#it's a name now sure but that's NOT where it came from

[sooniebby]

an idea; a (bottom) male reader who’s apart of an indie jpop boy group. The members are just you, a childhood friend, and three other people you met through college/random events. Your group was lucky one of the members comes from a rich family that doesn’t mind spending some money to help you guys out—waiting until a company finds interest and asks to manage you.

The first month or so is rough so you all find part time jobs in the mean time. But regular jobs just don’t interest you so it takes you awhile to even apply for any… mostly getting fired after the first week or so because you end up showing late all the time.

You’re left wondering what to do when you come across a website of camboys and camgirls. Some of them show full nudity while others stay dressed for the most part.

It intrigues you enough but you don’t do it without running it through your members. They’re mostly shocked you even want to do that… but other than that, they just tell you to not speak and wear a mask.

Easy peasy. You chose a simple and almost silly name, “Shy Usagi” since your mask resembled a rabbit.

The first stream is awkward, you had to figure out a way to talk. Surprisingly, a few of the people that dropped in were intrigued by your refusal to talk. You had expected them to immediately want you naked but it seemed you attracted people that liked the teasing aspect of camboys.

Though you were 99% sure it was only men watching you. The first few weeks, you only wore skimpy clothing and did anything they requested. The most sexual thing you did was suck a dildo.

Occasionally you’d masturbate on live and that would always garner more attention. But there was always one person who would tip you no matter the stream.

“Hitachikoi”

You were sure he was probably an old man but you didn’t care, money was money. He knew how to flirt so you never felt weirded out with his attention.

Things were going reasonably well until after your group’s performance at a little festival. You had spilt away for a second to look around when you bumped into someone. He had his face covered with a mask and baseball cap.

You were going to apologize and go about your way when you caught that he was holding a poster of your group. He didn’t say anything as he simply held up a marker.

It took a second before you finally realized what he wanted. “Oh! Sure.” You were a bit excited, having never really signed anything before. Your signature was a bit messy but still legible.

“Here you go, thanks for coming to see us!”

“I only came to see you.”

“Hm?” You leaned in closer, wondering if you had heard him right. Only you?

The man let out a laugh as he reached up and pulled down his mask, leaning down so you could get a clear look at his face. “Mhm. Only you… (Name)… or ah,”

His hand reached up and cupped your face, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. It was only when he pulled off his cap that you got a good look at his face.

He… he wasn’t some random guy. He was a famous actor… a famous actor knew about you?

“Shy Usagi? It’s nice to see your entire face… that mask never hid your lips.”

You could stare as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. The only thing you were thinking of was if he was about to ruin your career before it even took off? But why would he care? Why was he even—

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. Someone like you isn’t made to think so hard,” he said, a slight frown on his lips. “I just, well I got tired of watching behind a screen. I wanted to touch you…”

His other hand moved to rest on your hip, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against your ear.

“To be inside of you instead of that dildo… I mean, I’m paying you so much money, it’s only fair I get to have you, right? Mhm? I can have you, yea? I’ve thought of fucking your mouth for days now.”

“(Name)! Where are you?”

He pulled away, rolling his eyes. You only watched as he slipped back on his mask and cap, pulling your shirt back down. “You’ll stream tonight.” He said, as if he was giving you an order, not asking.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Wear something red tonight… that’s my favorite color.”

With that he left you standing there, mouth agape just as one of your members walked over to you.

You… were so fucking screwed.

In more ways than one.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @secretivemessenger @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @tehyunnie @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @tomoeroi @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @love-kha1 @anchoredphoenix @yuzuukix @bensontrechic

I already made a face claim lol.



[cheralith]

my serendipity ₊˚⊹♡

— promise yourself to him, and he'll love you forever tenfold. or... the blue lock boys and their proposals to you.

starring ; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser content warnings ; gn!reader, reader wears a skirt (bachira), cursing (shidou/kaiser), reader wears a dress and heels (kaiser), lowk ooc shidou, mildly ooc kaiser, not fully edited as of 02/15 a/n ; happy late valentine's day everyone and a happy birthday to me hehe! i hope i'm not late by a mere day, but this is both my valentine's day event and my birthday gift from me to you all, so i hope that alongside this, you're surrounded by nothing but tender loving care amidst the season of love ( •◡-)-♡! there's also a collection of some of my favorite love songs i've added under each of the names that i think fit them/their scene, so take a listen for a more immersive experience, so enjoy!

