#because if it is then it is not good hate. anon you get bad grade in hate mail

[fagonardo]

Faggot

[jaylaxies]

CALL ME WHEN YOU HATE ME LESS

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader (ft. jaehyun and heeseung).

GENRE/CW: smut, angst, eventual fluff, porn with plot, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, blowjob, using panties as a gag, spitting kink, edging, squirting, slight overstimulation, mentions of fighting, blood, usage of nicknames, slowburn if you squint, emotional trauma, lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 18,321 words. (18.3k)

SYNOPSIS: Jake Sim was a walking academic hazard—hot, broody, and failing just about everything that wasn’t football. Enter you, his new tutor: organized, overachieving, and absolutely not here for his attitude or his annoyingly perfect lips. But between late night study sessions, petty insults, and one very inconvenient almost-kiss, things start spiraling—fast. He’s supposed to be you project. You are supposed to hate him. Instead, you both are one sarcastic comment away from either a breakdown or a makeout, and honestly, it could go either way.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni (the full fic will include smut).

A/N: hihi, angels! if you have seen this before then yes, it is a revamp of my jeno fic as requested by a few anons! i hope you guys will enjoy it! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Chapter 1: Raised in Shadows, Told to Shine. 

Comparison. 

The core of all insecurities. The onset of overthinking. The path to self loathing. 

That’s what comparison does to a person—drive them to the edge of insanity in hopes of turning into something; into someone the others will look up to, compare themselves to. 

It was a bad thing per se, but it was motivation enough for Jake to work harder in order to leave the country, to get away from his family. 

The reason? His mother ever so conveniently happened to have fallen in love with a rich guy, someone who never knew what struggle meant, and Jake was just four back then, he didn’t bother changing his surname. It didn’t take much time for him to settle into the lifestyle, however, no matter how much he could have prepared to face his step-brother, he simply couldn’t bother looking him in the eye. 

Why? Because he was known to be the epitome of perfection. Jung Jaehyun was the son every parent wanted, the student every teacher was fond of, the doctor every nurse wanted to work with. 

The sweet dimple on his cheek was a great asset in melting the hearts of everyone in his proximity or afar. 

Jake on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t considered to be enough, especially when he got decent grades throughout his school life, he wasn’t a bother, kind to those who were around them, but it changed. 

It changed when he got daily reminders of how he wasn’t even close to how amazing and successful his step brother was. 

That’s when things started looking down for Jake. He stopped caring about the grades, he wasn’t sure why he was supposed to put up a I’m so good, so smart act in front of others when there was no reason for him to do that. 

Others didn’t bother doing the same for him. 

Rather, he tried to work upon the only thing he was passionate about, the only thing that mattered to him—football. 

Despite winning several trophies for playing the sport, his parents labelled it to be useless, which broke the last fragment of his heart, shattering it to the point of no return. 

Which would explain his current demeanor—moody, permanent scowl on his perfectly sculpted face and no care for the others around him. His sole focus being football, which is also the reason behind his current dilemma. 

“Being an excellent player in the sports team does not guarantee you your scholarship, Mr. Sim,” Jake’s teacher incharge spoke up, taking off her specs right after reviewing his annual grade report, “you’re failing three out of five modules, and if you don’t start getting back on track soon, then I’m afraid you won’t be able to play in the team anymore.” 

Fuck. 

Jake had been neglecting his studies, he admits, yet he never thought that he’d reach this point. It’s not that he wasn’t smart, he simply had no motivation to go on with his studies. His parents could easily pay the university to keep him around, however, he wanted nothing from them, which also explains why he got himself a scholarship in the first place. 

“I’m sorry if I’m late.” Jake’s eyes snapped wide open, turning back to see his step brother entering the teacher’s cabin. 

“Why are you here?” Jake asked, a muscle in his jaw twitching but Jaehyun only smiled. 

Jake’s professor was equally stunned, probably even more with her jaw wide open at the appearance of such a handsome young man. 

“I called him in since your parents were busy,” his professor said, handling Jake a letter, “go and find your tutor in the council room, she’ll be helping you with the upliftment of your grades, Mr. Lee, and now if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got to fill in your brother with your current situation,” she said the last part awfully sweetly as Jaehyun sat down in one of the vacant chairs, smiling at her kind tone. 

Jake scoffed, the demeanor change around Jaehyun went crazy and he wasn’t a fan of it, especially when he was called in to complain about his mistakes. 

He simply wanted to leave the university and never come back. 

He waited, taking deep breaths before punching the wall, not being able to contain his anger. The impact did hurt, yet he paid no heed to it, the blood dripping as he walked towards the council room to get over with the day. 

The name written on the sheet wasn’t unfamiliar to him, rather it only wearied the already infuriated boy as he knocked on the door of the student council room, which was empty except for you sitting there, working on a few papers which appeared to be the newsletter for the month. 

“Come in,” you allowed, not looking up as Jake made his way inside the room, observing the surroundings where he’s never been before. 

Then he looked your way, taking in your appearance. You looked cozy in your university varsity jacket, your specs sitting on your nose as you buried yourself in reading whatever it was that you were reading. He couldn’t deny you looked pretty in a way that’s comforting to eyes. 

With no words exchanged, he pushed the letter towards you, which finally made you look up at the source of disturbance, your eyebrows raising slightly as you most certainly did not expect the star football player to visit you in the council room, which he’s never been to before. 

He simply stood there, hands shoved into his pockets while still looking around, and you took a second to grab the letter, skimming over to read and understand that the letter was given by Mrs. Kim, the teacher in charge of your department, requesting you to take up the few teaching sessions you had applied for, Jake being the student you’ll have to teach for the same. 

You clicked your tongue, folding the letter exactly as it was before pushing it his way, your arms folding across your chest as you finally spoke up, “I reject. I don’t wish to teach you.”

His eyes were quick to snap towards you, finally staring right into your own eyes, irritation clear as he pushed his tongue on his inner cheek, eyebrow raised. 

“Aren’t you supposed to kiss your professor’s feet, given that you’re in student council? And here I thought you’d be a good girl.” Jake rasped, resting his arms on your table, leaning down to your level. 

You chuckled, expecting the exact response from him, “this is exactly why I don’t want to waste my time on you—you athletes don’t wish to study, you just require a passing grade, for which, I don’t have time to spare.” 

“What the fuck do you mean waste your time?” 

“Sim Jake, you’ve got more money with you than your bank account can handle, so I’m sure losing your scholarship won’t do you much harm,” you said with a sickening smile, “you’ve got no interest in studying, your attendance record states that oh so proudly.” 

“You don’t know shit about me,” Jake seethed out, messy hair strands falling over his eyes. 

“I know everything I need to know about you. Now excuse me, unlike you, I actually have work to do,” you said, passing him a tight lipped smile, not letting the proximity faze you. 

“You—” 

Jake’s sentence was cut short with two sharp knocks on the slightly ajar door, a head peeking in, successfully garnering your attention. You could feel your mood doing one eighty with the sudden intrusion of this stranger—whom you didn’t wish to be a stranger around anymore, your eyes softening, lips parting as you stared at him in awe. 

Meanwhile, if Jake thought that the day was done being a bitch to him, then he was wrong because the level of irritation that bubbled up in him the moment he saw the change in your expressions. 

“Sorry to interrupt, may I get in?” Jaehyun asked, smiling his usual dimpled smile, which had you swooning in record time. 

You could practically see veins of frustration popping out on Jake’s neck, “no. Your work is done, you should head back home,” he groaned, but Jaehyun only looked you way, continuing to get in, looking your way. 

“I’m Jaehyun, Jake’s elder brother. I can’t thank you enough for agreeing on giving him tutoring lessons, especially with how busy you must be with council duties,” he spoke up, shaking your hand, which was smaller in his warm, big hands. 

Jake scoffed, “she’s not—”

“Of course, Jaehyun! It’s my pleasure to help him out, and it’ll only help me better with my extracurricular credits! It’s no problem,” you nodded, a gentle smile on your face as your eyes practically twinkled with excitement, taking in the beauty that Jaehyun beheld. 

It was ridiculous. 

It was absurd how just two sentences; paired with a sweet smile from his brother, were enough for you to change your decision, in the span of two seconds at that. 

He tightened the hold he had on the strap of his black bag, “no fucking need. I’ll find another tutor,” Jake deadpanned, walking out of the room, not paying attention to Jaehyun who called out his name in the background. 

He wouldn’t let you use him to get to his brother. 

With that thought, he decided to detour and make his way to the gym, trying to blow off steam by practicing punching, each one getting progressively stronger as his mind replayed the difference in your behaviour when it came to him and his brother. 

It didn’t bother him that his knuckles were bruising, he knew he needed this extrinsic pain to get rid of the obvious hurt he felt each day. 

And he couldn’t understand why he felt so affected by your actions, especially when it was the first time you had met. 

Jealousy was indeed a bitch. 

Chapter 2: Surrendered to the skirt. 

Two days passed by and Jake’s mood showed no progress in terms of improving, rather, he felt worse each time the memory invaded his brain. He tried his best to sit down and open the first module of the unit he had to study. 

It’s not like he was bad at studying, he was just a bit out of practice, and well, his mental health wasn’t doing much to help him get any better. 

Just when he was about to actually get a hang of getting into the topic, the doorbell rang. His parents were out for business, as usual, and his step brother was busy doing morning shifts, which meant that he was alone at the mansion, minus the myriad of worker staff they had to take care of the place. 

Essentially, he had to get down to see who it was at the door, only to spot you leaning against the doorframe as one of the attendants had asked you to wait. He stopped, observing you from the staircase as you typed something on your phone. 

Why were you here after clearly rejecting him? Why were you here when he’s clearly told you he doesn’t want you to be his tutor?

Scoffing, he walked down the stairs and towards you, standing right in front of you, clearly invading your personal space as he decided to lean against the same side of the thick door frame with his brows raised.

You took a second to take in his appearance as he was clad in casual gray sweatpants with a blank tank, which honestly did nothing to hide his muscles. 

“Why are you here?” Jake asked with a bored tone. 

“I’m here to teach you, remember?” You gave him a pointed look. 

“And I clearly told you I don’t wish to study from you, it’s better if you leave now. I’ll just tell Mrs. Kim that you taught me,” he said, almost turning back to go inside. 

“And have them wondering how you failed even after getting tutored by me? Yeah, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, inviting yourself in without second thoughts. 

“Y/n, I’m not fucking kidding, you should leave. Besides, the one you came for isn’t at home at the moment,” he muttered bitterly. 

That caught your attention, “oh? Busy with a job then?” You asked, looking around the exquisite paintings hung at the entrance of his place. 

“Are you gonna leave or do I have to call the guards to escort you out?”

You chuckled, “you really don’t want the previous year questions I have? The council students get them each year you see, they’re bound to guarantee you good marks,” you explained with a smirk. 

Jake groaned, his lip bitten as he tried to think if tolerating you would be worth the questions, but his football career was at stake and there was no better option but to accept it. 

“What’s the catch?” Jake asked after a few seconds, sighing with defeat. 

“Nothing at all. We both know that you need these papers to get the grade that you wanna achieve and I’ll get my extra credits,” you reason. 

“You just wanna meet my brother,” he said dryly, “either way, you won’t get to see a lot of him, he’s always at the hospital, working and being the perfect son he is. Plus, he’s definitely not into uni students,” he looked you up and down, soon gulping and looking elsewhere. 

You were clad in a pretty skirt which showed off your legs—which you did wear in hopes of crossing paths with Jaehyun, but you completely missed how Jake was staring at your body. 

He wasn’t sure if it was out of hatred that he stared at you, or it was admiration because you were one of those people he despised���overachievers.  

You were in the student council, got good grades and professors favoured you, it wouldn’t be a surprise if your parents loved you for being the ideal daughter. It most certainly didn’t help that your appearance seemed as if you were the sweetest, kindest angel on earth, which wasn’t the case when you were around Jake though. 

“I’ll manage,” you shrugged, “so, I need your final word, Mr. Sim.”

“I am sure I can find better tutors than you,” he raised his brows, challenging you and you didn’t look fazed at all. 

“I am quite literally the best, professor Kim asked me to tutor you for a reason, besides, no one’s gonna agree to help you out with exams being only one month away,” you made your point, extending your hand for him to finalize his decision. 

Overconfidence. He sighed. 

Jake stared at your extended hand, thinking of the bigger picture here. He’d get tutoring and would be able to score decent grades if he gets back to his usual routine of studying. 

Downside? He’d have to face you each day. 

Sighing and keeping his feelings in check, he simply nodded, taking your smaller hand into his as he accepted the offer, suddenly aware of the warmth of your palm and how it leaves a tingling feeling behind as you shake his hand firmly with a smirk. 

“So, where are we gonna study?” 

Chapter 3: Silent room, a loud mind. 

Turns out, it’s not that easy to sit down and just teach Jake. 

Given the amount of classes he had missed, or rather, the amount of classes he had managed to attend, it was clear that he didn’t even have the basic idea of the syllabus for the semester modules. 

Moreover, you had already pissed him off by mentioning how you didn’t expect him to have such a clean and organized room, as if you had already decided that he was going to be a messy human. 

Moving forward, you both sat down next to each other with your laptop open in front of you as you made him write down all the topics he needed to cover for the next month, forming a sort of timetable of a kind. 

It was surprisingly peaceful between you two, as if you both wished to get over with it as soon as possible, behaving as civilly as you could but there was this one thing that Jake couldn’t stop doing. 

Overthinking. 

It’s the way you looked his way with disappointed and concerned filled eyes whenever he messed up, the way his jaw clenched when you told him to do better, the way he couldn’t help but stare at your glossed up lips as you looked around his room, eyes settling on his childhood pictures which were framed. 

It was also new to him to actually interact with people outside of his football team, especially girls. He couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to one. He wondered what was going on in your mind, he wondered if you were silently judging him through it all.

That’s all what people in his life did anyway. 

“You were cute as a kid, what happened to you now?” You joked, chuckling as you looked his way, only to find his mouth slightly agape.

He hadn’t expected you to say that, and he certainly didn’t want to retort back with something that would ruin his mood, “I grew up to be hot is what happened to me,” he replied smoothly. 

“Oh, so you do know how to joke around,” you raised your brows in surprise. It was indeed the image he had formed over the years. The image of him being nothing more than a rude jock who wouldn’t even reply to someone nicely. 

Now that you were actually interacting with him, you were going to find out how many of the rumors were true about him. 

He only leaned closer at your statement, you could see his muscles flexing as he rested one arm on the table in front of you both, “it’s not a joke, love. I am hot.”

You scoffed at the term of endearment, suddenly aware of his scent now that he was so close to you, “and egoistic too,” you helpfully added. 

“Rightfully so.”

Your childish argument was interrupted that very second as the door to Jake’s room swung open, revealing the exact man you came to see. 

Jaehyun was smiling, dressed in black slacks and a button up shirt as he welcomed you here, and you were quick to notice Jake’s mood turning fowl that very second. 

“Thank you so much for coming here, Y/N. Let me send a few snacks and drinks for you both while you study,” he smiled, and you rushed up to stand, not even bothering about the pen that fell down as you did so. 

“Jaehyun,” you walked up to him, much to Jake’s dismay, “oh, you don’t have to do anything,” you smiled sweetly, and he only shook his head softly, grabbing your arm. 

“Don’t worry about it, just sit and relax, okay?” He squeezed your arm, going downstairs and you sighed with a smile. Even his scent was perfect to you. 

“You done daydreaming?” Jake asked, deadpanning once his brother had left. 

“You done solving the question?” You retorted. 

He sighed, as if his energy was drained already, “yeah, just check and get this over with,” he said, handing you the binder and looking elsewhere. 

It was probably the first time you actually paid attention to his dejected tone, as if he didn’t have the energy to fight back, and you obviously didn’t wish to irk him more, especially when he looked so frustrated right now. Thankfully, a lot of his answers were indeed correct, which was another surprise to you. 

He was smart, he just simply didn’t wish to study. 

“Something wrong?” He asked, cocking his brow and you blinked, “you’re actually not as dumb as you portray yourself to be,” you mumbled, checking everything thoroughly. 

It should’ve been insulting to Jake per se, but even the slightest amount of approval was a big thing for him, causing the corner of his lips to curl up. He felt insane, the amount of emotions he felt in a single day was perhaps the reason for the same, courtesy of you. 

He was glad Jaehyun didn’t enter the room again, sending in a servant staff to give you the snacks instead, which maintained the peace throughout the session. 

You couldn’t help but notice how well he concentrated once there was silence in the room, your eyes focused on his hand gripping the pen, making it seem more veiny than it already was. 

Also, you didn’t miss the hint of a smile ghosting his face when you told him he did a good job right before leaving, which made you think of a few things, one being— 

He looked beautiful with a smile. 

Chapter 4: You can’t read my mind, so read my lips. 

As much as Jake loved the comfort of his room, he really wanted to avoid you bumping into Jaehyun again.

Even the thought of your interactions, your fake sweet smiles, made him wanna punch the wall. Jaehyun really had it easy and Jake never understood why, it was no joke that Jake was decent looking as well, talented in his own way, and a kind hearted person who just happened to have a protective wall around him so as to not get hurt any further. 

Which is why you had been tutoring him in the library from the past ten sessions, his own personal request to avoid having privacy with you. 

Heck, even Jake didn’t know it was his own mind trying to protect him, which is why he couldn’t let anyone in, anyone.  

Which made this situation far from ideal as he had you pressed against the library wall, no distance between you both as you closed your eyes in pure distress. 

“What the actual fuck is he doing here?” Your question was directed more to yourself, which confused Jake further.

He poked his tongue into his cheek, annoyance creeping through, “what the fuck is going on?” He asked. 

“Shhh, not so loud,” you pressed your palm against his mouth, “just hide me.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrist effortlessly, pinning it above your head, “you don’t tell me what to do, yeah?” He mumbled, flustering you under his gaze before your eyes travelled back to where you were looking initially. 

He sighed in annoyance, looking back at the direction of your supposed fear. 

Lee Heeseung. Another of Jake’s football teammates. 

“Why are you hiding from Heeseung,” he asked, brow raised as he leaned into you. 

“Ugh,” you groaned, “he’s my ex, he shouldn’t even be in the library, he’s never here!” You were stressed and Jake smirked devilishly. 

“Fucking hell, you’re the girl he keeps on stalking and crying about?” He chuckled, “let me call him,” he turned away for a second. 

You used your free hand to grab his nape, “don’t fucking move,” you mumbled. 

Perhaps you were too harsh with the grabbing, also not calculating the proximity enough, because Jake’s nose was brushing against yours, lips close to the point of touching, and a low groan escaping his lips as your name rolls out his tongue in the most angry grunt ever, “what the actual fuck are you doing?” 

“J—just let him leave,” you mumbled, gulping and closing your eyes, his mint breath fanning your face as heat crept up your neck, up till your ears. 

“What will I get out of it,” he asked, his free hand resting on your waist now, “why should I help you?”

“I’m literally helping you study, Jake,” you seethed out.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he groaned, making you open your eyes, staring into his deep ones now, suddenly feeling small under his gaze, and well, his body. 

“What?” you asked, looking away to check if Heeseung had left, pushing Jake away the second you confirmed it. 

Jake, however, wasn’t having any of it. 

With a scoff and the shake of his head, he grabbed your wrist again, twisting it behind your back, not putting too much pressure so it just hurt but still made it clear how he would not let you go so easily, “you can’t run from me.”

“Let go, I fucking swear—” you let out, squirming around and pushing him, he didn’t budge at all sadly. 

“You do realize I’m a lot stronger than you, right?” He chuckled. 

“Fuck—what do you want me to do?” You rolled your eyes, jaw clenching as you looked at him. 

Before he could answer, your eyes widened in fear yet again as you yanked his arm so forcefully, he had no chance to balance himself, a yelp leaving his mouth as you ran and he was following right after you. 

Heeseung was back and you could just not deal with his ass anymore, hence the overwhelming response. Fight or flight? Flight for sure. Dragging Jake into it might be a stretch but hey, whatever helped you run away from the gremlin, right? 

“Y/N,” Jake hissed yet again, once you stopped by your seat, gathering both yours and his belongings scattered across the table from when you were studying a few minutes back, before getting up to find a book, before seeing Heeseung roaming around the halls of the library. 

It was quite amusing to Jake if he was being honest, a mix of feelings as you grabbed his wrist effortlessly yet again, your eyes set on the exit door leading to the parking lot where Jake’s Ferrari Purosangue stood proudly. 

“Get in!” You screamed even though you were far from the threat (read: Heeseung) now. 

“That’s my car in case you forgot—”

“Now.” 

“So fucking annoying—” He grumbled, with a small smile playing on his lips. 

You looked so bothered as if you were chased by Ghostface and not Heeseung, even though you probably wouldn’t run away from the prior. It was comical regardless, the long breath you exhaled once you were comfortable on his premium quality car seat, head leaned back fully. 

You opened your eyes after a few seconds only to find Jake’s eyes on you, face curved into an amused look. You stared at one another for a second, two seconds, three seconds—and he burst out laughing. 

It was probably the first time you saw him laugh like that—so freely, without any care in this world. It was loud but breathless, making his eyes crinkle with small crescents forming, his perfectly aligned pearly teeth showing as he went on, laughing at your disheveled state and crazy response to everything that happened the past twenty minutes. 

You were calm and composed for the most part, it was rare for you to look this frustrated over anything, which came as a surprise to Jake, the whole situation seemingly pure comedy to him. 

You observed him so carefully, your own lips twitching into a smile and before you knew it, you were laughing alongside him so normally as if two friends were laughing over a joke. 

A weird sort of warmth spread over your body, it made no sense honestly, you were pinned to the wall just a few minutes back and Jake looked as if he’d burst into flames with his anger, and now he’s laughing at your disheveled, non-composed state. 

Once Jake caught you staring back at him with glittering eyes, and a little smile, he froze. It was easy for him to come back to his senses (read: put his walls back up) which only made your smile drop too. It was awkward, both of you looking elsewhere while clearing your throats, definitely not something you expected. 

“Uh—sorry about that, yeah,” you mumbled, playing with the loose threat of your sweater sleeve. 

“Yeah, no problem,” he retorted, turning the car engine on to start driving. 

Why was it awkward? Because you laughed together like two absolutely normal individuals? Because you had Jake pinning you to the wall to avoid your ex? 

Or because you almost kissed. Almost. 

The ride back to your apartment was silent, no songs playing in the car, just the small buzz of engine, and the nail tapping on the screen of your phone—to avoid any kind of conversation happening, also clearly missing out on how Jake glanced at you every few seconds, the speed of his thoughts running faster than his own car. 

“I’ll—see you tomorrow then?” Your voice cracked as you said so, wincing slightly at your own tone. 

Jake was about to chuckle again, yet he covered it with a low cough as he mumbled a yes, as you opened the door once he stopped in front of your apartment. 

That’s it, you were leaving, and his eyes didn’t leave you till you disappeared into the apartment. 

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, groaning as he banged his head into it, a low horn sound only frustrating him further. It was hard for him to drive after, the scene of you being so vulnerable yet glaring at him like a scared little vixen trying to look brave, replayed in his mind. 

No, he couldn’t drive, couldn’t focus on the road anymore, stopping the car at a random parking lot of a fast food chain, grabbing his phone to pull up Instagram, specifically Heeseung’s account. 

He didn’t have to scroll much to find the picture he was looking for—his teammate, Heeseung, standing right next to you with his arm resting on your waist. Jake didn’t know why that picture left a bitter taste in his mouth all of a sudden, knowing well how badly Heeseung fucked up when he cheated on you. 

And now the asshole is running after you again. 

You didn’t deserve that, you deserve someone better—someone perfect like you. 

He went back, not having it in him to look at the picture again, instead, going to your account now. It looked professional, all your posts being highly calculative to make your feed look pleasing. Your highlights, however, had this one particular picture—a picture of you smiling without a care in the world, so raw, so genuine, so beautiful. 

Beautiful. 

Jake thought you looked beautiful, and it made him angry. 

He was angry—because deep down, he desired to be the reason for your smile. 

Chapter 5: Pretty in pink, but my head’s in the dark. 

Jake made you smile. 

You did know that laugh was contagious, however, you didn’t think you’d actually give in to Jake’s sweet chuckles. 

Sleep didn’t come to you easy when the constant reminder of the study session poked the back of your mind, not to mention what happened in the library earlier, where you and Jake almost kissed—

No. 

You shook your head. Such niche experiences never falter you, so why was this such a big deal? 

Another groan left your mouth, but alas, your body was relaxed enough to sleep so you woke up energetic the next day. It felt oddly friendly when you saw Jake at the University, and he threw a two finger salute your way, you waved back before going your way. 

“You’re zoned out, again.” Karina, one of your classmates, pointed out and you sighed as she rambled about how you needed to let some guy in, quite literally, to blow off some steam, which you clearly weren’t doing, hence the stuck up energy. 

Being descriptive about it didn’t help either—yet another reminder of how Jake’s body was pressed against yours this hour, yesterday. 

Heat crept up your neck, urging you to pack up and leave the room. It was hot, stuffy almost for you to do anything, which is why you found yourself studying at the empty seat of the University park. 

