just told his father–of all people–that he loved you. And the worst part? He wanted to tell you too.

It had been almost 2 AM when your phone buzzed next to you, pulling you out of a deep sleep. Groggy, you reached over, squinting at the screen. Jake’s name flashed in the dim light. You rubbed your eyes and blinked, half-asleep.

Jakeyboy Are you awake?

You smiled a little, even though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to be awake right now.

You Yes, now i am. What's up?

A beat passed, then another text came through almost immediately.

Jakeyboy Do you wanna get ice cream? At the GS25 in front of the campus

You frowned, pulling yourself out of bed. You glanced at the clock. 1:47 AM – well, there was no way you were going back to sleep now. You threw on a hoodie, grabbed your phone, and slid your feet into a random pair pajama pants. Your hair was still braided, messy from the day, but you didn’t care.  The GS25 was halfway between your dorm and his, and when you got there, you spotted him sitting on the curb already. He looked up when you approached, his eyes lighting up just a little bit. A small smile curled onto his lips. “You look cute,” Jake said, his gaze scanning over you with an easy affection. Your heart fluttered, but then you looked down at your pajamas and felt a little self-conscious. You couldn't help it. “Thanks,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling awkward about your unkempt appearance. Jake noticed the shift in your mood right away. “Hey, don’t do that. You really do look cute. I mean it.”

You tried to brush it off, offering him a small smile. “I’m just wearing pajamas.” “Well, pajamas look good on you,” he said casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You felt a little warmer at that. You both went inside and bought ice cream, then sat outside in front of the store. The cool air stung your skin, but it felt good, somehow. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling comfortable, though the silence between you felt oddly thick tonight. Finally, Jake broke it. “My dad called,” he said suddenly, his voice a little tight. You pulled your head away slightly, looking at him, concerned. “What did he want?”

Jake didn’t meet your eyes, and you could see the way his jaw tightened. “He basically told me that he thinks you aren’t a good match for me.” He waved vaguely, his voice was tight, like he was swallowing frustration. “He was like ‘I expect the best out of her’. He expects you to be perfect, so that for the media we can play the picture perfect couple and family and shit. I hate it so much Y/N." Your heart sank. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him it wasn’t right, that he didn’t deserve that kind of pressure. But you didn’t know how to begin. Jake let out a bitter laugh. “Honestly, I don’t care. I’m just so tired of hearing it. I don’t want to be what he wants. I want to do what I want.”  It wasn’t fair, what his dad was putting him through. It wasn’t fair to expect Jake to conform to someone else’s vision of what his life should look like. Your voice was softer than you wanted it to be. “Jake, I—" He cut you off before you could finish. “I’m just saying, it’s not like this is all pretend. I mean... I really like you. You are one of my closest friends right now. You know that, right? And I don’t want him to actually hurt you when you meet at the wedding. He is going to be an asshole to you.” 'One of my closest friends' Somehow that stung a bit but you couldn’t help but feel touched by how much Jake seemed to care about protecting you, even in this mess of a situation. But the more you thought about it, the more confused you got.  Him saying you were a friend coudln't sting. It shouldn't.

"I get it." you said after a moment, trying to sound lighthearted. “It’s all good. You don’t have to worry about it. I am a big girl, Jake. If he talks shit to me i will politely talk shit back at him." Jake didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he dropped the subject. You both sat in the silence for a while, eating your ice cream.  “Jake…” you started, biting your lip. “What was your childhood like? You don’t have to tell me, but… I guess I never really asked and you tend to not talk about it.” Jake was quiet for a long time. So long that you almost regretted asking. Then, finally, he spoke. “I spent most of my time with my uncle,” he said quietly, his gaze distant. “He was the only one who actually cared about what I wanted. I think… I think he’s the reason I still have a little faith in family. He’s the reason I got into hockey and he convinced my Mom to convince my dad. He was always supportive. My mom is too, but sometimes I feel like her focus is more on Joshua than on me.” You could feel your heart ache at the vulnerability in his words, and you nodded slowly. “That’s really nice. I’m glad you had him. He seemed nice.” Jake smiled faintly. “Yeah. I love him a lot.” He paused, eyes drifting to the side for a moment. “I had a good childhood, overall. Just... complicated sometimes. But, I guess that’s kind of everyone’s story, right?”

You hesitated again, your fingers gently touching the edge of his hand. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter. “I think everyone’s got their own stuff they’re working through." Jake was silent again. You got up and tossed your trash into a bin nearby, giving him a moment to just think. When you sat down he put his head onto your shoulder. It had to be uncomfortable for him but he carefully took one of your hands, playing with your fingers. He almost startled you when he started talking again. “I never loved Sophia.”

You stilled. “I thought I did, at the time. Or well I wanted to.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “But looking back… I never felt all that shit people talk about. The butterflies, the excitement, the–whatever it is that makes people fall in love.” You didn’t say anything. You just let him talk. “I started dating her because I knew my dad would like it,” he admitted, his voice laced with something bitter. “And she liked the attention. We looked good together, so it just… made sense. My friends teased me about it, and I thought, ‘Maybe this isn’t stupid.’ Maybe it would shut my dad up for a second.” Jake exhaled, staring down at your hands and softly closed his fingers around yours. “But it was never real. Not for either of us. She liked the image. I liked the approval.” He let out a dry laugh. “She was still my first everything, though. First kiss, first… all of it.” He swallowed. “And then she cheated. With her best friend’s boyfriend.” Your heart clenched. You weren't sure what hurt you more back then. Sophia or Maruc's betrail. “You told me when you found out.” His voice was quiet now, distant. “And when I confronted her, she wasn’t even really guilty. She just… looked at me and said, ‘You knew this wasn’t real, Jake. We both did. And you know the worst part?” He lifted his head rom your shoulder and finally met your gaze. “My dad blamed me. He said it was my fault she strayed. That if I’d been a better boyfriend, if I had been more–” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. You’d known his dad was awful, but this–this was worse than you expected. It was cruel. It was disgusting. Jake had been a kid, figuring things out, and his father had just used it as another way to tear him down. Another way to remind him he’d never be enough. “That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice thick. You felt an ache in your throat, something dangerously close to anger. “That’s not fair to you at all.” Jake blinked, like he wasn’t used to hearing those words, and his brow furrowed in confusion, as if he didn’t understand why you were so upset for him. You tightened your grip. “You didn’t deserve that, Jake.” God, he really hadn’t. He was kind, funny, a little cocky but never mean. And he had spent his whole life trying to meet impossible expectations that only left him feeling like he was failing.

It was quiet for a long moment before you spoke again. "When I found out that they were sleeping with each other I felt my world collapse. Suddenly nothing made sense anymore. Marcus was my first too, in everything.", you focused your gaze on your intertwined fingers, softly squeezing his hand. "Sophia was what I thought was my best friend. I told her everything and I followed both of them like a little duckling." You chuckled bitterly. "I was so swooned by their world. Being rich and influential. Going to all these cool events. I didn't even realize that I hated every second of it. I did so many...things with Marcus that I am not proud of. Most of the stuff I really didn't want to do but I was young, stupid and I think I was in love. Those stupid butterflies betrayed me. I should have never been excited for anything I did with that asshat, but I was and in the end I was the one heartbroken."

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head again. "So I don't really think you missed out on much. At least you didn't get your herat broken in millions of pieces. " As as soon as the words left your mouth, you saw Jake’s face soften in a way that made your chest tighten. His eyes were fixed on you. He shifted slightly, leaning closer, and his voice was lower, gentler. “Wait... Y/N, what... what kind of things?” There was a pause, and you could hear the worry in his voice. “What did he make you do?” You blinked at him, caught off guard by the tenderness in his question.  You didn’t want to get into all of it – not with him, not now. You really wanted to leave the past in the past. So gave him a small, reassuring smile, though it was laced with a hint of sarcasm. “Nothing too crazy, Jake. Just... stupid stuff that I let myself be talked into because I thought I had to, you know? Smoking, drinking, sex when I didn’t even want to.” You shrugged, trying to keep the conversation light despite how heavy it really felt and focused your gaze on the streetlamp on the opposite side of the street. “Just... young, dumb, and in love.” "You didn’t deserve any of that," Jake murmured, his voice tight. His hand, still gently holding yours, gave you a small squeeze. “You deserve someone who sees you as more than a way to impress their friends or boost their image.” You wanted to say something lighthearted, to push this conversation into a safer territory, but for once, you didn’t have it in you. You just nodded, your fingers tightening slightly around his.

“I’m sorry,” he added quietly, almost to himself, as if he was blaming himself for not being there for you sooner. You felt your heart soften at his words, and you smiled faintly, squeezing his hand back. "Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, Jake." You paused for a moment, then added with a light chuckle, “Besides, I'm not a delicate little thing. I’m fine." Jake sighed, his hand resting on his lap now, still close to yours. “I just... I hate that you went through all that. You didn’t deserve any of it. You deserve better.” His voice softened and you could feel those traitors in your stomach. Those stupid little butterflies whose only goal was to make you unhappy. "It's fine. Really. I didn't tell you this to make you worry about me. I just wanted to show you that you haven't missed out by not feeling all the things people feel when they are in love. Most of the time those nice feelings disappear and not so nice ones take their place. You were spared by not being in love with Sophia.", you chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder again. Trying to ignore your butterflies and all those things people feel when they were in love. You couldn't fall for Jake. You never wanted to feel the pain you felt when you saw Marcus and Sophia in his bed and everything that came after ever again.

The bar the team was celebrating their win in was busy, but not unbearably so. It wasn’t loud enough to be overwhelming, but still just enough to make your head ache slightly.  You sat next to Jake in your usual spot, both of you nursing beers, though neither of you were drinking fast enough to actually feel it. His arm rested lazily around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against your sweater. You leaned into his side, letting his warmth seep into you, but it didn’t do much to shake the heaviness pressing down on you. Your mind kept drifting back to earlier in the day. You had been fine during the lab, steady hands and a clear mind as you did what had to be done. It was routine, nothing you hadn’t done before. Usually, you could detach. Today, you couldn’t. You and four other students were working on the body with respect and professionality. But as you peeled back the skin and bone, carefully exposing the delicate folds of the young boys brain, you felt nauseous. 

Jake shifted beside you. “You good?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear over the bar noise. You exhaled through your nose, nodding automatically. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” Jake studied your face for a second longer. You gave him a weak smile and his fingers pausing against your shoulder. He squeezed your arm gently before taking another sip of his drink.

You were half heartedly listening and laughing along to what Beomgyu was telling Jake but your thoughts were still elsewhere. You knew the profession you chose was gruesome. Your parents had tried to prepare you for it, making you sit through forensic classes, pushing you to talk to actual forensic anthropologists, hoping you’d reconsider. But you were stubborn. You applied to every university that offered a forensic anthropology major, determined to prove that this was what you wanted.  And it was. You loved it. All of it. Well, almost all of it. Because sometimes, especially when you were handling kids, or what was left of them, you were forced to remember exactly what you were doing. Those young boys and girls, long gone, their skin cold, the smell of formaldehyde replacing what should’ve been Axe body spray or cheap drugstore perfume. Faces stripped of emotion, of laughter, of life. They had futures, or at least, they should have. They should have had years ahead of them, chances to grow up, to fall in love, to make mistakes. But instead, a single accident, an illness, or worse, a person had taken that from them. 

It made you appreciate your own life more. Made you hyper-aware of how fragile it all was. And yet, what were you doing with that awareness? You were fake dating someone. To appease his father.

In some way, weren’t you just wasting his time? Wasting your own? Time that could be spent with someone who would actually be there in the long run. Someone to grow old with. To adopt a real Sir Fluffington the Third, to plan holidays, to talk about kids, to buy a home together. Someone to come home to. Someone to share the weight of days like this. Your brain, unprompted and entirely unhelpful, supplied you with a picture. Jake. Or rather, an older version of him. The thought startled you, so sudden and so vivid that you nearly flinched.

Jake?

Why was it Jake?

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he laughed at whatever Beomgyu had just said. He wasn’t yours. He wasn’t meant to be yours. And yet, your brain had conjured up a version of him standing in a kitchen with you, handing you a mug of coffee in the morning, smiling at you like you were his favorite thing in the world. You shook the thought off. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything. You suddenly felt a bit like you were suffocating, the warmth of the bar, the buzz of conversation, even the way Jake was still absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve. “I’m gonna go for a smoke,” you murmured, barely loud enough for Jake to hear over the bar’s noise.

Jake glanced down at you immediately. “Want me to come with you?” You shook your head. “No, it’s fine.” His brows pulled together, just for a second, before smoothing out again.  And because, apparently, this was a thing you did now, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. You weren’t sure when it had started, exactly. In the week since the kiss until now you and Jake really leaned into the whole couply stuff, being a bit more touchy with each other. He was always touching you in some way, his arm around your waist, his hand on your lower back, his fingers brushing against yours absentmindedly. It was all too easy to let yourself get used to it.

Maybe it was necessary, given that in just two weeks, you’d be standing beside him at that god forsaken wedding, playing the part of a couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. To get his father off his case and to give a huge fuck you to your exes. You really hated his father. That man didn’t deserve Jake's respect and you have told Jake as much. since that one conversion at the GS25 you never missed any of his games. You send  him stupid memes or small messages to motivate him to win, to show him you were there to support him. And it worked until now. Not a single game lost. You’ve bought him so much food and pastries as congratulation gifts that you were glad he did as much sport as he did. Else he would probably be a bit round.  

But right now, you needed some distance. You needed air. And you needed a cigarette. Jake hated to see you smoking. So before he could change his mind and follow, before you could second-guess yourself, you turned and slipped outside. The night air was crisp, cutting through the warmth that still clung to your skin from inside the bar. You tilted your head back, staring at the sky, letting your eyes trace the constellations.

Life was so fucking fragile. You had known that for a long time, logically, clinically. It was something you studied, something you understood down to the very bones of it.  But today, it felt different. Today, you peeled back a boy’s forehead, carefully extracted the thing that made him who he was, and for the first time in a long time, it had rattled you. It made you want to scream. Because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that someone so small, so young, could just be… gone. Reduced to an object on a table. A case file. A lesson. Your fingers twitched as you pulled a cigarette from your pocket, lighting it with practiced ease. The first inhale burned. It didn’t fix anything, didn’t quiet the thoughts clawing at your mind, but for a fleeting moment, it gave you something to focus on. The nicotine settled in your system, a dull sort of relief, just enough to take the edge off.

You needed to quit. You knew that. You had been saying it for years, but every time you thought about stopping, you hesitated. The craving wasn’t even the worst part. It was the way the cigarette felt like a pause button, a moment of stillness in the middle of everything. It was a shitty habit, and Jake hated it. He made that clear every time he caught you. You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl toward the stars.

“You know he hates it when you do that.” The voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see Jay stepping outside, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Your heart was still beating a little too fast from the surprise, but you scoffed, bringing the cigarette back to your lips. “You gonna give me shit about it too?” Jay shrugged, finally turning his gaze to you. “Nah. Just an observation.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, well. He’ll live.” Jay hummed, stepping closer. He leaned against the wall beside you, his eyes searching your face. “You’re quiet today.” You hesitated. The cigarette burned between your fingers, the nicotine was already settling into your bloodstream. You forced a small smile, tilting your head slightly as you took another drag.  “Just tired,” you said. “Long day.” You flicked the ash onto the pavement, watching it disappear into the cracks. 