— love, isagi yoichi.

The freshness of the meadow's air was an atmosphere you think you can breathe in forever, for it was so much more pristine and clear than the air you were used to in the city. The setting sun overviews the seaside town that you and your boyfriend took the pleasure of visiting as a treat for you both since he was currently off season and you decided to make the most out of what you could do. It was a scene straight out of a painting, you think to yourself, as yellows and oranges paint the sky overhead, a sliver of iris beginning to take over as twilight sets.

The little town below you hustles and bustles about, its townspeople fluttering over to wrap up the seemingly mundane day. You're a little envious that they get to see such a beautiful sight like this everyday and get to breathe in fresh air without the mayhem of cars and salarymen scattering themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in the cooling spring air of the meadow, letting yourself linger amidst the peaceful atmosphere of the countryside.

You'll miss this. The peace and placidity of a place like this. You dream of retiring to a cottage somewhere similar to here, somewhere where the grass is greener and the sky is bluer. You think it'd do you some good.

"I think some wine would pair well with your daydreaming," a voice says playfully.

Opening your eyes, you see your companion holding a bottle of wine in his hands, gentle eyes softening at your serenity. Yoichi is glad he brought you here, knowing that you needed a break from city life to just simply get away to the tranquility of the countryside. The change in you was more than evident—the stiffness in your body was long gone upon arrival and you were much more laxed when it came to last minute changes on the itinerary. It was rare he saw this side of you, so he savored it with every moment he was able to get.

Smiling gently at your boyfriend, you nod and let him pour two glasses of white wine into the glasses you and him had brought for this picnic.

"How're the sandwiches?" Yoichi asks, handing you your glass. "I bought them at this local diner nearby the hotel, so I hope they're okay."

"I really was never much of a bologna fan until now," you say as you pick up your half-eaten sandwich and hold it out for him to take a nibble. "It's a little salty, but I like it."

"I'm glad," he affirms through chews before he hums in approval. "Did you try the charcuterie board yet? This place is known for their cheeses."

You shake your head. Yoichi grins and eagerly begins to throw together a cheese-and-cracker creation, topped off with a bit of crumbled nuts. He gently cups his hand underneath the one holding the stack and motions for you to come forward.

Biting gently and letting his hand catch the crumbs, you giggle when you thoughtfully chew on the combinations as Yoichi throws the extra crumbs in his mouth to not let anything go to waste.

"Hey! This was pricey," he claims, "I'm sure half a cracker cost one hundred yen each..."

You fight the urge to spit out your food at his exaggeration. Yoichi may be a world class soccer player, with the mere mention of his name lighting peoples' faces with pride as the ace of one of Japan's soccer teams, but despite his hefty salary, there was still that semi-frugal middle class boy who still debated in buying a yogurt drink or ice cream whenever you and him stopped by a convenience store—never mind the fact that he could buy fifty of each in one sitting.

His humbleness, however, is what made you so drawn to him in the first place. He knew, you knew, and everyone knew of his great skill and play on the field, but in interviews, he was always one to scratch his neck and say "I just did what I could, really..." post-games. Yoichi never let the fame get to his head, and his ability to stay so grounded to earth made you filled with love solely for him and him alone.

The mix of the sweetness of the cheese and the saltiness of the cracker blend beautifully together on your tongue. You mimic his actions from before and give a hum and nod with approval at your boyfriend's taste.

There's a few other assortments of food that you and him have collected prior to the picnic—some fresh fruit you had bought and cut from the farmer's market, a small pasta bowl made by Yoichi himself, little quiches you had grabbed from one of the bakeries, and a strange white box that peeks itself out of the picnic basket that you have yet to open that was brought by Yoichi.

Gently clinking your glasses together, the wine that goes down your throat feels just as mellow as the atmosphere that hugs you and your boyfriend. Everything feels just so perfect right now, you could bathe yourself in such contentment.

Some conversations float by between you and Yoichi, breezy and effortless for sometime as the sun slowly sets itself into the mountains. Talks about work, about his recent plays (you laugh out loud whenever his anger gets the best of him and a short fuse of cusses spit out from him when he talks about specific players' plays, throwing a stray at one of his teammates), about the latest gossips, everything that just comes naturally to you. There was no need for a filter whenever Yoichi was with you. His judgement barely shone through when you were around.