You had to face him again, of course, there was no escape to that, and as if the universe was testing you, the time passed by way too quickly for your liking and soon, you found yourself standing in front of the main door of Jake’s place. 

Before you could even ring the bell, the door opened to a huffing Jake, almost as if he ran downstairs, but how did he know—

“Hey,” he whispered, looking around. 

He didn’t wait for your reply, simply grabbing your wrist and dragging you inside, your skin burning at the unexpected touch, but you didn’t shake him off of you, only asking in a low tone, “what are you doing?” 

“Shh,” Jake mumbled, as though he was trying to avoid someone, or rather, trying to hide you from someone. His efforts were futile, however, once he heard that stern voice of his mother booming through the walls of his mansion. 

Now you get why Jake was in a hurry, the look on her face had a chill going down your spine. 

You felt Jake stiffen alongside you, his hold on your wrist now tighter, uncontrollably so. 

“You must be the new tutor for Jake,” she said, scrutinizing every bit of your existence, Jake’s jaw clenched at her unwavering gaze. 

“Yes ma’am, It’s a pleasure meeting you,” you tried to say, only for her to cut you off. 

“Trust me, darling. There must be no pleasure in helping Jake, but I do hope he learns a thing or two from you—you look like a smart young lady, hopefully, a positive influence on him.” 

You looked at her with your mouth open slightly, not believing the sight in front of you. No mother should look down on their children like that, ever. 

“Mrs. Jung, I hope we’re talking about the same Jake because he is amazing at studies, he grasps concepts faster than I do, and then I believe I’m the one who’s learning from him right now!” You smiled, full of enthusiasm, feeling Jake’s hand dropping down from your wrist. 

“In fact, I’ve never seen anyone play football so perfectly while also being so brilliantly academically smart, I firmly believe his grades will shock you this time. Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s time for our tutoring session.”

You passed her a small smile, the shock clear on her face, before grabbing Jake’s hand and taking him along with you—to his room. You didn’t look back, simply closing the door as you breathed out with a pissed expression. 

Jake’s heart was beating fast, he wasn’t sure if he had words to speak at this moment, so staring at you was all he could do. 

You spoke for him. 

You defended him. 

No one’s ever done that, no one cared enough to understand, moreover, it didn’t help how you looked angrier than him at the situation. 

“W—Why?” Jake couldn’t keep his voice in check, “you didn’t have to—say all that.”

That’s when you turned around, facing him. All your anger disappeared once you focused on his face, so vulnerable, so confused, so desperate to know your answer. 

“Jake,” the gentleness in your voice only made him gulp and look down at the floor, “I hope you don’t believe a word she says, because that’s not true,” you spoke, inching closer. 

You were not one who was good at making people feel better, Jake of all people at that, however, this gave you an insight of why Jake is the way he is—closed off, hence the lack of words from your side, but you knew you had to say it. 

That’s the thing, we judge people too quickly, you always had snarky remarks for him, not knowing how deep they cut him. He looked shaken right now, traumatized, especially because you experienced a part of his life which he never wanted to share with anybody. 

“Jake, you’re doing so well, you know that right?” You whispered, as genuine as possible, your fingers grabbing his own, which made him look up at you finally. 

He was shaken, not from his mother’s words—he was used to them—but from yours. 

“No one’s ever said that,” he spoke so silently, you almost missed it. You held his hand tight—being almost angrier than him while answering his mom back—he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be over that. 

Jake didn’t realize his eyes were glistening. 

“What?” You breathed out. 

He gulped yet again, jaw clenched now as he struggled to get his words out, the floor being the most interesting thing to him, “defended me. No one’s done that.”

“I—is that why you hate Jaehyun? Because people only see him?” You asked, wincing at the question when you saw him stiffen again, a sharp pang in your chest once he brushed your hand off of his. 

“Don’t. Don’t fucking go there.”

“I didn’t mean—” 

“Oh I fucking know what you mean. Everyone sees him fuck—you see him, because he’s perfect, right? That’s what he is, perfect,” he seethed out, “you don’t know what it’s like—to live in someone’s shadow,” there was a flash of pain in his eyes. 

You stayed mum, letting him speak. 

“Every place, every room, every fucking person just sees him,” he muttered, “I need to be better, but it’s never enough, because he already did it—Jaehyun did it better. You look at him the same way as others do, and me? The afterthought—the failure.”

Your heart broke a little, guilt settling in because unknowingly, you fueled the same anger and trauma for him. 

“Jake,” you mumbled, “you’re not a failure.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m starting to,” you spoke, and he looked up, “and thank god you’re not Jaehyun,” you chuckled, fingers ghosting near his jaw, your touch featherlight, making him suck in a deep breath. 

“Why?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes hopeful, which scared him. 

“Because you’re real, you don’t fake your emotions. You don’t smile at somebody who you don’t care about, you get angry, messy, you let yourself be shown how you are,” you lip twitched slightly as you said so, your own heartbeat rose at the sentences you so easily uttered, “that’s what makes you a human, Jake, a human who’s trying his best, which is what matters.”

He blinked. 

He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t, simply leaning into your touch with his eyes closed. 

“You’re you, the stupid jock who’s not scared of anything, yeah?” You tried to make him smile, which helped as you saw his lips curving up. 

Midway through your sentences, you genuinely questioned yourself about why you even like Jaehyun, it was honestly just your mind playing games with you. 

“You scare me,” he muttered. 

“Why?”

“Because you say things so convincingly, it makes me wanna believe you.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Just—don’t say it when you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” you said in a breath, his eyes on yours now, more intense than ever, “I mean every word.”

He stared a little longer, staring at you unamused as if you’d laugh in his face right this second. You didn’t. 

“You’re serious,” he said, voice hoarse. 

You nodded softly. 

Jake took a single step forward, the air around you so tight, it felt like a rubber band stretched to its max, on the verge of snapping back. 

You inhaled sharply once Jake’s cold hand brushed the hair on your shoulder, grazing against your bare skin, moving up your nape. 

“Do you have any idea what you just said to me?” He murmured, eyes locked on yours, turning you around easily to pin you against the wall—something he liked to do, apparently. 

“Tell me,” you mumbled. 

If someone told you two days back that you’d be in Jake’s room, calming him down before getting into a compromising position with him, you would have laughed in their faces. It was reality for you now, something that made you feel so unconventionally flustered. 

The way he brushed his thumb along your jaw, slow and deliberate, made you shiver, “you’re making me forget that i’m supposed to hate this—feeling anything.” 

You were hanging on the last bit of your sanity, drowning in Jake’s scent, his nose brushing against your cheek, hand gripping your waist, heat radiating off of your body. 

“Jake—”

“Say it again,” he whispered. 

“Say what?” You breathed. 

“That you’re glad I’m not him.”

You chuckled under his hold, your voice still shaking, “I’m so glad—so fucking glad you’re not him.” 

His breath sounded like a curse, lips hovering a breath above yours, you could feel his hesitation against your skin. He wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch someone as perfect as you, yet you didn’t stop him, the space in between you was so tight, it might as well elicit electricity. 

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, only leaning into his touch, resting your hand over the top of his on your jaw. The touch was faint, yet you could feel it everywhere. 

You held your breath as he leaned in—

Knock. 

Jake swore under his breath as you flinched, it physically hurt him to step back. 

“Jake?” Of course, it was Jaehyun who had to interrupt you two. 

Your hands trembled as Jake moved to the door, and you quickly turned towards the desk, rushing to sit down, pretending that nothing had happened—that you didn’t almost kiss Jake a few seconds back. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes furious with a hint of daze in them. “Yeah?” His voice came out strained as he asked Jaehyun through the door. 

“Mom wants to talk to you,” He said.

“Be right down,” he answered, shaking his head, staring at your way one last time, holding eye contact for a second, letting you see just how much he hated this situation, veins popping in his neck.

Then he opened the door, closing it behind him and disappearing from your eyesight. 

You stayed there, overwhelmed, lips tingling, pulse racing. 

A truth burned your skin in an excruciating pain. 

If he had kissed you, you wouldn’t have stopped him. 

Chapter 6: I can go from A to Z, but U is what I want. 

Jake hadn’t texted you all night. 

Not that you waited, except, you did. 

He never came back to the room after Jaehyun called him out, you waited, till you couldn’t anymore and had to rush out before your mind drove you to the edge of insanity. 

So you grabbed your bag, rushing to the first place you thought of—the courtyard behind the Science block. It was calm, no student in sight, thankfully. 

Your five minutes of calm ended a second too quickly, a voice calling out your name in its full glory. You cursed the universe for treating you like this and you didn’t have to turn around to figure out who it was.

Heeseung. 

“I gotta admit, I didn’t peg you to fall for the broken type.” He stepped out smiling as insane as a villain who hasn’t moved on does. 

“Still stalking me?” You rolled your eyes, “get a fucking job.”

“I call it being invested,” he smirked, shoving hands in his pockets, “it’s honestly a downgrade, going from me to Jake.”

“Not again,” you muttered, grabbing your book which you had just taken out. 

“I mean, trading me for Jake?” Voice full of pity. 

“As if you were an option, Heeseung,” you turned sharply. 

That shut him up for half a second.

“I just don’t get it,” he said, voice colder now. “He’s always angry, I was angry, I made you feel something, can he say the same?”

Your head was hurting by now, as you mumbled yet another shut up, only to be stopped by Heeseung as he grabbed your arm. 

“What? He’s the angry, tortured type. You’re into hopeless projects now?”

“I’m into honesty,” you snapped, “something you don’t offer.”

“What does he have that I don’t?”

“Self awareness maybe,” a voice came from behind you, low, cold, almost lethal. 

Jake was here. 

“Let go of her,” he said, dead-eyed, he was ready to snap. 

And Heeseung did, a scoff leaving his mouth before he smirked, “great, speak of the devil.”

Jake raised his brow, “you done?”

Heeseung chuckled, “not even close.”

You sighed, “of course not,” this day couldn’t get worse. 

“You really think this is love or whatever?” He said, looking at Jake but his words were directed to you instead, “he’s gonna burn you someday, and you’re gonna let him.” 

Oh god, you were not having any of this, why was this conversation even happening? It made absolutely no sense. 

Jake moved faster this time, but you blocked his chest with your arms, “enough,” you said sharply. 

“Ask him to leave.” Jake said, voice low. 

“Heeseung, just leave,” you said, turning to him. 

But he didn’t, and so Jake did, shoving past you as you rolled your eyes, Heeseung’s sinister smile only widening, getting so close to him, he had to lean back slightly. 

“Don’t test me, and don’t come near her again, or else I won’t be this patient.” Jake spoke. 

“Aw? You’re gonna hit me in front of her, Jake?”

“I don’t need to, she already cut you deeper than I ever could.” 

Heeseung stilled once, clenching his jaw, before turning to you, maintaining eye contact, “she’s not your girl, Jake.”

“You don’t know that,” he gritted his teeth. 

“You’ll come back,” Heeseung’s jaw ticked as he said so. 

“Hold your breath until I do,” you replied.

That was it, he left. It wasn’t silent, nor dramatic, but with enough tension to let you know that he will be coming back. 

Once he was gone, you shoved Jake, hard. 

“The fuck was that?”

“What? I came here trying to find you, only to witness you talking to him.”

“I didn’t want it to happen either, but the world hates me,” you mumbled, grabbing your bag and walking away with Jake following you behind. 

“I fucking hate that he still gets to talk to you, why does he have access to you?” His voice rose and you prayed no one would hear him, thankfully this area was empty. 

“He doesn’t, and why do you even care?” You asked, with distress clear on your face, “pretending like I mean something to you in front of Heeseung is just as worse, Jake.” 

“I—”

“No, you won’t even talk about last night, as if it didn’t happen,” you snapped and he froze, “you didn’t even come back to your room.”

His silence was your answer, and you knew this conversation wasn’t gonna go any further, Jake couldn’t do that—he was scared of opening up, and he was scared of answering those questions, so even though you were hurting on the inside, you let him be. 

“Tomorrow, library, at five. Be on time.” You mumbled, leaving him behind you. 

“Fuck—fuck!” Jake punched the wall next to him. He didn’t want you to go—the first person who ever tried to understand him, took his side, defended him. He was beyond scared of letting his guard down, so he groaned, sliding down the wall. 

“How do I even tell you I want you?”

Chapter 7: I know that I’m hard to read, but you got me here to stay. 

The library was too quiet for how loud your mind was. The sound of your pen dragging across the paper felt almost intrusive as you tried to finish your assignment. 

It had been three nights since the library fiasco. 

Two nights since the almost kiss. 

One night since the blow up with Heeseung.

You almost didn’t wish to come here, yet here you were, with the sample test papers ready, clad in your little black skirt, a cardigan too loose for you, waiting for Jake to show up—hoping he would. 

The clock ticked. He was a solid nineteen minutes late now, another minute and you’ll get up to leave. That’s when you heard the lazy footsteps approaching your side, the farthest corner of the library. You expected him to sit in front of you, yet he opted to sit right next to you, so close you could feel the fabric of his jeans brushing against your thigh. He took a seat without permission, like he had the right to be, like nothing had happened. 

He came in like guilt personified, shoulders hunched, hoodie loose, hair an unbrushed mess of indecision. And when he saw you?

He hesitated.

You didn’t look up, simply sliding him the sheet of questions to solve, the air around you turned weighted. His pen scratched, your leg bounced, you sipped water and he watched the corner of your mouth, practically burning holes into you. 

It was unbearable. 

This tension—it’s not a war but there’s rarely ever any peace. Catherine and Heathcliff reincarnated, except you weren’t on a moor, you were in a library, trying not to fall apart across the wooden study table. 

Just yesterday, he burned through Heeseung like jealousy was oxygen. 

He couldn’t stop staring, yet he solved the questions for forty minutes, sliding the sheet back to you for checking, expecting some sort of conversation now, anything, even a little hum of acknowledgement from your side, but none of it happened. 

He watched you scribble your pen over the margin, circling a few things, ticking the others, lip bitten in concentration. He observed you so intensely, how your eyes flicked across his answer sheet, but you didn’t look his way, not even once. 

“You won’t even talk to me now?” He asked, keeping his voice in check. 

“Four answers wrong, you did pretty well, can do better still,” you mumbled, passing him the paper. 

“Y/N,” he sighed, tired, he was afraid of this happening—letting you down, and that’s exactly what he did. Running away from his problems was what Jake always did, he wasn’t perfect, he knows it, but he wants to try and be better, better for you. 

“You came late,” you said, still not looking up. 

“I didn’t sleep last night,” he exhaled, jaw clenched as if trying to control his words.  

“Not my problem,” you retorted. 

“I was thinking.”

“You should study instead.”

“You hate me now, huh?” Jake leaned forward, voice flat. 

You blinked. The question hit out of nowhere.

“I don’t hate you,” you replied carefully. “But I don’t know how to deal with you either.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, Jake. It’s the truth. And that’s more than you’ve been giving me.”

He looked at you then, really looked—eyes narrowed, like he was keeping a war behind them, trying his best not to show his emotions. His eyes were empty, yet so full of you, you being the only person he wanted to see. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said, quietly. “I don’t know how to be—good at this, with you, I’ve never done this before.”

“And yet you’re good at disappearing. You’re good at leaving me hanging like none of it mattered, Jake. Even a text would have made it better, just one text.”

You weren’t yelling. You didn’t need to. Your disappointment was louder than any raised voice.

Jake sat back in his chair, breathing shallow. “You kissed me back.”

Your throat tightened, “you didn’t kiss me at all.”

“Exactly,” he muttered. “Because I would’ve ruined it. Ruined you.”

You shook your head slowly. “No, Jake. You didn’t kiss me because you’re scared of how much you actually want to.”

His fingers were now balled into fists. “And you’re not?”

“We’re not talking about me.” You looked away. 

He scoffed, turning to look at you fully, leaning in with his hand now resting on your thigh, burning the skin with his touch. 

“You want honesty, huh? So here it is—I’ve been thinking about you, about everything that’s happened in the past few days, no one’s ever messed with my mind so much and it fucking scares me. You’re messing me up—”

You couldn’t hear more, not when he was so close, not when he poured his heart out to you. Nothing about you two was normal, even your heartbeat was synced with how abnormally high they were. 

“Shh,” you mumbled, covering his mouth with your palm, and even the rude gesture calmed him down—your touch calmed him down. 

“You have an exam tomorrow.” You said and he stared, “study, pass the exam, and we’ll talk, yeah?”

He blinked, almost as if you showed him mercy, and gave him a chance to do something, to prove that he’s worthy of being near you. His scholarship, football, future—everything was at stake, but did he care? No. He cared about not letting you down. He wanted to prove himself to you. 

“You—you promise?” He asked, gripping the extra sheets and notes you passed his way.

You nodded, eyes softer now. You didn’t wanna hurt Jake, you could see just how hard he tried to fight with his demons, but this time, you wanted him to win.

“I’ll be waiting.” 

You turned to leave then, leaving Jake with his thoughts as he watched you leave, eyes on your legs. He gulped, looking back to the paper to find a line scribbled in your handwriting. 

You already know the answer, you’re just afraid of getting it wrong. 

It wasn’t about the question, it was about him. 

He just wanted to be worthy enough to stand in front of you and say I didn’t fuck this up this time. So he started, he worked all night, solved as many sample problems as he could, everything felt like a punch in the gut but he couldn’t give up, not this time. 

Jake couldn’t sleep at night, 

I’ll be waiting. 

That’s what you told him, and he was looking forward to it, because for the very first time in his life, someone wasn’t waiting for him to fail. 

He woke up before his alarm had the chance to ring, didn’t care about his mother’s remark on how he woke up on time for once, or how Jaehyun gave him a long, unreadable look. Jake didn’t react, he had bigger problems to tackle today. 

You were just as restless as him if not more, checking your phone every few minutes as if you’d get any text from Jake. He must be busy studying, you hope that was the case. 

He walked into the exam hall calm, focused, terrified. He didn’t skip questions. He didn’t zone out.

He solved the final problem two minutes before time and rechecked every line like his life was hidden in the margins.

When he walked out of that room, his shirt clinging to the back of his neck from sweat, his palms aching from gripping the pen too hard—he knew. He’d done it. Or at least, he hoped he did. 

Yet, he didn’t text you, he wouldn’t until he got the results. 

Chapter 8: Jealousy is but a red thread around my throat. 

You waited, not loud, but silently. 

Two whole days, you held your breath, even planned on visiting the football practice to just get a glimpse of Jake, yet you couldn’t muster enough courage to do so. God, you were so affected by everything he did, and this felt so very suffocating, waiting on someone. You knew what you felt, there was no point in denying it, however, you couldn’t figure out how it happened, so quickly at that. 

Heck, even Jaemin was more present in your chat inbox, even though you never replied to him, it just made you wonder if your time with Jake was just a hoax. 

Did you imagine it all? 

On the other hand, on the other side of the city, sitting in a dim room with sunlight pouring in, Jake was drowning in darkness. 

The exam portal was open in front of him, he refreshed the page every two seconds, not being able to sit still. His hands were shaking, not from fear but from want.  From the feeling of your voice telling him that you’ll talk to him once he proves himself. 

He gave up the wait, the result wasn’t out the whole day. It was three in the morning when the notification woke him up like a jolt. 

Results were out. 

He rushed to check it, the numbers stunning him as his jaw hung open. 

83%

Not perfect. But more than enough.

Enough to pass. Enough to stay on the team.

Enough to say, Look. I did it. I’m not a fuck-up. The first thing he thought of was you. So he typed—just two words.

Jake: I passed.

Because he didn’t know how to say what he really wanted to—I passed, and all I could think about was your voice. I passed, and I still don’t feel whole unless you tell me you’re proud. I passed, and it’s not enough if I can’t show you.

Your reply came back six minutes later.

You: I knew you would. 

It was soft, gentle. But was it enough for Jake? No. It should’ve been enough, but it wasn’t. 

He didn’t reply, he didn’t text you again. He opted to skip the lectures for the day and stay in his room, blinds closed, only darkness consuming him. 

You knew it was hard for Jake, you knew you shouldn’t wait for his reply or him approaching you—he was too scared to do that, which is exactly why you grabbed your bag and went to his place the first thing in the morning. Maybe Jake needed time, but you had to check. 

You rang the bell, your heart pounding as you did so, expecting Jake to open up and see you. Once the door opened, your pulse stuttered. 

Jaehyun. 

Of course, it had to be him. 

“Y/N,” he said your name smoothly, “didn’t know you were coming by.”

You hesitated with a small chuckle, exhaling the breath you were holding, “is Jake home?” 

He nodded, stepping aside to let you in, “yeah, he’s in his room, didn’t come out this morning at all.”

“Oh,” you said softly, wondering if he was alright. 

There was a pause, an awkward silence after that, you felt heavy, wanting to go upstairs but you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. 

Jaehyun closed the door behind you. “He’s been off since the results,” he said, voice low. “I thought passing would help, but I don’t know. He kind of shut down again after telling us he passed.”

You gulped, chest tightened at the revelation. 

“I came to check up on him, I’m not sure if he wants to meet though.”

“He’d want to see you.” Jaehyun said, smiling sincerely, “you’re good for him.”

Your eyes widened at that, “I’m not sure he thinks that.” You tried to smile, “can I go to his room?”

“He locked the door, I think he’s sleeping,” Jaehyun said apologetically. 

“I don’t wanna bother him.” You smiled sadly, “those are good pictures,” you mumbled, looking at the wall full of frames, particularly the ones with Jake in them.

“Yeah, I took most of those,” Jaehyun replied with another smile, he knew you wanted to talk to Jake so he suggested something, “Maybe if you take him something to eat? I can give the breakfast he skipped—”

“Oh no, I can run to the bakery and get something—”

Then you noticed a movement in your peripheral vision, you turned around to find Jake. He was standing down the hall, his fluffy hair a mess, eyes wide as if he didn’t expect you to be here—especially with Jaehyun. 

“Hey,” you breathed out. 

No reply. 

“Y—you didn’t reply, I came to see you,” you tried speaking again. 

However, his expression didn’t change and suddenly, you felt like you shouldn’t have come here at all. He was frozen even when you said you wanted to make sure he was okay. Then he came back to his senses, clearing his throat. 

Jaehyun left the room, letting you two be alone. 

“Why didn’t you ask for me?” He whispered, just sadness in his voice. 

“I did, that’s what I came for,” you tried to explain.

Jake stared at you, he was so broken inside he couldn’t let himself believe it. You dressed up, all pretty, your eyes so soft, your lips turning into a pout of disappointment. You looked perfect, and you came here for Jake? He just could not believe it. 

“You were talking to him,” Jake said, referring to Jaehyun, his voice broken. 

“He opened the door, what can I do?” You shook your head, trying to explain, “you didn’t even text back, Jake.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he replied, “I’ve never done this before, I’ve never had someone wait for me and mean it.”

Your lips parted to reply but he wasn’t done. 

“You said you’d talk to me after the exam,” he went on, voice sharper now, “but when you showed up, you let him open the door. You let him tell you how I was.”

“I didn’t—” your voice faltered, “I didn’t come for him.”

“Didn’t look that way.”

That hurt. You flinched. “Jake, why are you doing this?” 

“Because I waited for you,” he snapped. “I sat in that room like a fucking idiot thinking you’d come to see me. Not make small talk with my brother or compliment his photography.”

“You heard that?” You froze, it wasn’t your intention to do any of that. 

“I heard everything, every second you spent without taking my name,” he said. 

Just like that—he hurt you. Every conversation was about Jake, every single one. He just couldn’t see it. 

“I thought I was getting better,” he admitted, quieter now. “I thought passing the exam would mean something. That it would be enough.”

“It was,” you whispered. “Jake, it is. I am proud of you.”

“Then why didn’t it feel like it?” His voice broke on that line. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a step away, then back, like his own body was a prison.

You stood frozen. Every word hit somewhere different.

“I wanted you to come,” he said, softer now. “Not to check in. Not to ask if I’d eaten. I wanted you to come for me. Just for me. You don’t get it, Y/N.”

“No,” you stepped forward. “You don’t get it. You think everything is about being chosen or abandoned. But not everyone’s trying to leave you, Jake. Sometimes people show up. But you keep slamming the door in their face.”

He turned away. “Then go.”

“I came for you.” You said one last time, your eyes watering, not being able to contain the hurt you held in them. 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have.”

That one landed like a punch.

Your mouth opened. Then closed. You nodded. Just once.

“Fine.”

You turned.

And you left.

And this time, he didn’t stop you.

Chapter 9: I know that I’m hard to read, but you got me here to stay 

You spent most of your morning crying alone in your student council room, but it just wasn’t enough, not when you were being wronged every second of the day, not when the person you wanted kept running away from you no matter how hard you tried. At least you did. 

You couldn’t run away though, you had an important meeting with your council at six in the evening, by that time, you had done everything to make yourself look normal again, but your mind was entirely elsewhere, in another realm, a realm where things were different. 

Jake, on the other hand, left his room as soon as he realized how wrong everything had gone. All afternoon his own words replayed in his mind, how he asked you to leave and how you left a single tear drop on the floor before you turned around and left. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have.