Jay didn’t look convinced. His eyes lingered on your face, searching, and for a second, you thought he might call you out on the obvious deflection. It was annoying how good he was at reading people. At reading you. “Y/N-” “I’m fine, Jay,” you interrupted gently, offering him a softer smile this time. “Really.” He didn’t move, didn’t say anything right away. Over the last two months you had gotten close to Jay, through all the hours spent at the rink, at team dinners, at their dorm, at bars just like this one. And somewhere along the way, between all the forced proximity and the nights spent orbiting the same friend group, you and Jay had grown close too. Not in the same way you were with Jake, but close enough that he could read you just as well. Maybe even better.

That was the problem. Jay studied you, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. “Did you tell Jake?” You exhaled, watching the smoke curl upward, disappearing into the night. “No,” you admitted, flicking ash onto the pavement. Jay made a sound, something between disbelief and exasperation. “Dude.” You sighed, bracing yourself. “I don’t want to worry him." Jay let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “That’s not how this works, Y/N.”

You glanced at him, catching the way his brows had pulled together, the tension in his jaw. He wasn’t angry, Jay never really got angry, but he was frustrated. You’ve spent almost a whole night talking to him, when the two of you decided to stay sober and watch over your friends. You told him there that you really hated doing that. Worrying people with your problems. Life was too short to worry, especially over problems that aren’t your own. “I’m fine,” you said, lighter this time, as if saying it enough would make it true. Jay’s gaze didn’t waver. “You don’t have to do that, you know.” “Do what?” “Pretend,” he said simply. “Not with me. Not with him. Especially not with Jake.” Something in your chest tightened, the words settling uncomfortably in your stomach. You swallowed, looking away. If Jay only knew. “It’s not a big deal.” Jay sighed again, lingering for another second like he wanted to say something else. But then he just shook his head and pushed off the wall. “Try not to take the whole pack down with you,” he muttered as he turned toward the door. You let out a quiet laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No promises.”

And then he was gone, the bar swallowing him whole. You stood there for another moment, the weight of his words pressing heavy against your ribs. And then, before you could stop yourself, you reached for another cigarette.

Jake was half-listening to Beomgyu and Soobin talking about a recent Eagles game when Jay slid back into their booth, leaning in close. “You need to talk to Y/N,” Jay murmured, voice low. “Something’s off with her. She wouldn’t tell me what’s up, so maybe you can use your boyfriend privileges to get her to talk?” Jake furrowed his brow, staring at Jay for a beat. He had noticed it too, how quiet you have been all night, how you lingered closer to him than usual. But he also knew you. He knew you hated worrying people with your problems. If he asked outright, you’d probably brush it off. You’d talk when you were ready. You always did. He figured something must have happened in the lab. Some cases were harder to stomach than others, and sometimes, the weight of what you learned stuck with you for a while. When that happened, you liked to process it alone.

But despite whatever was on your mind you still showed up for him. You always did. You had come to every home game for the past few weeks, watching from the stands like his own personal lucky charm. Jake hadn’t played a single bad game since you started watching. “I know,” he murmured, voice quieter than intended. “She’ll come to me if she wants to.” Jay didn’t say anything more. He just gave Jake a look that said he was doubting that and switched topic. A few minutes later, Jake flinched when cold fingers brushed against his arm. He turned quickly, half-hoping, half-knowing it was you. It was. You squeezed yourself back into the booth beside him, settling into your usual spot. Instinctively, his gaze swept over you.

You looked tired.

He felt bad that you were here. He knew Fridays were busy days for you. And yet, you still made time to come to his games and stick around for the post-game hangouts. The fact that you showed up, no matter how exhausted you were, meant more to him than he could put into words. When your eyes met his, something flickered across your face—an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “You good?” His voice came out softer than he meant, but it was the only thing he could think to say. You held his gaze for a second before offering a small, fleeting smile. “Yeah,” you murmured. “All good.”

Jake didn’t believe that for a second. But he didn’t push. Instead, he pulled you closer, tucking you against his side. His arm curled around your waist, holding you a little tighter than necessary. As Beomgyu and Jay started talking about an upcoming swim competition, Jake found his focus drifting. You shifted slightly in his hold, resting your head against his chest, and his thumb absently traced small patterns against your side. He took a slow breath and immediately scrunched his nose. The sharp scent of secondhand smoke clung to your hair.

He leaned forward slightly, lips almost brushing the shell of your ear. “You smell like smoke.” You sighed, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. There was something unreadable in your expression. Jake held your stare, his fingers tightening just slightly at your waist, trying to get you to stay here with him, to relax–even if just a little. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I was outside.”

Jake hummed, debating whether or not to scold you. He knew smoking wasn’t an everyday habit for you, but you tended to smoke whenever you were stressed or something was troubling you. He didn’t want to lecture you. Not right now. But then, before he could stop himself, his lips parted. “You should quit,” he said quietly. You looked away.  “I know,” you muttered, voice distant again. Jake exhaled softly, letting the moment settle. He wanted to say something else, to get you to open up, to tell him what was wrong, but before he could, Jay’s voice cut through the conversation again.

The night carried on, the noise of the bar a comfortable hum in the background, but Jake barely heard it. His focus had narrowed down to the warmth of you against his side, the way your body naturally leaned into his like it belonged there. Jay was saying something–laughing about something–but Jake wasn’t really listening. His attention flickered to you every few seconds, studying the way your fingers idly traced the rim of your glass, how you bit down on the inside of your cheek when you were lost in thought. Then the song changed. Finesse by Bruno Mars blasted through the speakers. The second the first beat hit, Jake felt his stomach twist. A chorus of cheers and drunken excitement filled the bar immediately, a wave of energy that swept through the room. It was a tradition, one that had been in place long before Jake joined the DA hockey team. Every time Finesse played, all the hockey players were expected to kiss their lovers. People made their way through the bar, searching for their partners.

"Fellas, grab your ladies if your lady fine." Jake’s grip tightened on your waist ever so slightly. It would probably look weird if he didn't kiss his girlfriend. He hesitated for only a second before he leaned in, letting his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “It’d be weird if I didn’t, right?” You barely had time to react before he leaned in, slow and careful, like he was giving you a chance to stop him. But you didn’t. And something in him faltered at the absence of any hesitation on your part. 

His nose grazed against yours for a brief moment before his lips met yours. Soft and deliberate. It was gentle at first, almost as if he asked for permission again, and when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it slightly. His body responded without thought, the tequila on his tongue mixing with the faint taste of your cigarette from earlier. His hand slid down from your jaw to your throat, feeling the soft pulse there.

You shivered, and fuck.  That reaction alone had something deep in him stirring. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy this as much as he did. And yet, the second you melted into him, Jake felt something he’d never felt before. His stomach flipped, his chest felt too tight, and for the first time in his life, he understood what people meant when they said a kiss could leave you breathless.

When his hand traced down the curve of your spine, when his fingertips barely skimmed your skin through your thin shirt and you shuddered beneath his touch, he felt a rush of something hot and heady curl low in his stomach. So he did it again. Slower this time. Letting his fingers linger, tracing back up, taking his time. Another shiver. Another sharp inhale. Jake felt a stupid, giddy grin threaten to break through. Butterflies. He actually felt fucking butterflies.  Every little thing he did, every touch, every movement–he could feel it in the way your body leaned into his, how your breath stuttered against his lips.

He was fascinated. Completely and utterly hooked on the way he could pull those reactions from you with barely any effort. That realization alone made something snap inside him. He slid his hand back up your spine, fingers pressing into the nape of your neck, and the way you shuddered again had his breath catching in his throat. You melted into him, and it felt too easy. Too good. 

God, he was an idiot. Jake pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. He could feel your breath against his lips. “Please stop smoking. It’ll kill you.” The words were out before he could stop them, and he immediately regretted saying it. The seriousness in his voice didn’t feel right for the moment, but he couldn't help himself. He hated that you smoked. You looked up at him, and for a brief second, he thought he saw something shift in your eyes, something that made his chest tighten. His hand, still on your waist, slowly lifted, and he gave you space to push him away. But you didn’t. Your gaze met his, and he found himself unable to look away.

Shit, this was all kinds of messed up. Jake’s heart raced. He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore, but he knew that in this moment, with your eyes locked on his, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be close to you, to feel the warmth of you, to drown out everything else in the world. Slowly, he lifted his hand again, this time cupping your jaw with his palm, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. His breath was shallow, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. 

His fingers curled at the nape of your neck, thumb grazing the edge of your jaw. He didn’t think. He just acted, pulling you into another kiss. He had kissed plenty of people before, but never once had it felt like this. Never once had it knocked the breath straight from his lungs, left his brain foggy and his chest aching with something unnameable. The kiss was slower. More deliberate. He kissed you like he wanted to learn you, like he wanted to savor every second, every movement of your lips against his. He deepened it just slightly, exhaling softly as he swallowed the small noise you made. 

You didn’t move away, didn’t push him off. Instead, you kissed him back just as slowly, just as deliberately. His thumb brushed your cheek again, slower this time, like he couldn’t help himself. And he really, really couldn’t. Your lips parted slightly, just enough for him to taste more of you, and fuck, he was done for. His chest felt too light, his stomach too full of something fluttery and warm. It was embarrassing, really. He was an athlete, a grown-ass man, and yet here he was, feeling like some love-struck kid who just got his first real kiss. He could’ve kept going. He wanted to keep going. His forehead rested against yours as he exhaled, trying to steady himself, trying to pull himself out of whatever the hell this was becoming.

Jake barely noticed Beomgyu approaching, barely heard whatever the hell his teammate was saying, because he was too busy trying to make sense of what just happened. Then, like nothing had happened, he was forced to turn away, to let go, to pretend. But even as the bar filled with noise again, even as he forced a grin and let himself fall back into easy conversation with Jay, the feeling of your lips still lingered against his. And worse? The breathless, giddy feeling still hadn’t left. And he knew, without a doubt, that he was in deep, deep trouble.

Your apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside and the occasional creak of the building. Your bed was cramped, barely big enough for the two of you, but that was the least of your concerns. The heat from Jake’s body pressed against your back, his arms around you pulling you into his warmth, but you couldn’t seem to shake the cold feeling that had settled deep in your chest. You had thought that after a long walk, after getting tucked into bed, maybe you’d be able to sleep. But sleep wasn’t coming tonight.  Your thoughts circled around that damn brain, the weight of it, the fragility of life, the way it had been so small and delicate in your gloved hands. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Kids weren’t supposed to die, to be handled like... like pieces of evidence. But that was what he had become.

This brain. The boy was someone. A person. Someone's son, someone's brother, someone's friend. He had been alive. He had thought and laughed and felt and dreamed, and now... nothing.  Jake shifted behind you, his breath warm on the back of your neck as he adjusted his position. His breathing had steadied out a while ago and you assumed he fell asleep. But his arm tightened around you, pulling you just a little close. "Hey," he murmured, his voice low and thick with sleep. "You okay?" You didn’t answer right away, pretending to be asleep. You couldn’t. You could barely hold back the tears that threatened to spill when you were on your own, but voicing out what was on your mind to Jake would surely open up the floodgates you called eyes. He was here so you wouldn’t do that, not to trigger you into doing so.

"Y/N," Jake said again, this time his voice was more awake, more alert. His hand slid up your arm, his fingers tracing the curve of your shoulder. "Talk to me." You sniffed once and blinked away a few tears. When Jake heard the noise he lifted himself onto his arm to look at you. You rolled onto your back, the tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the ceiling, unable to look at him. "I—" You swallowed, trying to keep it together, but your voice cracked. "I held his brain, Jake." You could barely say it out loud without choking on it. "His... brain. Like, the thing that makes him a person. The thing that... made him alive." You let out a shaky breath. "I can’t stop thinking about it. That’s all I’ve been thinking about. That... he was just a kid. And now he’s gone." Jake was quiet for a moment. But then his hand moved again, his fingers threading through your hair gently, and his breath was steady against your face as he leaned in close.

"I don’t know how you do what you do," Jake said softly, his voice low but filled with a quiet admiration that took you by surprise. "But I know it’s not easy. And you don’t have to carry all that by yourself, Y/N." "How am I supposed to do this?" you whispered, voice barely above a breath. "How do people deal with this? When you see something like that and you just feel so helpless?" You sniffed again and wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. “He was killed by multiple kicks to the brain. Who could do that to a child, Jake?” Jake paused, his hand now resting on your side. His thumb brushed against your ribcage in slow, comforting strokes. He didn’t have an answer right away, and you didn’t expect one. But after a moment, he spoke again, his voice quieter than before. "I don’t know," he admitted, and there was something so raw, so honest about the way he said it that it almost made you break right then and there. "I wish I did. I wish I could tell you that there’s a reason why those people do what they do, but… I can’t. I don’t think there is." His fingers curled slightly against your side. 

"But I know you," he continued, his voice steady. "And I know that if there’s anyone who can handle this, it’s you. And I know that doesn’t make it easier, but it makes it matter. You’re helping people. You’re making sure those kids get their justice." You let out a shaky breath, your eyes finally drifting to his. They were soft in the dim light, dark with something unreadable. You searched his face, taking in the way his brow was drawn slightly, the way his lips were parted. "I don’t feel strong right now," you whispered. Jake’s lips twitched, just barely. "That’s usually when you are." For a while, neither of you spoke. You just breathed, just laid there, his fingers still tracing absent patterns along your ribs, his body still warm against yours. He was right. It wouldn’t get easier but at least you could find answers for the families in mourning and justice for the victims. 

"Thanks," you murmured. Jake shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him again. "Anytime," he whispered, his voice full of warmth. Eventually, your eyes grew heavy, exhaustion creeping in despite the thoughts still spinning in your mind. Jake must have noticed, because his hand moved again, brushing a strand of hair from your face before settling back against your waist. "Get some sleep," he murmured. "I’m right here."

Jake didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He’d woken up in your bed that morning, your back pressed against his chest, your breathing slow and steady as you slept. He should’ve rolled away, should’ve put some space between you, but he didn’t. Instead, he’d let himself stay there for just a little longer, his arm still draped over your waist, his fingers twitching where they rested against your stomach. And that was the first red flag. Because this – whatever this was – was supposed to be fake. It was supposed to be a means to an end, a temporary fix for a problem that had nothing to do with the two of you actually being together. But that didn’t explain the way he’d felt when you asked him to stay over last night. Didn’t explain the way something in his chest had clenched when he saw those tears you tried to hide.

It sure as hell didn’t explain the way he’d kissed you yesterday. How the taste of your lips was so addictive, it was the only thing he could think about all evening. He hated the tinge of the leftover nicotine on your lips but he loved how you reciprocate his kiss, letting him deepen the kiss. The combination of tequila and cigarettes being almost as addictive as the funnel cake and cigarettes was a few weeks ago.  The second red flag was that he didn't want to let you go. Maybe he was being a little overbearing, but he didn’t care. You complained the whole way to his physio appointment, groaning about how you had actual work to do and how you had no interest in watching him get his shoulder prodded and stretched, but he ignored you. He just grabbed your hand and tugged you along, keeping a firm grip to make sure you didn’t slip away.

And honestly? He was glad he did. Because the second his physiotherapist started explaining something about muscle recovery, you perked up. You went from grumbling under your breath to engaging in an actual conversation about anatomical shit that went completely over his head. Something about tendons and ligaments and how the body compensated for injuries—he wasn’t sure. But you were smiling, and you were talking like you actually enjoyed yourself. Jake sat there, half in pain, half in awe, watching you chat with his therapist while he was forced through another round of exercises. “You’re way too enthusiastic about this,” he muttered between clenched teeth as he pushed through another painful stretch.