He finishes the last of his wine rather quickly. Yoichi places it down gently and grabs your hands in his own. "I have a surprise for you."

A brow raises as your lips curl. "Oh?"

"Wait here, yeah?" Yoichi asks as grabs the picnic basket and places it in front of you. "I have to go grab something from the car. Why don't you prepare the cake in the meantime, hm? Maybe do some cleanup with the food, too, since it's getting late."

"Oh so that's what's inside the box," you murmur.

"Uh huh, I had it specially made for us," he says with a pinch of excitement in his voice. Yoichi gathers up a few of the plates and juts them in your hands, a wobbly smile upon his face as he gets up and dusts himself off, beginning to jog off in the direction of the parking lot. "I'll be right back!"

You blink at his hastiness, a little out of character for him, but shrug as you return back to your original position facing the coastal town and sunset. You're glad he tasked you with cleaning up the leftovers, since you've grown accustomed to Yoichi's occasional messiness and clumsiness when it came to handling food. There was one time during a friend's dinner party that he dropped the pot roast in front of everyone, meat going everywhere to Bachira's delight and to Barou's disdain. You also grow a little weary whenever he's around ceramic, since he's broken quite a few bowls and plates without much effort since Yoichi doesn't seem to have a grasp of his own strength whenever he washes the dishes.

You shake your head at the memories, quietly laughing to yourself when you remember Barou forcing him to mop his apartment floor from the remnants of the meat as a punishment. Barou still invites you over to his house during group events, but you often have to plead with him to invite your boyfriend, now used to the pulled face he makes or the curse of "Is the donkey really necessary to bring?" through the phone.

Tenderly, you open the picnic basket and carefully take out the white cake box to put it on the blanket. You go to prepare two plates together for the cake and take the cake cutter out of the basket, ready for slicing. Your fingers gently tug at the delicate silk ribbon right before you open the lid.

Your heart skips a beat.

It's a simple white vanilla cake shaped into a heart. Its framed with pale pink frosting on its side, as well as a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries placed in some places of the framing. But it's not the design of the cake that captures you.

It's what's written on it.

Four words written in delicate cursive so clearly and distinctly that it's hard to miss.

Will you marry me?

Your breath hitches as you read it with glazed eyes, your head whipping around to call Yoichi over, thinking perhaps he grabbed the wrong cake by accident from the cake shop, but your doubts suddenly dissipate when you're faced with Yoichi on one knee before you...

... with a velvet box in hand, a glimmering ring ready for you tucked carefully within it.

Words falter, and you can only stare at him in astonishment as he smiles at you, his lips still a little crooked in apprehension.

He bites his lip, grin growing a little wider as tears brim your eyes.

"Well?"

— with all my heart, bachira meguru.

"Meguru, that's cheating!"

"Since when where there rules to tag?!"

You huff in annoyance as your boyfriend hops off the railing of the staircase he just slid down from as his hand grazed your back to indicate you were "it" again.

You can feel some of the stares of the security guards that were left to babysit you and him as you dash your way down the staircase to chase after your boyfriend through the empty halls of the museum he had cleared out for you and him this evening. That's one of the many pros of being a professional soccer player—that anything can be bent at someone's will with a mere slide of stacks of cash. And Meguru had decided to use his own gain to entertain you and him.

By playing a game of tag between the two of you in amidst the massive art museum.

He claimed it was the perfect foundation for it; pillars to hide behind, a maze of rooms to obscure the tail that one may have on another, wide halls to run around in. For Bachira Meguru, this was the perfect battleground besides the turf of a soccer field. You suppose it also came from his early love of art due to his mother being a painter, with some of her collections even being shown for the season in one of the halls.

Anyone else of your ages would think such an activity was foolish. To an extent, yes, they were right. You and Meguru were both adults with adult responsibilities and adult lives... but you only live once and you and him lived by the philosophy to live it to the fullest. Childish whimsies came more often to you and your boyfriend, and that was the gravitational pull that drew you and him together to blossom a relationship filled with surprises and spontaneity. You felt unbelievably alive with him.

He'd call you in the middle of the night, asking you if you want to skinny dip in the nearby beach with him. He'd stop the car in the middle of a busy road as the view of an amusement park came closer, snatching your arm and tugging you out of it to run to its entrance. He'd show up at your door with concert tickets in hand unprompted, jutting one in your hand and telling you to get ready.