It felt like biting into something rotten, saying that out loud to you. Like watching the one and the only thing he wanted turn and walk away. You didn’t yell back, you didn’t beg, you went still, and left. He saw you leave—he made you leave. 

And he let you go anyway. Because that’s what he did. Because pushing people away was easier than asking them to stay.

Until now.

Now he was pacing in his room like a caged animal, hoodie still damp, heart in his throat. He kept hearing your voice in the hallway. Kept seeing your face. Kept remembering the way you reached for him and he didn’t reach back.

His chest felt tight, his limbs tense. He couldn’t stay here, not in this house, not knowing you might never come back.

He had to find you.

So he ran. He ran to the courtyard, not caring about the rain pour, soaking him up from head to toe. You weren’t in the library, not in the council room, the classrooms were empty. He was panicking. 

That’s when he heard a voice, turning around the corner of the athletic department, he walked straight into one of his football teammates he couldn’t stand at all��Minjae, a loud-mouthed asshole, smiling like a madman. 

“Fucking hell, Lee Jake, you look like shit.” He grinned. 

Jake didn’t answer, he was in a hurry, he had to find you, to make things right with you, he was about to push past Minjae when—

“Oh, by the way,” he smirked, “Heeseung told us a lot about how you finally landed his ex, the pretty goody two shoes, Y/N.”

Jake froze, jaw clenched at the mention of you and Heeseung in the same sentence, coming from an asshole at that. 

“Didn’t think you’d have a go at someone like her. She seems to like guys who have more brains than biceps.” He laughed at his own joke. 

“The fuck did you just say?” 

Minjae laughed. “Chill, man. I’m just saying—props to you, seriously. Girl like that? All polished and pretty and loyal? I mean, not that it’ll last. Girls like that don’t stay with guys like us. She’ll figure it out eventually.”

Jake’s vision turned black.

“Say that again,” he said, voice like static.

Minjae raised his hands. “Relax. You don’t need to get all—”

The punch landed before he could finish.

Minjae hit the ground hard, water splashing up from the impact, the rain pouring down heavier now. He tried to shove Jake back, but to no avail as he bent down, his fist colliding with Minjae’s jaw again.  

Jake wasn’t fighting Minjae per se, he was fighting every single voice that told him he wasn’t enough, that he could never live up to his brother, that he could never be with someone as perfect as you. That’s what he believed too, till you actually became real for him. 

His mind was elsewhere when he took a blow to his jaw, lip bleeding now, Jake stumbled but scoffed before punching him again, and again, till his knuckles were shredded, a throbbing in his jaw which almost felt like fire. 

It was only when someone pulled him off of Minjae, Jake stopped, spitting out blood in the rain slick grass. Everything hurt, but not as much as his burning chest. 

“Are you insane?” Someone yelled his way, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jake didn’t bother answering, pulling out his phone and rushing away, typing out texts to you. 

Jake: where are you? please say something i’m so fucking sorry Y/N i didn’t mean it  i didn’t mean any of it i swear Y/N please 

No response. His messages were just there, unread, and unanswered. He simply didn’t know why. 

He didn’t know how you had been in the private meeting room for the past hour, student council prep being a whole scheduling disaster, handling arguments about clubs and their out-of-the-worldly budget demands. 

You were half awake at best, distracted by the storm that brewed outside. Your phone vibrates once, then again, and when you finally pull it out to check the numerous missed calls—your screen goes dark. Perfect, just on the day you didn’t bring your charger or powerbank. 

The feeling in your gut—it wasn’t good, which is why you excused yourself mid meeting, something you never do, to rush back home. You were soaked as you ran to your apartment, close to the University, thankfully. You plugged your phone in to charge as you rushed to take a shower, hoping the hot water would soothe your nerves. It didn’t. 

You kept thinking about Jake, about the fight at his place earlier, how he asked you to leave with the saddest look in his eyes, and how badly it hurt you. You were out of the shower in fifteen minutes, toweling your hair with one hand and rushing to check your phone with the other, not expecting a myriad of notifications. 

17 Missed calls. 

6 Voicemails. 

26 Unread texts. 

The last of which made your blood run cold. 

Jake: Y/N please  i’m outside 

You rushed to the front door, and he was there—leaning against the wall beside your entrance, hoodie clinging to him, hair wet and plastered to his forehead, eyes closed and him wincing like he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. Like it hurts too much to exist. Hands bruised, lip split, and he opened his eyes—bloodshot, glassy. 

“Jake,” you gasped out loud, “w—what happened?” You said, going close to him. 

“I tried to find you,” he said, voice wrecked, “I tried but I couldn’t, I thought that maybe you blocked me.”

“No—I was in a meeting and my phone died, god I’m so sorry—fuck, come inside.” You shook your head in distress.

“Y/N,” he groaned, and you gently helped him when he didn’t move, like he wasn’t allowed to, “I fucked up.”

“Shh, come inside, it’s cold,” you whispered and he nodded after a moment of hesitation. You tried to be calm, you tried to take control of the situation for once and he listened, this time he did when you took him to your room. 

You didn’t ask how this happened to him, only guiding him to the bathroom, “you’re soaked and bleeding, take a shower, i’ll put your clothes in the wash and dryer.”

He opened his mouth to say otherwise, but you didn’t let him, grabbing a fresh towel and handing it to him. 

“Are you sure you want me here?” He asked, vulnerable. 

“I wouldn’t have opened the door otherwise, Jake, I do.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he disappeared into the bathroom without another word and you worked your washing machine and dryer, sitting down right after, exhaling and letting your guard down, hands shaking with worry. 

You were glad Jake was taking his sweet time inside, because you had no clue how to go on with this situation. Jake stalling coming out simply because he was ashamed, also consumed in how good your shampoo smells. He was at your place, in your bathroom, all bloodied up, why? Because he couldn’t be normal for once and let you in. 

His walls came crashing down each time you came closer to him, but this time, he didn’t want them to go back up the second he touched you, this time, he wanted you inside with him. 

His clothes were dry very soon and you kept them in your room, waiting outside by the sofa, letting him come out all dressed up. The water stopped soon, the door creaking as he came out, and you were sitting on the sofa, hair still wet. 

Then Jake opened the door, you stood up at the noise, and he looked your way in a silent plea to ask you if he could sit next to you, and you nodded. He held up the bloodied towel, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you smiled softly, taking it away from him. 

The silence was too loud after as you both sat next to each other, you waited for him to say something, waited for the reality of tonight to settle in—to make sense, to stop trembling beneath your skin. And then he spoke as you took out your medicine kit, gently grabbing his hand to take a look at his bruised knuckles. 

“Y/N,” he took your name as if it was the only thing he knew. 

He watched you kneel in front of him, your eyes not angry, just steady, quiet, and unbearably kind. His fingers trembled in yours, you gently pulled the sleeve back, pressing a warm damp cloth to the wounds, making him wince slightly at the contact. 

“Sorry,” you breathed out. 

“I deserve worse,” he breathed back. 

“No, you don’t,” you said, looking up at him. 

He laughed under his breath, “why are you so kind to me? I don’t deserve it, Y/N.”

“You don’t get to decide what I give you, Jake,” you replied, “you’re bleeding, again.”

“Not my first time.”

You gripped him tighter, “and that’s supposed to make it better?”

“No,” he said, voice low, “just means I’m good at it by now.”

You didn’t answer. Just ripped the antiseptic packet open a little more forcefully than necessary and pressed it to the bruised line of his knuckles. He flinched.

“Good,” you muttered. “Means you still feel something.”

“God, Y/N—”

“No,” you snapped, trying your best to act normal but you both were far from that, “not yet.”

You cleaned the split in his skin with the kind of precision that only comes from anger—controlled, careful, but deeply furious.

“You don’t get to act like none of this mattered,” you said, eyes locked on his wounds. “You don’t get to disappear into your guilt and then show up bleeding and say I didn’t know where else to go. That’s not enough.”

His jaw clenched. “I didn’t come for a reward.”

“Good,” you said coldly. “Because you’re not getting one.” You wrapped gauze around his hand slowly, tight enough that it would sting.

He didn’t pull away.

“I came because I thought I’d lose you,” he said through his teeth, “I came because I’m fucking terrified that I already did.”

“Who’s fault is that?” You said, standing up, “you keep doing this thing, you pull me in, let me see you and then the very second it gets real, you shut the door in my face.”

“I know,” he said. Loud. Frustrated. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see the way you look at me when I say the wrong thing? Like you’re trying so fucking hard not to walk away?”

“You told me to go!”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“Then don’t say it!” You shouted, “don’t look at me like I’m everything one second and then act like I mean nothing the next!”

“I didn’t think you’d stay.”

“I stayed!”

You were both breathing hard now. Staring at each other like you didn’t know whether to cry or kiss or throw something, You still stood in between Jake’s legs, him looking up at you.  Jake ran a hand through his damp hair, pacing a few feet before turning back to you, eyes wide and glassy.

“I ruin things,” he said, “I always have. I don’t know how to love something without fucking it up. But I wanted you anyway—I still do.”

Your throat tightened. “And I’m supposed to what? Carry all of that? Be your exception?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I just need you to see that I’m trying. Even if it’s ugly. Even if I’m bleeding and loud and afraid. I need you to see me, and stay anyway.”

You stared at him.

He looked like someone who hadn’t slept in days. Someone who’d gone through hell and walked straight into another fire because you were at the center of it.

Your voice cracked, “you don’t make it easy.”

“I know.”

You looked down at your hands—his blood still faintly on your fingertips. He reached out slowly. You didn’t move. Not when his fingers curled around your wrist. Not when he pulled you in his lap, not when his forehead leaned into yours like he was holding on for dear life.

“I hate that I hurt you,” he whispered. “But I’d rather burn with you than freeze without you.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave, Jake.”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

“Because I’m sick,” he said suddenly. “Sick of being the one who’s always too much. Too angry. Too wrong. I get one thing right—one fucking exam—and even then I screw it up by throwing a punch at someone who talks shit about you and then picking a fight with the only person who’s ever actually looked at me like I could be more.”

Your breath hitched. You grabbed the gauze, wrapped it around his hand. Tighter than needed.

“Then be more, Jake.”

He stared at you.

“Be more,” you repeated, “because I’m tired of being in love with someone who’s so determined to hate himself.”

That silenced him. Fully. Until he spoke again.

“You’re in love with me?”

The words dropped like a bomb between you.

You froze. Swallowed. Refused to take it back, chuckling to yourself at how easily you let go and told him that, “yeah—god help me, I am.”

Then you tried to move back, only his arms wrapped around your waist tighter, holding you in place, “you don’t get to say that and walk away.” He growled. 

“Who said I’m walking away?” You mumbled, holding onto his shoulder for support. 

It was unreal, how close you guys were but still not close enough, it was never enough. 

“You’re mad at me,” Jake stated. 

“I should be mad.” 

“I’m mad too,” he added. 

“Good,” you rolled your eyes, trying to move again.

But he didn’t let you, not this time, his thumb brushing your cheek. 

That was it. That was when Jake finally let go. He couldn’t delay this anymore, not again, not when you were right in front of him, not when your soft lips brushed so tenderly against his bruised ones, not when you told him you were in love with him—not when he knew he had to have you. 

He surged up and into you—hands gripping your face, mouth pressing against yours like it was the only way to breathe. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t neat, it was everything you’d been holding back.

Lips slotted together, you could taste blood on your tongue from where he was hurt before, which only made you groan into the kiss, he was frustrated, so frustrated, not having it in him to let go for even a second. 

You gasped, arms flying up to clutch at his shoulders, pressed chest-to-chest, his body was warm—too warm—and you could feel his tension in every line.

You broke the kiss first, panting, eyes wide. “You shouldn’t—” you tried to say, especially when his body was hurting. 

“I have to,” he breathed, leaning in again. “Let me, just once. Please.”

You didn’t stop him, grabbing his nape and pulling him into you once again, because when Jake kissed you again, it felt like pain, penance, and pleasure all in one. It was as if he was trying to earn your forgiveness with his mouth, trying to pour out everything he couldn’t say to you, groaning into your mouth when your hips shifted over his lap. 

“I fucking—” He said midway the kiss, “god I—”

You shushed him gently, “you don’t have to say it.”

“I love you,” he breathed out, forehead pressed against yours, eyes earnest and full of life for the first time since you saw him, “I don’t care if it’s too early, I can’t fucking not say it, I love you, I—”

Before he could ruin the moment with the spiral in his throat, before he could pull back in fear, you pressed your lips against his like it was the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

He responded like he’d been starving. Mouth hot, desperate, hands gripping your waist like the world was falling apart and he only had seconds left to memorize you. The kiss was brutal in the way it made you feel, there was no choreography to it, no elegance—just lips, teeth, breath, and aching hunger.

His mouth was swollen. Your lips, bruised from how much he kissed you like he didn’t know how to stop.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed.

You stared at him. “I don’t want you to.”

Then you grabbed his jaw once you heard him wince, “does it hurt?” You asked, pecking his jaw, trailing kisses all over. 

“It’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt,” he whispered, letting your lips take over, tracing every bit of his face and neck, his eyes closing with the fire that you ignited within him. 

“This feels like a dream,” he whispered.

“It’s not.”

“But it could be,” he added, almost to himself. “You—like this, in my lap, in your apartment, touching me like I’m not a monster.”

You cupped his face again, guiding his eyes to yours, “you’re not a monster, Jake.”

“You don’t know the things I’ve thought.”

“Then tell me.”

His voice cracked, “I thought I’d die if I didn’t see you again. I thought that maybe I’m already ruined and maybe I don’t deserve you but I can’t stop loving you anyway. I thought—”

You kissed him again. Slow this time. Deep and aching, “then stop thinking,” you whispered, “just be here—with me.”

His fingers trembled as they curled into the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?”

You nodded.

He pulled the fabric up carefully, reverently, and you helped him, raising your arms until it was off. His breath hitched. Not because of how you looked—but because he was looking at you like that.

Like something sacred.

You grabbed the back of his hoodie, tugging. He hesitated for a split second before pulling it over his head. The sight made your breath catch.

His torso was littered with bruises, some dark purple, some already fading yellow. His ribcage dipped where the muscle was taut with tension. You reached out, fingertips grazing over a particularly harsh mark near his side.

He flinched. “That one’s from earlier.”

Your jaw clenched, “you shouldn’t fight because of me.”

“I wasn’t,” he said, “I was fighting every voice in my head that said I wasn’t worth your love.”

You kissed the bruise.

He gasped.

“I hate that they ever made you feel like that.”

His hands slid back up to your sides, lips brushing your jaw. “You make it go quiet.”

“I want to,” you whispered.

Your kisses grew slow again, heavier with emotion than desire. You could feel his heartbeat where your chest pressed into his, your hands in his hair, his head tilted just enough to deepen the kiss. You rolled your hips slightly in his lap, and he groaned again, burying his face in your neck.

“Fuck, Y/N—”

“Jake,” you murmured, your nails dragging softly along his back, “look at me.”

He lifted his head. His eyes—wild, glassy, full of everything he couldn’t say.

“I love you,” you said again. “I’m not afraid of it. So don’t be either.”

He leaned forward, pressing your foreheads together. 

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“You’re so fucking pretty, did I ever tell you that?” He mumbled against the skin of your neck, brushing his lips all over before placing open mouthed kisses over the expanse of your clavicle, “so fucking pretty.”

Jake wasn’t gentle anymore, not when he’d been craving your presence, craving you. He couldn’t help but treat you like a reward, like he finally had won the only thing in life that actually mattered to him. 

He was quick to grab your waist and flip you over, getting on top of you on the couch that was too small for things he had planned in his mind. It was almost like a dam breaking the way his mouth was on your neck, biting, sucking, claiming you. 

“Jake—” you mumbled, your back arching as you felt his body pressing into you, fingers wrapped around his wet locks as he marked your skin with every ounce of desperation he had, his fingers mapping out every inch of your body as if he’s afraid he’d forget it—as if he could ever forget anything about you. 

The warmth of his hands brushed over your bra clad nipples, a whimper leaving your mouth. Jake wasn’t undressed yet you could feel him getting hard, and god you wondered just how big he was, grinding into you as if he was already inside your cunt. 

“I hurt you so fucking much,” Jake mumbled, lips ghosting over your tit, “now I’ll hurt you in the way you want me to,” he said with dark eyes, yanking your bra down enough for your nipples to show, latching his mouth to you all in light speed. 

All his life Jake couldn’t take control of anything, but seeing you shiver under him just made sense to Jake, he had to take control—he had to make you feel so good, you wouldn’t ever look at anyone else. 

“You’re fucking crazy,” you whispered, already disheveled with how needy you were, wetness pooling in your panties, soiling the new pair you had put on not too long ago. 

“Yeah? You drive me crazy, baby,” he chuckled, and that sound went straight to your pussy. Jake was hot, so fucking hot, but him using nicknames on you with his deep tone—only god knows how you would survive this. 

You bit your lip to conceal your moans, which only infuriated Jake, biting your nipple harshly to make sure you scream, “don’t fucking hide your pretty voice,” he said. 

His hands went to your other breast and he gave it a tight squeeze, your eyes were on him as you watched his lips parting, letting his tongue make contact with the tip of your very hardened nub. He bites down on your nipple, making you cry out, but quickly soothes it with his tongue before switching to the other side, he wants to drive you wild with pleasure, to possess every inch of your body.

Lost in the haze of pleasure, you surrender yourself completely to Jake’s possessive touches, letting him have his way with you. The room fills with the sounds of your moans and his desperate sucking, a symphony of carnal desire. In this moment, there is nothing but you and Jake, and the burning hunger that consumes you both. 

Jake’s hands roam across your body, his touch electric against your skin. He grabs your hips, pulling you flush against him as he claims your lips in yet another searing kiss, tongue delving into your mouth, hot and hungry, making you more hungry for his touch—for him. 

“I—can’t,” you whimpered, wanting more of him. 

Jake chuckled, “can’t even speak now, hm? What happened to the feisty lil’ girl who couldn’t shut up?” 

“Fuck, shut up,” you mumbled, tugging on his hair harder, which only made him groan and squeeze your tits harder, coming up to brush his lips against yours, hot breaths intertwining as he smirks, hand travelling down your body, very close to the hem of your shorts. 

“Want me to shut up?” He asked, squeezing your neck with slight pressure, your mouth opening in a gasp—he took the opportunity to spit in your mouth, watching your eyes widen as watches you gulp it down, “good fucking girl,” he mumbles. 

You were too gone to function anymore and you had just started, but you knew one thing—whatever Jake wanted, you’d let him do it to you. 

That man was no less than a Greek god with how sharp his features looked, especially in the dim light of the room, muscles flexing, abs on full display as he held himself up on top of you to press kisses all over. 

In a swift second, he pulled you up to unclasp your bra, throwing it away somewhere to continue pressing hot mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts, and down your tummy, caressing it with the pad of his thumb, spending a good few seconds covering the expanse of your skin. 

You breathed harder once he reached the waistband of your shorts, his hooded eyes, almost drunk, looking up at you before he swiftly pulled them down, throwing them on the floor somewhere.

He couldn’t be gentle even if he tried, not when he was this thirsty, holding your legs open as he settled in the limited space that the couch held for him. Madman—that’s what he was and you couldn’t help but moan when he got closer to your panty clad cunt, burying his nose in the wet fabric, sniffing the scent of your arousal, groaning as he locked your thighs under his arms, which flexed harder now. 

You moaned his name as if a broken record repeating the same thing over and over again and he only mumbled things you couldn’t hear in your cunt, licking the already wet cloth, biting his lip at the first taste of you, “fuck—you’re so fucking perfect,” he says licking you harder, kissing your inner thighs alongside, leaving bites all over—he was feral. 

He slid your panties to the side, and the sight he had in front of him drove him to the edge. Jake was an impatient man, yes, he was messy, he was not the softest, but seeing you like this just made him realize how much crazier he could be. 

That first taste emboldens him and he dives in like a man starved, lapping at your folds like he’s trying to consume you entirely. 

His desperate tongue delves deep inside, fucking you with rapid strokes and curling to hit your sweet spot. You cry out sharply at the intense sensation, fingers tangling in his tousled raven hair to hold him in place. He grips your thighs tightly, holding you down and open for his onslaught as he devours you. 

Jake zeroes in on your clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves rapidly. Your back arches off the couch as he suckles hard on the throbbing bud, two fingers pumping inside your clenching hole.

“Fuck—Jake, I’m gonna cum!” You wail, thighs trembling violently around his head as your climax approaches rapidly. He doubles his efforts, fucking you harder with his fingers and lashing your clit mercilessly with his tongue.

He curls his fingers to stroke your G-spot with every thrust, drawing out more of your copious arousal to lap up greedily. Your walls start to flutter and clench around him as the pressure builds unbearably.

 Jake chuckled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. “You like that, baby?” He practically purred, before sucking your clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. 

“Fuck—yes,” you gasped, your head falling back against the couch. Jake was relentless, his tongue exploring every inch of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your thighs trembling as you stared at the ceiling with your mouth open, desperate for air. 

Jake pulled back for a moment, looking up at you with a wicked grin, “you want more, kitten?” He teased, running a finger along your slit, “go on then, beg for it.”

You groaned in frustration, but you were too far gone to care, “please, Jake,” you begged, fueling his ego. 

“Shhh, be a good lil’ kitten for me, yeah?” He mumbled into your core mindlessly, sending shivers up your spine as your thighs shake. He didn’t stop, but just when your ecstasy was about to crash—

He stopped. 

You let out a frustrated groan and Jake only got up with the essence of you sprawled over his chin, his hard on begging to be freed. 

“Fuck?” You asked, trying to get up on your elbows, looking at him incredulously. 

He only gave you a once over, tongue poking his cheek from inside before he came closer, swooping you up in his arms easily as you yelped, eyes wide as he carried you to the bedroom, “no patience, huh?” He asked. 

He was proud of himself for making you this weak, for cracking your high wall down so he could see you, so he could ruin you. Jake was possessive, especially after knowing what you and Heeseung went through, he wanted you to have the best, and he was willing to be the best for you. 

“I—I was gonna cum!” You said, holding on to him for support.

“Did I say you could?” He replied smoothly. 

“What—Jake what the fuck?” You whined and he only chuckled.

“Be patient, love, or else you won’t be coming all fucking night, yeah?” He said as he let you get down on the bed. 

You looked so innocent, eyes watery, hair messy, looking up at him like an angry little kitten trying to look tough. He climbed the bed and you moved back, till your back hit the headboard and he hovered above you, caressing your cheek as he cupped your jaw, tilting your head up to look him in his eye. Your heartbeat speeding up yet again, and good lord you loved being manhandled by Jake. 

“What are you thinking?” He asked, thumb pushing on your lower lip. 

“Nothing.” You mumbled. 

He leaned in closer, “not thinking of my cock inside your pretty little cunt, hm?” He asks, watching you shiver at the thought, “by the time I'm done with you, you’ll be begging me to let you cum.”

Your jaw clenched as you slide your hand up Jake’s torso, tracing all the way from his abs to his neck, his own body reacting to your touch, cock twitching inside his pants by the time your hand rested on his nape, pulling him even closer so your noses were touching. 

“You know, Jake, you talk big game. Don’t make promises you can’t back up,” you mumbled to rile him up. 

Jake’s eyes flashed with a mixture of lust and irritation at your challenge, “oh, you’re going to regret those words,” he whispered, his hands gripping your hips possessively. “I’m going to make you beg for my cock, baby.”

He punctuated his statement with a sharp thrust of his fingers, two of them plunging deep into your sopping wet pussy. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as he worked them in and out, stroking along your sensitive walls.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he panted, his thumb rubbing firm circles on your clit. “I can’t wait to feel this perfect little cunt wrapped around my cock.”

You moaned, your hips rolling to meet his hand as he fucked you with his fingers. “Then stop talking and do something about it,” you shot back, your voice breathy with desire.

Jake chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers only to bring them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours as he savored your taste. “Mmh—delicious,” he purred, “but I’m not done playing with you yet.”

Before you could protest, he was pushing your thighs apart and settling between them. His tongue delved into your folds, lapping at your arousal like a man starved. You cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured your pussy with single-minded intensity.

He worked you over mercilessly, his tongue and lips and teeth finding all the right spots to drive you wild. You bucked against his face, your thighs trembling as the pleasure built inside you. Just when you thought you might burst, Jake would back off, leaving you desperate and aching for release.

“Jake, please,” you whimpered, tugging on his hair in a futile attempt to guide him back to where you needed him most, “I need to cum. Please let me cum.”

He lifted his head, his chin glistening as he looked up at you. “Not yet,” he shook his head, his fingers continuing their maddeningly slow circles on your clit, “I want to hear you scream first.”

“I fucking can’t!” You breathed out, trying to control your moans again, “someone’s gonna hear and—ah—complain about it,” you said, which only made him scoff. 

“Is that it, hm? Have it your way then, princess,” he mumbled, yanking your soiled panties down all the way, balling it up in his first to make a gag out of it and shoving it down your mouth, “now you can scream all your want, Y/N.” He said, taking your name in his deep voice. 