You just grinned, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall. “I just think it’s fascinating.” Jake shot you a glare that didn’t hold much weight, but deep down, he was relieved. He didn’t know if you were actually feeling better or just putting on a good front, but at least you weren’t curled up in bed, lost in your own head. That was a win. After physio, he didn’t give you a chance to slip away. He dragged you to lunch, steering you toward a small, homey restaurant owned by a sweet old woman who always snuck him extra food. “You literally didn’t have to make me come here,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him as you picked at your plate. “Didn’t I, though?” he shot back, stuffing a dumpling into his mouth. You rolled your eyes but kept eating, and Jake counted that as another win.

By the time you both made it to his dorm, you were still insisting that you needed to study. He glanced at you from where you sat at the other end of his couch, your laptop balanced on your lap as you tried to study.  "You’re staring.", your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, realizing that, yeah, he had been staring at you. Your eyes didn’t leave your screen, but he could see the ghost of a smirk playing at your lips. "You look like you're about to pass out from boredom," you added. Jake huffed, leaning over to shut your laptop. "Not bored. Just done watching you pretend to study." You glared at him, but there was no heat behind it. "Some of us have degrees to earn, Jakeyboy."

"Some of us also need to take a break before they burn out," he countered. You rolled your eyes but didn’t fight him when he tugged the laptop out of your grasp and set it on the coffee table. Instead, you shifted, pulling your legs up onto the couch and reaching for the blanket draped over the back. Jake barely hesitated before shifting, too, letting you settle against his side as he grabbed his phone again. And that was the third red flag. Because he wasn’t thinking about how fake this was supposed to be. He wasn’t thinking about how this wasn’t part of the plan. He was thinking about how easy it was to be with you like this, how natural it felt to have you curled up against him, warm and soft and real.

Jake swallowed hard, his grip tightening slightly around his phone as he forced his attention back to the screen. He scrolled aimlessly through TikTok, but it didn’t matter what he was looking at.  "You're quiet," you murmured, and he turned to see you watching him, brows drawn slightly. Jake forced a smirk. "Enjoying the peace while it lasts." You rolled your eyes, nudging his leg with your foot, but he didn’t miss the way your expression softened after a second. "You don’t have to babysit me, you know." He frowned. "I’m not–"

"You totally are," you interrupted, your voice light but pointed. "I’m fine, Jake. Really. This happens once in a while. You know I do work with some sad stuff." Jake studied you for a moment, and maybe you thought that would be enough to convince him, but it wasn’t. He could still hear your voice from last night, the way it cracked when you told him about that kid. He didn’t say anything, just shifted his arm so it was draped more securely around you, pulling you in just a little closer. And you let him. And that was the biggest red flag of all.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty CONTINUE ON READING --⟢ PART 2 all feedback and reblogs is welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ if you liked this you might also like the rest of this series ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ taglist. @firstclassjaylee @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona @jaylvrsworld @xylatox @bluxjun @sumzysworld @outroherrr @50-husbands

ᝰ an. part two is in the works and will be coming soon! I hope you all are excited for some heavy angst and fluff nonetheless! I also hope that I didn't make any mistakes when I copy pasted the fic in here because I had to literally go scene by scene and edit every text block :,( ₊ ⊹  

[homunculus-argument]

It can also help to remember there's no universal or 'correct' amount of time that it takes to process one's emotions - it's different for everyone. Like in extreme cases with something like grief, or more specifically losing someone. Someone might want to completely pretend everything is fine, some people might cry and need emotional support every day for quite some time, some people might need a combo of the two, and there are millions of other types of reactions. In a situation like that, where a death cannot be undone or fixed, don't you think it makes sense people would need to talk about it and process it? That same thing also applies to less serious situations. We're social animals who seek comfort in one another, and venting is basically that.

Is it in any way illuminating to what kind of a gap there is between us that I don't grieve? My father died when I was 17 and the only thing I felt about it was to be mildly relieved - he wasn't actively evil, not the kind of a person whose death you'd celebrate or anything, just the type whose presence in the room makes you wish he'd leave.

Other deaths in the family have meant even less than that to me. When my paternal grandfather died, the biggest emotion I felt was annoyed - I had pastel pink hair around that time, and I was just done dyeing my hair back to my natural colour in order to be presentable for the funeral, when my mom informed me that actually my aunt already arranged the funeral herself and didn't invite us. And mom had fucking watched me ruin a hair colour that was so hard to achieve and expensive to do in order to attend an event that she knew was already over and we weren't even invited to????

When my paternal grandmother died, I felt mildly guilty of being relieved. She was the only family member I ever felt bad for, even if I didn't like her. Her life had been nothing but misery from the beginning to the end, to the point where my sister snickered at her funeral over how badly the priest was lying through his teeth trying to paint grandma's life as something worth living. She didn't ~meet her future husband~ in the city, she got knocked up by accident and had a shotgun wedding with a mean-spirited, violent alcoholic. The same aunt who didn't invite us to granddad's funeral didn't attend, saying she didn't want to fly to Finland "when the weather is so miserable". My father's mother outlived two of her three children and the last one didn't bother attending her funeral.

I didn't attend that aunt's funeral. Fuck her.

When my mother's father died, I didn't really feel like it was my obligation to mourn. He was the family patriarch, who had four children and seven grandchildren, a respected member of the communities he belonged in, and one hunting dog magazine published an article about how a great man of the field had died. I felt like other people were already doing enough. Mom spent his entire funeral fussing over whether I'm wearing or holding my hat right. He was buried on a stinging cold winter day where it physically hurt to be bareheaded outdoors, and I was counting minutes until I'd be allowed to either get back inside or put the shitty little formal funeral-appropriate cap (which mom made me buy, saying my normal warm solid black winter hat was too frivolous) back on my head.

Her fucking father died and she spent the whole time fussing over my unacceptable hat. I won't care when she dies and won't attend her funeral.

[airybcby]

I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH UGH. anywaysss, reo heavy HEAVY angst pls. idk, he just seems like the kind of guy who fits in angst fics SOOO muchh😭 that's actually all, thank youuuuuuuuuy

you know just the way to my heart ;)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° don't get sentimental

( reo mikage x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — reo AND angst? my loves.

♡ word count — 1.3k

♡ content — reo mikage x fem! reader (could be gn! but i wrote abt a wedding dress and kids so), arranged marriage (can you tell i love this trope?), angst, dream scene (once), set when reo and reader are like 26-28ish, childhood friends, unrequited love, pining, not proofread!

♡ synopsis — Reo always wonders that if he stayed in the perfectly crafted cage his parents made for him...would life be different?

── .✦ one day i am gonna grow wings

You and Reo met when you were three years old.

Not in the tender, fated way that fairy tales romanticize — but at a merger dinner between two families with too much money and not enough heart.

Reo doesn’t remember it, not clearly. He was a blur of bowties and sugared-up nerves. But you remember. 

You always do. 

You’d tell him about it later — how you cried when he took your toy car, and how he gave it back, with a crayon drawing of you both holding hands. The lines were shaky, the sun too big, your hair the wrong color.

You kept it anyway.

From that point on, there was no separating your lives.

Birthday parties, family vacations, etiquette classes, weekends filled with obligation masked as bonding.

You were the only kid he could tolerate in that world. The only one who didn’t flinch when he got too intense. The only one who didn’t care about the Mikage name.

Your parents always said it like a joke.

“They’ll end up married, just wait and see.”

A little prophecy dressed up as humor. Something you could both roll your eyes at… until it stopped sounding ridiculous.

“You know they’re going to make us get married, right?”

You were sixteen. Reo remembers that day better than most.

The rooftop of a rented summer estate, the orange wash of sunset casting long shadows across your face. 

You both had ditched a charity ball downstairs. The music floated faintly up through the walls.

Reo had laughed. “Could be worse.”

You had turned to him. “Yeah? How?”

“At least I like you.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Familiar. Something you’d both grown into, like an old sweater neither of you had the heart to throw away.

You were best friends. Always had been.

And maybe something more, though you never said it aloud.

Because what would’ve been the point?

Then Reo found soccer.

Not the kind played in private academies or manicured fields behind country clubs — but the kind that tore your knees open and made your chest burn. 

The kind that made him feel alive for the first time in his life.

You supported him.

Of course you did. 

No one else saw how he lit up when he played. 

How he finally started speaking about something without apologizing for wanting it too much.

But your parents didn’t.

When Reo told them he wanted to go pro — that he didn’t want the family business or the predetermined life that came with it — the engagement that had always been quietly understood fell apart.

They ended it swiftly, like cutting off a loose thread.

And Reo let them.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t beg. He just walked away.

And somehow, that hurt worse than anything.

Still, he stayed in touch.

You both did.

Late night messages. Check-ins during tournaments. Birthday calls that grew shorter each year. The tether between you stretched, but it never snapped.

Until one day… it stopped being enough.

You were twenty-six when your parents arranged another marriage.

To someone suitable.

Someone who wouldn’t walk away from legacy.

Someone whose name paired well with yours on embossed invitations.

He wasn’t awful. Just… not Reo.

You told yourself that mattered.

That this was easier.

That you were happy.

The wedding is beautiful.

Of course it is. Everything your parents curate is.

The flowers are pristine. 

The venue gleams. 

Every single guest is dressed like they walked out of a glossy magazine spread.

Reo is seated near the back.

He tries not to draw attention — not an easy task when you're one of the most recognizable athletes in the country. But he doesn’t want to be seen. 

Not today.

Not when he’s watching you walk down the aisle.

You look stunning. Almost unreal. Draped in expectations and silk.

Your face carries the kind of smile people wear when they know the camera’s on them.

The kind that says: I made peace with this. I chose this. It’s fine.

Reo watches every step like it’s in slow motion.

Watches the way your fingers tremble slightly around the bouquet.

The way your eyes flick, just once, toward the back of the room.

You see him.

And for a second, you hesitate.

Not enough for anyone else to notice — but Reo notices.

He always does.

And that’s what kills him.

You sit at the sweetheart table beside your new husband.

You barely talk.

People approach to congratulate you. Take photos. Compliment your dress.

As soon as they leave, the silence wraps itself around you like fog.

Your husband checks his watch. You glance toward the door.

You don't look unhappy.

But Reo sees it.

He sees the way your smile dims when no one's watching.

Sees how your posture relaxes only when you're alone.

Sees that the girl who once dreamed of freedom is still hiding beneath layers of compromise.

He tries to leave quietly, not sure how much more he could take.

But someone stops him, grabbing his shoulder.

“Reo Mikage? No way. My nephew’s obsessed with you—can I grab a photo?”

He obliges. Napkins, cocktail menus, a tie—he signs them all.

Another hand. Another flash of a camera. A compliment. A drink.

“You’ve done so well for yourself, son. You must be proud.”

“Your game last month—insane. That last-minute goal? Genius.”

“Tell me, are you seeing anyone?”

More laughter. More champagne. More people trying to own pieces of him.

All the wings he fought to grow suddenly feel clipped.

When he finally slips outside, it’s past midnight. The sky is ink-black, scattered with stars he doesn’t care to name.

He leans against the railing of the venue’s back patio, shoulders heavy.

A breeze picks up.

He thinks about the first time you kissed — unspoken, quiet, on a winter night when the world felt too big and too far away.

Thinks about the dreams you once shared — the tiny apartment you were going to decorate together. The dog you’d name after some ridiculous pun. 

The freedom you were going to steal back, inch by inch.

And he wonders, not for the first time:

If he had just stayed in the cage they built for him…

Would he have you too?

That night, Reo dreams of a different life.

It’s warm. Familiar. 

He wakes in a bed too soft to be his, sheets tangled around his legs. Sunlight filters through sheer curtains. 

There’s the faint sound of a kettle, and then—

Your laugh.

He follows the sound down a hallway. Through a door. Into a kitchen he doesn’t remember ever living in, but feels like home.

You're standing by the counter, wearing his hoodie. 

A child clings to your leg—small, babbling, messy-haired. 

Another one is at the table, coloring furiously with a crayon held in their fist.

“Morning,” you say, smiling, like you’ve always said it that way.

You hand him a mug. It’s chipped. The design is worn. 

He’s never seen it before, but he knows it’s his favorite.

He takes it, touches your wrist, kisses the top of your head.

Everything is soft. Simple. Sacred.

The child at the table holds up their drawing.

A shaky stick figure with purple hair. “It’s you, Daddy!”

He crouches down. Laughs. Feels his chest ache with a love too big to hold.

And then—

The sound of a whistle. 

The roar of a stadium. 

A voice calling his name like a siren from outside the dream.

He wakes up alone.

In a hotel room. 

Dark. 

Cold. 

The air conditioner hums.

There’s no warmth. 

No laughter. 

No tiny hand tugging his sleeve.

Just his phone, lighting up with notifications. 

A news article about last night’s wedding. 

A tagged photo. 

A message from a fan.

And the ache still in his chest, blooming like grief.

He presses the heel of his hand to his eyes.

He wonders what kind of cruel dream gives you a life and then takes it away before sunrise.

The kind you don’t forget.

The kind you never stop wanting.

if you were wondering, reo is my favorite character to write angst for :)

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[baigepueckers]

Caitlin Clark X Reader

Out of Frame

It’s not a flashy job, not in the way people outside of pro sports might think. But it matters. You handle content planning, player interviews, behind the scenes footage, postgame edits and those little viral moments that somehow make fans feel like they’re part of something bigger. You know when to post, how to frame a win, how to soften a loss. You’re always watching, always chasing that perfect 30 seconds that tells the story better than stats ever could.

You’re used to being needed. Not in the loud, dramatic sense, but in the way a team needs structure. Someone to tell the story right. Someone to catch the best moments as they happen and spin them into something fans can feel. You don’t need the spotlight…you just make sure it shines in the right direction.

Which is probably why you don’t notice the way Caitlin looks at you. Not really.

You see her, of course. You’re always seeing her. Behind your lens. In your peripheral. In the center of every thumbnail. But the way she sees you? That’s something different entirely.

To Caitlin, you’re not just a camera or a job title. You’re gravity.

She’s quiet about it, at first. Respectful. You’re staff. Professional. Probably out of reach. She tells herself it’s a harmless crush…something that will fade once the season gets hectic.

But it doesn’t.

It gets worse.

It starts in the gym. A week into the season, she catches sight of you perched on a stool near the wall, camera poised, headphones in. You’re laughing quietly at something Kelsey said…shoulders shaking, head tipped back…and the sound is muffled but real. You’re not looking at Caitlin. You’re not looking at anyone.

And she can’t look away.

Later, she can’t even remember if her shot went in. She only remembers the angle of your smile and the flutter of her stomach that followed.

You become a constant in her world. The season blurs…practice, travel, games, media obligations. She barely remembers what city she’s in most days. But then you walk into the room with your laptop and your clipboard and your hoodie sleeves baggy at your wrists, and suddenly she’s grounded again.

There’s a moment…three games in, when you adjust her mic for a postgame interview. Your fingers graze her collarbone. Barely a touch. She doesn’t breathe for five seconds.

She replays it in her head that night like it meant something. Like you felt it too.

She doesn’t sleep.

She finds excuses to talk to you. Always small. Always careful.

“Hey, that edit was sick, what song was that?”

“Mind if I tag you in this repost?”

“Do I look weird in that warmup shot, or is it just me?”

You always answer patiently, kindly, like you’re just doing your job. Which you are. But every time you speak to her…Caitlin feels like she’s winning something.

Every time you smile at her, it burns.