Bachira Meguru was a lightening bolt, sparking energy everywhere unsolicited. And you were more than happy to be struck over again and again if it meant you felt alive.

So now you're here. It's near midnight, and you're sure you and him have scattered almost all the interior terrain of the museum he cleared out in your game of tag that he brought up to you yesterday evening out of nowhere, telling you to dress nice, but to wear running shoes.

Meguru poked his head out from behind a wall that lead to the other room, giggling as you whip your head a few times to catch where he went before you spot his bright canary yellow eyes and run after him.

You weave through the plethora of statues that sprinkle about the corridor, sprinting after the flash of brown and yellow hair in front of you. It shouldn't be fair that you're currently chasing down a professional soccer player who clearly has the upper hand, but in all honesty, you think the challenge makes it all the more fun.

Stopping to catch your breath, you hunch down for a bit, gathering your skirt in your hands to reveal the worn-out running shoes you wear that contrast heavily to the outfit you're wearing as you collect your energy.

"Don't tell me you're tired already," Meguru sings out, his voice rather close.

You lift your head up to see your boyfriend standing just a few meters in front of you, leaning on a pillar of a statue with a cocky smile, arms crossed as if this was the easiest thing in the world. There wasn't even a sheen of sweat on his forehead, unlike your misted one. Your chest heaves for a few moments, and he watches anticipatingly as you collect yourself before you take a swipe at him.

Meguru jumps back just in time, laughter ringing out as you gather up your speed and sprint. You manage to turn a corner that's shared with the hallway he had just turned on and take a shortcut, waiting behind the open wall before you jump out and tap his shoulder.

"Gotcha," you grin as he gasps in delight and looks back at you, mischief ever so clear in his face.

You attempt to muffle your many fits of giggles when you come up with a plan to try and escape him. There's two choices that unfold before you—either you can run up the flight of stairs into the Greek artifacts or you can enter into the inner garden.

With not much time left, you can hear his quickening footsteps growing louder and louder, and you go for the latter.

Your feet carry you into the dark garden, making you squint your eyes to get a proper view of where you're going, but you see a sheen of light the closer you get to the center of it. Deciding that might be where the common area is, you quickly dart towards it but gasp when the entirety of it comes into full view.

Candles light up the middle area of the garden with rose petals sprinkled about the ground. A large balloon arch of white and gold arcs over what seems to be small semi-circle of little flower bouquets with a small white rug placed delicately in the middle of it all. There's two words that spell themselves out in blocky letter lights.

MARRY ME?

It takes you awhile to register the scene before you, your heart thrumming faster and faster each time you scan it.

"Aw man, you found it too early..." Meguru's voice sulks from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you yelp at your boyfriend's sudden appearance, making him grin. You think you need to take a pause from all the excitement you've been absorbed in for the past few hours, a new one being blossomed at this very moment.

There truly was never a dull moment with Bachira Meguru.

Wordlessly, his smile turns less playful and more tender when you can't find the words to say. He takes your hand in his own grasp and gently leads you to the scene before you, getting down on one knee and pulling out a small box from his back pocket.

"(L/N) (Y/N)," Meguru starts slowly, his voice displaying the utmost sincerety he's able to muster and possibly the most serious you've ever seen him. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me and being with me for the rest of our lives?"

With someone as special and as enigmatic as Meguru, it really doesn't take you much debating to choose your answer. Someone like this only comes once in a lifetime, and you decide to cherish it as much as you can in this one.

You only live once after all.

You nod, whispering a "Yes..."

Meguru's smile stretches wide before he shouts out in happiness, jumping in the air. You laugh loudly at his antics before he plucks out the ring and puts it on your finger, letting you admire it before sharing a loving kiss. The security guards that oversee the garden let out claps of celebration and a couple of shouts of approval, making you and him laugh at the accidental audience.

Meguru goes to wipe away a fallen tear from your cheek before kissing your forehead gently. He suddenly goes near your ear and whispers,

"This still means you're 'it', by the way."

— sincerely yours, itoshi rin.

Rin always thought he was meant to be alone.