And if you weren’t crazy before, now you had reached your limit of madness, even a poke from his side was like a pleasant burning wound to your skin, his actions also made you realize just how hungry Jake was for being the one in control. 

You squirmed beneath Jake, feeling utterly at his mercy as he continued his torturous teasing. The gag in your mouth muffled your moans but couldn’t silence them completely, much to Jake’s enjoyment. Your body arched, yearning for more, desperate for release.

“Such a needy lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Jake growled, his fingers still circling your sensitive bud, “I can feel how wet you are, taste how wet you are, dripping for me, hm?”

His words made you clench, fresh arousal coating his fingers. He gathered some of your slickness and slowly dragged it up to your throbbing clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. Your hips bucked up in hopes of seeking more contact.

“Hm—so responsive,” Jake purred, looking pleased with himself, “I could do this all night—keep you on the edge, begging so desperately for me.”

“Please—” you tried to say around the gag, your eyes pleading, you were so close, teetering on the brink of an explosive climax. Just a little more.

But Jake seemed determined to deny you that satisfaction, easing off right as you were about to fall over into your state of euphoria, frustration bubbled up inside you, mingling with the overwhelming lust coursing through your veins.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, baby,” Jake taunted, nipping at your inner thigh, “I want to hear you scream my name—let everyone know who you belong to.”

His fingers circled, feather-light touches that drove you wild with need. You thrashed beneath him, incoherent noises of desperation spilling from your lips. Jake just chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying your plight, removing your gag to hear you gasp loudly, his name on the tip of your tongue. 

Jake was cruel, so cruel the way he denied your orgasm yet again with a smirk playing on his face, a whole one eighty from how he was an hour back and you were crying by now, something he seemed to enjoy too as he licked your face, tasting the salty teardrop you let out, “this makes me wanna ruin you more, y’know?” 

“Fuck—Jake, let me cum please,” you sobbed as he took you in his arms. 

“You wanna cum, hm?” He asked as you settled on his lap, his hard on pressing against your thigh as you nodded, “fuck, you look so pretty crying like that for me, like a doll, a doll for me to use, hm?”

You couldn’t take it anymore, getting off and undoing his pant buttons as he watched you with amusement how you struggled to take off his pants and boxers, only to find his cock waiting for you, hard and proud. 

Jake’s cock was throbbing, hard and ready to burst, as you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip in a teasing manner. You could taste the salty beads of precum leaking from his slit, the flavor sending a jolt of desire straight to your core.

“Fuck—baby,” Jake groaned, his fingers threading through your hair as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper into your throat. “Your mouth feels so good. Keep going just like that, good girl.”

You moaned around his length, the vibrations making him shudder. Your own arousal was dripping down your thighs, coating them with your slick essence. The wet sounds of your slurping filled the room, mingling with Jake’s heavy breaths and grunts of pleasure.

“Shit—fuck, take it easy, I won’t be able to hold back," he panted, his grip on your hair tightening, “I’m gonna fucking come down your throat if you keep sucking me like that.”

You redoubled your efforts, eager to taste his release. Your tongue flattened against the underside of his shaft as you sucked harder, determined to milk him of every last drop. Just as you felt him start to swell, signaling his impending orgasm, you pulled away with a pop.

Jake’s eyes jolted open, a mix of confusion and frustration flashing across his face. “What the fuck, baby? Why the fuck did you stop?”

You just smiled coyly up at him, licking your lips. “Because I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me up with your hot cum, or are you too much of a coward to fuck me?” You teased, your grin making him scoff. 

God he loved you. 

Jake growled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. In a flash, he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your side, your back pressed firmly against his torso. 

Before you could even process the sudden change in position, he was lined up at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your slick folds.

“Teasing me will only get you punished,” he warned, his voice low and husky with desire. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

With that promise, he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching as he filled you completely. Jake set a brutal pace, pounding into you with wild abandon.

You let out a sharp cry as Jake’s thick cock stretched you open, filling you so deeply that you could feel him bulging through your lower abdomen. The feeling of his hard length pulsing inside you sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you arch your back and press your ass against him.

“Lord—ah yes,” you gasped, grinding against him, “you’re—so fucking big.”

Jake grunted in response, his fingers digging into your hips as he continued to pound into you at a furious pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and your needy moans filled the room, mixing with the creaking of the bed frame beneath you.

“Shit, your cunt is so tight,” Jake mumbled, his breath hot against your neck. “Squeezing my cock like a desperate doll—you were made for me, baby. Made to take my dick and milk me dry.”

His filthy words only heightened your arousal, making you clench even tighter around him. You could feel your orgasm building again, the tension coiling in your core as he hit that special spot deep inside you with each thrust.

“Please don’t stop, not this time,” you pleaded, your nails digging into his thighs. “Fuck me harder, Jake. I’m so fucking close.”

He was quick to flip you over again so you were resting on your back, his hips settling in between you as he held your thighs up, your legs resting on both his shoulders with ease as he snapped into you harder, plunging his cock with more need, as if he was a monster hungry for lust and only lust.

Jake snarled, his hips snapping forward with a newfound vigor. One hand moved around to rub firm circles around your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to tremble, your breath coming out in short gasps as you found yourself on the brink of ecstasy.

“Cum for me,” Jake demanded, pinching your clit hard, “I want to feel you cum all over my dick, baby.”

With a scream of his name, you practically exploded, your pussy clamping down around him like a vice as your orgasm crashed over you. Your body convulsed, your back bowing as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed through you, which shocked Jake because you weren’t just having an orgasm. 

You were squirting all over his cock. 

Jake followed shortly after, his cock pulsing as he spilled his release deep inside you, as he breathed hard, watching you with surprised eyes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, grinding against you to prolong your shared climax, “you’re so fucking hot, so fucking mine.”

You whimpered at the feeling of his hot cum painting your walls, the sensation making your pussy flutter around his shaft. Jake held you close as you both rode out the aftershocks, his softening cock still buried inside you.

“You’re mine,” he mumbled, “say it.”

“Yours—I’m yours,” you breathed as best as you could. 

“Again.”

“I’m yours, Jake.”

“Fuck—again.”

“So so fucking yours, I’m all yours Jake.”

“Mine,” he whispered, so possessive. 

After a few moments, Jake carefully pulled out and rolled you onto your back. He pressed gentle kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his touch soothing and tender in contrast to the rough passion from moments before.

“That was intense,” he murmured, nuzzling against your collarbone, “I don’t think i’ll ever get enough of you, baby. You’re fucking addictive.”

You smiled up at him, reaching up to cup his face. "I could say the same about you. The way you fuck me, it’s like you’re a fucking beast.”

“Was I too harsh?” He asked, placing soft kisses all over, “I’m sorry I just lost control—you have no idea how badly I need you, I don’t think I can stop,” he confessed. 

You kissed him again, “then don’t stop, just don’t.”

That’s all he needed to hear for the night, that you were finally his, and he was yours. He smirked, the night was just getting started. 

Chapter 10: Hate me less? You love me more. 

You don’t remember how the night ended, not when Jake kept his promise of how you wouldn’t be able to walk anymore once he was done with you, and he was precise about it. He was far from done when he made you fall apart on his cock so many times, you lost count. 

It was a crazy switch up once you both were done, he took care of you, almost like he was made for it, helping you clean up in little bathtub which was definitely too small to fit the both of you, yet he helped you bath, a faint blush on his face as you laughed once he tried to act sly, touching you again when you were so sensitive and overstimulated. 

Turns out, Jake can be super clingy when he has to be, also not letting you go once you get out of the tub, helping you dry your hair, helping you moisturize your body, helping you smile by kissing you every few seconds. 

He held you to sleep, not before hearing you say you actually want him and it’s not a dream. Jake doesn’t remember if he ever felt this way before, this warmth called happiness that you provided him so easily. 

“I love you,” he mumbled to your sleeping figure, he was whipped, already thinking of your future together. Yeah, maybe it all happened too quickly, he still wouldn’t have it any other way. He wouldn’t mind getting through all the hurt again if it meant that he’d wake up to you sleeping next to him—to you loving him. 

It was perhaps the best day of Jake’s life. 

The air felt different today.

Not because of the weather, which was finally warm and breezy after days of storm and stress, but because Jake was walking beside you—not behind, not ahead—beside you. His fingers were laced with yours, his thumb brushing over your skin every few steps like he was still checking if this was real, he still couldn’t believe it. 

It was.

You passed the main quad slowly, in no rush. The two of you didn’t need to say much. Conversations dimmed as you walked through. You could feel the glances, the whispers.

Someone definitely said your name. Then his.

And then, clear as day, they whispered. 

“Wait—are they actually holding hands?”

Jake didn’t flinch.

Not like he would’ve, weeks ago. Not like the boy who couldn’t stand being seen, being known. Instead, he just grabbed your hand a little tighter—casual, sure, and completely unbothered. His expression said it all—Yeah, and?

You chuckled. “Think they’re combusting?”

“Oh, definitely,” he said, tugging you closer with a smugness he barely bothered to hide anymore. “Especially that one girl who’s walking with me, who swore she’d never even look at me.”

“She wasn’t entirely wrong,” you teased. “You were kind of a menace.”

He groaned, tossing his head back, “were?”

You laughed, and it made him smile, soft and full, the kind of smile he used to hide and now gave you freely.

“You’re doing that look again,” he said, side-eyeing you. “Like you’re psychoanalyzing me.”

“Maybe I am. Can’t help it. You’re a walking dissertation, y’know?”

“Yeah? What’s the title?”

You looked up at him with a shrug. “How to fall for someone you’re supposed to hate.”

That made him stop walking.

You blinked, startled, but he was already turning to face you, his hoodie sleeves pushed up just enough to show the fading bruises on his knuckles—old reminders of the version of him you never gave up on.

“I’m glad you did,” he said. “Fall for me, even when I made it so damn hard.”

You smiled slowly, the kind of smile that made his breath catch. “You still do.”

“Yeah, well,” he squeezed your hand, “at least I’m hot.”

You were too busy rolling your eyes to realize you’d just walked past Heeseung and his friends until the entire bench went awkwardly quiet. Heeseung looked up, eyes flicking from your joined hands to your face, and then to Jake—who didn’t even spare him a glance.

He was too focused on you. Too content stealing a bite of your ice cream like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Let’s go,” you muttered, trying not to laugh as you nudged him forward.

Jake followed. No hesitation.

Because this, the hand holding, the quiet teasing, the stares that didn’t matter anymore, this was normal.

And for the first time in his life, Jake finally understood: Normal didn’t mean boring.

It meant chosen. It meant enough.

It meant being yours.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Seconds

(Firsts - part two)

Pairing - Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary - part two to firsts, Rafe Cameron was your first everything.

Warnings - language, alcohol, public sex. (18+)

A/n- shoutout to anon who said this part should be called seconds! Love you! 🥰 I didn’t think I’d ever make a part two because nothing ever wrote as well as the first part, but part of the end plot came from the recent tell me lies finale!

Part one

Rafe Cameron.

Rafe Cameron was your first everything.

The first time you made out with someone it was with Rafe, both aged 15, you both had been each other's first for everything. The best of friends since age 5, so when he found himself standing between your legs at a party as you sat on the island bench chewing on some plain bread because the alcohol was making you feel a bit nauseous, you both just kissed. No question to it, he leant in and so did you.

You remember his hand holding your jaw as your lips moved together, tongues brushing each other and his other hand held your thigh thumb caressing your naked skin. Small giggles would escape both your lips as you kept kissing.

Nobody questioned anything the two of you did, knowing better not to get involved in your business. So when the two of you began getting heated, your hips grinding into each other and his arms wrapping around your waist, they knew it was time to give you space and left the kitchen.

You made out alot after that, but you were always just best friends.

The first time you both had sex was with each other. You had just turned 16, Rafe had been talking about watching porn a lot and said that some girl in your grade propositioned him at a party, saying something about a box full of condoms and no parents home. You didn’t like that one bit so you told him you also wanted to have sex, it was just agreed upon you’d have sex together.

The two of you had two shots of vodka to calm the nerves, it was in your bed when both your parents had an event. Equally both as nervous but he comforted you alot more than you did him. “Just tell me to stop if it’s too much” he kept saying as you both kissed and removed clothing, you told him you would and to stop worrying.

You had lit a scented candle and dimmed your lights down low, you didn’t feel nervous about being naked with him. You were nervous for the pain, your friends had told you how much they hated it the first time so you assumed you would.

But it was different, you had both done a lot of research on how to have sex, not just sex. Good sex, you weren’t sure how many blogs you had read with him. Looking up everything and anything about it, so when the time came, it was enjoyable, Maybe not as enjoyable as it was the 3rd or 4th time but it wasn’t as bad as your friends had said. The moment you saw each other naked that was when it changed for you, seeing his erect cock that stood for you made your inside churn. You were done for and you did nothing to stop it, that feeling grew and grew. When he gave you a real orgasm you knew you’d never be able to have anyone else.

Rafe was your first everything until he wasn’t.

-

Months went by after your birthday, you were still angry and hurt at Rafe but it was starting to fade because you never saw him. He lived right next door but he was never around when you were, your schedules never matched up anymore and that was a blessing in disguise.

Your family had received the invite to his engagement party, you had immediately said no to your parents but they were not letting you out of it. You spent weeks dreading the day, avoiding looking for a dress just hoping your mum would understand.

But when the night came a lot faster than expected you could no longer put it off, your mother had left you a dress hanging in the bathroom. It was beautiful, exactly the kind of dress you would have brought. There was no getting out of this party, so you had to figure out a way to make the night bearable.

Dressed in a pretty black baby doll dress you found yourself leaning against the bar, champagne flute between your fingers as you stared off into space. Moving from one foot to the other, feet aching from the stupid stilettos you decided to wear, you had secured a nice spot at the bar. Hidden behind some ridiculous ice sculpture of the lovely couple, you were unsure of how many glasses of champagne you had thrown back. Trying to blur the night out the best you could, you hadn’t spoken to Rafe yet. Your parents had been pulled away as soon as you walked in so you were able to run and hide before any greetings were made.

Apparently your hiding space wasn’t kept a secret for very long though, someone’s fingers grazed your hip causing you to wobble on your feet and fumble with the glass, the contents spraying over the marble floor at your feet. “Fuck you scared me!” You squeaked, coming face to face with Jeremy. Rafes' older cousin, Rafes, suddenly became a very hot older cousin. “Sorry! You did look like you were on another planet” he laughs, reaching over the bar he grabs the tequila and pours himself a generous shot. He grabs a rag and kneels at your feet, wiping away the liquid from the floor and the small amount that hit your feet. He looks up at you through his dark lashes and you quickly look away when the heat between your legs flare.

He steps up and presses the shot glass to his lips, your eyes glued to them as he shoots it back and licks the liquid from his lips, he gives you his famous dimple grin and leans against the bar. “So y/n.. how have you been? It’s been 4 years?”

“Yeah 4 years.. I’m good! Just turned 21!” You smiled, waving the glass of champagne in the air like you weren’t drinking at the age of 15, he grasps a glass of champagne and knocks it with yours. The two of you share a look as you both take a sip of the bubbles. “You look good”. He’s not shy and takes a long look at you, trailing him from top to bottom. “You too Jer”

“So I heard about you and Rafe, sorry about that. He can be an asshole” he says, he’s moved closer to you now. Both your forearms are rested together as you both stare out at the sea of people, your eyes finally find Rafe. He’s clenching his jaw as his fianc�� whisks him around the room, flaunting her huge rock off.

“Mmm… doesn’t matter. It’s whatever”

Jeremy shoots you a sideways look as if to say ‘I don’t believe you’, he also watches Rafe walk round the room. He was angry for you, angry his little cousin would throw away such a perfect person for a girl who had a rich daddy and nothing else to offer. Anger spread through your veins as you stared at him across the room.

“He fucked me over on my birthday… I'm still mad. I just… I just want him to feel the way I do… hurt” you spill, swallowing the rest of your drink and slamming it on the table. Your cheeks and neck flushed pink as the alcohol warmed your body, you were hurt but most of all angry. Angry he’d do that to you and walk away like it was nothing… like he hadn’t just ruined your life again.

“What did he do?”

Rafe stands across the room, a permanent fake smile plastered on his face as he makes the rounds. Sipping on warm champagne even though he’d much rather be throwing back shots right now, he didn’t want to be here. He hated being around this many people when he was stone cold sober, hated that you were right across the room. Hated that his eyes kept drifting over to where you stood at the bar talking to his cousin Jeremy, hated that you probably found him so hot now. You used to tell him that his cousin was hot when you were both 16 and he hated it back then, he hates it even more now because he can’t do anything to stop the interaction. Hated the sick thoughts that spread through his brain when he imagined the two of you fucking.

Rafe isn’t sure how many times he’s looked over at you tonight but when everyone is made to take a seat to eat he hates that he can’t find you in the crowd and hates it even more that his cousin is missing too. Hates that he doesn’t know what you’re doing and hates that’s he not doing it with you.

Rebecca could sense something was off and sent him a look of disapproval, flicking her eyes over to her dad who was also watching the both of them. The whole thing was a joke, made to get married just for the business. But he put himself in this mess and couldn’t expect anyone else to get him out, even his father had no sway over the Jones family.

Rafes anxious foot tapping had caught Rebecca’s attention again and she gave his thigh a squeeze, unsure why he was acting the way he was. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since sitting down for dinner, staring down at the plate and trying to figure out if it was the entree or the main course, honestly they were all the same damn size but cost a shit tonne of his money. Rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw, he felt his phone vibrate with a message and your name appeared on his screen. His heartbeat was felt in his ears as he looked around the table before opening the message. ‘We should talk’.

Pushing his chair back roughly he excused himself from the table, letting them know someone was calling. Rebecca eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t be bothered dealing with his shit right now, sitting back in her chair and breathing a sigh of relief when he left.

Rafe however was not relieved, he was nervous, scared out of his brain at what you might say. He’s not even sure why he’s actually even coming to talk to you, he fucked up at your birthday party. If Rebecca found out she would be so pissed, her dad would pull the plug on the business deal. His whole life would go up in flames and his dad would kill him. However, as soon as you told him where to meet you he was taking bigger strides to get to you. He needed to apologize for the past 4 years, and needed to tell you what’s been happening.

However as he rounds the corner of the porch the muscles in his legs lock, his eyes fall to your naked frame. He didn’t even need to see your face to know it was you riding someone’s cock on a deck chair, he feels sick to his stomach but he couldn’t look away. The curves of your body had changed over the years, your hips grew wider. Your and thighs thick, his hands fisted at his side. Was this your form of revenge? Had you not meant to text him? Did you want him to watch you? Or were you hoping he’d see and run back inside?

His eyes fixate on where the guys cock disappears between the two of you, your head is thrown back and palms pressed against his chest. He can’t hear you from here but he knows your moaning, he still hears the sounds to this day. He so desperately wants to be the person under you, watching you come undone around him and feel your wet pussy. Anger bubbles in his chest when he sees who’s dick it is your fucking.

His fucking cousins… he sees red.

2 hours before

“Fuck what an asshole!” Rafe’s cousin exclaims, pouring you another glass of champagne. He shakes his head in disbelief at the idiocy of his younger cousin, he was always rooting for the two of you to open your eyes and start dating. “Yeah… I wanted to get him back. Tell Rebecca or something but I don’t know.. I don’t think it’ll do anything, he doesn’t care about me”.

Jeremy chuckles softly, the dimples on his cheeks causing your knees to weaken just a little, you felt like a 14 year old girl again. Creasing your brows at him as he shakes his head at you.

“That’s not the case at all… he hasn’t stopped looking over at you all night. I think he’s got himself stuck with the Jones family, however that doesn’t give him the right to treat you the way he has.. I have an idea”.

The next thing you know your agreeing to get revenge on Rafe; your agreeing to fuck his older cousin. The older cousin you actually did have a small crush on years ago. The older cousin you knew would be just as good as Rafe in bed maybe he even better?

“You're sure you're okay with this?” He questions, he’s taken his suit jacket and tie off now. The two of you sat on a deck chair as his hand lay upon your thigh. “Yeah”. He’s kissed you multiple times on the way to the garden, calming your nerves with each slide of his tongue.

His lips are on yours again and it feels slightly like how it did with Rafe, you liked the feeling of his soft lips and the way his tongue tastes on yours. He was softer like how Rafe was when you first kissed, his hands roamed your body stopping to caress certain areas. “We will get a text ready to send him” he whispers, his mouth now kisses down the length of your neck and you keep picturing Rafe. You shouldn’t but you do.

“When will we send it?”

He pulls away for a moment, fingers dragging down the zipper of your dress a shiver runs down your spine. Your own fingers unbuttoning the tiny little buttons on his white shirt, he was built like Rafe. Tanned and toned, everything you enjoyed in a man. “When I’m inside you, send it when you feel close to coming but don’t come until we know he’s seen you”

You nod your head going to open your mouth then ask him how he can be so sure he’ll make you come. “Don’t even ask the question that’s on the tip of your tongue, I’ll make you come don’t you worry”.

It all moves so fast, kissing, touching. His fingers are inside of you and bringing you to your first orgasm, he told you had to show you he could do it. You’ll remember the way his tongue felt on you till the end of time. “You ready?” He checks again, you can feel his hard cock against your opening. You lower yourself onto him without speaking and he chokes out a noise when you clench around him, your hands planted on his chest as you begin to find your rhythm. “Fucking hell” he grunts, his fingers dig deeper into your hips. He feels good, really good. You hadn’t been with someone in a while, always comparing them to Rafe. But right now all your mind could comprehend was the way his cock hit exactly where it needs to be, your pussy juices dripping around him with each thrust. “Oh” you cry, momentarily forgetting why the two of you are fucking in public, he halts his movements when he feels your walls begin the pulsate. “Wha- wait” you cry, he’s pressing send on your message to Rafe but you’re more focused on finding that white hot release.

Text Messages

You-

We need to talk 7.55pm

I’m outside 7.56pm

Rafe-

On my way 8.00pm

“I’m about to explode” you cry, the anger of waiting for him to reply has you wanting to scream. Your orgasm had been bubbling, ready to let rip. Until Jeremy paused your actions and said to wait for him to reply, he had also said he’d rather just fuck you right now rather then get back at Rafe but he said it was his idea and he had to see it through. Said something about you deserving your revenge.

When you could hear footsteps you began to rock on Jeremy again, neither of you certain it was Rafe but you didn’t want to miss your chance. You bounced against his cock slowly, the lights around the pool illuminated your naked body, you were sure he could see exactly where his cock was going and how wet you were from where he stood.

You put on a performance, rolling your hips and bouncing. Throwing your head back and whispering for Jeremy to grope your tits, they were Rafe’s favorite thing.

You hadn’t expected Rafe to move around the pool, he was now in your line of site and he stared you down as you fucked his cousin.

He licked his lips in desire and let his eyes roam your body, blocking out the fact you were riding a family member. “Oh fuck Jer” you cried and he winced at his cousins name but couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you came, moans of delight filled the still air and you the sweat on your skin made you glisten under the moon. Jeremy followed close behind coming so hard the two of you shook and caused you to come again, you practically convulsed on top of him as you came down from your third orgasm. “Holy fucking shit” you whispered in shock, pushing yourself back up to see Rafe still watching you.

You looked right at him and tossed your hair over your shoulders bearing your perky tits for him, sending him a small wave. “Enjoy the show?”.

He couldn’t hide his anger, he practically had steam rolling out of his ears but the sound of his name being called from the back patio had him scurrying off back into, glancing back at you a few times.

“Well fuck… that was the best fucking revenge ever!” You laughed, Jeremy laughed with you and you lean your weight into his chest. “Always here if you need to get revenge on him again”.

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[scary-grace]

11. YOU CAN’T RUN FROM ME FOREVER (scarier prompts) if you are open to it for Shigaraki Tomura

Hi there, anon! When you sent this prompt, it lit my brain on fire, and produced a fic that's cleared 50k words -- and a fic that's much darker than what I usually write. Your call on whether it counts as scary or not. If you hate it, send me another ask with any kind of prompt, and I'll rewrite the fic for you!

Savior - a Shigaraki x f!reader fic

When you broke up with Shigaraki Tomura at the end of high school, you never expected him to stalk you for years, and when you and Chisaki Kai got married, you thought you'd finally broken free. But life with Kai turns quickly from a dream into a waking nightmare, and with every month that passes, you can feel your chances to escape dwindling. Almost out of time, with no good choices left, you turn to the one person who swore he'd never give up on you -- and hope he's less interested in stalking you than he is in saving your life.

AU - no quirks. Past (and future) Tomura x reader, present Overhaul x reader. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Depictions of dubcon, domestic violence, and reproductive coercion (Overhaul). References to past stalking behavior (Tomura). Angst. Hurt/no comfort for the majority of the fic. If you find any of the above too triggering to read about, please go check out some of the other fics in the fandom! there are lots of them waiting to be discovered and loved. beta read by @threadbearsweater (thank you so much!!). dividers by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

Before you got married, going out with Shigaraki Tomura was the worst mistake you’d ever made. Sometimes you try to reassure yourself that you were in high school, that high school is where people are allowed to make mistakes. But most people’s high school mistakes are little things – a bad outfit, a bad haircut, a bad grade, a speeding ticket or a broken curfew. Things parents yell over, and ground you over, too. They’re not the kind of mistake that follows you for the rest of your life. Short of getting pregnant and dropping out of school, dating Shigaraki Tomura was the biggest mistake it was possible for you to make.