She starts to memorize things..your go to drink, the song you hum under your breath while editing, the way you chew the inside of your cheek when something’s not syncing right. She notices that you wear the same vintage Fever hoodie on road trips and that your phone screen is cracked in the corner and that your laugh gets softer when it’s late and you’re tired.

She knows it’s dangerous, how much she notices. How much she wants to notice.

How much she wants you.

One night in June, she walks past the media room at 11:42 PM. Lights off, but you’re still inside…just the glow of your laptop on your face, headphones around your neck. She shouldn’t knock. She should go to bed.

Instead, she lingers. Watching you work, jaw clenched in focus, hair pulled up in a way that drives her insane. She presses her fingers into the edge of the doorframe until they ache.

You look up.

She nearly turns around.

But then you smile.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, voice quiet in the dark.

She shrugs. “Something like that.”

You tilt your head. “Wanna sit?”

She does.

You don’t notice it, but she looks at you like she’s memorizing. Like she’s cataloguing every part of you for the nights she’ll be alone. She watches the way your fingers fly across the keyboard. The way your lips press together when you’re deep in concentration. The way your leg bounces softly under the table, probably to whatever beat you’re hearing in your headphones.

“You’re really good at this,” she murmurs after a while.

You glance at her. “At editing?”

“At… all of it. Telling stories. Capturing people. Making us look like more than stats.”

Your lips tug into a smile. “Thanks.”

She wants to say, You make it hard not to notice you.

She wants to say, I think about you when I should be thinking about basketball.

She wants to say, I’m falling for you and you don’t even see it, do you?

Instead, she says, “You ever film yourself?”

You blink, confused. “No. Why would I?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice is low. Careful. “Just think it’s a shame. You’re always behind the scenes. Someone should show your side.”

You shake your head, smiling softly. “I’m better off out of frame.”

She swallows. Doesn’t argue.

But the thought claws at her the rest of the night.

Because you don’t know it, but you’re the whole picture to her.

A week later, Caitlin gets fouled hard mid game. She hits the court. Slides. The arena gasps. You gasp.

She doesn’t get up right away.

She hears her name shouted, hears her teammates’ voices, but the first one she really hears is yours. From the baseline. Soft, strained. Desperate.

“Caitlin.”

You’re not supposed to be that close. Not supposed to sound that shaken.

Later, after the trainers clear her, after she’s checked and iced and fine, she catches you watching her. From behind your camera, lips pressed tight, brow furrowed.

She waves a small “I’m okay” toward you.

And you…you smile. It’s brief. But it means everything.

She clings to it like a lifeline.

She starts drafting texts she’ll never send.

“You made me feel seen today. I don’t think I’ve ever had that before.”

“I keep trying to be normal around you and failing spectacularly.”

“Tell me to stop and I will. But God, I hope you don’t.”

She deletes them all.

She can’t risk it. Not yet. You’re too important. Too good. Too… unreachable.

But the yearning? The wanting?

It’s constant.

It’s everything.

[jimblejamblewritings]

Pet Soldier | 4

Summary: Bucky's past catches up to him, unlocking painful memories of his time as the winter soldier. The only thing that could make it worse was having to be on a team with a captured HYDRA soldier he wants to see dead. But her healing power is simply too invaluable to let go.

THIS IS A DARK FIC!

Warnings for the Series: 18+ only. Heavy Angst (eventual hurt comfort). Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con and Dub-Con. Psychological Trauma. Not Canon Compliant. Manipulation. Hydra.

Important Warnings for this Part: Non-Con. Seriously. All the Italics are where it could be held.

Pairing: eventual Stucky x reader, Stucky x hydra!reader, Bucky x reader

Word Count: 8.9k (yeah, sorry, there was no good place to cut this part off so it'll be our oddly long chapter)

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

You didn’t want a UN meeting where you were paraded out to the public for corrections about you and your new place in SHIELD. The Accords Committee felt obligated to honor that. But they did need to make corrections about you and verify the truth. Which meant a small group of the Accords Committee and SHIELD’s board showed up early to Avengers Tower and would hopefully have a public statement by evening.

No one was surprised when you were the last one into the meeting flanked by one super soldier who hadn’t left your side since the terrace incident and a redheaded spy who watched your back even when you thought she wasn’t around. You were introduced to everyone, some familiar and some not.  

Everett Ross shook your hand. “I’m, uh, very sorry about how your past few months have been. Please, take a seat.” 

He wasn’t sure how to proceed, grateful for Nick going straight to the heart of the meeting. Natasha reassured you multiple times that you didn’t have to be in the room if you didn’t want to. For whatever reason, you couldn't bring yourself to leave even though you didn't exactly want to witness the harsh realities you had already experienced. Instead, you brought your chair closer to the super soldier at your side and held his wrist, squeezing it tightly.

Bucky swallowed thickly at the gesture. It wasn't for your own comfort but his. And the worst part was he couldn't even remember what he needed comforting about. He did the only thing that felt right, putting his hand over yours and echoing the team’s sentiment that they wouldn’t force you to stay in the room and that everyone aside Nick, Steve, and Ross could leave as well if you didn’t want them to see it. While they all preferred to be on reports, technically it was only necessary for Ross as the liaison of the SHIELD division and Accords Committee, Steve as team captain, and Nick as SHIELD’s director to be here. 

“I don’t mind,” you said. “HYDRA guards have already seen and shared everything whether I liked it or not. I’m more concerned that you all won’t be comfortable with what you see.” 

That was something they all discussed. But whether they were comfortable or not, they had to assess the evidence given to them. And unfortunately, all the evidence was video based. For once, Steve has wished he was given an abundance of paperwork.

He was sure he could stomach reading about what happened to you and Bucky. But he wasn’t sure he’d be able to witness it without breaking down. Everyone nodded, not wanting to delay the inevitable for any longer. Despite not being the leader, Tony naturally took over. 

“Alright, FRIDAY, what do you got for us?” he asked. 

“All videos sorted and accounted for. Repetition has been saved but cut from this viewing. Focus is solely on moments including Sergeant Barnes and Y/N L/N aside from moments deemed important enough to include even if they aren’t involved.” 

“Sounds great. What’s the earliest date we’ve got? Year is fine.” 

“1945.” 

Everyone but you paused. 

“FRIDAY, are you sure?” Tony asked. “Not Buckaroo’s time at HYDRA. When L/N arrives, we don’t really need to crack open Barnes’ old baggage.”  

“Yes, Mr. Stark. The dates have been checked and verified multiple times. This is the earliest date with both Ms. L/N and Sergeant Barnes. 1945.” 

Even Bucky had to blink back confusion, he could have sworn you weren’t around for more than two or three decades at the most. Nervousness began to build in his stomach and he felt a tightness in his chest. What if the soldier had been hurting you from the very beginning? If so, did that mean you two were never truly in love? 

The subject of you having been his wife hadn’t been brought up since the day it was revealed. Bucky wasn’t eager to unpack those memories or feelings, especially when he had a very loving boyfriend that he was head over heels for. But he knew it would have to be talked about eventually. He had been hoping for later rather than sooner.

Now, Bucky had to think about it whether he liked it or not. Because the only thing he was now focused on was if you had ever loved him or did you have the worst case of Stockholm Syndrome imaginable? He didn’t know which answer would have been preferable, less painful. 

Ross grabbed the remote and paused it before FRIDAY could even begin playing the first video. He tried to soften his voice as best as possible. 

“I have to ask, when were you born exactly?” 

“1920.” 

Most eyes in the room nearly bugged out of their skulls. At least they confirmed that FRIDAY was right in her information. Unsure of what else to say, Ross simply pressed play on the remote: 

Bucky moaned on the hospital bed he was strapped to. The bleeding had stopped but he was very aware that his arm was missing. You were thrown into the room, landing roughly on your hands and knees. Bucky didn’t know Russian but he could tell whatever was being shouted at you before the door slammed shut was Russian or, at least, definitely not German. 

You slowly got to your feet, attempting to speak broken Russian to the man on the bed. Bucky cut you off quickly. 

“I don’t understand that shit.” He tilted his head when you breathed out in relief. 

“You’re a prisoner too?” 

“Where the hell am I?” 

“A HYDRA base. Somewhere in the Soviet area. I haven’t been able to figure out if we’re in Russia yet.” 

Bucky threw his head back in frustration. Captured by HYDRA again. He wished he had just died from the fall instead. You picked up the crude and barely filled manila folder clipped to the end of his bed. All of Bucky’s information that HYDRA had gathered and the biggest reason you had been sent in to heal him despite the fact that he was missing one arm and therefore should have been expendable. He had a version of super soldier serum in him. The only other person you heard of having that was Captain America. You sighed as you set the folder back down and produced the key the soldiers had given you. 

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me.” 

“What do you mean?” Bucky was more than confused how you were a bad thing considering you were currently unlocking his handcuffs. 

“Because they only drag me out of my cell to heal someone worth saving.” 

Bucky swallowed thickly, not needing you to explain anymore. He wasn’t sure if you were a complete good guy yet but you were at least an ally for now. He waited patiently for you to lay out your equipment. You went through basic check-ups before assessing the real issue. Bucky’s eyes went wide when he saw the faint blue glow coming from your hands. His soreness started to slowly melt away as you pressed your hands to his wounds. 

“You’ll have to keep coming back before the next phase of your new training,” you told him. “I’m still learning my powers. My base camp was helping me learn how to get better to help soldiers for the war but I got taken before that. I’m working on it though.” 

“Were you given serum too?��� 

You shook your head. “Born.” 

Bucky nodded, going silent for a while before noticing the silver dog tags hitting against your chest every time you moved. 

“Are those yours?” Bucky asked.

You nodded.

“From this war or the last?”

“Do I look old enough for them to be from the last war?” you asked with a snort. 

“I never like to assume a lady’s age.”

“You’re trouble, Sergeant Barnes.” 

Guards came to take him away before either one of you could have more conversation.

✭✭✭✭

Lock clockwork, you were taken to Bucky’s temporary chambers in the hospital after his breakfast. Both of you had concluded that the other was an ally, potentially even a friend in this grim place. 

Bucky turned away from looking at his shoulder that was no longer an open sore to staring at the ceiling. 

“Wish I would have met you back at camp. Did you ever hear about getting an assignment with the 107th?” 

“No, I don’t think so. Although, I hate to admit it but I never really paid attention to assignments. I just showed up where they directed me too.” 

“Shame. I’m sure you would have brightened up the days at camp.” 

He smirked when you rolled your eyes. It was so easy to pretend that you guys were back on one of the military bases. Without guards breathing down your back, you could almost imagine that you were in one of the medical tents and simply tending to a wounded soldier. 

“Sergeant, are you flirting with me?”

“Is there another pretty doctor fixing me up?”

“I’m just a nurse.”

Bucky pretended to ponder that thought for a few seconds. “Well, HYDRA’s training you up, aren’t they? And you have that weird magic that I’m really grateful for right now. I think that makes you qualified enough to be a doctor.”

“You’re too handsome for your own good. I hope you know that.”

He finally sat back with a smile. “So what I’m hearing, doc, is that my flirting does have an effect on you. I was worried that I was losing my touch.”   

✭✭✭✭

“Not to be offensive to the lady patching me up but where are you from? You sound kind of like a lady I know, Peggy Carter but you also sound like you belong from Brooklyn with Steve and I. And your tags don’t look like the British ones.”

Your nose scrunched up as you tried to stop from laughing too loud before it attracted the guards. “I don’t know anything about Brooklyn but my family are from the States. They moved here when I was little. Better life and all that. I guess I still sound like my parents somewhat.”

“Did you get that better life? Before HYDRA, I mean.”

You shrugged. “In some ways. In others, the racism is all the same. As for the tags, I lost my original. They gave me new ones while I was sent out to some American camp with a nurse shortage. Don’t tell anyone but I like this version more.”

“My lips are sealed.”  

It was quite obvious to everyone watching that you and Bucky had established quite a rapport. The super soldier felt a bit better at the fact that there was a time he knew you before the winter soldier. You weren’t just another one of his victims that happened to live to tell the tale. 

✭✭✭✭

Bucky already knew that he was in his final days before they did something else to him. Carefully, he took off his dog tags and slipped into the pocket of the lab coat that HYDRA let you wear. 

“Keep mine for me. I know they’re going to take them soon. And I know I’m not getting out of this shit, not this time.”

“But what about your friend you were talking about? Steve?”

“Trust me, darlin’. The way I was taken, no one’s coming. Just keep these safe for me, please.”

✭✭✭✭

Bucky wasn’t the same when he was brought to you. That was already the first change you noticed. You were upgraded from dingy barracks to a solitary cell. You worked next to the other scientists as the resident healer. And the Asset, as they were now calling Bucky, was brought to you rather than the other way around. 

He looked more feral than before. More like a machine every time you met him. And every time he left and you were allowed back into your cell, you cried for the man they destroyed. You cried, knowing that you two were stuck at HYDRA for the foreseeable future. 

✭✭✭✭

You looked up when the sirens started. Another winter soldier rampage. Part of you thought it was good. Bucky was still sticking it to them somehow. They couldn’t perfectly control him. On the other hand, you hated it because anyone that wasn’t flat out murdered was brought to you for healing. Aside from draining your powers, it gave you horrible nightmares. What you didn’t expect was for the guards to not subdue the rampage in a timely fashion. But it was too late to process that as the soldier busted down the door to the lab. 

Both Bucky and Steve noticed the hitch in your breath as you watched the scene unfold. Steve felt awful ever forcing you to leave the quinjet on missions because you jumped and flinched at each gunshot the winter soldier unloaded on the scientists in the video. 

The soldier turned his attention to you as the only other living being in the lab. You shook hard as you held your hands up in a surrender fashion. Pleas to spare your life seemed to fall on deaf ears as he stalked towards you. His arm shot out quickly, grabbing you before you even had a chance to run. The wind was knocked out of you as you were pulled back and flush against his chest. Metal fingers crept closer to your throat, wrapping around but not yet crushing. 

With an aggressive growl, the soldier ripped his hand away and shoved you against your workbench. You squirmed and panicked as you felt the fabric of your scrubs cleanly tear in two. Even your underwear seemed to offend the soldier as he ripped through them as well, the elastic snapping harshly against your skin. You clamped both hands over your mouth when you felt him prodding and poking at your entrance. You weren’t even sure when he had managed to get his pants down while you were still pinned with one hand. 

No one in the conference room was sure of what to say. It was almost like Bucky was trying to be gentle somehow. They expected the same brutal pace from his nightmare-induced rampages in the tower. But what they were watching while still rough was slow. Only the soldier’s flesh hand touched you while the metal one kept opening and closing in a fist. Almost like he was holding back. 

✭✭✭✭

The next scene was one FRIDAY deemed important even though you and Bucky weren’t in it. 

 HYDRA officials gathered in a nice room that didn’t seem to belong to the base. They stared at footage on the screen while some scientist at the front of the room pointed out things. The footage became clearer — the winter soldier’s latest rampage. 

“I believe the Asset recognized her ability to heal during his rampage. It is impossible to know what was going through his head but I truly believe he made a connection in his mind and remembered her healing ability, somewhat warping the nature of his rampage.”

“Saving her despite leaving everyone else for dead,” an official answered bluntly.

“Yes. His rampage wasn’t going to stop but the Asset did not want to kill her. We have witnessed the first instance of control during his instability. But that isn’t the only remarkable thing.”

“It isn’t?”

The scientist pulled up the cctv footage. “After his interaction with her. The rampage only continued for a mere two minutes before the soldier returned himself to his chamber without any guidance or threats.”

All of the officials in the meeting room paused. At this point, they had multiple times to learn the Asset’s rampage schedule. So hostile and lasting for long stretches of time that he would have been executed if he wasn’t the only experiment that took well to the serum.