His own parents tended more of their attention to Sae, and Sae himself left Rin to his own devices when Rin was only eleven, just barely hatching into puberty. Much of life Rin had to learn the harder way, where he had no forewarnings from anyone and he had to be taught his own lessons. It was his own self-discipline that got him through much of his younger years that made him so sustainable solely by his own foundations.

Even during games, he tended to lean on his own instincts on what he thought was best rather than relying on his teammates for the best play possible. If it were legible, Rin would've taken an opportunity to play 1v11 in a match since he carried the majority of his teams anyway with his prodigal skills.

He thrived best in an isolated environment anyway. And Rin felt okay with it. No person is forever anyways, not even his own blood.

Until you came along.

It was in his second year during college. It was you and your stupid owl keychain on your stupid backpack that accidentally let out your stupid second volume of Ciguatera right in front of him. It was the stupid way how his hands lingered on the book just a little more than he should've. It was the stupid way that his eyes always gravitated to you during lectures. It was the stupid way that you and him were assigned as partners for a project. It was the stupid way your eyes lit up when you found out he played soccer.

It was the stupid way he felt able to breathe the air much more comfortable around you the more he spent time with you. It was the stupid way the days felt duller when he didn't see you on campus. It was the stupid way his heart fluttered when you laughed, when you smiled, when you said his name.

It was all so... stupid.

A feeling he never felt before had been born from your existence. Itoshi Rin usually had a pretty solid grasp on things he could control, but he didn't know how to handle such a feeling of affection because he hadn't ever felt it before, and it felt too slippery to try and get a firm grip of. You shook his core, and Rin hated it because only one other person in his life was able to do such a thing.

Learning it was best to do so after his last lesson to keep himself safe, he attempted to push you away before his heart broke a second time. Yet somehow, Rin felt more drawn to your pull every time he tried to create space between you and him.

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Rin never really gave the feeling such thought in regards to you until he found himself dismal and in a grey area again without seeing your face at least once, but still ever so stubborn, he thought this was best. This is what he was used to—being alone.

"I don't have time for you anymore," he said to you one evening as he dropped you off at your dorm.

You had turned back to him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, but with a small smile still on your face. Without asking for a reason, you merely nodded. "I see. Well... goodbye then."

Rin tried to ignore the way his heart had clenched so tightly as he watched you disappear into your dorm hall without glancing back at him one more time.

But the lines blurred. It wasn't him being alone that he reclused himself to during your absence from his life... but rather loneliness. He was back to being lonely, not alone.

He had to go back to watching movies by himself, conversing with his own thoughts instead of another voice. He had to go back to eating meals by himself without having a foot nudge his own under a table. He had to go back and stop looking for a specific pair of bright eyes and a wishful smile in the stands during games.

He went back to a world of grey of his doing. All because he was terrified to let another person handle his own heart. And he was doing a good job at altering his life back to the way it was, until you did what you usually did best and butt in and splash color all over his monochromatic canvas again.

It was before an away game, in the common-area just before he boarded the coach bus. There, just before you turned the corner, he spotted you saying goodbye to someone, where you had accidentally made eye contact with turquoise eyes that seemed to shine for the first time in a long time at your appearance before him. He couldn't stop himself from staring, feeling relieved that you were still within his radius despite him being the one to create space.

You lingered there for a moment, before swallowing and mouthing to him with that stupid gentle, forgiving smile of yours,

"Good luck. Do well."

Rin sprinted off the bus the moment they were back on campus after winning by a landslide due to his off-the-wall playing. His feet carried him to your dorm, where he rapidly knocked on your door despite it being near midnight. You opened the door to him and despite hating it when people touched him, Rin had held you so tightly with hitched breaths, whispering "I'm sorry..." over and over again into your ear.

And came Itoshi Rin's first love, blossomed on a random Friday night.

His only love at that. He can't imagine the ring in his pocket being for anyone else.

A couple years older now, he walks alongside you on the beach that he used to ponder about whatnot on as he listens to you talk about the latest gossip at work. This is the rhythm of how your dynamic usually works—you talk, Rin listens. He likes it that way. It's an adequate balance.

The air is cooling now, now that autumn is approaching. You're huddled in a light jacket (Rin's, respectively), and gently warm your hands by rubbing them together to let the created friction emit some heat. Rin wordlessly grabs your hands and cups them together, embellishing a better warmth from his own breath instead of letting you do your own work.