He didn’t look it. They never do. He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part. The friends he did have were delinquents to a fault, who picked on most people but never on you. Nobody picked on you. You found out later that it was because of him, but not because he told you. Looking out for you wasn’t something Tomura expected you to be grateful for. It was just something he did.

And Tomura wasn’t bad, exactly. He was a perfectly typical high school boyfriend, the quiet almost-loner that girls like you think needs fixing, the kind of boy girls like you leave in the dust when you realize they won’t change. You stuck it out a lot longer than most, because you liked being with him and he treated you well – so well that your friends were jealous, even friends who’d never date him in a million years. But the two of you were never going to work long-term, so you broke it off the night before you moved away for university. It broke your heart more than you thought it would, but you told yourself it was the right thing to do.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t, because instead of accepting it and moving on, Tomura followed you. He followed you for the next seven years.

He never threatened you or did anything to make you legitimately scared, but that also meant that he never did anything you could point to when you called the police. No angry emails or notes. No forced entry – the cops always assumed you forgot to lock the door or shut the window, no matter how many pictures you took of the door or window after you locked it. No stolen valuables, but when something turned up missing, you always knew who had it. You knew Tomura would give it back, whatever it was, if you asked – but then you’d have had to ask him, which meant talking to him. Stonewalling was the best you could do, even if it didn’t work. At least he wasn’t stealing your underwear.

You tried to hold it together, but by your third year at university, you were a wreck. Your grades crashed and kept falling, and you couldn’t tell anyone. All you could do was keep it together and hope no one noticed. Eventually, someone did.

You met the man you married in the tutoring center your senior year, when you were trying to salvage a chemistry class you’d failed as a sophomore and were in the process of failing again. Kai was a grad student, tutoring because someone made him, and he was better at it than everyone else combined. One night you were there late, almost to closing time. It was dark out, and even though Tomura had never threatened or hurt you, the idea of being followed through the darkness by something you couldn’t see terrified you. You panicked. Kai saw.

What is it? he asked in that dry, calm voice he always used to explain things you couldn’t grasp. Are you afraid of the dark?

No, you said. It’s just –

What?

You wouldn’t believe me, you said. Kai didn’t put up with excuses. You knew that already. It’s fine. You should go.

You were both standing up, backpacks slung over your shoulders. Kai sat back down. Try me.

You explained everything. It spilled out in a stammered wash of tears, your chest tightening until you could barely speak, and all the while Kai sat across from you, perfectly calm. He was going to tell you that you were crazy. You wanted him to. You wanted him to say you were out of your mind, that nobody would stalk you of all people for going on four years straight, and you’d use his reassurance that you were crazy to be scared to force yourself to walk home in the dark.

Kai, who never touched anyone, reached across the table. You thought he was going to put his hand on your shoulder. Instead he cupped your cheek, smudging away your tears with his thumb. His behavior is ridiculous, but I can’t fault the impulse, he said. I’d have a hard time letting go of you, too.

A warning bell rang distantly in your head, but the relief of being listened to, being believed, drowned everything else out. I’ll walk you home, Kai continued. He took his hand back. You don’t need to be scared of him as long as you’re with me.

And Kai was right, because Kai is always right, because the laws of the universe would bend and break before they’d do anything but prove him correct. You don’t need to be scared of Tomura any longer. Now, almost four years after you married Kai in the culmination of a whirlwind romance, you know that there are worse things than Tomura – and you married the worst thing of all.

Your cheek stings, and you keep your face pressed against the cool tile floor of the bathroom, knowing better than to try to rise. Kai looms over you, expression perfectly calm, barely a spark behind his eyes. “Go on,” he invites you. “Make another excuse.”

You shake your head, and he kicks you – not in the stomach, but hard against your hip. It’s one of his usual targets, and there’s a bruise still healing there from the last time you let him down. You whimper in pain. “Tell me how it isn’t your fault,” Kai continues as you cringe away from him. “I’ve been to the doctor. There’s nothing wrong with me. Are you really going to sit there and tell me it’s my fault you aren’t pregnant?”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” you whisper. Kai kicks you harder this time, and you slam both hands down over your mouth so you won’t cry out. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Apologies are worth nothing when Kai’s like this. It doesn’t matter to him whether you apologize or not. He’ll stop when he thinks he’s made his point, and not before. The words sneak out of your mouth anyway. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry –”

“I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry.” Kai seizes your arm and the collar of your pajama shirt and hauls you upright, putting you face to face. “I want to hear what you’ll do to fix it.”

“I’ll exercise more, like the doctor said. And take the vitamins. I won’t forget.” Your voice rattles. “I’ll keep track of my cycle like I’m supposed to. I can fix it. Please let me fix it. I know I can.”

He studies you. You stare hopelessly in his eyes, searching for something, anything you recognize as human. But there’s nothing. Kai’s amber eyes are flat and pitiless, like always. “Good,” he says. He drops you abruptly, and you fall back to the floor. “Get dressed. I’ll drive you to work.”

Kai likes to drive you to work. He says it’s important for the two of you to spend time together. Maybe he thinks that’s true, but you only know the effect it has – it means you don’t have a car at work, that you’re dependent on him to get home, that you don’t have even a spare second to think or regroup. You have to do it under his watchful eyes, which is how you do everything. You can’t even put your makeup on to cover the red handprint on your cheek without getting feedback. “Do the other side, too,” Kai instructs. “It’s uneven.”

You do, your hands shaking. You make the mistake of glancing down at the negative pregnancy test still sitting on the counter and spill setting powder into the sink. “Next time, use the spray,” Kai says. “Hurry. You don’t want to be late.”

No, you can’t be late. If you’re late, Kai will be late, and you’ll pay for it – later, when you’re not expecting it, when you’ve made the mistake of thinking he’s let it go. You get dressed the rest of the way, pick up the workbag you packed last night, and hurry to the door. Or try to. Kai’s hand comes down on your shoulder with a bruising grip. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Your head swims with terror, and worse when you feel his hands wrap around your neck. But he’s not choking you – just putting a necklace on you, one he bought for you on your birthday a few weeks ago. “Make sure your idiot coworker sees that. I’m tired of hearing about how she thinks I don’t treat you well.”

Your coworker doesn’t mean any harm. She’s just joking, because you and she are friends, because she assumes your husband is the rational, normal man he appears to be instead of someone who took a joke about your work wife stealing you from him way too literally. You nod, and you force the words out of your mouth, the ones you know he’s waiting for. “It’s beautiful,” you say. “No one’s ever treated me like you do.”

You turn back to face Kai and see him nodding, satisfied. No matter how many times you say those words to him, he never hears what you really mean. He thinks about himself in comparison to Tomura, your loser of a high school boyfriend who could never get a job like Kai’s job, never make the kind of money Kai makes, buy the kind of gifts Kai can buy. You think about Kai in comparison to Tomura, too. Tomura stalked you for years. Kai might kill you one day. There’s no comparison at all.

The drive to work isn’t quiet like it usually is, because Kai always goes back to asking human for a little while after he beats you. You’re familiar with the cycle. He never apologizes, never pretends it won’t happen again, but he acts the way he used to when the two of you were dating. You both know it’s fake, but sometimes it amuses him to play the part of a good husband in private as well as public. You might as well go along while it lasts.

“I’ve been asked to represent the company at a conference in Dubai next month,” he says, and you smile at him. Your cheek hurts. “I’ll take you with me. Where else should we visit while we’re in the region – Istanbul, or Cairo?”

You’ve dreamed about visiting both of them. You’re also convinced that they’d be great places for Kai to kill you, dump your body, and blame it on the locals. But you know he won’t do that. There’s a specific image Kai is cultivating, and until that image requires him to be a widower, he needs you. “Istanbul,” you say.

“Hmm. I favor Cairo,” Kai says, and you freeze in your seat. It’s either freeze or flinch, and Kai hates flinching more. “Why not both? We might as well travel now. It’ll be more difficult after the baby is born.”

“You don’t want our baby to be a world traveler?” You keep your voice light, playful. “Think how far ahead they’d be by the time they went to school.”

“Only an idiot would expose an infant to the kind of pathogens present on an airplane,” Kai says. “Neither of us are idiots. We’ll have plenty of time to travel once our child receives a full course of vaccines.”

“Of course,” you say. “I shouldn’t have forgotten. I just got too excited about it. Us traveling as a family.”

“Yes,” Kai says. His hand leaves the steering wheel to settle on your thigh, and you force your muscles to relax. “This month was a setback, nothing more. Next month we’ll succeed.”

He’s let it go for now, at least. You allow the relief to carry you the rest of the way to work.

Kai’s been playing the good husband since you got in the car, but once he reaches your office building, he kicks the performance into overdrive. He parks the car in a no-parking zone, comes around to your side, and opens the door for you, hand extended to help you out. It looks like a grand gesture, but you know why he’s doing it – if he kicked you too hard, it’ll show when you step up onto the curb. Sure enough, you stumble, and Kai steadies you, setting you back on your feet. “Careful,” he admonishes. “The nurses at the urgent care are busy enough without adding you to their list of patients.”

“I’ll be careful,” you promise. You’re conscious of eyes on you – so many eyes, always. As the heir apparent to the biggest pharmaceutical company in the region, Kai’s a local celebrity. His comings and goings are always an event, and you know your role by heart. “Do I get a kiss goodbye?”

“It’s appalling that you think you need to ask.” Kai cups your cheek with hideous gentleness and kisses you in full view of everyone in your office who’s standing by a window, like he’s a soldier going off to war trying to give you something to remember him by. As if you needed anything else. “I’ll be back at five pm, precisely.”

He lets you go, and you head to work, turning back just once to wave at him. He’s still there. You know from experience that he won’t leave until you enter the building.

Once you’re inside, you duck into your cubicle and sit down as quickly as possible. The fewer people see what your walk looks like right now, the better. Emi, your work wife, flops down on your desk. “Saw you and your hubby making out,” she says, and pops a bubble of gum. “You guys are gross. When Shouta finally realizes I’m the one for him, it’s payback time.”

Emi’s had a crush on Aizawa Shouta from the security division for as long as you’ve known her. Most of the people in the office think she’s insane for liking him, given how scary he is, but you’re on her side. You know what scary looks like. You know that Aizawa, who’s gruff and grumpy but never cruel, isn’t it. “How’s it going with Shouta? Any progress?”

“Little bit. He lets me eat lunch with him now instead of walking away.” Emi sighs dreamily. “We’re going to have five kids. I’ve already picked out their names.”

“Five is a lot. You’re going to have to grow an extra arm.”

Emi laughs. “What about you? Have you and Kai had the talk?”

“About kids?” Your cheek stings. Your computer pings and gives you an excuse to look away. “Not yet.”

Windchimes sound over the loudspeaker, signifying the official opening of business, and Emi blows a kiss to you before ducking back into her own cubicle. As soon as she’s gone, you turn to the locked door in your desk and open it to check on your supplies. You’re almost out. You have a little over a month to figure out how to get more.

Kai thinks he has you under control, and for the most part he’s right, shamefully so. But since you went off birth control, since the two of you started trying for a baby, you’ve been keeping a stash of Plan B at work. Every time you and Kai have sex, you take one within three days.

When Kai brought up trying for a baby, you knew instantly what it meant. If you have Kai’s baby, you’ll guarantee that he won’t kill you, but you’ll wish he would, because you’ll lose every scrap of freedom you’ve managed to cling to. You’ll have to quit your job, which you’ve only kept this long because it suits him to project the image of the young power couple, both decidedly going somewhere in life. The baby will be the only excuse he’ll ever need to keep you tied to the house, to him. And if threatening you ever stops being enough to keep you in line, he’ll have someone else to threaten instead.

You’re terrified that it’ll work, and at the same time, you’re scared it won’t work at all. The bottom line is that you can’t have a baby with Kai. You’ve been sneaking morning-after pills for months now, well aware that you’re running out of time. At some point Kai will get suspicious. At some point he’ll suggest fertility drugs, artificial insemination, IVF, and then you’ll have only three ways out, none of them good. Kill Kai. Try to leave him, which means he’ll kill you. Or kill yourself, make it stick this time, and be done with all of it for good.

There’s one more thing in your locked drawer, other than the Plan B. Something that was waiting for you at work, when you got back after your suicide attempt three years ago, in a plain envelope with your name written in handwriting that triggers only a faint shadow of the anxiety it used to. Tomura didn’t send a letter. Just a picture of the two of you hanging out in Toga’s backyard, with a message scrawled on the back. You can’t run from me forever. I know you don’t want to. I’ll wait.

It’s the last message you ever got from Tomura. If he’s stalked you since, he’s left no trace. And on days like today, when you’re hiding bruises and battling a headache and sick to your stomach with terror, you almost wish he would. At least then someone would see what was happening to you. At least then you’d feel a little less alone.

You knew Kai was being too nice about the Dubai thing, but it’s not until you’re packing for the trip that you understand the full scope of the disaster. The trip lasts for seven days – three in Dubai for the conference, two in Cairo, two in Istanbul. It maps almost exactly onto the point in your cycle when you’re ovulating. And neither Plan B nor any other form of emergency contraception is going to be easy to get while you’re abroad. You spend the night before the trip in a panic, then the morning of the trip talking yourself down. When Kai notices that you’re anxious, you tell him you’re just worried about the flight.

“What about it?” he asks. “The airline has an excellent safety rating.”

“They all do until something happens.” It’s easy for you to summon up tears. “It’s just – things are going so well, and whenever that happens it means something’s going to go wrong –”

You remember sharing the same set of worries with Tomura one time, except it was about something silly – your lines in the school play, or maybe a presentation you had to do. You remember how he shrugged. Yeah, it might go wrong, he said, and you protested, indignant. I still love you, though.

“Nothing will go wrong,” Kai says, perfectly calm. “Everything will go as planned. And if it doesn’t –”

He doesn’t need to finish that sentence. You know exactly who he’ll blame.

Everything does go as planned – the ride to the airport, the always-fraught stumbling through security, and the settling into the airline’s VIP lounge with two hours to kill. Kai orders drinks. One for him and one for you, which is strange, because he’s been harping on you not to drink since you stopped taking birth control. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. I know for a fact that you aren’t pregnant right now.”

You don’t want to be pregnant, so it shouldn’t sting – but somehow it does. “I guess I should enjoy it while I can,” you say. “Thank you.”

The drink is pretty. It comes in a pretty glass, with a flower garnish, and you take out your phone and snap a picture with it, even though you haven’t had social media to post it on in years. But as the shutter clicks, a idea pops into your head. You set your phone aside, take a sip of the drink, and glance at Kai. “I’m thinking about redownloading Instagram.”

He’s just taken a sip, too. He coughs. “Excuse me?”

“I was talking to my supervisor,” you say. “About promotions. She said that when upper management is looking to hire, they check on candidates’ social media to see what their personality is like. If I want to get promoted –”

“You’ll no longer be able to work once the baby is born.”

“They don’t need to know that. And in the meantime, I should try to make as much money as possible, right?” Your mind is screaming at you to shut up, to walk it back, but you keep talking.  “I wasn’t doing anything strange on my old account. If I post a picture or two every week, it’ll at least look like I’m active.”

“I suppose,” Kai says. He takes another sip of his drink. “My account serves a similar function, after all.”

You’re featured on Kai’s account a lot. Most of his rivals for the top spot have messy personal lives, and Kai’s veneer of domestic bliss gives a leg up. “Still,” Kai continues, “I’m surprised to hear you bring it up. Aren’t you concerned?”

“About?’

“Your ex.” Kai’s eyes narrow slightly. “You took down your social media because of him. Aren’t you worried about attracting his attention?”

“He hasn’t done anything in three years. He’s lost interest by now,” you say. “And even if he hasn’t – you always told me I didn’t need to be afraid of him while I’m with you. I should finally start taking your word for it.”

Kai looks pleased. You reach for your drink, but he lifts it out of your hand and sets it back on the table. Then he takes out your paper boarding passes and fans them out, revealing the first-class stamp along with the destination. “Now take the picture,” he instructs. Oh. You pick up your phone. “If you’re curating your image, always consider what lies in the background. This looks sophisticated. Your first photo looked cheap.”

Sometimes Kai reminds you of Hannibal Lecter. You snap a few photos, then come up with an idea. “Hold your hand out,” you say. He extends it across the table to you, and you take it with your left hand. Kai raises his eyebrows. “So my ring’s in the picture. It’s sophisticated, too.”

“Yes,” Kai agrees. “It also says you’re taken.”

You nod. Your heart is hammering, and you draw your hand away from Kai’s before he can feel your pulse. You redownload Instagram, then give Kai your phone, letting him choose the photo from the several you took and edit it to his satisfaction. He adds the tags, too, but leaves the caption for you.

What do you even caption it? That depends on why you’re posting it, and even you aren’t sure. Finally you tag Kai’s account and type a caption that sounds fun, maybe. Flirty, but it’s okay, because you tagged your husband. And a little bit of something else, something you don’t want to look at head-on. Run away with me.

Kai’s personal phone pings and he consults it. “The caption is rough, but passable for now. You’ll do better next time.”

“Yes,” you promise. Your hands are shaking.

The flight goes well, but that’s not to say there’s no turbulence; a particular patch of unstable air over the Indian Ocean scares everybody except you and Kai out of their seats. Kai’s not easy to rattle, and you’re so rattled from everything else that it doesn’t make much of an impact. Once the air smooths out, the other passengers fall back to sleep quickly. Kai stays awake, and alert. “What is it?” you ask.

“The bathrooms are empty. We should take advantage.”

That makes as much sense to you as anything else. It’s not until you’re up there, opening the door to one, that you figure out what Kai actually meant. As tiny as airport bathrooms are for one, they’re smaller for two, and you have no idea how Kai expects the two of you to have sex in here after he’s yanked you into the one he just opened. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Use your imagination.” Kai shuts the door. The click of the lock is unbearably loud.

You don’t have a clue where he got the idea that the two of you should join the Mile-High club in the middle of an eleven-hour flight. Then again, you don’t usually know where Kai gets his ideas for spicing up your sex life. This one feels far enough out of his usual zone to be the result of something he heard or something he read. Kai likes things clean and orderly, and he doesn’t like to be rushed – and he doesn’t like needing too much active participation from you to make something work. You can’t imagine why he thinks fucking you in an airplane bathroom is a good idea. You’ve never been more uncomfortable in your life.

And that’s it, you realize. Your discomfort is what’s getting Kai off here, the fact that you clearly don’t want to do this but are putting up with it anyway, just because he said to. He likes the reminder of your obedience, and you think he probably likes to forget where it comes from. Either way, he’s into it, and you’re as bent as it’s possible to be over the sink while he makes quick work of your clothes. You catch a glimpse of your own face in the mirror, see the resigned, vacant look in your eyes, and squeeze them shut.

Your experience with men is limited. You dated a guy or two in college, but your constant paranoia about Tomura scared them off, and you and Tomura only got farther than third base a handful of times. It was never scripted, always awkward, because you didn’t have a clue what you were doing – and at the same time, it was good. Good because it wasn’t a performance, because you weren’t playing a part, because it wasn’t about anything except feeling how you felt. That was another reason it took you so long to break up with Tomura. When the two of you were together, you felt good.

There’s something twisted and wrong about thinking about the guy who stalked you while the guy who might kill you someday fucks you from behind, but you have to think about something. Kai expects a certain performance from you, given the effort he’s putting into being kinky and spontaneous, and you can’t do it off the top of your head. So you come up with some memory of Tomura, try to pretend you’re there instead of here, while Kai’s thrusts shove you hard enough against the sink to leave bruises on your stomach and hips.

“Look at yourself,” Kai hisses in your ear. His hand brushes against your neck, and even the suggestion of it spurs you to look up. “Look. Who else would do this for you?”

He’s doing it for you? You could almost laugh if you weren’t so sickened by your own reflection. You can make the right faces, mimic the moves he likes with the scant space you have, but you know what Kai really wants from you. Noise. You would almost rather he choked you to death right here than that he forces a single sound out of your mouth. There’s nothing he can make you feel that’s worth it. Not even your memories are enough.

But Kai doesn’t leave things to chance. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and you cry out before you can stop yourself. Your husband doesn’t try to stop himself either – he pins you against the sink, fucking you fast and hard until he comes inside you. “No one else would do this for you,” he pants in your ear, as undone as he ever gets. “Don’t forget that.”

Kai never makes the comparison to anyone but Tomura, because in his head, he’ll always win. And you know he’s right. Tomura wouldn’t have dragged you in here. If the idea had come up, it would have been as a joke. You wouldn’t be in first class, you’d be in economy, and you’d have woken up with the turbulence and gone back to sleep.

Kai pulls out. You’re dully surprised that he manages it, given how little space the two of you are working with. “Clean up,” he orders. “I’ll be waiting.”

Cleaning up takes a while. Kai’s cleaned up, too – when you get back to your seat, the entire row smells like hand sanitizer. He looks you up and down and nods in approval before he lets you into the window seat. Your phone, which you left screen-down on your seat and connected to the plane’s WiFi, is inundated with notifications, almost all of them from Instagram. People from high school, from college, from the life you had before this one, all excited to see you back, most of them asking for a life update. Asking about the ring, about the husband – about the drink, in one case. But once you clear those notifications away, there’s one last banner glowing up at you. From your period tracker, informing you that you’re ovulating as of today.

As the Dubai trip unfolds, it starts to feel like you’re leading three separate lives. One where you’re Kai’s arm candy with a brain, an integral part of his power-couple image. One where you’re putting up with his attempts to get you pregnant at least twice a day and talking about how excited you are for a baby that hasn’t been conceived. And one where you’re a normal person, posting photos of your vacation on Instagram.

You do a lot of scenery posts. A lot of food posts. If there’s a photo of you, Kai’s usually in it. You’ve been getting DMs from old friends, and the comment sections of your photos get a little lively. Your favorite ones are probably the ones where Emi tags Aizawa, who you didn’t realize had an Instagram until now, and demands to know why he never takes her anywhere this nice. Kai sees you smiling while you read one and comes over to investigate. “No wonder she makes so many ridiculous comments about me. Her partner can’t measure up.”

“They’re not actually dating,” you say. “She likes him, and he’s either gay or dumb about it. I think she’s just having fun.”

“Fun,” Kai repeats. He scoffs. “You should set a higher bar for friends.”

You heart-react to Emi’s comment once his back is turned, then go scrolling through y our notifications. There are a few usernames you haven’t seen yet, although you know they’re still active. If none of them interact with you, you’ll know it hasn’t worked.

Kai is busy during the day in Dubai, and you try to make good use of the time. You spent a lot of time trying to hunt for emergency contraception, a lot of time trying to see the things you want to see, and the rest of the time you’re on Instagram, messaging your old friends, queuing photo posts with meticulously crafted captions that call back to inside jokes from your high school days. The captions won’t make sense to Kai. He didn’t know you back then. The person whose attention you’re trying to capture did.

You’re aware of just how insane this is. Tomura vanished out of your life three years ago, and the best thing you can hope for him is that he’s moved on, found something else to do, found someone else to love in a healthier way than he loved you. So what if Tomura left you that picture? He can’t have meant it. He wouldn’t wait for you, not when you married somebody who’s as different from him as it’s possible to be. He wouldn’t wait for you. Who would?

And even if he did wait, even if this does work, what you’re doing is still incredibly far-fetched. Have you really given up on saving yourself so completely that you’re trying to get someone else to do it for you? You don’t think so. You just know that Tomura’s good at watching. Good at picking up details. You want someone to watch what happens to you, no matter what it is, and know the truth.

At night you go out to dinner or drinks with Kai and his colleagues. You know what part to play, almost well enough to put the whole thing on autopilot, and when you’re not answering questions about your career goals or telling someone how proud you are of your husband, your mind is sipping off in a thousand directions, hoping that one holds a way out.

You’ve done your research about domestic violence, and you know your position is better than the position a lot of people find themselves in when they start trying to leave. You have a degree, you have work experience, you have a credit score, and best of all, you have your own money set aside, a quarter of each paycheck going into an account with nobody’s name on it but yours. You and Kai had a fight over that account a couple months after the wedding. You call it a fight because it was the first and last time you held your ground and won, as well as the first and last time he actually knocked you unconscious. It’s the only time either of you ever went that far.

You have money. That puts you in a stronger position. And for right now, for as long as possible, you don’t have a kid. If you want to leave Kai, now’s the time.

It looks possible on paper. In practice it’s not. There are too many moving parts, too many times where things would have to go exactly right, and Kai’s the only person who has that kind of luck. Even if you got clear somehow, Kai could find you. He’d find you through the lawyers when you tried to divorce him, or he’d find you all on his own, and once he did, it would all be over. He’d kill you and get away with it, or worse, he’d find a judge, wave your extensive history of paranoia and your past suicide attempt in front of their face, and get legal guardianship over you in a heartbeat. Leaving Kai won’t work, not unless you leave him without the ability to come after you again. He’s too smart to get caught in the act of abusing you, so you can’t trust the law to protect you from him. That only leaves one option. And that option is unthinkable.