He should have had another ten minutes before they could even start attempting to wrangle him back to his chamber after the first failed corralling. The scientist merely nodded as an answer to whatever question must have been racing through their minds.

“The instability in the Asset seems to stem from a remembrance of his previous life, a longing for that human side. Extensive wiping of his mind doesn’t seem to be a tool that works to eliminate that. We will have to come up with better technology. In the meantime, I would like to propose a temporary solution. Her.”

“The healer?”

“Watch the video again.” The scientist paused at the graphic scene. “Look at her hands.”

They could all see the small glow emitting from them.

“She either calmed his rampage through her abilities or the Asset’s human nature was seeking help and solace and recognized that she had provided a form of that for him in the past.”

Karpov set down his drink with a laugh. “So instead of killing her, he found his solace and took it.”

“Simple biology.”

“And you truly believe it will control his instability?”

“For now. The solution might not last forever but I do believe he can be subdued for now.”

“The problem is if he kills her. We have yet to find another mutant with her power. Her blood and dna give little in progress to create a serum from her. Without her, the Asset is down for weeks instead of days if he is severely injured,” an official said.

Karpov stood, garnering all their attention. “Then offer him other whores first. But if they cannot aid him then she goes in. The Asset is our most valuable weapon. The healer dies then she dies.”

✭✭✭✭

“I’m sorry.” The deep voice startled you.

You looked up to see yourself face to face with the winter soldier. Although, his eyes looked different today. More animated. A touch of clarity. The soldier flexed his metal arm before relaxing it again. He wasn’t with any guards but no sirens were blaring either. Did they let him walk on his own to the lab? 

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” he asked, breaking your thoughts. 

You wanted to ignore him but the look on his face made you nod. The soldier sucked in a harsh breath. It was silent for what felt like hours, both of you lost in your own thoughts until he came forward and sat down in the patient’s chair. He took a chance and held your knee with his metal hand. 

“I didn’t want to.” 

The honestly startled and confused you. The soldier turned to look at the door and then the cameras in the corner, wondering how long he’d have before the guards came in and wiped him for this sudden confession. He swallowed thickly. 

“I didn’t want to but I think I was going to kill everyone here. I couldn’t stop myself but it was the only thing I could do to not kill you. You’ve always been kind. I remember that now. I think that’s why I didn’t want you dead.” 

“Thank you for telling me. I think that makes me feel a bit better, Bucky.” 

The soldier sat back with something that almost looked like a smile on his face. “Who the hell is Bucky?” 

You gasped when you realized the mistake you made, constantly looking at the door and making the soldier feel on edge. After five minutes, no guards came. Even after you finished healing, no one showed up. The soldier bridged the gap once more, feeling confident. 

“Is that my name? I was named Bucky?” 

“A nickname.” You didn’t want to tell him more in case HYDRA thought you were pushing it.

“Hmmm. Will you call me that then? Instead of Soldat or Asset.” 

You nodded. “Of course, Bucky.” 

“I really am sorry for hurting you. I don’t really remember it but I feel that it happened.” 

“If you don’t remember it then let’s not worry about it, Buck—” You were interrupted by the crinkling of an intercom. 

“Nurse L/N, please escort the Asset back to cryo before the evening ends. You have until an hour after dinner.” 

✭✭✭✭

It became a routine for you and Bucky whenever he was let out of cryo. Both of you were suspicious about why HYDRA let you have this time but you didn’t want to question it too much before it was taken away. No guards came in even when you were trash talking their organization. Granted, they mind wiped him and punished you afterwards but even that was less harsh than their normal punishments of the past. You spent most of your time together. 

Bucky had a permanent seat next to your work bench. The other scientists learned to bow their heads because the winter soldier wasn’t afraid of growling at them or tensing his metal arm so the plates would crunch against each other with a menacing echo. But you had no reservations. Bucky was entirely soft with you.

He sorted your papers, recovered other people on the base to bring to you when you needed them, and he always brought your meals. And every evening, you were allowed to escort Bucky back to his cryo chamber with no guards around. 

In a sort of awe and confusion, the entire conference room watched FRIDAY fast forward at super speed through these clips. The date stamp in the corner of each cctv showed this strange allowance HYDRA gave you and Bucky lasted for a good six months. The footage went back to normal speed. 

Bucky looked down when you grabbed his metal hand, slipping your fingers through his, as you led him back to his cryo chamber. He still hated the thing but getting precious moments with you was better than kicking and screaming and being dragged back anyway. 

“Walk slower,” he softly commanded. “I just want to savor this, please. They send me out on a mission in four days and then back to cryo for who knows how long.” 

“Of course, Bucky.” 

You didn’t know if it would get you in trouble later but you didn’t care. You led him the long way through every floor of the facility that you were allowed on before finally returning to the cryo rooms. Bucky protectively wrapped an arm around your shoulder when you two noticed that all of the important officials, including Karpov, were in the rooms.

But none of them summoned any guards. Karpov merely smiled and asked you to continue your standard routine. True to his words, the officials focused solely on the scientists, asking them questions about cryo rooms and what improvements have been made and such. 

You were suddenly self-conscious but you tried to continue as usual. There were some things that you had never planned on doing for a man, ever. Bucky knew that. Yet, he was grateful that you bent some of those rules for him even if it was solely out of pity for his circumstances. He sat down while you removed his tactical boots and replaced them with slippers for cryo. 

“Thank you,” he said, reaching for your hand again. 

“Gear.” 

Bucky removed his tactical vest. You raised your eyebrows as he put it to the side instead of handing it to you like usual. He was thinking about something. You just weren’t sure about what. Instead of rushing him, you gave Bucky the time to figure it out. His blue eyes stared down your own. 

“I really want to kiss you,” he muttered. 

You two were more than aware when all the scientists and guards started leaving at his words. There was no pretense or excuses made. Their Asset made a request that they were willing to grant. This is what they had been waiting for. You and Bucky realized it at the same time. Bucky wrung out his hands. 

“I don’t care if they expect something. They kept bringing me women so they must expect something but I don’t want them. I won’t kiss you unless you want it… Please say something.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“It’s the only thing I’m sure about in this place.” 

You nodded. “I want it, Bucky.” 

He surged forward, taking your face in both hands, and kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Bucky tensed up when the guards returned. Karpov stepped forward. 

“Relax, Soldat. Miss L/N, please prepare yourself for cryo.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes widened and your breathing got faster. 

Bucky rubbed your arms up and down, applying a slight pressure. “It’s alright. Just like sleeping.” 

On instinct, he pressed kisses along your shoulder. You tentatively took the cup of pills one of the scientists handed you. It was like you had a choice. Another held up a large tub of what looked like a gel mixed with lotion. You were informed that because you weren’t serum-jacked like Bucky, they had to prep you differently until your body became used to the chamber. No one said anything when Bucky snatched the jar from the woman. He’d be damned if he let one of them touch you. 

It was almost sensual how he made sure the lotion covered every inch of your skin. He kissed you one more time before watching you get into the chamber first before he stepped into his own. 

✭✭✭✭

Karpov’s log was simple and to the point. 

“Sergeant Barnes wakes up from cryo a lot calmer now. We will be keeping Miss L/N in cryo alongside him.” 

✭✭✭✭

“They gave you guys a window?” Ross asked in complete shock at the scene of Bucky closing the curtains over what was clearly a real window. 

You two had been moved to a shared cell. There was a real bed in the corner, a small couch, and a small bathroom with just a toilet and a sink inside. It wasn’t much but you and Bucky made it look like a real home as far as everyone was concerned. But, like Ross, they looked on in disbelief. It was obvious that HYDRA was going to keep the two of you together once Bucky had made that first move but they were being oddly accommodating. 

“Their deadliest soldier they had to keep brainwashing was given a window? That shows the outside!”

Bucky squinted at the large screen, the faintest hint of a memory flashing before him. “I think I wanted it for Y/N?”

His question was answered as FRIDAY flitted through the data to find what he was talking about. Sure enough, there was documentation. Only, you weren’t in the room at the time that FRIDAY didn’t think it necessary to include at first.

The Winter Soldier was more like Bucky in that moment than the team had ever seen. He demanded a windowed cell, not even realizing that no such thing existed in a HYDRA facility. But no matter who talked to him or tried to hurt him, he wouldn’t listen. The soldier shook his head again before grabbing the throat of the nearest guard.

“My girl wants to see the outside. Misses it. She will get her window or she will accompany me on missions. But I am giving her outside. Doll, deserves it.”

The guards in the video and the team watching on the screen all glanced over at their versions of Bucky. Karpov stepped closer to the soldier. His smile was sickly sweet.

“She will get her window… If you return to the machine, Asset.” He held up a hand before the soldier could growl. “We will let you remember her. But she isn’t your doll.”

The soldier did growl at the way Karpov spat the nickname.

“She is barely your girl. A whore, a pet, a toy, perhaps. All appropriate names. Get back to the machine without causing a fuss and you will get her a window and we will allow her to be your girl.”

The guard slowly dying in the soldier’s clutch gasped as he was finally dropped. 

“My name is Bucky. She calls me Bucky.” 

Karpov and the other handlers nodded, watching the soldier comply with no further issues.

✭✭✭✭

You were escorted in Karpov’s office, having been awoken from cryo only mere minutes ago. Bucky was scheduled to come home that day. They rarely let you out of cryo when he was on missions. It kept him under control. If there was one thing Bucky would never do, it was endanger your life. 

Karpov barely looked up from the paperwork he was filling out. “You are not to refer to Soldat as Bucky anymore. N—” 

“I’m not calling him the Asset or Soldat.” 

The man in front of you looked up with a bit of a smile. “I see the soldier’s bite has begun to rub off. You didn’t not let me finish. He will be referred to as Sergeant James Barnes. You may call him Bucky in the privacy of your own home but he must get used to his name once again. Assist him with that.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good. Dismissed. Guards will be escorting you to your new chambers.” 

You stood as straight as possible, preparing for the potential punishment you were about to face. “I’d like to request permission to give Sergeant Barnes his tags back if he is being allowed to become a sergeant again.” 

You breathed in deeply when the man came from around the corner of his desk. 

Karpov backhanded you. “If you ever hide something like that from us again, the consequences will be more severe.”

“Yes, sir,” you said through gritted teeth. “May I return his tags, sir?” 

Karpov snatched them from your hands. You thought that was it. Accepting defeat, you let the guards escort you. You were taken to the first level of the garages. The first thing you noticed was that you were taken to an apartment building. It wasn’t far from the base and nothing else was around. You figured all the other residents were grunt workers for HYDRA. It might not have been the outside and in the city that you were hoping for but you could almost cry at the sight. 

The apartment had a living room, two bedrooms, a large bathroom and a smaller half-bath. There was a dining room right off of the kitchen. And several catalogs of furniture laid on the floor. 

Nat paused the video. “They didn’t want you brainwashed. They wanted you as an answer to Steve.” 

The thought didn’t make the team feel much better. It was another form of manipulation but not through torture. Pity pulled at all of them as they watched you sit on the floor and excitedly thumb through magazines, bookmarking what you thought Bucky would also like. The team watched as back in the facility, Bucky was stopped by Karpov. The dialogue must not have mattered much because FRIDAY skipped right to Bucky coming into the apartment. 

He laughed, gravelly from years of having not done so, when you jumped into his arms. Bucky pecked your lips before setting you down. 

“We have our own place, Sergeant. There’s a patio.” 

“A patio? Well, surely we need furniture for that as well.” 

You held up a catalog. “This one is for clothes. Not many options but… We can feel normal.” 

✭✭✭✭

Bucky wasn’t in tactical gear when he entered the apartment. That was the first thing they noticed. 

The soldier wasn’t in his standard uniform or a simple black tank top and pants with his military boots. They gave him scrubs. Scrubs like the ones you used to wear. All in colors that matched your new dresses. The illusion of a normal life. Most importantly, his dog tags dangled on a chain, slipping out of his shirt as he bent down to take off his shoes. He made a beeline straight for the living room where you were reading some book in Russian. 

Bucky leaned over the couch, pecking your lips. “We’re a bit low on groceries. I’ll put in a delivery order tomorrow. Is beef stroganoff okay?”

“You could make just a grilled cheese and I’d love it, Buck. Are you sure you don’t want me to cook? You just got back from wherever you’ve been.”

He adamantly shook his head. “Switzerland and you hate anything to do with the kitchen.”

“But you always cook.”

“And you always do the laundry. I rather like our arrangement. I don’t have to do any chores I hate, so why would I let my girl do the ones she doesn’t like? Hey, I got you something.” 

He pulled a bar of chocolate from one pocket and a small teddy bear from the other. “Happy Birthday, doll. Sorry I was away for the real day.” 

“Thank you!” 

Bucky let you pull him down for a few more kisses before stating he had to get dinner ready. You had let him have his domain in the kitchen for a few minutes but you just had to enter. For a moment, you simply watched from the doorway. Bucky was cleaning up bowls that you could tell were holding cake batter just moments ago. 

He lifted his head from staring at the pot of stroganoff when music started to play. You tugged at his arm to try and get him away from the food. 

“The cake’ll burn. So will this.” 

“We’ll set a timer,” you stated so simply.  

Rolling his eyes, Bucky smiled as he lowered the stove’s temperature before letting you pull him away. 

From the music playing through the radio, everyone could tell it was the 60s now. You and Bucky had been placed in cryo for nearly six years and neither one of you were even aware that it hadn’t been a single night. The two of you didn’t even register that the music was completely new. Instead, you danced in the kitchen without a care in the world. 

They watched as you finally went to bed, content with life. Part of the reason you and Bucky didn’t seem to have a proper track of time was because of the new cryo chambers. HYDRA had configured your whole apartment to be one big chamber. The disorientation helped manage Bucky even better. Six years to the two of you just felt like a good eight hours of rest. 

Knowing that there was such a big jump in time, the team thought now was an appropriate time to take a break. 

Sharon and Maria agreed to monitor the video now on mute with just subtitles while the others moved around the conference room piling plates with food and filling cups with various drinks. 

“Do you want anything?” Bucky asked you, pushing his plate a bit closer to your hand. 

You shook your head. “The bad years are coming. I don’t think I have the stomach to eat and watch.”

A gasp from Sharon drew everyone’s attention before Bucky could ask you to define what the bad years meant.

“What?” Ross asked.

Silently, Sharon rewinded the video all the way to the beginning, turning up the volume. It was another one of Karpov’s logs. Only for once, he seemed more interested in the camera than usual when he normally does his paperwork while reporting. Karpov set down his pen and pushed a ledger aside.

“Sergeant Barnes and the Asset are starting to work together. His rampages have significantly improved. It seems as long as Barnes gets his girl and as long as she is safe, the Asset will comply. Fortunately, he has also confirmed with this revelation that the instability is purely from Barnes trying to gain control of himself again. We are working on how to eliminate that problem with future winter soldiers. For now, we are aiming for that goal rather than fixing the Asset. He has a solution that continues to work. It will do for now.

“If the newest rounds of soldiers prove to be effective and our improvements to the serums work then we will grant the Asset the one thing he has been asking for. He will be allowed to retire from all missions that are not deemed the highest level. He will resume his life as Sergeant Barnes, training other winter soldiers. And we are considering granting him and his girl a proper house away from the facility. He has not tried to run away since she has been with him and she is too weak mentally and physically to flee if given the freedom. 