So here you are. You do exactly what Kai wants you to do for the entirety of the Dubai leg of the trip, and he buys you a pair of earrings that cost more than the downpayment on your house. You’re wearing them as you get on the plane to Cairo. He insisted.

Kai has an itinerary in Cairo, like he does everywhere, but because you haven’t messed up yet, he’s made sure everything you want to see is on it. He steers you through the city with an arm around your waist, effortlessly confident in the way that made you fall for him, before you knew what it meant. And he’s more lenient with you than usual, too. If you get tired, if you need to stop for water, if you take one look at a crowded market and panic a little bit, Kai indulges it. It takes you a while to figure out why. He’s been giving a hundred and ten percent at the task of knocking you up. Too much stress and it might not stick.

His indulgence continues through Istanbul, and because you go above and beyond to please him, you’re able to convince him to take the picture. Just one picture, of just you, inside the Blue Mosque, the place you were most excited to see. Kai gives instructions like he’s directing a photo shoot, about where you should stand and how you should angle your face to best catch the light, and instead of getting one picture, you get three. One where you’re smiling. One where you’re looking up in awe. And one where you’re glancing back over your shoulder, the neckline of your shirt pulled aside, the faint shadow of the bite mark visible beneath it.

Kai doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care. He wants to post the pictures on his instagram, but you talk him out of it, compromising by giving him photographer credit in a caption Emi promptly calls out as “simping”. You embed the photo in the middle of a three-photo post before you leave the hotel, and you don’t check the notifications until the plane back to Tokyo has reached cruising altitude. The instant you do, your heart stops in your chest.

You’ve been waiting, hoping, but nothing prepares you for what it feels like to see it at last. togachan817 has liked this.

Himiko’s had that same handle since high school, and you never blocked her, not even when you realized she was feeding information about you to Tomura. You’d thought the two of you were friends, and you’d been too hurt to do anything but deactivate your account. And you’re glad you never blocked her. Now she’s seen your post. You know she’ll tell Tomura. And now it’s out of your hands.

Which of the photos did she like? You tap the notification, and the center photo appears. The one where you aren’t smiling. The one with the bite.

[scarareg]

From 0 to 10, which grades would you give to PJO ships?

Hi anon! This is such a fun question! Thanks for sending it! I tried to choose the most popular ships because there are so many variations of them, but if you are curious about a specific one that I didn't mention, feel free to ask!

Percabeth (Percy x Annabeth)

3/10 I give it a 3 only because in PJO they are cute but in HOO they are full of red flags and I hate what Rick did with them. I feel like their goals for the future do not align at all, and it is as if they together because that is what they are used to and not because they are in love. It seems like Percy is always trying to accommodate to what Annabeth wants and I think in the long run that would make him miserable, and those feeling will make worst a relationship that is already fragile.

In the future he is going to resent her so bad, because we already see that he doesn't feel comfortable joking/talking about some topics because Annabeth gets mad, now add him feeling like he has to follow everything she says or do just to be "the perfect boyfriend". It is a recipe for disaster

AnnieLuke (Annabeth x Luke)

1/10 this one is complicated. The thing is that I understand the appeal of a childhood besfrieds to lovers, I love those, BUT Luke never saw Annabeth as anything but a little sister. That + the fact that their relationship became toxic, it just make me uncomfortable. Sorry Annie, but this one is not the one, at least in my opinion (and in Luke's lmao)

Perluke (Percy x Luke)

4/10 I see you fans of friends to enemies to lovers or friends to lovers to enemies, I get it, but to me this one lacks that je ne sais quoi to make it appealing. But I can understand why some people like it. And I am part of the team "Percy had a crush on Luke yet he was the last to know"

Percico (Percy x Nico)

10/10 they are my OTP. I like how they complement each other. They have the history, the angst, the complexity. I like the dynamic of two characters who went through a lot, but deal with trauma in opposite ways.

They are ride or die for each other, but they keep that information a secret from each other, which makes their relationship really fun.

Most importantly Nico thinks Percy is cool AF and he adores him just the way he is. Percy is one of the few people who tried to get close to Nico and to understand him.

Their empathetic nature would make this relationship super sweet, tender and calm. For example, if one of them need to rest or are stressed out, they can go to the other and they will know if they need to talk or just want to nap.

Bonus points because their relationship with each other's parents would make their relationship even more interesting and fun!

Perachel (Percy x Rachel)

9/10 love this one! My second fave Percy ship! This is Percy's loss, to be honest. Their chemistry is super natural and they are always having fun! Rachel seems like a low-maintenance partner, so being with her must be pretty easy. She would not make drama if Percy can't be there with her for some time because he has to save the world or whatever. I think he can chill with her, and just like with Nico, Percy just being Percy is enough

Valgrace (Leo x Jason)

9/10 What I like about them is that both are insecure about themselves but always see the best in each other. Jason is Leo's hype man and Leo is always thinking about how impressive Jason is. Where Leo is chaotic, Jason is calm. Where Jason is anxious, Leo is chill. They just screams healthy couple

Jiper (Jason x Piper)

2/10 the problem here is how the relationship started. Both of them are really kind to each other, but their romance is based on a lie, which neither of them is to blame for, but it just feels wrong. To me, after knowing how their relationship started, Piper seems to like Jason enough to stay a couple, and Jason was too kind and just rolled with it, and that is not good reason to stay with someone in my opinion.

Liper (Leo x Piper)

9/10 shout out to @maygirlsposts to make me see the light with this one! Before, it never crossed my mind they could be a couple, but gosh! They are so cute together!

Piper and Leo genuinely have a connection, they share sense of humor, they have been through difficult stuff together and are empathetic towards the other's problems. They have a healthy balance between being chaotic when they are chilling, and having the ability to have honest conversations when necessary. They are overall wholesome AF!

Extra points for being the healthy version of Hephaestus x Aphrodite

Jasico (Jason x Nico)

10/10 this one is not my ship,only because I prefer them as besties, but I see the vision of their shippers; and I give them a 10 because they are probably the healthiest ship Nico has, to be honest.

Jason is always so patient with Nico, and sincere yet kind. Is great to see Nico feeling at ease with him. Jason has the stability Nico needs in a relationship.

Both bring the best of each other, and push the other to do and be the best they can be!

Jeyna (Jason x Reyna)

8/10 oh what could have been! The tragedy of the lost potential! They were too powerful together and Rick couldn't handle that.

They have history together and understand each other deeply. They are both strong mentally and physically, so they could be the standard of a demigod couple. They are both healthy people on their own, so their relationship would naturally be nice.

Their love story could have been so interesting, like: separated by war and the gods, reunited by fate!

To tell you a secret, I see them as Nico's unofficial parents/older siblings. Basically, they both adopted him separately, protect him, and genuinely care about him. They would have been one hell of parents lmao

Jercy (Jason x Percy)

6/10 this one is fun! Again it is not my ship, but I like their dynamic. They give "Two bros,chilling in the hot tub, five feet apart cause they’re not gay" energy

Frazel (Frank x Hazel)

9/10 this is the only canon ship I like! Frank is super sweet and Hazel is always so kind, both are just wholesome AF! Like two teddy bears! I like that they started out as friends and both were seen as the "weird kids", that makes me think their bond is just genuine!

Lazel (Leo x Hazel)

5/10 they are cute, I just prefer them as friends. And not gonna lie, the fact that Hazel's ex is Leo's grandpa makes them kinda weird to me as a couple.

As friends will give them a 8/10, they need more time to get closer, but they already are super fun!

Fraleo (Frank x Leo)

6/10 They are funny! Like wholesome-awkward meets wholesome-chaotic. They just make me laugh because of how cute they would be, completely adorable! Too pure for this world!

I like this, but personally I like my ships with more angst, so I prefer them as friends. But you guys, their shippers, you must be the cutest, most wholesome people out there!

Leo x Frank x Hazel

7/10 I see the vision, but as you can see, I like Leo being their bestie instead of in a romance. But I understand! What's better than a love triangle? An OT3!

Pipabeth (Piper x Annabeth)

8/10 I like them a lot! This is the ship I like for Annabeth. In general I think Annabeth seems more comfortable with women. It feels like Rick wrote her as a lesbian-who-doesn't-know-she-is-one, but did so whithout realizing. Her chemistry with Piper (and with Reyna) just comes naturally and she looks like she is having fun!

Piper's fun personality complements Annabeth's logical one. Piper is all feelings, Annabeth is all brains, love that!

Also, just imagine their mothers' reactions when they find out they are dating!

Pipercy (Piper x Percy)

5/10 this is fun! But it needs that something else to make it super appealing to me, you know. Both are crack heads so they would be hilarious and a menace together! I can see the appeal! For me, I just prefer them as besties, like "Prepare for trouble! And make it double!"

Solangelo (Nico x Will)

3/10 in canon, 10/10 in fanon

First of all, can we talk about how fucking ethereal their ship name is? The ship name gets an ∞/10!

Now, the ship. I will start saying that I LOVE ships that are opposites attracts, but sadly this ship is a bit like Percabeth, but better. Let me explain. The concept is there, but at the moment of writing their romance, Rick kinda sucks. Genuinely think fic writers do a better job writing them.

For starters I have a problem with Nico being outed by Cupid. And I do not like at all that he doesn't have time to process that trauma, neither his crush on Percy and the heartbreak that comes after his rejection. Will is shoehorned into the narrative because "Nico needs a boyfriend" and Will is the only character available. He was a glorified extra.

This takes me to that I feel Rick thinks a relationship will solve all of your problems. I firmly believe that Nico needed time alone to recover from all of his trauma, which is a lot. But Rick's solution for this kind of stuff is "get a partner!". (Leo and Piper also suffered of this)

Is like: "Did you live through World War II? Your mom died and you were immediately stuck in an hotel for maybe one or two months? When you finally got out, were you in another century? Your sister died one week later? Years passed and you lived on your own for a while and felt scared and isolated from everyone you knew? Did you fight another war? Went to Tartarus and came back and then get kidnapped? You almost died, again? Had to fight again? Don't worry, having a boyfriend will solve all your problems!"

And I HATE IT! This is not Will's fault, it's Rick's. So I feel bad for not loving Solangelo in canon, but I really think Nico needs time for himself, he will have time for boyfriends in the future after he gets in a better head space.

Conclusion Will and Nico deserve better writers.

Once again thanks Anon! Would love to know what you think about this!

[femmehaljordan]

Similar to what a previous anon said: (SUPER Long ask)

A lot of people lack the ability to understand the message in the comics with the TT incident when it’s LITERALLY stated (you don’t even really need to like infer or dig into it) by Jason in his dialogue etc, even at other points in other comics, that it’s not that TIM replaced him, it’s that there should be NO child soldiers!!!! It’s that he’s was replaced at ALL because his death should have shown Bruce- an ADULT vigilante who got into the lifestyle as an adult in his 20s in the first place- that putting children in the costume will get them killed! It wasn’t a skill issue! Jason was a fast learner with incredible grades and was a great robin as stated by Bruce and dick themselves before he died! It’s that the job is so dangerous that it’s reckless of Bruce to think the best way to help a child out is to put a target on their backs! Heck isn’t there a JLA issue where green arrow calls him out on how many of his sidekicks have died?

Also real world morality DOES NOT apply to comic books because irl I’m against capital punishment but in comics heck yeah kill the joker and other serial killers, because these are supposed to be the worlds best detectives right? Thus the chance of false imprisonment and convictions should be low! Also as vigilantes they’re ALL technically acting extrajudicially!!!! Bruce really is just committing physical assault every day. So comic book morality and justice does NOT apply to real world values!!!!!!!!!

I think it was literally a fanfic that explained Jason’s motives best where it said that it’s not about not believing in rehabilitation, its about how fundamentally Bruce and he value different lives. Bruce believes all killing is bad even if it’s a single person regardless of their crimes, Jason believes the victims’ lives they took and the lives they may take outweigh rehabbing them. it’s about weighing the damage the victims have suffered and the justice they deserve vs giving the same guy his 100th chance.

(Sorry I just think that people who hate Jason generally have no understanding of him outside of bad canon takes or only experiences him exclusively via Morrison and Dixon and let’s be real modern day retconning of him being a Bad Egg From The Start. Sorry for the SUPER long rant! Hope you have a good day ahead though!!!!!)

Literally just ALL OF THIS.

I’m just genuinely baffled by the fact that people don’t understand the difference between a state sponsored death penalty and a guy with a gun.

And not to take over your rant, but continuing on the death penalty thing I’ve seen people say “oh if the Joker was that bad, he would just be given the death penalty.” Under the red hood was being written as the death penalty in New Jersey was suspended, and then it was fully abolished in 2007.

The the arc that was finally someone saying “hey this is fucked up. We have to do something about.” Was coming out as the death penalty went goodbye in New Jersey. Do I think that that affected how Winnick wrote it? Probably not, but it’s just an interesting argument because they literally couldn’t do that even if they wanted to in universe. 

(I would like to end this by saying I am anti-capital punishment. This is just discussing things as they were in comics.”

[space-helen]

Grade

Words: 1499

Pairing: All platonic (?) Nick Stokes x Reader, Greg Sanders x Reader, David Hodges x Reader

A/N: This was written back in October (sorry) but enjoy!

Request: Okay so this may be totally very random but idk either- the idea just popped into my head but my writer ass is too filled up with school to have motivation to write so- but like onto the idea.

So like, reader is maybe like, a student/works part time at the lab? And theyre everyones favourite as they can get along with everyone (even hodges though he would be the last to admit it-) but their grades are slipping majorly and no one knows as they keep up the 'im fine' mask before diverting the topic, like how that person is.

But one day maybe they get a grade or something in a subject they really studied for and its very bad or something else happens and someone just finds them in a very random spot and its all fluff :(?

Sorry if this was long and you dont have to write this if you dont want to, I just think your writing is awesome so :)

-🧽/Anon

______________________

You nervously checked your phone again before shoving it back in your pocket. God, you hated waiting for results. It seemed like you'd been on a losing streak recently. No matter how hard you were studying your grades were consistently low. You knew some of your classmates thought it was because of your job in the crime lab but you wouldn't give it up for the world.

"How's it going?" Hodges spoke from the other side of the room.

"Everything's fine." You forced a smile "the tests are running."

"Perfect." He returned his attention back to the work in front of him "You can go for a break if you want. Go grab a coffee, just be back to get the results."

"Thanks. Want me to make you one?" 

The man waved you off and gave you a smile "I'll be ok but thank you." Standing up you made sure everything was safe before leaving the room.

Getting into the break room you poured yourself a drink before looking at the snacks on offer today before turning and taking a seat at the table.

"How's it going?" Greg sat across from you at the table, a drink of his own in his hand.

"I'm ok, pretty quiet morning so far."

He laughed "today does seem slower, huh?" He took a sip of his drink as you did yours "have you had the test results back?"

"Yours should be done soon, Hodges told me to take a break while they were-"

"Not those." He interrupted "your grade for the-"

"Oh, they haven't come back yet."

"Are you nervous?"

You shook your head and took another sip of your drink, feeling the hot liquid slightly scold your mouth and throat. "I studied hard, it should be fine like always."

"I respect your positivity so much" he smiled as he checked his phone and then  downed the last part of his drink, you weren't sure how he did it really, you knew you wouldn't be able to with the coffee at this temperature. "I have to run but let me know when you get the grade back." As he stood he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and gave it a light squeeze "good luck."

You gave him a smile and thanked him but before you knew it he was gone. Enjoying the rest of the silence you flipped through one of the newspapers left on the table before eventually finishing your coffee and cleaning your mug. Walking back down the corridor towards your workstation you felt a notification come in on your phone. Seeing it was your results you opened it immediately but instantly regretted it, another failed test. Diving for the nearest door you opened flung it open and threw yourself through into it. As you stared at your phone screen you could feel tears coming to your eyes quickly as your chest began to feel tighter. This couldn't be happening, not again.

Nick had seen your odd behaviour as he turned the corner. Speeding up his pace he knocked lightly on the storage cupboard door "Y/N is everything ok?" he listened carefully for a response but instead heard your quiet sobs through the door. Opening it carefully he slid inside and his heart felt sorry for you as soon as your tear filled eyes met his.

"Come here." His whispered opening his arms. You closed the small distance and were soon in his arms, allowing him to hug you. "What happened?"

"The test." You sobbed "I just got my grade back" another sob "I failed." 

"It's ok. It's ok." The man placed his one hand on your hair to comfort you more as he brought you into his chest. 

As he did Greg came to the door and opened it carefully, seeing the two of you he gave Nick a questioning look and mouthed the words 'what's up?' 

'Grades' Nick mouthed back and Greg nodded his head. Leaning against the door frame he looked at you sympathetically, knowing how difficult it could be.

"I know it's silly." You pulled away from Nick and wiped your face. "But I worked so hard and it's just like I'm running in circles. Maybe I'm just not good enough."

"Don't say that." Nick said calmly

"Y/N you're literally incredible. Probably the most promising I've seen around here in forever. You're so clever and definitely have what it takes." It was Greg speaking now.

Looking at the man with tears in your eyes you swallowed a sob "It really doesn't feel like it right now."

Nick placed his hand on your shoulder lightly. "You should have said something if you're struggling with grades. We could have helped you out." 

"I didn't want you to all think I was stupid."

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Greg teased lightly "We're all in awe at how much you have going on and we'd never think you were stupid."

"Man, you teach me something new most days." Nick added in, moving his hand from your shoulder to your back, gesturing forward with his other hand "let's move from the closet though, it's cramped in here and there's better places to cry in the lab."

Nodding you allowed the men to walk you to somewhere more appropriate, the two of them giving warning glances to anyone staring or small shakes of their head in a 'drop it' fashion to those who looked like they were going to interfere. 

Sitting down at your desk, Hodges handed you your results as the two men stood next to you, clearly puzzled by everyone's expressions he had to fill the silence "what's going on-"

"I failed" You cut him off. 

The man's jaw was slack "What? How? Wasn't this exam in your main field of expertise? We work on it most days."

You nodded and rested your elbows on the table and your chin on your hands as your eyes skimmed the results he'd handed you "yep."

"You have to ask for a remark."

"Leave it." Nick spoke as he pulled up a stool next to you.

You sighed if Nick and Greg knew, David should probably know too since you worked with him everyday and you were actually quite close to the man. "I've been pretty consistent with my failing grades this semester." You didn't raise your eyes from the piece of paper.

"There has to be some form of favouritism going on." The man shook his head "you've never once made an error in this lab-"

Greg interrupted the man "I don't think this is helping right now."

"No it's fine." You looked up at the men "What's done is done. I can try and redeem myself in the next one but if I fail that too I'll probably have to kiss the lab goodbye."

Hodges grumbled "I'll help you. Whatever you need I'll help."

"Can't we just show them the work you do here? Would that help your grade?" Nick questioned.

You shrugged "we could try, but they'd probably just tell me I've got too much going on. Just like how my friends say it."

"They don't sound very much like friends then do they." Greg scoffed "we're here for you though Y/N, like Hodges said, anything you need." Greg's phone buzzed and he was quickly excusing himself.

You looked back down at the results and slid them in front of Nick as you talked him through them as I'd nothing had happened, the man thanked you and gave you a warm smile before leaving.

"What do you have for me next?" You asked Hodges.

"You can help me prep these samples?"

You smiled and began to cross the room to him when your phone began to ring. Answering the call without looking, you were surprised to hear your University lecturer on the other end.. 

Locking your phone you slid it into your pocket and took a step back inside your lab space. "You'll never guess what" Hodges gestured for you to continue speaking "There was apparently an error in the system and everyone was given a failing grade. I passed. I’m a little annoyed it happened but-"

"I knew it had to be a mistake.” Hodges quickly added a smile beaming on his face.

"I don't know what my exact grade was but at least it wasn't a fail. She said that although my past grades weren't great the ones they really take into consideration is this one and the next two we get."

He smiled even more "good because I have no clue what I'd do in here without you now" 

"Thank you, I really love the opportunity I have to work with you, I've learnt so much-"

He held up his hand "As much as I love to hear it from other people I don't want to hear it from you." He joked "go and tell Nick and Greg."

You nodded "I'll be right back" 

"There's no rush, enjoy the news"

Tag List: (open, send an ask or let me know if you want to be added)

CSI: @perasperaadastrawriting

[burial-at--sea]

what kind of characterization were people expecting for the bad boys episode?

hi anon, i can't answer for others but this is my understanding. basically, there were a few posts floating around claiming young!dean's characterization was off in contrast to his other appearances on the show.

you see, 'bad boys' young!dean was softer, kinder, and more innocent than other depictions of him like in 'after school special' and 'something wicked' (insanely enough, yes, this is mentioned in one of the posts) and that made people reject the characterization, most claiming the writers just didn't have the balls to write dean how he really is (rather, how they see him).

it's nonsensical to me because we do see dean at the start of the episode being violent, sarcastic, and closed-off (to mask his fear, of course) but as days go by and he is given a safe space without any of john's expectations, exploitation or abuse, dean thrives, gets good grades, does wrestling, makes friends, finds love, etc,, and certain people do not want that to be true. they need dean to be selfish, they need dean to be nothing without his family, they need him to be desensitized and violent and "mature for his age" (but only in the way where he's a sexual predator, not the maturity he displays at the end of the episode when he makes a very selfless choice so he can stay by sam's side)-- they need the version of him which sam's memories depicts in previous episodes to be the more 'correct' one, instead of the humanizing, softer version we got from dean's own pov.

my main issue is not the opinion of liking or not liking 'bad boys', it's with how people spoke about it which ties-in with the fandom's repeated dehumanization of dean, the denial of him being subjected to abuse, and their need for him to fit a mold so he can be their designated abuser. i think it's heartless, i think it's stupid, i think a bunch of people are not-so-subtly promoting for the idea that abuse victims (especially boys) can only look like one thing, and i hate it.

i don't think 'bad boys' young!dean is a bad take on him, even if you do think dean's been abused (physically, emotionally, and/or even sexually) by that point--as do i-- i think abuse victims can retain part of their innocence when placed in a safe environment.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

I'm back and still a nervous wreck!

I had the stupidest idea and wanted to know what you thought.

For X-Men evolution because I think it fits best there

Reader who wholeheartedly believes in conspiracy theories, reader who doesn't believe mutants are real even when they themselves are one believing that instead the government made up mutants as a lie to genetically enhance people and get away with it. Wiping their memories and leaving them to fend for themselves, they wholeheartedly believe that their memory was altered (when in reality their mutation just mentally messed them up, think like their body releases toxic gasses or something like that readers been breathing it in since they have no control over their mutation and it makes them smell strange one of the many reasons why they have no friends)

So reader goes to the same high school as the X-Men/brother hood but not with either groups from the start, this strange quiet and weird smelling child who rambles about conspiracy theories and while their theories are... Unique they aren't hateful of mutants so the X-Men don't really notice them they blend into the background mumbling to themselves and forgetting where they put their hoodie (it was on the back of their chair)

Reader gets sent to the principals office a lot due to the way they act causing raven to get closer to reader their charming attitude and slightly messed up speech and memory issues making raven into the first platonic yandere eventually having the brother hood keep an eye on them.

I imagine reader sticks with the Brother hood while also not being a part of them just rambling forever about bigfoot or area 51 and the brother hood don't have the heart to tell this strange child that got held back a grade their weird like so many others have.

And when Kurt shows up the X-Men become platonic yanderes Kurt letting them ramble to him during one of the only classes they didn't share with toad at the time (I can never remember when characters in X-Men evolution get introduced I only have a pirated version that takes forever to start so it isn't worth setting up an entire thing just to watch one episode) and so Kurt goes back to the X-Men talking about his strange new friend who Jean and Scott remember seeing around the school, so with interests peeked they start looking into this teen, a teen who's parents never come to parent teacher conferences a teen who has been known to be very good at forging signatures on permission slips doing it for extra cash, a teen whose address is missing from official paperwork thanks to raven and a teen who always comes to school in dirty clothes a teen who doesn't have a phone and uses the library computers, and showers at a 24 hour gym every other day.

And so slowly one by one this child sneaks their way into their hearts and into adoption papers.

I'm writing this as someone who had lived in a house for a majority of my life that was filled with mold I was allergic to my mom promised it wasn't black mold but now I'm realizing it probably was I slept with my head inches from it for years it messed me up in the head, some of the side effects were "mold rage" that's really what it's called and memory issues I kind of used this as a way to vent about what happened in my life, I really didn't mean to do that I'm really sorry you can ignore this if you want typing it out just made it better and spinning it into a fun story was even cooler.

Thank you very much, a nervous wreck of an Anon.

No, no, it's okay, don't worry. I'm sorry you had to experience that, Anon. While I didn't deal with mold, I did once or twice, when I was younger, have a bad hallucination, which I didn't understand, and I believed a few things that seemed crazy (but looking back on now, was caused by stress and trauma). It isn't easy to have your mental health or perception messed with, and it isn't funny, either. (So yes, to anyone reading this ask/drabble, do not ever make fun of or try to trigger a person who has something like Anon or I mentioned. It is NOT, and I MEAN, NOT FUNNY AT ALL.)