“The illusion of normal life has done well for him. If he wants a white picket fence and a silly ranch house, we feel confident in giving him that. Zola is coming from America to assess Barnes himself. He hasn’t given an official report yet however he believes that we will be able to transfer the Asset to America. Instead of a HYDRA base, he can live a little away from the city with L/N. Still monitored, of course. However, we might be able to remove surveillance from their house in a couple of years or so. Also, Sergeant Barnes has requested permission to marry Doctor L/N. We will be granting that request.”

It hurt Bucky more than he thought it would to see the wedding ceremony. It looked real. You were in a very pretty wedding dress. His tux looked just like one he was considering for him and Steve’s wedding in a couple years or so. The two of you looked so happy. He didn’t understand the turning point until it stared him in the face. HYDRA didn’t allow mistakes and the Asset had made a mistake. Several. 

With you becoming his wife, he had started to care too much. He wasn’t failing his missions but he was getting sloppy. Bucky’s main objective was getting home to you. And that meant taking less risks, taking longer to hit targets, doing more spy work than sniper work if needed. All things that HYDRA didn’t like. But they couldn’t seem to agree on a route for correction. 

“If we take her away then it will take us another decade to make the Asset perfect again. He almost believed he chose to be a part of HYDRA. He was nearing perfection. He needs her but he needs to care about her less,” Zola argued. “He needs to be taught what constitutes coming home to her versus what means spending nights in the cryo chamber alone.”

Karpov thought. “So we don’t take her away. We change his nature towards her. She can’t continue being his girl, not until we have studied this final stage more.”

Another official nodded. “She must be his punishment and reward.”

“She will reward him when he does what we want. She will punish him whenever he refuses to comply. And she will always look perfect. His mistakes no longer are a consequence to her. She is the consequence for him. When Sergeant Barnes is able to deliver us perfection, we will allow them to live the rest of their days as proper HYDRA operatives. He will get his doll back forever.”

The word doll left Karpov’s lips with so much venom.

✭✭✭✭

The first time Bucky failed in their eyes, you were brought into a prison cell. A riding crop was handed to you. 

“No,” you whispered. How could they ask you to harm your own husband? 

It only took one guard slapping you clear across the face for Bucky to call out to you. He tried to calm your tears, telling you to just do what HYDRA wanted. The reassurance he gave wasn’t much of a comfort. You were hurting him. No matter the circumstances, you couldn’t get over it so easily. 

✭✭✭✭

A vicious cycle at the hands of HYDRA began. Whenever he failed, you and him were trapped in a prison cell with a riding crop or a taser until you did what they wanted. Whenever he succeeded, Bucky got to go back to the apartment with you with a box in his hand. It usually contained a sweet treat or a new vhs tape or some lingerie for you. And Bucky was given many days, sometimes even a whole week, to just be with his wife and make love to you. 

You two cuddled a lot more than before. Bucky tended to hold you in his arms while your murmured apologies and let your healing powers dance against his temple. Neither one of you was sure if it mentally helped him or not but it became a comfort of sorts for both of you. 

✭✭✭✭

The change didn’t come gradually. It was a sudden snap. Bucky had failed again and once again you both were locked in the prison cell. You felt like something was wrong when Bucky didn’t give you his customary “It’s alright sweetheart.” But the guards didn’t care, telling you that they’d double Bucky’s punishment if you didn’t get to it. 

You were about halfway before he lunged at you. It might have been years but everyone still remembered what a rampage looked like. 

The team watched many fast forwardings of Bucky’s rampages, all directed at you now. Bucky understood what you meant by the bad years now. It was like he didn’t exist anymore. All traces of James Barnes were practically gone until only the winter soldier remained. 

Another one of Karpov’s logs appeared. 

“The Asset’s feelings remain complicated towards L/N. He no longer takes to her rewards but is satisfied using her as a reward for himself. The wiping seems to be having that effect. He remembers a faint desire for her but seems to be under the impression that HYDRA is granting him this release. There is concern that L/N might not survive if he gets rougher.

"Whether from physical or mental stress we aren’t sure. The Asset seems to naturally default to patterns that mimic the apartment incident. The only reason we have yet to step in is we are noticing signs of Sergeant Barnes returning. He seems almost apologetic at harming L/N. We will continue watching this new development and if it is the final stage in his patterning. Ideally, we would have liked to give him the perfect HYDRA life but creating a controlled cycle will work as well.”

“I don’t think we need to see anymore,” Bucky muttered, pausing the video. “She’s cleared, right?” 

The committee nodded. Without a shadow of a doubt, you were a victim of HYDRA like Bucky was. Both of you were doing what you were forced to do. They were delicate in their questioning, mainly wanting to know if there was anything they missed. Nick cleared his throat. 

“That pattern Karpov mentioned, did it ever emerge?”

You nodded, pulling the dog tags out from underneath your shirt. “It was a routine. Every few years started with us being strangers, getting a few good years of marriage, me becoming the Asset’s handler and then his pet.”

“You never tried to leave or at least get away from Barnes. Why?” Nick tried to keep his voice soft. 

“Because when they let me have my Bucky, he was the sweetest man I’ve ever known. You’ve met Sergeant Barnes. He’s always been a charmer. And I wasn’t going to let him go through that hell alone.”

Bucky’s fingers drummed against the table. “You were the tool they were supposed to be bringing me in D.C. a couple years ago, weren’t you?”

You nodded. “Probably. They said something about nearing your major rampage before I was put under.”

“So we were just going to do this again? This fucked up cycle?” 

“Until the day one of us died.” 

“And you stuck with it… With me.” 

“Yeah.” 

Bucky shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us? We treated you like one of those fucking criminals.” 

“Because you have built a life here, James. You have a partner and family and a really nice career. Why should I be allowed to come in and ruin that? I had a plan. Gain your trust, be pardoned or put on a watchlist or whatever, leave the tower and live some quiet life as a barista in Harlem or maybe Brooklyn. Maybe even Tribeca. I was content with that plan.” 

“And that was good enough for you?” Tony asked. “Your husband leaving you and hating your guts?” 

“We’ve essentially divorced many times. It doesn’t hurt any less even when I knew you were coming back to me eventually. This was just another one of those times, just permanently. I just wanted both of us safe and as normal as we can be after what’s happened to us.”  

It wasn’t the answer everyone was expecting but it gave them an insight into your mind. No one really had a response. Even thinking about being in your position, they realized they were unsure of what they would have done. 

“What did Karpov mean by the apartment incident?” Bucky asked, thinking about the last log. 

“We were having really good years, no punishments necessary. I think everyone thought you had been perfected. But they had wiped you a little more than they meant to and it sent you into a rampage and you briefly forgot who I was. It’s nothing, Bucky.” 

“It was just like my nightmares, wasn’t it? Just like when I hurt you in that prison cell.” 

“Yes.” You debated lying but knew he hated that. 

“How badly did I hurt you?” 

“I don’t really remember,” you admitted. “The memory is still there but I don’t really remember the physical. It’s probably somewhere in the tapes you reco—”

“FRIDAY, please pul—”

“I don’t think you’ll want to see them, Bucky. I had become so used to Sergeant Barnes and they let you keep most of your memories about us any time you were wiped. It took a while for me to remember that you and the winter soldier weren’t the same person. We weren’t doing well for a while afterwards.”   

“I need to see what I did to you.” 

You didn’t try to argue with him, just nodded ever so slightly. For the first time in person, Steve knew how deeply involved you and Bucky had been. Anyone else would have kept arguing with him. But you could read the micro-expressions on his face and hear the slight bend in his voice that everyone else seemed to miss. You and Steve both knew he needed the closure of remembering everything. 

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he watched you sit up straight when the front door slammed. 

You barely had time to ask what had made him mad before his hand was around the back of your neck and practically dragging you to the kitchen table. Between the hardwood and his metal hand, you felt nothing but pain. 

“Mine,” Bucky muttered, voice with the gravelly tone that came with the winter soldier mode. 

Your hands flailed pathetically as you tried to get him to slow down a bit. 

You excused yourself to the other room, knowing what came next. Your slight trembling as you tried to calm down wasn’t lost on them. They snapped back to attention when you began to beg Bucky — using his title, his first name, and his nickname at different intervals — to continue bruising your cervix rather than begin to prod at your other entrance. 

“We’ve never done this before. James, please, no!” 

The soldier pushed on, not even trying to accommodate as he set his own brutal pace. You watched the clock on the wall just hoping that he’d be finished soon. A sharp cry came from your throat as he practically ripped himself out of you. With a gentler touch than before, your nightgown was pulled back down. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Shit, are you oka—” 

You yanked one of the serrated knives from his tactical gear belt and ran to your bedroom before he could finish his sentence. Bucky didn’t try to get in even though he never heard the door lock. Instead, he kneeled in front of a closed door, forehead resting on it. Tears ran down his face, leaving wet spots on his tactical gear.

“Please, just open the door.” His voice cracked. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. If I had known the Asset was going to rampage then I wouldn’t have come home.”  

The cctv footage switched to inside the room. You were holding the serrated knife out in a fashion that showed you had never learned how to fight with it, shaking like a leaf as you stood as far away from the door as possible until you were up against the wall. 

Bucky thought he was going to throw up at the sight, so familiar in ways to his first nightmare with you here in the tower but different at the same time. Your nightgown — instead of pajama shorts — was bloody mainly on the lower half. The lower half that wasn’t ripped up. Bruises littered your skin, most in the shape of his fingers. Your tears had dried up a while ago but the stains they left behind still trailed along your cheeks. 

The door opened slowly. Bucky nearly jumped to his feet before kneeling back down at your sharp intake of breath. You both looked down at the blood trickle that now landed on your foot. Your trembling resumed. 

“Let me help you with that.”

You flinched. “I-I can do it… I think I just need some time, James.” 

He began to cry again, watching you twist your body so you could avoid touching him. Announcing everything he did so that you wouldn’t be startled, Bucky moved into the second bedroom that was just used as an office and glorified closet. He didn’t bother to look at the catalogs that HYDRA left, he didn’t need another bed. The floor was good enough for now. Bucky didn’t care about comfort but about your wellbeing. 

Every night for a month, Bucky slept on the couch. Whenever your apartment wasn’t turned into a cryo chamber, he’d clutch a pillow so tight that seams were on the verge of ripping and listen to your nightmares. Early one morning, he knocked on the bedroom door and waited for a hitch in your breath. You never answered him but he knew when you were awake. 

“I have a mission. I’ll be gone for two months.” 

✭✭✭✭

You paced back and forth, wringing out your hands. 

“It wasn’t him,” you muttered to yourself, taking deep breaths as you stared at the clock.

He was supposed to be coming home in a couple of hours.

“It wasn’t him. Bucky wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He’s coming home, not the Asset. Bucky wouldn’t hurt me. He didn’t hurt me.” 

It pained the team to watch your panic. You didn’t look like you believed your own words, not that they could blame you. Bucky stopped paying attention to the screen, although he was still listening. Instead his focus was on you in the other room. He could easily see you through the glass, the way your leg kept bouncing up and down as you sat there. 

You turned abruptly when the door started to open. Bucky barely had time to inform you that he was back before you hugged him tightly. You repeated the mantra that you had been saying since the day he left. He stood there frozen for a moment before slowly wrapping both of his arms around you. Both of you sighed for two different reasons as he came to rest his cheek on the top of your head. 

“Thank you for forgiving me, sweetheart,” he whispered, almost afraid to speak out loud and break the fragile reconciliation you two have built up. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I know it wasn’t you, Bucky.” 

“But I scared you all the same. It doesn’t matter what they did to me. I scared you.” 

“I just forgot it wasn’t you.” 

“Don’t do that, doll. Don’t spare my feelings.” 

You nodded and took a breath. “It did terrify me. I-I couldn’t tell the difference between you and the soldier. I can handle it when I know it’s not you but…” 

“I’ll make sure they never let me be home again unless it’s confirmed that it’s just me. Okay?” 

You sniffled but nodded. 

Both you and Bucky jumped at the clap of thunder. He held you closer as if that would drown out the sound of rain hitting the windows, pressing another kiss to your hairline. 

“I’m sorry about that as well.” 

“I know it’s the soldier.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have to know. Write down exactly how you know it’s me and not the soldier.” 

“You want a checklist?” 

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, Y/N. Give me a checklist. How about I go run you a bath and make dinner and we can watch a movie.” 

“They dropped off a new box of vhs tapes. My Neighbor Totoro looks nice. Calm.” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

Bucky got up the moment the footage ended. The same way he could see you, the team could see him through the glass wall. He hugged you tightly, not saying anything but just hugging you. Bucky took your face in both hands. 

“Are you okay? Really, don’t lie to me.” 

“It was more triggering than I thought. Fuck, I should be fine by now.” 

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t do that. You shouldn’t be anything after what’s happened to you. Okay?” 

You nodded, going in for another hug to try and ground yourself. Bucky only pulled away when he felt you finally loosen your hold. 

“Whatever you need from me, I’ll help you. Seriously, Y/N. Even if you want to move out of the tower and to another country, just call me. Even if I’m busy, I’ll make sure Steve or Sam or Nat is there.”

✭

TAGLIST:

@lil-riddle-kiddle @valckenaux @fries11 @blackterrae @violetlilites @dakotali @23victoria @dottirose @marsmallow433 @seventeen-x @vicmc624 @topgun-imagines @hadenough333

[acourtofthought]

My villain origin story is readers who refuse to accept Lucien having a female friend because they need to convince themselves he's not absolutely perfect for Elain so they can freely ship her with Az without having to remember her very loyal mate wants her and only her.

His shoulders were relaxed while talking to Vassa? Why is that romantic? Didn't we see him stroking soothing lines down Feyre's back to comfort her in ACOWAR? Was he secretly in love with her too?

Acknowledging Vassa wants to stop the other queens? He paid compliments to Rhys, Feyre, Nuan, and Jurian too, he's just a good guy who acknowledges others strengths. I mean he thought Az seemed like a decent enough person for goodness sakes.

His eyes sparking at the thought of Vassa enjoying her freedom? So you'd rather he be pissed at the thought of his confirmed friend having a good time?

Feyre gave them a painting name? She gave one to Lucien and Rhys as well, does that mean love will be in the air for Rhycien?

He's irritated at Vassa and Jurian being at one another's throats constantly? So he's supposed to be happy over his roommates constantly arguing?

Lucien about living with Vassa and Jurian:

“Jurian …” Lucien blew out a breath, scanning the carved wood ceiling above. “Thank the Cauldron for him. (based on their logic, Lucien must love Jurian because he's grateful for him!)

“You’d be surprised to see how the three of us get along.” Friends, I realized. They had somehow become his friends.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Lucien in ACOWAR in regards to Elain:

I asked Lucien to escort me, and he’d been more than happy to do so, given that his own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.

“I was obligated to perform the Rite,” Lucien snapped. “That night wasn’t the product of desire, believe me.” “We had fun, you and I.” “I’m a mated male now.”

“Tell me about her—about Elain,” Lucien said quietly. As if the death that squatted in the dark beside us had drawn his thoughts to his own mate as well.

But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.

Lucien. It was Lucien. Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he’d run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.

Lucien shrugged. “First—here. To help. Then …” Another glance at Elain. “Who knows?” I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.” He saw all of it, but nodded graciously. “It would be my pleasure.”

Through the doorway to where Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain’s side

Lucien in ACOFAS in regards to Elain:

“How is she?”

“Good. But is she still …” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Does she still mourn him?”

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.”

Lucien in ACOSF in regards to Elain:

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.