Okay, let me see what I can do for you, Anon, maybe call you 🐝Bee or 🐝Wasp Anon? Or maybe 💛 Anon (Yellow Heart Anon)? Let's try this new mutation out-

• Reader is the sort of person who thought everything had a secret to it. The government? Was run by lizard people or aliens, or had a secret organization who experimented on people. Area 51? Definitely held aliens and maybe eldritch nightmares, and possibly secret evil projects to take over the world. Bigfoot and yeti and dragons? They were all real, they hid in the forests, and were probably nicer than most humans Reader knew. And school was designed to indoctrinate children from an early age, all because of what happened in ancient times, which was overthrowing the king and queen and chopping off their heads. So. Yeah. They they had a lot of ideas.

• They had so many ideas and ways of saying them that their teachers usually sent them to Principal Darkholme, whom wasn't nearly as bad as some people made her out to be! Sue certainly did yell at Reader; no, she just let then ramble for a bit while she looked through their papers (and maybe spied on someone, because this lady can't just be a principal), and gave them a weird look. Not a bad one, no! Just well, not mean but not happy but not annoyed either. Something that made her tell them to come to her if there was a problem, and that some of her students would start taking classes with them.

• Reader liked these new kids! This one guy looked like a toad or frog, and he smelled a bit funny too, less like propane or like the house was in danger, and more like swamps and leaf litter. Maybe he was a frog person! That would be cool! Unless the government caused this, and now it's not so cool and they need to get kicked in the ****... Oh... they can't say that... Oh well. This Peter? Piro? Pietri? guy is really fast and talks a lot too, and doesn't seem to mind showing them all his hobbies, even asking if if have any they want to share with him! Woo, another person to hunt small bug dragons and look for fae with! The giant one is kinda cool, like, he seems unmovable and unbreakable! Is he part whale? Part rock? Part demigod?! Whatever he is, he's strong, and is gentle with them like he is with the Toad guy. The shaky one (he isn't a rock, but he insists he is more rock-like than shaky, which is nonsense) seems to keep people like Duncan and his posse away, so he's pretty chill! And then there's the witch, who's magic and is so awesome and is really red. Maybe she's like, a chaos witch? That would be interesting... maybe she has a coven Reader can try to join...

• Those five let them talk and even chip in their ideas, but then start insisting they're mutants, not magic, or aliens, or government experiments. Reader points out they wouldn't remember that part. That just earns them an odd look, somewhere between sad and worried, but they're back to rambling since they don't need to worry about their friends not knowing certain things. It's okay not to. Reader can't remember certain things either, and they don't always say things how they want to say them, and they aren't wrong for being that way, so their friends aren't wrong for not knowing either.

• They gain a new friend, who turns out to he a blue fuzzy elf. He's funny, and German, and Reader is certain he is part angel, because he's that nice. He talks with them, even shows them his powers, and asks what Reader can do. And Reader laughs, saying they don't really know... He looks at them, says he knows someone who can help, and that's how Reader meets his friends (or family. They seem like a family). Their professor/dad says they're all gifted, and so is Reader, but Reader says that they haven't noticed anything so far. The man says he can read minds, and Reader asks if he can read theirs... The man nods, goes quiet... and he seems to panic, his eyes going sad in the corners and his gaze a bit haunted or winded. The others notice, but Reader doesn't know what's wrong... They're asked to visit them every day, so they can get to know one another, as friends do, and Reader agrees, happy to have more friends!

• It's so odd, meeting so many new people! They've finally gotten everyone's names memorized (it took a few weeks, but it was worth it!) There's Principal Darkholme, who also crossdresses as Mystique (cool, she can change colors and shapes!) There's Todd or Toad, their friend they share classes with and who smells a little weird and is a toad person. There's Pietro and Wanda, twins, who both look very different from each other, like opposites. Lance is the shaky guy who walks them to and from places, and Fred is who is there as back up in case someone gets too close. Kurt is their fuzzy elf friend (who must be part angel), and who smells like sulfur from time to time. The Professor is sweet, if a bit authorative, and tries to make them tea and discover their power. Jean and Scott are two older students who both seem to like the colors red and green and yellow, and they both start driving Reader to where they need to go. Kitty is the one in pink who seems to go phase through things, like some Twilight Zone person, and Rogue is the one in green and black who can do anything. There's also Logan, their old-but-not-old guard/dad man, who growls a lot and smells like leather and seems worried about them. Storm is a goddess, who controls winds and rain and clouds and lightning and snow and sunshine (she's so cool!). And Hank is their friends their dad, who likes science and listens to Reader's theories and tells them someone once thought he was Bigfoot (Reader laughs, and asks how that went, and that Hank couldn't possibly be Bigfoot! They're both entirely different beings, that's absurd!) These people are so nice! They even share food with them! And go to the park! And go to the library!

• The others have tried to convince them they're mutants, not government experiments or aliens or magical beings or demigods, but Reader isn't entirely convinced. How could mutants exist? Wouldn't they look super different from everybody? Or be welcomed? And if not, then everyone is just being a ****... they still can't say that... Oh well. They've tried to argue with them, but each time they cut it off before they start sounding choked up or angry or worried. Reader hopes they're okay. They don't like seeing them upset, and they really, really are trying to do the right thing. They just wished it wasn't so hard on everyone.

• The Professor calls them over one day, saying he's finally figured out what their power is. Reader chuckles, saying they've talked about it before, and that Reader can't have powers. He says that no, he knows what it is, and that they need to sit down. So they do, because they won't argue with him when he seems excited and scared. And he tells them that they emit a toxic gas or fume or mist, which causes hallucinations or ilillusions to those who breathe it in or absorb it. He says they do what they do and act the way they act because for quite some time now they've breated it in nonstop. They're quiet, and they feel worried, and they ask to go home. They don't sleep that night, too scared to go to sleep, too scared to turn off the light, too upset to stop thinking about what might be true or false...

• Their friends don't stop talking to them, but they don't want to talk a lot for the next few weeks. It's hard, and feels hard, and they don't want to think even more about how everything could be a lie and it's all an illusion and how it could be a trick- There's just too much to do, homework to do, reading to attempt, home to go back to, and not enough safety to be blank and to stop thinking for once...

• They call in sick for a few days. They stay where they live, with its old walls and decaying floors and smell of old rot and wood and metal, the creak of the boards and squeaks of the hinges making Reader jolt and jump like they've touched a livewire. Their head hurts now. It hasn't stopped hurting since the Professor told them about their... power. They haven't slept well since then either, the few times they slept full of nightmares, their nights full of tears, their mind struggling to understand why this was happening to them and why it couldn't make sense...

• Principal Darkholme visits them, so does the Professor, but they came in while they'd been in a fitful slumber. Waking up, muttering to themself, weaving into the rooms... they saw them, worried it wasn't real, and were soon being looked over by two worried adults, asking if they're okay, if this is their home, where are their parents, do they need help- And all they can do is let them bring them out of the old place, ending up at one one their homes, where they're given a tea to drink, and they try to settle...

• They soon are told they can be helped. That the adults will be giving them something to take, that it will help them, and they don't want to take it- but they end up having to, because it ends up either taken willingly, or it's slipped into their drink or food, and all they can do struggle as their mind starts experiencing something that feels like a pick trying to shatter it in two... It gets better over time, and for once, they can feel a bit... calmer. Like they're seeing things from a new perspective. And now they aren't sure what to do, with the new thoughts swirling in their head, the new feelings, the new abilities...

• Toad or Kurt or Rogue is usually with them. They keep them company, they make sure they took their medicine, and call the others when Reader starts to panic or feel overwhelmed. Sometimes it's okay, and Reeader can calm down on their own. Other times, their illusions and hallucinations effect everyone, and they have to call the Professor or Jean to walk Reader through shutting it down. They struggle to sleep at night, afraid of monsters in the dark; it leads to Evan or Kitty or Kurt usually throwing a sleepover in your room, hugging you, even promising you'll be okay, that you're strong, that you're safe... Mystique always let's you know it's her, no matter what form she is in, and she makes sure she's there if you need someone someone ground you or keep others away. Hank still does checkups on you, but he never calls you crazy or thinks you're weird, he just smiles at you and says everyone is different, but you're all human, mutant or otherwise, and that it's not an anomaly or wrong to go through what you go through, as it isn't wrong that he's fuzzy and blue, or that Toad smells a bit, or that the Professor can't walk. It's all a part of life, and they're so glad you're experiencing it with them...

(I hope I did this okay, Anon. I did my best, and tried to convey this the best I could. And folks, it is okay to struggle with things like this. You're still human, you are valid, and you matter. Please try to get help if you can, and take care of yourself, okay? You're you, and you're loved💛)

[jaylaxies]

TEASER: CALL ME WHEN YOU HATE ME LESS

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader (ft. jaehyun and heeseung)

GENRE/CW: smut, angst, eventual fluff, porn with plot, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, blowjob, using panties as a gag, spitting, edging, squirting, mentions of fighting, blood, usage of nicknames, slowburn if you squint, emotional trauma, lmk if i missed anything in the main fic!

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 18.3k words (estimated).

TEASER WORD COUNT: 1654 words.

SYNOPSIS: Jake Sim was a walking academic hazard—hot, broody, and failing just about everything that wasn’t football. Enter you, his new tutor: organized, overachieving, and absolutely not here for his attitude or his annoyingly perfect lips. But between late-night study sessions, petty insults, and one very inconvenient almost-kiss, things start spiraling—fast. He’s supposed to be you project. You are supposed to hate him. Instead, you both are one sarcastic comment away from either a breakdown or a makeout—and honestly, it could go either way.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni (the full fic will include smut).

A/N: hihi, angels! if you have seen this before then yes, it is a revamp of my jeno fic as requested by a few anons! i hope you guys will enjoy it! send an ask or comment to be added! <33 (make sure to have your age visible on your blog! blank blogs will not be added to the tl).

Chapter 1: Raised in Shadows, Told to Shine. 

Comparison. 

The core of all insecurities. The onset of overthinking. The path to self loathing. 

That’s what comparison does to a person—drive them to the edge of insanity in hopes of turning into something; into someone the others will look up to, compare themselves to. 

It was a bad thing per se, but it was motivation enough for Jake to work harder in order to leave the country, to get away from his family. 

The reason? His mother ever so conveniently happened to have fallen in love with a rich guy, someone who never knew what struggle meant, and Jake was just four back then, he didn’t bother changing his surname. It didn’t take much time for him to settle into the lifestyle, however, no matter how much he could have prepared to face his step-brother, he simply couldn’t bother looking him in the eye. 

Why? Because he was known to be the epitome of perfection. Jung Jaehyun was the son every parent wanted, the student every teacher was fond of, the doctor every nurse wanted to work with. 

The sweet dimple on his cheek was a great asset in melting the hearts of everyone in his proximity or afar. 

Jake on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t considered to be enough, especially when he got decent grades throughout his school life, he wasn’t a bother, kind to those who were around them, but it changed. 

It changed when he got daily reminders of how he wasn’t even close to how amazing and successful his step brother was. 

That’s when things started looking down for Jake. He stopped caring about the grades, he wasn’t sure why he was supposed to put up a I’m so good, so smart act in front of others when there was no reason for him to do that. 

Others didn’t bother doing the same for him. 

Rather, he tried to work upon the only thing he was passionate about, the only thing that mattered to him—football. 

Despite winning several trophies for playing the sport, his parents labelled it to be useless, which broke the last fragment of his heart, shattering it to the point of no return. 

Which would explain his current demeanor—moody, permanent scowl on his perfectly sculpted face and no care for the others around him. His sole focus being football, which is also the reason behind his current dilemma. 

“Being an excellent player in the sports team does not guarantee you your scholarship, Mr. Sim,” Jake’s teacher incharge spoke up, taking off her specs right after reviewing his annual grade report, “you’re failing three out of five modules, and if you don’t start getting back on track soon, then I’m afraid you won’t be able to play in the team anymore.” 

Fuck. 

Jake had been neglecting his studies, he admits, yet he never thought that he’d reach this point. It’s not that he wasn’t smart, he simply had no motivation to go on with his studies. His parents could easily pay the university to keep him around, however, he wanted nothing from them, which also explains why he got himself a scholarship in the first place. 

“I’m sorry if I’m late.” Jake’s eyes snapped wide open, turning back to see his step brother entering the teacher’s cabin. 

“Why are you here?” Jake asked, a muscle in his jaw twitching but Jaehyun only smiled. 

Jake’s professor was equally stunned, probably even more with her jaw wide open at the appearance of such a handsome young man. 

“I called him in since your parents were busy,” his professor said, handling Jake a letter, “go and find your tutor in the council room, she’ll be helping you with the upliftment of your grades, Mr. Lee, and now if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got to fill in your brother with your current situation,” she said the last part awfully sweetly as Jaehyun sat down in one of the vacant chairs, smiling at her kind tone. 

Jake scoffed, the demeanor change around Jaehyun went crazy and he wasn’t a fan of it, especially when he was called in to complain about his mistakes. 

He simply wanted to leave the university and never come back. 

He waited, taking deep breaths before punching the wall, not being able to contain his anger. The impact did hurt, yet he paid no heed to it, the blood dripping as he walked towards the council room to get over with the day. 

The name written on the sheet wasn’t unfamiliar to him, rather it only wearied the already infuriated boy as he knocked on the door of the student council room, which was empty except for you sitting there, working on a few papers which appeared to be the newsletter for the month. 

“Come in,” you allowed, not looking up as Jake made his way inside the room, observing the surroundings where he’s never been before. 

Then he looked your way, taking in your appearance. You looked cozy in your university varsity jacket, your specs sitting on your nose as you buried yourself in reading whatever it was that you were reading. He couldn’t deny you looked pretty in a way that’s comforting to eyes. 

With no words exchanged, he pushed the letter towards you, which finally made you look up at the source of disturbance, your eyebrows raising slightly as you most certainly did not expect the star football player to visit you in the council room, which he’s never been to before. 

He simply stood there, hands shoved into his pockets while still looking around, and you took a second to grab the letter, skimming over to read and understand that the letter was given by Mrs. Kim, the teacher in charge of your department, requesting you to take up the few teaching sessions you had applied for, Jake being the student you’ll have to teach for the same. 

You clicked your tongue, folding the letter exactly as it was before pushing it his way, your arms folding across your chest as you finally spoke up, “I reject. I don’t wish to teach you.”

His eyes were quick to snap towards you, finally staring right into your own eyes, irritation clear as he pushed his tongue on his inner cheek, eyebrow raised. 

“Aren’t you supposed to kiss your professor’s feet, given that you’re in student council? And here I thought you’d be a good girl.” Jake rasped, resting his arms on your table, leaning down to your level. 

You chuckled, expecting the exact response from him, “this is exactly why I don’t want to waste my time on you—you athletes don’t wish to study, you just require a passing grade, for which, I don’t have time to spare.” 

“What the fuck do you mean waste your time?” 

“Sim Jake, you’ve got more money with you than your bank account can handle, so I’m sure losing your scholarship won’t do you much harm,” you said with a sickening smile, “you’ve got no interest in studying, your attendance record states that oh so proudly.” 

“You don’t know shit about me,” Jake seethed out, messy hair strands falling over his eyes. 

“I know everything I need to know about you. Now excuse me, unlike you, I actually have work to do,” you said, passing him a tight lipped smile, not letting the proximity faze you. 

“You—” 

Jake’s sentence was cut short with two sharp knocks on the slightly ajar door, a head peeking in, successfully garnering your attention. You could feel your mood doing one eighty with the sudden intrusion of this stranger—whom you didn’t wish to be a stranger around anymore, your eyes softening, lips parting as you stared at him in awe. 

Meanwhile, if Jake thought that the day was done being a bitch to him, then he was wrong because the level of irritation that bubbled up in him the moment he saw the change in your expressions. 

“Sorry to interrupt, may I get in?” Jaehyun asked, smiling his usual dimpled smile, which had you swooning in record time. 

You could practically see veins of frustration popping out on Jake’s neck, “no. Your work is done, you should head back home,” he groaned, but Jaehyun only looked you way, continuing to get in, looking your way. 

“I’m Jaehyun, Jake’s elder brother. I can’t thank you enough for agreeing on giving him tutoring lessons, especially with how busy you must be with council duties,” he spoke up, shaking your hand, which was smaller in his warm, big hands. 

Jake scoffed, “she’s not—”

“Of course, Jaehyun! It’s my pleasure to help him out, and it’ll only help me better with my extracurricular credits! It’s no problem,” you nodded, a gentle smile on your face as your eyes practically twinkled with excitement, taking in the beauty that Jaehyun beheld. 

It was ridiculous. 

It was absurd how just two sentences; paired with a sweet smile from his brother, were enough for you to change your decision, in the span of two seconds at that. 

He tightened the hold he had on the strap of his black bag, “no fucking need. I’ll find another tutor,” Jake deadpanned, walking out of the room, not paying attention to Jaehyun who called out his name in the background. 

He wouldn’t let you use him to get to his brother. 

With that thought, he decided to detour and make his way to the gym, trying to blow off steam by practicing punching, each one getting progressively stronger as his mind replayed the difference in your behaviour when it came to him and his brother. 

It didn’t bother him that his knuckles were bruising, he knew he needed this extrinsic pain to get rid of the obvious hurt he felt each day. 

And he couldn’t understand why he felt so affected by your actions, especially when it was the first time you had met. 

Jealousy was indeed a bitch. 

permanent taglist:

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl @dopedels @kaykay11sworld @glitterjay @skzooluvr @yongbokified @prkhaven

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[purplepeptobismol]

I NEEED MORE EMICOOP IDC IF ITS ART OR HEADCANNONS I NEED MORE

Im sorry it took a while anon! But here are just a couple I can think of from the top of my head! 😋🫶

—

Cooper

Starts piercing his ears at age 15 and even attempted to do one himself at 16 ☠️

This one is obvious but he thumps his knuckles the way Butters does whenever he’s overwhelmed/nervous. Maybe he picked up on it, but I like to think it’s a hereditary habit

Cooper is actually fluent in Spanish because he grew up listening to a lot of Latin American artist. [thank you volta for helping me coin this <3]

speaking of ^, his favorite is Selena and owns a vinyl of hers because I say so

Has a bit of popularity with a specific demographic (nerds)

its very 50/50 when it comes to getting along with people. If he doesn’t have a good first impression of you, then he’s not gonna engage, but is overall pretty chill with everyone

favorite color is black (space black)

academically advanced in science related subjects. Of course he is, it’s his favorite

likes really sweet stuff and absolutely hates salted dark chocolate

tends to have strict/high morals and a strong sense of justice (gets along with Kyle because of it, and will have political yap sessions with him and Isa)

likes to binge watch shows with Kate while they eat

Emilio

likes race cars/racing!! His jacket is a race car jacket and gets along with Kenny cuz of it.

Emilio doesn’t know a lot of Spanish, but he knows a basic amount (a literal ‘no sabo’ kid ☠️) . He failed Spanish y’all </3

has a lot of beauty marks!!

very in tune with nature and likes plants

joined the basketball team in middle school

picked up cooking around freshman year of high school and is actually REALLY really good at it

ends up working on the coffee shop with his grandparents despite his parents protesting against it

chill with people but he tends to lean on the people-pleaser side

pretty slow when it comes to social cues and reading the room

was a very fussy baby and toddler and has some anxiety issues behind close doors. He tends to keep appearances so he will literally be screaming and crying in his head but in the outside it’s full on poker face. (Learned this skill in the 6th grade)

was very clingy to Tweek throughout his childhood but goes through a rebellious phase in middle school that makes him have the typical ‘I hate my parents’ attitude

EmiCoop

Cooper fell in love first but he didn’t realize his feelings until the 4th grade 

Emilio is actually so freaking— ⚰️ y’all… bro does not understand what he feels towards Cooper for a long while. Internalized homophobia got his ass

Cooper gets along with Craig, and Tweek has a soft spot for him. When Cooper and Craig end up going on space related yap sessions, Emilio gets pretty pissy. Actually—

(pre dating) Emilio is the very jealous type, I’m talking ‘IFHY by Tyler’ type of jealous ☠️☠️. And since he’s not going out with Cooper, he use to get so angry whenever he felt jealous. He didn’t understand what it was or why, but that only pissed him off more.

Emilio tends to stare at Cooper when he isn’t looking

Cooper finds Emilio physically attractive 🫢

Around elementary, they use to spend more time in Cooper’s house. But in middle school and high school, they switched to Emi’s since it was closer to them.

They are active on social media, so they’re always sending each other stupid stuff in a groupchat with Isa

Emilio and Isa get along really well since they have similar niche interests, but they’re all scared of her when she blows up. Cooper is down to go through her schemes tho. Whenever the Marsh-Broflovskis are over, the trio become like the old school South Park kids. Do NOT leave them alone for more than 24 hours. They WILL set something on fire. (Robin and Kate would probably come along but won’t intervene cuz it’s ’not their problem’)

Cooper isn’t bad at cooking, but he’s decent. Since Coop beats Emi in a lot of stuff, Emilio gets competitive towards cooking, so he will often try to ‘beat’ him and make him eat his dishes just so he can hear Cooper say that they’re good.

—

These are a couple I had on my notes, but I’m open to answering more specific questions if you have any !!!

[thoughtsforsoob]

could i request a soobin with enemies to lovers prompt? 🥹 i think i have an obsession with this trope atm

a/n: hello anon! i hope you enjoy this. i wasn't sure how i was going to write this but i made it happen! i love the enemies to lovers trope but i cannot write it for my life. please enjoy this! i hope it lives up to expectations. 

you and soobin were total opposites. he was this cool guys with a close knit friend group and lot’s of popularity. he had a set group of people that would eat lunch with him everyday. he was really smart too. he constantly made student of the month and was on track to secure the valedictorian spot for your graduation class. 

you on the other hand…you had only two friends you hung out with everyday and you lacked the popularity he had. you loved your friends group so it’s not like you were complaining or anything. you were also very smart. you were good at pretty much everything you teachers put in front of you. art, english, math, history. anything. 

this is where your story starts. you and soobin usually did not cross paths at all and if you did…it was because he was insulting your intelligence and lack of friends. he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings so deeply but little did he know, you would go home and cry into your pillow because of his hurtful words. he would put you down by both only questioning your intelligence but even your looks. saying things along the lines of, “well, we can’t all be good looking and smart”. When he’d run into you in the hall ways during passing period, he would humiliate you by screaming and then saying, “oh wait, it’s just you. i swear i just saw something straight out of a horror movie.” you would go home and curse him. how could he be so handsome and so mean at the same time? it’s not fair! 

you two were made to cross paths on this occasion because you were both called into the principals office. the principal organized this meeting to let you know you both were tied for the spot of valedictorian and that you both would have to share the honor if nothing changed with your grades. soobin took this as a threat and you, were just fine with it. he started going on about how it’s not fair that he had to share such a high honor with a girl. when you left the principals office, he let you know his intentions to raise his grades to beat you. when you just shrugged him off, he grabbed your wrist. you glared at him. “let me go! i’ll tell someone!” he sighed and rolled his eyes, “as if anyone would actually care.” he looks you up and down, “just back down. you’re too stupid to even formulate a speech to accept this award. why do you even want it so bad?” 

you pull your wrist back, “it’s none of your damn business! leave me alone. I'm not backing down and I'm not going to no matter what you say.” you turn and walk away, back to the class you had left for the meeting. he watches you walk away with a smirk. he was thinking of ways to get you to back down as he walked back to class. 

after school and clubs, he went to look for you. he was going to tell you again to back off when he noticed something strange. he was walking into the gym since he knew you’d be come with volleyball (let’s just say you play) but the gym was really quiet. among the quiet, he heard a small voice, begging the word ‘stop’ over and over. he finally recognized this voice as yours. as much as he pretended to hate you, he couldn't help but go over there and asses the situation. 

you were being back into a corner by a sophomore in your club. his name was Jake. he was much taller than you and much bigger. he’d been asking you on a date at every single club meeting for a whole month. Since he always made you feel uncomfortable and unsafe, you would always decline. he kept asking and asking until he finally got fed up and decided he was going to make you say yes. he decided to do this by backing you into a corner of the gym once everyone was gone after practice. you always stayed behind alone to clean up since your friends had to run off to their part time jobs after club. he decided today was the day and he started to back you into the corner. 

soobin hesitates but decided the right thing to do was to intervene. he walks up behind Jake and when you see him, you gasp. Jake was looking at you with a raised eye brow and suddenly feels a big hand grab his should and pull him back. “hey, Jake. what are you doing?” soobin puts on a fake smile and pat’s the younger boy’s shoulder. Jake rolls his eyes, “I'm asking her on a date and she’s not saying yes! can you believe this? who wouldn’t wanna date me?” Soobin finally stops smiling and does what he came there to do. he pushed Jake back and the younger boy stumbled, falling onto his butt. "you leave her alone. you hear me? i thought you know better than you harass girls who want nothing to do with you?” soobin grabs your hand and looks at you, “come on. let’s get any from this loser. he’s got a lesson to learn later on. i’ll be back for you.” soobin threatens. you follow soobin as he gently pulls your arm to lead you outside safely. he refuses to let go of you hand when asking if you were okay. "did he touch you? I'm sorry he did that to you.” he groan and pull your hand back.