But oh yeah, that Vassa / Lucien romance is totally jumping off the page, she's such a lucky girl to have such a devoted love interest 🤣

[askdrunkjimmy]

Letter Seven - Expected Delivery 5/01/2025

Grant,

I’ve been spending a lot of time with my roommate and I think last night things went too far. He spent so long telling me that you didn’t care, that you didn’t want to be with me anymore and you were just going to abandon me. I have to admit, I started to believe him because you barely reached out.

I don’t really know what to believe anymore.

Last night he crawled into bed with me and things happened. Things I WANTED, and things I really, really regret.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. At the time, I wanted it. He just craved some physical affection and I’m the one who… enticed him, I guess. I brought this up with my therapist before I wrote this letter and he’s helping me work past it. He actually had Colt moved to a different area in the facility and put me in a room by myself.

Apparently, when they ransacked the room they found a lot of contraband too. Phones, condoms, an unmarked bottle of pills… if it’s banned, he had it. I don’t know what will happen to him, but this letter isn’t about him. It’s about me and what I’ve done.

I know we aren’t together, but this sense of obligation towards you is so strong I guess it still feels like we are. Either way, there are some things I feel like I have to say, and hopefully you’ll actually finish reading this letter.

Before all of this, you were the only one I ever slept with. I know you’re about to purse your lips and start counting off names in your head and I’ll stop you before you do- I lied. I lied about every single one. Ego stories, unbelievable events I fabricated to separate myself from you. I did it to make you feel unimportant… and to rid myself of your “ownership”, and yet I’ve always been yours anyway.

I’m sorry that I thought to look for you in someone else. In my mind, somewhere, I decided that pretending it was you was close enough. He didn’t stop me when I said your name and it fed my delusion. I wanted needed it to be you, and it wasn’t. He couldn’t ever be.

I've never faked an orgasm before now.

You always took care of me… made sure I was comfortable and you knew when to stop. I still remember our first time- you were so god damn worried about hurting me you kept asking me if I was okay. It annoyed me back then… I can’t believe the things that used to make me irritated.

I know you won’t be mad, but I’m hoping for some comfort. I feel so gross, and I feel worse knowing he’s catching feelings. I can’t tell if I’m more disgusted with him or with myself. I still have to see and interact with him every day and I don’t know how I’m going to handle that.

I’m just so lonely in here, Grant. I’m so fucking lonely and I miss you so fucking much. Call me when you get this, please.

Love, Jim

[pixiedurango]

Lucanis to F! Mage! Rook (Yvonne) Mercar

Post Veilguard, Rook is busy participating in the repairs of Minrathous. With his obligations Lucanis was forced to go back to Antiva and he miss his lover

Ding Dong! Antivan Postal Service back to deliver! Thank you so much for your ask and the interesting backstory you told me bts about how sweet your Rook and Lucanis' dynamic is. I hope I do it justice and you (and Yv) enjoy.

Transcript:

Yv. My beloved.

One would think the Ossuary would have taught me at least the ability to endure time, but it seems, missing you is a whole new kind of torture. Call me dramatic, but after all you knew what you are in for with an Antivan man. We live and breathe drama and elevate it to whole new levels.

But even without the added drama: I still miss you. Every now and then I see a flower that I know you love, or taste food that is one of your favorites. Even worse… or good… when I catch a scent that reminds me of yours and I am catapulted right back into sweet memories of times, cherished together.

The other day I went to see a ballet. It wasn’t even in the Dellamorte Opera House where my attendance as First Talon would have been obligatory, no! I fully inflicted the sweetest of torments on myself by walking into the Treviso Public Theater to watch Swan Lake. I wished, we could have shared this experience. But since I know it’s not possible at the moment - even with the luxury of short travels via the eluvians - so it was the closest thing I could do to feel like we’re sharing a moment together.

See, Yv, mi amor - it’s hard to top the drama that is an Antivan man, let alone a Crow, when they… feel. And, Maker! Do I feel! Almost forgotten, buried under years, decades - a lifetime of pushing away every emotion in order to be able to to what I was supposed to do. You saved me. In more ways than you think even possible.

Mierda! I had intended to write a lighthearted letter to you, telling about my days as First Talon and only in a sweet undertone there was supposed to be an even sweeter hint of ‘I miss you, hurry, my heart, so we can be together soon again.’ Well, I guess, I royally messed that up! But I am not ashamed to admit it, either. Because I know, that my words will make you smile as you read them and that alone is worth everything to me.

Of course, if you can’t come for a visit, soon - a letter will have to make do, but I hope you’ll tell me everything about how your days are going and how Minrathous is rebuilt up to thrive soon again. But it’s also the little things I long to hear about. Do you eat enough? Sleep well? What made you smile? How many cats have you petted and are you recharging after doing a lot of magic, mi amor? Do you take time off your busy day to do something for yourself? Nourish the soul? Read a novel, listen to the bards, practice your dancing, buy yourself a treat? If not, and I highly suspect, that more often than not, you tend to forget, promise me to take an hour away from duty every day and use it for something beautiful just for yourself.

And of course, if you can’t come over to Treviso any time soon - be assured, that I will elope from my First Talon duties (which are not as tense as first suspected, since Caterina is still technically in charge and unwilling to let go, yet), and find you in Minrathous. I can help with what ever needs to be done and I know you don’t like to accept my gold - but you surely won’t reject the honest work of two willing hands which don’t shy away from getting dirty. And I mean that not even in a Crow way, but quite literally.

So, I’ll let myself be surprised which will find me first - a letter written by your sweet hand, or you in person, which of course I’d vastly prefer.

Stay safe. Try not to kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it and promise me to at least try to do any of the things I suggested above. It will do you good, believe me! It makes a difference - I can tell, because I try to remember and take times off like this for myself more frequently. Remember? To live life, means to live it fully. We may not have been able to do it back then - but we can choose to do it. From now on and forever. I love you!

Yours always ~ Lucanis

find all the other Antivan Postal Service letters here Rules for application to get your own letter here Veilguard faction dividers from here, thank you @flowersforthemachines

[mermaids-and-robots]

Title: Sweet As Candy Summary: Reader's always had a crush on her best friends dad, Simon "Ghost" Riley. He returns home late from a Halloween party and her secret gets out. Word count: 3,179 Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female Reader Warnings/Additional tags: 18+, smut/lemon, age difference, loss of virginity, oral sex, vaginal sex, dad Simon, tactical gear/mask/glove fetish, swearing. Originally posted to AO3 on July 23, 2024. AO3 link

It's Halloween night and the kids are out trick-or-treating. You and your childhood friend have outgrown collecting candy from strangers, and have instead opted for a sleepover that's full of horror movies, ghost stories, and of course, candy; Bought from the store by the courtesy of her dad Simon Riley.

He's been a single dad for as long as you can remember and your friend much preferred it that way. She was too young to have memories about their divorce but her mother didn't want any custody, and Simon wasn't about to let that witch be near his only child. She begged and pleaded with Simon about having a kid but, as much as he wanted to, he told her, "It's not the right time." Between deployment and never ending war, he wasn't sure when his next time home, alive, would be. There was a small window of peace and they had a kid, who would come to be your best friend since pre-school.

However, your friends mom changed her mind quick after giving birth. She went to doctors, psychiatrists, and therapists but she was never diagnosed with post-partum depression, psychosis, anxiety, or anything within the realm of post-partum blues. She blamed Simon for her not loving her newborn and it broke his heart to hear this. She wanted a child for so long and now she hated being a mother.

When it became too much, he gave her an ultimatum - Either clean up your act, or divorce was imminent and he would be leaving if she didn't sign the papers. She was more than happy to oblige and this, on top of not being the mother she begged him to make her, shattered him. He kept pushing forward, though... He had to for his daughter.

Now after all these years, you and your best friend are 19 and work at the same restaurant as waitresses. It doesn't pay much so she still lives with her dad and you with your parents.

On the other hand, Simon has tried his hand at dating and it's not so easy in this modern day. Everything is on an app and he hates that aspect. He wants to meet someone face to face and have dinner with them. Not swipe to match with someone, talk for two months, and then inevitably get ghosted by them. He's had a few girlfriends since the divorce but none of them worked out for one reason or another. He likes the companionship of having a significant other, but he knows that it's better to be single and miss having someone, than it is to have a partner and be miserable.

Being that she's your childhood friend, you grew up at her house in a way. If your parents were having a date night, Simon would always let you stay over and spend the night. If they were going out of town, his home was yours for as long as you needed it. You and your friend were like sisters. But then, what does that make Simon to you? Is he like a second dad? Maybe an uncle or possibly an older brother?

You never tried to think too much about it, specifically as you became a teenager, because you always thought he was cute. Your friend asked you once when you were eight, "Ew! Do you have a crush on my dad?" because she caught you watching him a bit too long. You denied it because, even though you thought he was cute, you didn't have a crush on him and those were your true feelings. Then again, you were still a young child and not sure how to sort through the expanse of emotions that came with having a crush.

It seemed so easy as a kid to have a crush on someone because it never went further than that. There was no commitment and no sex. But, as teenagers do, their bodies go through rapid changes which can be a confusing time for anyone. Sure, you had your crushes at school on various boys in your classes. You mulled over the feelings you had for a few girls as well. It was a confusing time that flustered you to no end. But, those deep rooted feelings for Simon were lingering and only got stronger as you grew.

You would stay up at night asking yourself if you've always felt this way about him because it was hard to deny that, yes, you think he's nice to look at, but that doesn't mean you have to or do like him. Right?

But then the thoughts of sex enter your mind, as they do with anyone, and it made you feel strange. It was inappropriate to think of sex at all, at least that's what you were taught. Most of all, it was inappropriate to think of sex with your best friends dad. He's much older than you, and you always thought he had a girlfriend even though that wasn't a topic he talked about around you girls.

But now, at 19, you know for sure the feelings you've had towards Simon were, in fact, a crush the whole time. It was simply too much for your brain to process as a child and teen, and even coming to accept the fact you do like him "that way" has been difficult to take.

Your friend hasn't brought up the subject since you were children and you're grateful for that. It would be even weirder now because you know it's taboo and why.

Currently, Simon's out at a Halloween party. Your friend told you it's because he wants to try dating again, but she doubts it'll go anywhere if something does happen.

You're sat up in her bedroom watching classic horror movies and chowing on snacks while talking about work drama. The hours creep on as the two of you holler and giggle at the movies and gossip.

You wake up in a cold sweat, emerging from a dream that was becoming a nightmare of a movie you watched. You're both still sat in the bean bags that are in front of the TV, which has been off for a while now. You reach down and feel your phone on the floor, clicking the home button to see that it's 1:14 in the morning.

Your mouth feels like a desert and you quietly make your way out of her room, heading downstairs for a glass of water. The light is on in the kitchen, which isn't unusual, but as you round the corner you see Simon. He's still in his costume, which is just his tactical gear.

He turns to see what the noise was and sees you. "Oh, hi." he says. You nod at him, still half asleep. You grab a cup and fill it at the sink.

"When did you get home?" you ask with a yawn.

"'Bout half an hour ago," he answers in his gruff voice, "When did you girls pass out?"

You shrug and take a drink. "No idea," you answer and take another drink, "I just know we fell asleep in the middle of... whatever the hell we were watching." You let out a playful giggle.

He looks at you, eyes gazing at you through the cut outs of the skull mask, and his intense look makes you feel a certain way.

"She told me you were at a party?" you ask in an attempt to calm your nerves.

He nods. "Yeah," then he pauses, "I'm tryin' to put myself out there again. It's hard."

You finish the glass of water and place it in the sink. Simon walks past you, the scent of his musk and faint cologne intoxicating within your nostrils, and he wanders into the living room. You follow and sit on the couch with him. He has his arms splayed out on either side of the headrest and it shows off his muscles, even under his tac gear. The gloves form perfectly around his fingers.

He notices your eyes scanning him and he breaks the silence. "I usually don't tell her about dating stuff."

"Is it weird?” you ask him.

"Not weird, just... not something she needs t' know about. I don't want her thinkin' I'm trying to get her a new mom or that I'm not serious about dating."

"Are you scared for her to date?"

He takes a breath in, the air sifting through the mask and into his nose, then he breathes out. "I am," he says earnestly, "and that's another thing - I'm scared for her to see how dating is."

You look at him, curious, since you've yet to date anyone.

"People are odd," he tells you, "and men can be very strange, 'specially to young girls. Not sayin' that you and her aren't smart, but even if you're careful there's still gonna be that one guy that ruins it."

You inquire about the women, figuring that if the men are creeps, then the women are nicer.

"They're not too much better most of the time. Lots of 'em want you to be the new daddy or trap you into giving them their next kid. Some of 'em want you t' spend all your money on them and spoil them. Then you got the ones who want someone extra in their marriage. It's all a joke."

"I'm sorry. That sounds rough." It's all you can give for consolation because you're not sure what else to say, and it's very unfamiliar ground for you.

"It's like I want someone to be with but I want to already know them."

You let out a joke that, in retrospect, you probably shouldn't have, but nothing was stopping you from saying it. "Well you know me," you jest. Simon shoots you a look with his expressive eyes and, even behind the mask, you can sense that joke made him question you with a smirk.

"I'm sorry!" you blurt out, "I didn't mean it like that. I just- it was a joke!"

He laughs and tells you that it's okay, but then says, "You're right though, Y/N." You look at him, wondering what he means. "I do know you."

"Yeah?" you let out with a shy tone, not sure where this is going.

"And if I didn't know any better, then I wouldn't think you've had a crush on me for years."

Your face heats up and flushes red. Just as it does, he scoots closer to you as his hands snake towards you, taking your hand in his to pull you in gently. You feel like there's no way around it, no lying to him.

"H-how did you know?"

"I've seen the way you look at me," he breathes out and pulls your body to him with a tug. "Remember last year when you turned 18?" You do, and vividly. You had a birthday party at the beach, your friend and Simon among the guests. You were wearing a hot pink bikini. It was brand new and you were NOT going to miss the opportunity to wear it in front of him. You could've swore he kept looking at you, too, eyes wandering over your body and taking in every curve, staring a bit too long at your boobs and ass, licking his lips when he saw your legs.

"Y-yeah," you breathe out, "why?"

Your body is right up against his now, his breath hot on your neck. He places his masked lips to your neck and the fabric brushes onto you. All of this mixes with how he smells and it drives your eyes closed and floods your mind with sinful thoughts. Nothing good can come from this.

"You looked so damn fine," he admits, "and I wanted to jus' fuckin' take you away from the crowd and have my way with you." He kisses you with an open mouth through the mask, the thin sheet of it not able to keep away any moisture. He's so warm on your skin. His gloved hand cups at your breast and he can feel the squish that only happens when there's no bra. He takes a sharp breath in.

"And why didn't you?" you ask meekly, shy to do any amount of flirting and dirty talk.

"'Cause it's not socially acceptable for men my age to fuck pretty girls your age."

"It's not illegal though." you wonder out loud.

"No, it's not," he agrees, "but it makes people ask questions." Another kiss to your neck, this time in a new spot, and it's hotter and needier than the last.

"Tell me, Y/N, are you a virgin?"

"Y-yeah..." you answer with a shaky voice. You hope you know what's going to happen, because you're soaked and you hate to admit it.

"I'll be gentle with ya, then."

You moan out softly and try to stifle it, but he encourages you. "Let me hear you, Y/N. Don't worry about her."

"But Simon-"

"Shh. Call me Ghost tonight." His piercing eyes go right through you, and they alone cause you so many feelings to swell within your tummy.

He lays you back on the couch and he moves himself down until his face is even with your heated center. He removes your bottoms and panties with one swift motion and tosses them behind him. With his other hand, he wiggles his mask up and out of his collar, exposing only his lips and the tip of his nose. His hands now rest on your thighs, caressing you and pulling you closer to him.