“why do you care? you always talk shit to me. why did you even step in? you could definitely not care less about me.” you look down at the floor, kicking dirt around. you felt back for talking to him that way after he saved you but you couldn’t help it. why did he do this? he looks at you, “i wasn’t going to let him hurt you. no one deserves to be harassed by anyone. not even you.” you look up at him with softer eyes. you notice how he got shy when you looked in his eyes. you smile at him for the first time ever. "thank you. thank you for saving me from him.” he take his hands and look at him again. "are you shy?” you laugh when his face and ears to red. his body betrayed him. "hey, this is no fair, you’re touching me. how am i supposed to react when he pretty girl touches me?” 

you gasp, “pretty? now you’re just messing with me. don’t do that.” your smile turns into a frown and soobin panics. “hey! hey! I'm not kidding. I'm serious. i really do think you’re pretty. im sorry for all those times i said other wise. I'm sorry I've been such an ass hole to you. i’ve treated you like absolute shit for no reason. you’re too pretty to be treated like crap.” he panics when you start to tear up but he wipes your tears away. he goes as far as to pull you into his chest and hug you. you melt into him and hide your face in his chest. he let’s you cry for a while. 

finally, you look up at him with puffy, red eyes. “so…what now? am i gonna have to go home and cry into my pillow because you’re going to tell me you don’t like me the way i think you do?” he smiled at you and wiped your face again. “i don’t think so. i like you a lot. how about i go in there and help you finish cleaning and then i can walk you home? we can stop for some boba tea? my treat for being such an asshole.” you smile at him and hug him again. "sure. but…only if you’ll be my boyfriend.” he turns red once again and whines, “Hey! what’s with your love of flustering me?” you frown, “is that a no?” he shakes his head, “you’re already got me wrapped around your cute fingers, you know?” you smile at him and you both hug. he places a sweet kiss on your cheek and you turn red. 

[kevin-the-bruyne]

If people get upset that you're not posting about FK they need to get a grip. I'm sorry to be so blunt but there it is. If you or anyone isn't feeling it anymore for whatever reason, or if you're still feeling it but just getting excited over something else, that is fine. I know this sounds mean and I like the FK delulu stuff as much as anyone but it's dumb to be upset about it.

Like I think we're all aware you're not gonna stop posting about Khaoting at least. Come on. It's not the end of the world if you for whatever reason don't ship him as much with First anymore. And getting bothered by talking about another ship independent of them is weird. They might be monogamous but you don't have to be 🤣

I ship khaotung so hard with first is the funny thing about this. first's place in khaotung's life is near equivalent to that of his mothers. I've been obsessing over this hug for days, totally unable to forget about it, it is imprinted behind my eyelids.

LIKE!!!!!

That's not husband wife or a boring romantic dynamic thats just straight up Pocahontas with her weeping willow grandmother like good for them coming in strong with the Disney ride or die dynamics. They are Ariel and Flounder, Mushu and Cricket. There are two men's hands on that boy and he's still trying to climb first!!!! Like damn son I'm sorry that First's ribcage doesn't open up so you can climb inside, I agree that god made a Very Serious Design Flaw when he made First opaque so that Khaotung can't spend all his free time staring at his heart beating.

Does First live in Khaotung's house? How the fuck should I know??? The only thing I know for sure is that if First wanted to be a fish, Khaotung would be the aquarium - does this mean they want to get married????? idkkkkk? I got bigger problems than obsess about who Khaotung will get married to. [for example: who will *I* get married to??? I've had two back to back LTR duds in my 20s so I'm not feeling very hopeful atm]

But I'm interested in everyone's viewpoint. The point is that there's a little bit of RPF for everyone to enjoy here. If you don't enjoy RPF why are you here and if you do but my content is still stressing you out - how is that even possible just scroll down to a different post in the delulu circus tag??

I ask for people to tell me what they're interested in so I do get a lot of opinions on what I post more or less for the entirety of circus posting - good and bad. Sometimes the bad is not that nice but at least it's in alignment with the kind of things I post. And I really don't care about WHAT people think of my clowning. If people hate it I'll stop posting it if they enjoy it I'll keep posting it. But I'm always clowning on my own time regardless.

But the people in my inbox this past week are so angry and I feel so bad for them. I am starting to think there is a contingent of users or one very passionately disapproving user who blames me for Joongkhao's popularity (at least on Tumblr) and like???? idk???? many people told me they like Joongkhao because of me so??? maybe they are like 10% right even????? No one puts me on a pedestal like an angry anon let me tell you.

But most of it's not even about me? Nothing that people have come into my inbox yelling at me for this past week are things I actually say???? Like I wish I knew WHAT was going on with that person that sent me A PARAGRAPH of anger in response to this post. I can't believe anyone can be THIS mad about my antisocial son making a friend 😭😭😭

Everything is fake!! Anguish over fandom is pointless!!!! I do realize that there will be anguish in fandom with or without me. But man I do feel really bad when I've made a joke about Khaotung wishing Joong on his birthday and it just ruins someone's day. It wasn't even that good a joke, if someone is going to ruin their day at least let it be a Grade A circus post 🤧

I operate on a belief that khaotung's gay love for his every friend should be a vehicle for peace and love on planet earth 😔 I think I'll be fine eventually and resume my regular clown-assery. I really just haven't paid any attention to fandom since December and I think I'm just in a little bit of shock over how starkly different everything is.

[dufferpuffer]

Ok, you win... not because I agree with what you say, but just because you once again managed to circle the discussion back to how dangerous and irresponsible Remus is, how he's a ticking time bomb and Severus's only hope is to set a bunch of 13 years old kids to kill him... I have lost the energy to debate. You seem to have an obsession with dehumanising and debasing Lupin's character and intentions that I simply cannot keep up with. The conversation about the appropriate responsibilities of a substitute teacher took a confusing turn. Terrorising your students can be considered good teaching as long as their grades are high. Way to foster interest and curiosity in young minds! He shows favouritism towards Slytherin (especially Draco) when he turns a blind eye to Slytherin students provoking their Gryffindor peers, but punishes Gryffindor students for fighting back with point deductions and verbal abuse. I'll give this to you: Snape can never be accused of giving more points to Slytherin as he has never given anyone any points.

I'm gonna do my typical response bullshittery underneath but I wanna say something really important to me first, even if I'm misreading tone and it doesn't apply here:

I honestly don't see this sort of thing as a win-lose sort of activity, more of a back and forth tug-of-war discussion game. I'm not trying to win, I'm trying to yap - to put thoughts and feelings into words and analyze what I think and why. Because that's fun. I'm sorry you've lost energy for it, if that's a bad thing - and not just a neutral 'gonna go play with other toys' sort of thing.

If it isn't too presumptuous of me to give advice (it is, ik it is): If you're walking up a hill into someones room (or their ask box) with the mindset of 'winning' being to change their mind... you're setting yourself up for loss. It's harder 'attacking' than it is 'defending', though I really hate to use those terms for talking about HP on Tumblr.

By that framework - I've 'lost' too. You've come onto my home turf and I haven't changed your mind.

Of course you'd be frustrated that I don't see things the same way as you when you've put good effort into presenting interesting points, I probably seem like a brick wall - but you haven't lost and I don't think of you as losing. I enjoy talking with you, Anon, and im glad you've climbed my hill to chat with me, even if it's ended up being tiring.

I really wanted to make that clear. As much as I like discussions and even getting a little heated or catty over things, I would hate to leave people feeling bad about engaging with shit we both love. I like when the internet is a passionate, happy place. If I've dampened that passion or happiness... that isn't who I want to be. I'm scared of that being my impact on people. I hope I haven't, and I am sorry if I have. That thought makes me feel sad.

I suppose I have circled around to Remus being irresponsible beyond that of the classroom - because it's difficult for me to separate it.

In a normal, non-magical, non-HP school situation: Would Severus have been a bad substitute teacher and Remus completely fair? Yeah, sure. But the situation is so far removed from that. The stakes are so ridiculously high - both in reality and in Severus' mistaken, deluded perception - that pushing it into that little bubble seems pointless.

Everything Severus did was coloured by his fear of Remus' 'plot'. Everything Remus did was coloured by his desire to stay hidden. How could I separate their actions from their motives...?

Severus thinks Remus is going to come in with a chainsaw on a murder-spree one day. That Remus is biding his time, gaining trust, pied-pipering kids into his office, making a show of crushing any respect for what Severus has to say...

Remus teaches a Defend-Against-Murderers class. How ironic. Hands tied behind his back and his collar chained firmly to the ground by Dumbledore - Severus marches in and says "Can anyone tell me how a chainsaw works? No? Of course fucking not - RIGHT: 10 million word essay on Chainsaw Murderers."

I just can't treat that as unreasonable...? To treat all that as a simple discussion of teaching tactics... It seems like twisting the complexity of it to make Severus look bad, rather than taking the context of the situation into account.

Severus teaching 13yr olds how to kill Remus:

He isn't. He wants to keep the students out of harm’s way. Protecting them is the core of everything he ever does.

He isn’t training kids to become werewolf hunters, or teaching them to identify someone with Lycanthropy among healthy people - because you can't. He's teaching is how to differentiate a dangerous magical creature like a transformed werewolf, something ranked as dangerous and untameable as Dragons and Acromantulas, from a regular wolf.

He wasn't saying "And how many days would it take for a person with Lycanthropy to recover from their full moon?" or ANYTHING that'd directly clue kids into thinking about people with Lycanthropy. (Though I'm sure he hoped it'd happen - and got his wish.) He only talks about the wolves. The dangerous form.

That isn't training kids to kill Remus for him. And if Severus really wanted to kill Remus, he could have done so in the shack when he believed Remus purposefully didn't take his potion and was about to tear Harry, Ron, and Hermione apart.

Terrorising your students can be considered good teaching as long as their grades are high. Way to foster interest and curiosity in young minds!

The point is that he doesn't do that nearly as much as he seems. The whole point of the narrative is that Harry see's all the bad shit he does - which is bad, of course it is - and ignores everything else.

The evidence being that few others particularly dislike him. Neville gets over him. Hermione defends him. Other students show mild annoyance with him at most because he is strict and an ass - but also say they enjoy his classes, and they do well in them.

They do so well that despite being an ass that holds nobody's hand he has an insane success rate - and willingly populated classes. Would he be a better teacher if he was more like Lupin and could change his teaching style to support those who are struggling? Of course he would be. I'd say Remus is a better teacher.

But Severus isn't a bad teacher.

He says mean shit - but its no meaner than McGonagall, nor is he more strict, nor does he show more house bias. The meanest thing anyone said to Hermione was probably Trelawney, whom she couldn't stand. She respects and defends Snape. Hagrid's classes range from dull to painful to endure, he doesn't teach them anything useful, mutters about students under his breath and is mainly teaching them how to torture animals to death.

None of that excuses Snape's bad behaviour - but it shows what students are used to. Severus is not a stand-out case. Harry just obsesses over him. We don't see everything Snape does, only what Harry notices - evidenced by the fact Severus has populated classes with students who choose to attend them.

It's not that terrorizing his students is 'good teaching'. It's that he is a good teacher regardless of that. He doesn't terrorize students - he terrorizes Harry, and has no patience for Hermione and Neville because they piss him off.

dehumanising and debasing Lupin's character

I'm not sure when I've ever done this, or how I managed it.

Remus Lupin is a complex guy, ruled by anxiety and self-loathing. He constantly battles guilt, overjustifying his actions to ease his cognitive dissonance. Despite this he has a habit of making rash, risky decisions - especially when it comes to affection and acceptance, which he shames himself for craving.

He bundles all his flaws in his fur coat, because thinking himself unworthy and unfixable is easier than learning to be a better man. His 'kin' are the werewolves far away from society, and it is cute that Harry has any faith in him - that's how he feels about himself.

He didn't want to be a teacher, didn't think himself worthy - but was talked into it with the promise of being able to try Wolfsbane. Wolfsbane wasn't what he hoped it'd be. He longed for the days where he could place his full moons into other peoples hands. When he felt less like something dangerous that had to be chained down. The best days of his life: having people fighting for his sake.

That's how he lives his life at Hogwarts: He tries to be the height of cool again. A fun teacher everyone likes, who gives easy work and marks leniently, who prioritizes fun over making sure all his students learn everything well. The opposite of Snape, who doesn't give a shit how his students are feeling as long as they are learning how to brew potions perfectly. You don't want a toad poisoned - or a werewolf poorly sedated.

Remus goes out of his way to peck Snape because he knows Snape can't bite back while on Albus' leash. He pushes himself up by pushing Severus down. Cheeky insults, feigned innocence, smug lies - allowing him to be humiliated. He leans on having others look after him every Full Moon, enjoying feeling normal and accepted. He turns away from his responsibility over not only his own condition but Sirius Black's behavior - fearing losing his happy place in Hogwarts and the affection he craves.

All of it - just like when they were kids. Remus hasn't changed. He knows he hasn't changed, and is disgusted with himself for it.

Like every other DADA teacher except Severus (who on a first read seems to follow the pattern but doesn't, that's the twist) Remus had selfish ulterior motives that didn't align with the children's best interests.

Is that a dehumanising, debasing read of his character...? I don't think it is. I think it is very human - and also very delicious, and also I very love him

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - June 14

mirrorball anon, crumbling anon, midnights anon, comforting friend anon, usaid anon

(Sorry if these seem a little off, I write and posted all of these earlier only to find that they didn't fucking post....so this is the second time I;m writing them out!!!"

mirrorball anon

I’m really sad all the time

and my trust issues are through the roof

there is one single person I currently trust completely

that’s it

it used to be like 10+

I used to feel like people weren’t out to hurt me

Now I don’t think that’s true anymore

and I don’t know what to do

I wish I could just go back to like August and tell myself who to trust and who not to trust to spare myself all the shit I’m going through now. People keep telling me it gets better but every day just seems to make it worse and I don’t know what to do.

And I feel like the few people I have left are going to get sick of me being depressed and always venting and always having some issue because I think everything is my fault

I just wanna feel okay again, Cas. I just wanna feel safe and at peace again.

-🪩

Hi ❤️ I am so sorry you’re feeling this way right now. I wish I could tell you that all people are good people and you can trust people but we both know that’s not true.

I CAN tell you that there are some amazing people who are worth dealing with the bad people. That you sometimes have to go through getting rid of some real shit people to meet some amazing people. And even though it sucks right now it will get better. 

I’m sending you so much love and I’m here to vent to ❤️

___

Midnights anon

Hi! It’s midnights anon. I don’t know if this’ll be long or short but I have a TON on my mind so if this is short I might send in another ask later?

I got my grades for 2 of the exams! A 95 on my college-level AP bio test, and an A- on my history exam. I don’t know about the rest but yeah! I know everyone else around me doesn’t think it’s that big a deal but I’m proud of myself. I mean, I’ve been taking college-level AP bio for FRESHMAN YEAR and I’m leaving it with an A- to an A! I’ve been stressing and working so hard and I’m proud of myself, even if it might not be that rare since everyone around me does well too.

So… for the first week of summer vacation after my first year of highschool (I’m a sophomore now!! Yay? I’m feeling kinda weird about it) my parents took me to New York for an event my dad was doing and we went to a ton of vintage/thrift stores. It sounds fun in theory but I e been exhausted, overstimulated, and disassociating the entire time. I’m truly grateful for them, and their support and what they do but, I’m just so tired, you know? I really miss my vinyl and my plants and my shower at home, this trip has been kinda rough. And I’m sore from training and the beds are kinda hard to sleep in? I think it might be the undiagnosed autism? Nothings really wrong, so I’m not complaining but, it’s just sensory issues I guess? I feel kind of ungrateful or just, dumb for feeling like this.

Also being around my parents 24/7 has been difficult. But I’ve managed! It sounds kind of stupid but I’ve just been letting the feelings come and go, and I think of my emotions like a cats? Sometimes cats just decide not to like you for the day, or even hour, and that’s just so much less pressure. Like,

yeah dad you made me upset when you said I can’t eat for 7 hours, so I’m just going to take a break from you and not engage

And then everything’s fine when I’m feeling okay again.

Also I’ve been remembering middle school me, about how I was bullied in 7th grade (redacted) and looking back objectively, I can say confidently that nobody my age liked me. And not in a “I hate myself and so did everyone else” way but a “you did nothing but be a middle schooler and people hated you for that, and you didn’t deserve that” way, like, comforting my younger self.

Also my friend invited me to a thing she finds super important (since it’s her hobby/after school activity she loves) and I don’t really want to go, BUT she’s an introvert and (from my guess) she hyped herself up to invite me because she randomly texted me in all caps in the middle of a school day if I wanted to come see her swim competition. I have done the exact same thing (randomly texting someone in all caps after an extended period of time to ask if they wanted to hang out even though I was terrified to ask) and I know how it feels to be rejected (also also, she’s a cool person who I want to get to know) soooo I’m probably gonna go! I see myself in her sorta? I want to be a good friend, since she’s a great person.

Also, I’m heading to an outdoor movie picnic thing on Thursday and watching mean girls (which I’ve already seen so I know I’ll have a good time) with a ton of strangers from around town, and next Wednesday there’s a writers workshop at the library, so I’ll try and make friends there!

I feel slightly less self-conscious too, I think my body is pretty cool and stuff! I like looking at my veins because there’s types of metals/elements in there that are only found in living things or dying stars! And it moves me and keeps me alive nd can feel cool things. I’m pretty lucky to be alive, even when it gets rough.

I do feel kind of weird though? Like something’s off, or that the other shoe is about to drop, or anything. I might just still feel off from the overstimulation/derealizing but although I feel okay about myself in general I have a weird feeling that everyone hates me and wants me dead? I don’t understand how I feel so okay logically but also feel like people want to hurt me or make me feel bad?

Azejdldjagajsjgmggfjhdff I don’t know what’s up with me

Anyways, thank you for reading! I hope you’re doing well!

Byeeeeeeee

Hi! First of all, congratulations on your grades! Thats such an accomplishment!

As far as your trip- I can totally understand your feelings. I always feel like I need a vacation AFTER my vacation, just to like...reset after a trip. That's valid!

I'm happy to hear you're being nicer to both your middle school and current self. You deserve kindness and love, and you're absolutely RIGHT that you did not deserve any of what you described.

As far as going to your friends thing, I hope you go! It sounds like you're emotionally intelligent and you understand that it means a lot to her, even if it's not your favorite thing to do, and I think she would be so happy if you went (as long as you're comfortable.)

For your weird feeling- I've read before that people who've experienced trauma can sometimes have trouble in happy times because they're not used to NOT being in fight-or-flight mode. Do you think that could be it?

Anyway, I'm glad things are going well right now! Sending love!

___

crumbling anon

Ok so crumbling anaon back thanks so much for honestly just listening it felt like that crush was suffocating first off I should have spell checked that (dyslexia lol) but that crush is not going away anytime soon lol and she has told me about her crush so I'm 100% sure she doesn't like me I've been trying my best but tbh Ive never felt this Way to anyone and I'm so scared of losing her as a friend but it's gotten to a point where I might just tell her

That makes sense! Just remember that whatever you decide to do, you deserve to be treated with compassion and respect. She's not required to feel the same way as you, but she DOES have to be kind, and if she isn't, she's not a good friend <3

___

comforting friend anon - tw- food

hi cas! this is comforting friend anon.

so i had another conversation about this stuff with that friend a day or two ago, and just sort of listening seemed to go well. we dont have these conversations very often, and since what i did this last time seemed to work, i dont think i need much advice. can i just rant?

okay, so two things. first, my mom is kind of odd about food and body image. she seems to think half a bagel is plenty of food for anyone, and has even told me that im wasting food when i had a full one before. she and most of the rest of my family are pretty skinny or lean people, and i definitely eat a lot compared to them. for the most part, though, i think i like my body. i run and work out a lot, so i have a lot of muscle mass, and i think other than some belly fat and leg hair, i like almost every part of my body. but when i say any of this stuff, she just says that im "apple shaped" and that i just need to "suck in" when im wearing dresses, which feels a bit backhanded to me. i recently wore a dress for the first time in a while, and i hated that i felt the need to suck in my belly and all that the entire time. i, being 5'6 and 135 pounds, am a pretty reasonable weight for my age. my older sister on the other hand, being about the same height but 25 pounds lighter, is very thin. and she'll show off her completely flat stomach around the house all the time, while i feel the need to wear baggy clothing constantly around my house. its just annoying and tiring. and i dont think i have an eating disorder right now, but i do think i did in the past because of a lot of this. i would eat only about half a dinner for a few days, and i would do this over and over again. then, of course, it was only until i was feeling okay about my body that my mom accused me of "trying not to eat" when i didn't have much of an appetite for one meal.

the second thing is back to my friend. like i said, we had another conversation a few days ago. she said that she was upset because she lost ten pounds after not eating for one day. and like... one, i don't think that's how that works, and if it is, something is very wrong. and two, i watched her have a pizza in front of her during lunch on the day she was talking about, and she literally just ignored it for all of lunch. if she wants to gain weight, then she kind of has to actually eat. i told her this with a bit different wording a while ago, and she was just like "oh, i eat after school." except ive been to her house. most of the food there is oreos and a bit of fruit. her family orders takeout for most of their meals, so there isnt anything actually good to eat for snacks. so yes, i think she eats food after school, but i dont think its much, and i dont think its very good food that would make her gain the weight she wants. nd then shell complain about not gaining weight. like girl, complain all you want, but at least be putting in effort to try to improve towards your goal. and sometimes shell say that she feels sick or something, which makes it understandable why she wont eat, but usually she just refuses because the "cheese is wrong" on her pizza (theres so many options to eat other than pizza for school lunch at our school) or that she doesnt like getting told what to do. its just sort of frustrating to hear and see all of this.

i didnt exactly plan on writing this much, so sorry about that. again, i dont want advice, i just wanted to rant somewhere. if you read all this, thanks!

Hi!

Honestly it sounds like you have the healthiest relationship with food by FAR, out of everyone in your family. Like I know it's hard, but PLEASE try not to listen to your mom or anyone else. You're right, a while bagel is completely okay. And I'm not a professional but you sound like a completely normal weight! Your mom seems to have a lot of food problems and if the doctor isn;t concerned, you shouldn't be either. I'm sorry your mom is acting this way.

And your friend...it seems she has some food issues too. Does anyone know about how she;s acting? I feel like maybe an adult should know, because it's a bit concerning.

Sending love!

___

usaid anon

I just feel so stuck. Theres so much going on and i dont know how to help. Whats going on in LA right now and gaza and everything i just feel like im doing nothing. Life doesnt stop and it feels like it should. It feels like we should be droping everything and helping the people in gaza stopping the wars that are going on everywhere else and stop trumps stupid policies but we arent it feels like nothings changing and i cant do anything to help change it anyway. I cant go to protests im halfway across the fucking world. This sucks everything sucks. I want to help i just dont know how

I totally understand what you mean <3

Remember though, voices are powerful, and a big thing we can do is to NOT STOP TALKING about these things. I think one of the problems is people have turned it into a fad, to fight for certain issues. We can't make it something we just talk ab out for a little while, then stop. We need to keep talking, even after changes start to get made. If we keep talking, (and, for those that can, voting) then eventually, some people will stop ignoring us. So keep talking! <3

[starheirxero]

*waves*

hiii xero, quick question because I know you like talking about character depth and dynamics: any thoughts on how Moon and Lunar's relationship changes throughout the first few arcs of the show? If not, any takes on the current tsams arcs? (You're also free to just ramble about anything, I know some people prefer specific questions and some don't, that's fine!)

Hope your day's going well!

HI MINUTE !! NO I LOVEEE SPECIFIC QUESTIONS especially about my fixations like this eeeee!!!!!!

oh my GOD okay so get this. When I say this I mean it with humor and not annoyance, but have asked the funniest initial question because I loathe Moon and I adore Lunar LMAOOOO

I used to not mind Moon when I first was watching! Which means that I used to find Moon and Lunar's dynamic really sweet and endearing!! I remember having pretty visceral reactions to Lunar asking Moon if they could call him brother and Stardust anon's idea that the chibi model was based in Lunar adoration for Moon was so important to me!!

But I started hating Moon because of how DOWNRIGHT AWFULLY HE STARTED TREATING LUNAR RECENTLY LIKE DHKSHFJDJF HE WAS SO FUCKING MEANNNN TO LUNAR AFTER THE NSP ARC. HE MADE THE MIND GRINDER!!!!! HE SAID "HEY, LITTLE BROTHER WHO I LOVE. YOU JUST BECAME A BAD PERSON, SO LET'S BRUTE FORCE YOU INTO A GOOD PERSON" LIKE WHAAAATTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem. So I used to think their relationship was sweet, n even when Lunar was distant towards Nea Moon I thought it was kinda interesting, and then Old Moon started being a grade-A hater and I think Lunar should be allowed to punch him directly in the motherboard at least once. stars bless 🙏

Also admittedly I am nooootttt caught up on tsams so. uhhh checks notes. congrats on the new gay plural guy!!! (novafrost LOL)