His lips find your clit and lock themselves around it, wasting no time in giving you the pleasure that you oh so much deserve to have. Even after tasting so little of you, he buries himself into you, horny to have more. He damn near sucks your clit off of you, or so it feels, and he finally frees it from his lips. His tongue now trails over it causing you to yelp and your hand clasps around your mouth. He stares at you with a serious look, reminding you that he wants to hear you.

Your hand falls away and you sigh out, mentally guessing what he might do next. He licks down your clit to your entrance now, licking and lapping in circles as he gathers your arousal, only to bring it back up to your clit again. He teases you with his tongue and it has you squirming within his arms in just a few seconds, his hold on you firm but not tight or painful.

He splays his tongue out and gives slow, broad licks to your cunts entire length, coming back up to your nub and sucking it back between his lips; slightly into his mouth as the tip of his tongue flicks at it. His ministrations have your back arched and your legs spasming helplessly around his head, threatening to close shut and snap his neck. He persists though, reveling in the ecstasy of the taste of you. Fresh and nubile.

"F-fuck, Si- Ghost! I-I'm - I think I'm about to-" You stumble over your words, giving you little time to get many out before your first orgasm washes over you. Your walls constrict and your juices squelch out of you onto his tongue as he licks up everything you give him. He lets you ride out your pleasure on his face as he takes it all in.

Once your wave has passed, he sits up and helps you to stand, removing your shirt in the process. He then pulls you down into his lap and you can feel his solid cock warm against your inner thighs. He was quick to free himself. He holds onto you and steadies you with his hands on your waist, your perky breasts in his face and just out of reach. He hastily pulls his mask back down to its original position and gives you a stern look, one that he knows you like.

A hand goes to his member and he swipes himself through your soaking wet lips. He gathers your moisture and prods at your hole which is more than ready to take him. You're mentally preparing yourself for what's to come.

His eyes lock with yours and he holds his cock still as he lowers you with his other hand on your hip, slowly making your way down his long, thick cock. He throbs all the way in your tight pussy, and finally his spongy tip hits the hilt, buried entirely inside of you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and he holds you in both arms, strong and flexed against you, taking in how he feels. He breathes heavily as he begins with small thrusts, hands once more on your hips as he raises you and lowers you on him. He offers words of encouragement as you take him, "Atta girl," escaping from his mouth every so often as your pussy slurps up and down his cock.

He picks up the pace and eventually, he's full on fucking you, forcefully pulling you up to let you slam back down onto him. He pants out every time you do this as your tight, virgin cunt is almost too much for him to handle.

"Fuck, Y/N, jus' like that, baby girl." His voice is strained and rough in your ears, the excitement becoming too much for him to handle.

As for yourself, you're not sure what to feel when you're about to cum, but there's a warm coil in your stomach that gets tighter with each thrust he gives you. Your walls clench around him, seemingly more each time.

A gloved hand goes to your rear and squeezes it; Ghost marking you as his.

"You like that? Course ya do. My good girl, all mine. Fuckin' so glad I'm your first."

The head of his dick repeatedly brushes over a sensitive spot inside of you and it makes you squeak, voice hitching. He helps guide you through it. "That's it, Y/N. You're almost there."

"Ghost," you beg, "Ghost- fuck!- make me cum."

With that cute, sexy voice of yours, he'd do anything, and he drives into you harder than before, causing the springs in the couch to squeak.

"Ghost!" His name is a prayer falling from your lips as your eyes shut tight, head resting on his shoulder again. "Fuck!" is all you can say as your second orgasm hits you with a force so unimaginable, it nearly leaves you breathless.

Simon doesn't let himself hang on for one more moment and he shoots his cum inside of you, hot semen coating your gummy walls as your pussy squeezes him, milking him for all he's worth.

He breathes heavy through his mask as he holds onto you, the last of his seed spurting inside.

The realization of what just happened dawns on him as your head is still in the clouds.

"We can't tell anyone about this." he says to you with faint disappointment in his voice.

[cute-little-fly]

I have seen this debate on twitter and I didn’t know it was done by fans of Stolitz and all of that. They are allowed to dislike it, of course, but my god I disagree with everything you are telling here that they say at so many levels.

I think the huge miss right here is that Stolas needed to know that Blitzø cares about him as much as he does.

The only way to prove him that is to have a scenario in which Blitzø had to save him. It’s not the same to take care of someone that to be willing to risk your life for them. Less for Stolas. He is usted to have servants that take care of him for obligation. He is not used to see that as a language of love; so he feels Blitzø is okay with it but that’s different that pouring your entire love and care into someone and realizing it you know? In Sinsmas Stolas saw in a lot of different ways that he is not an obligation to Blitzø and that was important.

At the end of the episode, Blitzø danced and stayed with Stolas even when be knew he didn’t have to. Stolas is slowly realizing he is being cared for and what that is like.

It was also an opportunity for Blitzø to finally protect Stolas. Blitzø love language is also to protect his loved ones. He does this continuously to Loona and MyM. Now he could do it for Stolas and that was also important for him. I bet he felt good about it.

This also is a comeback from their argument at Apology Tour. When Stolas thought Blitzø would never go and save him because he thought he would never go and save or help a Goetia while Stolas had saved Blitzø twice (to be fair Blitzø did tried to save him in WE but Stolas doesn’t know how much he cared). And now he has been proven wrong and it is clear how this is a culmination of all what Season 2 serves with these two.

Coming back to the fight. Also; the way we get to that moment serves as a climax for the episode, that for me would have been very flat without that.

So many people complain that it’s always only about Stolitz and the helluva girls are ignored, and with this fight Loona and Octavia had a great opportunity to shine that wasn’t missed.

Really there is nothing about this fight that is not good for the series. Literally nothing.

The call back to Moxxie and the clap inside the sea monster and Blitzø falling inside was also an important step. Blitzø fell into the monster and there was Stolas and with the help of IMP he has the sword he needed to liberate him.

The fight is messy but everything is completely unplanned and it shows how much they can improvise in the middle of a fight.

To end this comment, I liked very much a reading an user made (I don’t remember if it was you OP or someone else, I would credit if I remembered), about how Blitzø is this kind of character that makes things that looked unlikely or impossible true.

How his dream of having a company and a family looks so unlikely at the start of his life and now is a reality. Then, he does the same for Stolas.

He is actually saving him from his trapped life, and this is being displayed symbolically in the fight. He motivated Stolas to look for liberation and now he is saying to him: your dreams and fantasies are not stupid, and you had all the right to have them, because you felt bad and trapped. Your feelings and dreams matter and I want to make them true.

People take at so much face value when Stolas said: “Stupid fantasies” when he is having a breakdown, and they don’t realize he has been punishing himself the entire episode for wanting things for himself in the first place. He thinks he needed to stay in his place :( and that is so NOT OKAY. He fucked up by projecting these fantasies and getting so caught up into them, true, but also, the situation he was in was not okay for him, and those fantasies were his only escape.

The situation of the Karen is meant to highlight this. He said that probably the guy deserves to be killed, and he is willing to risk being killed for Octavia because he doesn’t care about his safety anymore :(

I like how this fight and episode shows all their journey in a symbolical way. Octavia watches them and get mad at that because all the fight probably triggered her further for the same reason.

I totally get everyone has preferences and their own likes and dislikes, but it still baffles me when people say the Andrealphus fight was their least fave scene in Sinsmas and some even wish it wasn't in the episode at all....

Like, respectfully disagree /gen, but that is literally my fave scene in Sinsmas (at most it's tied with the balcony dance) on top of Sinsmas being my fave episode in the entire show and I can't think of a single scene in that episode I genuinely didn't like.

What can I say, I'm a simple girl. I see a damsel in distress getting rescued by their knight in shining armor as they kiss while falling through the sky and I fold!

Not to mention it ends with Octavia being a total badass! And then it goes right into heartbreak, ahahaaaa... I'm fine.

[paintpanic]

A new batch of drawing prompts for you to play with this coming October! Enjoy!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok a line has been crossed and I am not ok with it on any level. Trolling is never ever ok.

After one of them made a comment on my correctly tagged post (now blocked and reported) they have clearly made a post about it with my url @‘d and as a result I have just had my inbox spammed by over 30 (and climbing) bt stans on anon telling me my url is offensive and they they hope I and Eddie get stage 4 terminal cancer so my url will actually be a relevant reference to something.

The originator was clearly looking to cause trouble by coming into the anti tags after the episode.

I am fully aware the people who actually need to see this won’t but saying that to anyone regardless of ship or fandom or anything is seriously hideous behaviour and it’s not ok.

It makes it very clear they are new to the 911 fandom and have never seen any bts stuff pre s7 especially related to Eddie. For those who don’t know stage four Eddie diaz is a reference to a post Ryan made about Eddie’s new haircut and job going into 5b (Eddie’s breakdown era).

Regardless of that that is an awful thing to wish on a character on a show. That is wishing death on them.

But the biggest and most problematic part of it all is the wishing terminal cancer or any stage of cancer for that matter on someone - a real life human being who opens up their inbox and sees those messages.

A real life human being who may be affected by cancer in their real not online life. A real person who might be enjoying an escape from the reality of cancer and cancer treatment through fandom.

I don’t have cancer but I did loose my mother to cancer when I was 18. It’s not something I would wish on my worst enemy.

The entire thing has left me feeling upset. Fandom is supposed to be a safe and enjoyable space if you cannot respect other peoples opinions and ships then maybe don’t engage with fandom.

They won’t win - I’m made of stronger stuff then that but I cannot let it go without saying anything more widely because who knows what others are getting in their inboxes that might have an impact on their mental health and well-being.

[mankillercalledbunny]

The future will not be a heavenly hacienda, but here on this bruised earth, in the face of an inevitable entropic ending, bodies will carry on (for the time being at least) the incomplete (uncompleteable) work of keeping entropy at bay. Such activity is neither to be condemned nor condoned: not here, not in the work. It is repetitive work—some of it delegated to tools, some of it carried out by human agents—and it is uneven, sometime monstrously catastrophic, in its effects. But it is all we have got.

Ben Highmore, "Memories of Catastrophes Yet to Come: New Brutalism and Thing-Memory" in Performing Memory in Art and Popular Culture (edited by Liedeke Plate, and Anneke Smelik)

I have never been knocked flat on my back by the close of an academic text like this one. Wow. Holy shit.

[motleyfam]

heyy i was just curious, ive gotton into dc recently but i dont know which comics to read/where to read them, was wondering if you could offer some advice on that front :)

mostly interested in batman/fam, also superman/fam and the flash/fam

So when I first got into Batman, I started at my local library. I checked out a TON of comic anthologies from all different runs and I just kinda skimmed through to see which ones most appealed to me and read those. I loved Batgirl/Robin year one, Super-Sons, Young Justice ‘98, Lil Gotham, and the We Are Robin runs in particular. Then I ended up subscribing to DC Universe for a while to be able access tons of comics without ads (since the ads on the free online sites drove me absolutely nuts and I wanted to be able to download them to read offline) but I know tons of people make it work on sites like “readcomicsonline.li” with ad blockers and good antivirus software.

Later I discovered that what I enjoyed a lot more than the traditional comic format were the DC graphic novels, for example:

Back in 2020-2022ish, I read every single one I could get my hands on through my library and had a ton of fun. They’re great one-sitting books.

What I would recommend is just getting a ton of different comics for free—either online or from the library—and seeing what appeals to you most. I say this because I also tried it the other way — searching out rec lists and “starter packs” of what people online said were the most vital runs for various characters, and while I’m glad I was able to get that exposure to the story straight from the source material… it wasn’t the most enjoyable way to explore comics for me. It kind of felt like homework, making myself to-read lists of all these runs I wasn’t particularly interested in for whatever reason (didn’t like the art, didn’t like the storyline, didn’t have enough humor, etc etc), and that’s the fastest way to drain the fun right out of something.

The best decision I ever made in my comic reading journey was to just read the ones that appealed to me and leave the rest, and not spend a lot of time wondering whether or not that made me a fake fan. At the end of the day, hobbies are for having fun.

[not-kamenx]

Beyblade X Episode 36: Bladership

Never has an episode made me more calm and relaxed as Packun gets a slap of reality and realizes he can’t continue being a thief forever. I thought him copying Hammer Incendio was just a one time thing— NO, THIS GUY HAS BEEN DOING IT FOR A WHILE 😭

Seeing Multi try to make a relaxed expression while wanting to throw hands with Packun is sure something. She probably has a lot of experience in having to keep a calm face for the audience but man, the urge to just jump over the stadium and yeet Packun to Jupiter is still there

IM SO GLAD THAT PACKUN DIDNT HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO STEAL MORE DATA OR ELSE I WOULDVE SCREAMED. Multi just practically stood there and won the battle too, and that was just really funny to me somehow. Like Packun had this whole plan with Hammer Incendio and having these weird fantasies of one shotting Persona’s team before losing to Multi.

MY MANS THOUGHT HE HAD A CHANCE AGAINST JAXON OF ALL PEOPLE. HE REALLY THOUGHT HE WAS GONNA BEAT MULTI AND CRUSH JAXON??? That’s just laughable, you really thought you could beat him, out of all people??? That’s like him challenging Chrome or Sigrid to a battle and expecting to win

then Miss Myoden and Taisho sending Multi the footage of when Packun stole the data for her to project it. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT THE PEAK OF THE EPISODE. But that made me question something like 😭 can anyone just project something at any time. Is it certain Bladers who have permission??? Did Multi just hack the 4X System to show Packun’s crime??? LIKE???

and then people starting throwing their Packun merch at him. Bro had all these (actual) fans and dolls thrown at him and he somehow didn’t flinch, how does one gain that ability? BUT I SCREAMED WHEN ROBIN TOLD THE AUDIENCE TO STOP

Robin with all due respect! STOP SHOWING KINDNESS TO YOUR BULLIES. TAKUMI SHATTERED YOUR BEY WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT AND YOU WERE LIKE “NUH UH” WHEN HE WENT TO QUIT BLADING. WHEN YOU MET HINA AND HAD ALL THOSE PROBLEMS WITH THOSE BULLIES AND THEY USED DIRTY TRICKS TO WIN YOU JUST SIMPLY DELETED THE FOOTAGE AND WAS LIKE “there :)” AND NOW WITH PACKUN. YOU WERE READY TO THROW HANDS BEFOR SEEING HIS BACKSTORY AND BEING LIKE “wait guys don’t bully him!” PLEASE.

boy he disrespected you AND Multi by stealing her creations and publicly humiliating you and saying the worst things to you and writing off your hard work as something only weak people tell themselves

and you just hold the doll and are like “hey you can start over again” while he slaps it out of your hand and says he hates sympathy from people like you ROBIN GET AWAY FROM THIS GUY YOU DONT NEED TO BE EVERYONES THERAPIST

then Packun is like “guys I wouldn’t do that Multi is lying that’s probably AI” well I didn’t expect the AI argument to come up kudos to him for that point brought up I’ll give him that much BUT STUPID HOW ELSE WOULD YOU BE ABLE TO COPY A BEY THAT PERFECTLY and he tries to stall the All-Stars battle to keep his loss off record

then our Queen Manju is like “we’re not cancelling shit get on with the show” Good. GOOD.

overall opinion of this episode: baby bird stop trying to be nice to everyone some don’t deserve it, Multi you ATE, and Jaxon has like a second shot where he’s just standing I CANT WAIT WHEN HE BATTLES thats if Multi doesn’t win ofc