Your eyes soften as you let him do his own antics, his own gaze coming to meet yours as his hands envelope yours and clasps them tightly to keep the heat trapped in your skin.

"Is that better?" he asks quietly, eyes looking for any sign of your approval.

You nod contently. "Mm hm."

"I told you to dress warm," he says, sighing, "next time, bring gloves."

You know Rin long enough to know such a tone of phrase isn't necessarily scolding you, but rather cautioning you out of genuine care. It wasn't his fault his voice had a natural cutting-edge tone, but you've grown accustomed to the little bits of adjustments he does to indicate he's not being cold.

The soft sand feels more pliable than usual. Perhaps it was the heavier layers you wear, but you find yourself sinking into it more easily. Rin helps stabilize you by gripping your hand in his own, noticing your imbalance.

"It's just a little further," he murmurs softly, a little shy when he squeezes your hand in his jacket pocket.

He was never able to quite fully get over his fluster around you. You made his head fill with cotton, his heart pound a little harder, whenever you were within his vicinity. Even after six years of being together as an official couple, he never was able to fully get over that high school crush feeling. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe it was meant to be that way. It was probably life's way of telling him that you were made to last for him, as only you were able to emit such a feeling for him when no one else could.

They say the average relationship lasts two years and three months. Yet somehow, Rin has never gotten over the feeling of falling in love with you since the moment he spotted you for the first time during a home game. It's been six years and ten months since that incident, and he figures that if such a feeling hasn't expired yet, it might never will.

The trail of candles suddenly appear before you to your surprise. The sand trail that it frames is the only part of the beach that is untouched by feet, as though it was waiting for you to imprint on it. On the other side of the trail lies a half-circular structure of individual white roses, all standing up right from the sand, along with blanket and a basket of wine and chocolates.

"Oh my," you mumble quietly, clearly taken aback at the rather romantic scene. While your boyfriend always did the most when it came to your dates, this was another level of sentimental. Be it the isolation from other people on the beach or the sunset horizon in the background, you feel a wave of solitude when Rin trails you down the path.

"This is rather new," you say to him suddenly, your eyes wide with worry. "Um, I didn't forget something big, did I? We celebrated your birthday... our anniversary isn't for another month..." you count down all the possible major events that you and Rin celebrated together as a couple on your fingers, but Rin shakes his head.

"No," he interjects. "This... i-is something completely different."

You blink owlishly and tilt your head, leaning your face closer to examine your boyfriend's blushed cheeks.

"Oh, are you proposing?" you ask inquisitively with a sparking coy smile, as if it was the plainest thing in the world.

Rin tends to be rather flat with his emotions, but he can't help but gawk when you guess correctly. He supposes his reaction gives his plans away, since you burst out laughing when a choked noise comes out of his throat.

"So I'm correct?" you ask through giggles.

"How'd you know?!" Rin asks, his blush now spreading rapidly on his face, the back of his neck absolutely burning with heat. Upset that all the plans he kept repeating to himself for the entire last three days was suddenly disrupted by you picking up context clues, he feels his ego crumbling before you, going back to square one where he'd feel that familiar flutter in his chest.

"Meguru told me a week ago when we all went to that one bar," you mention. "He had a little too much to drink and ended up accidentally spilling the beans."

A vein pops on Rin's forehead with avid irritation, jaw gritting as the phantom of a familiar bob-cut throws a peace sign in his mind. This is what's bound to happen when Rin asks for help on a major life event from the one person that can't keep his mouth shut even with a gun to his temple. But Bachira was the only person in the friend group that had been married so far to who was essentially his twin flame, meaning he was ultimately the last resort.

Rin thinks that he should've just asked someone on the street instead, now that it's clear his decision went awry.

Stupid shitty, fucking lukewarm bob-cut... Rin curses in his mind, a fire burning behind his eyes. Next time I see him, I'll—

"My answer is 'yes', by the way, Rin."

Rin's violent daydreams are suddenly broken when your voice cuts through. Your sweet, supple voice that's able to calm him down just by the sound of his name falling from his lips. Your superpower, he thinks.

He suddenly loosens his fist that he was making in his hand and looks at you. Clear, smiling eyes gaze at his wide ones with affirmation so distinctly held within them. All the tension he had been feeling up until this very moment instantaneously dissolves, running through his now-loosened fist like sand from the beach you and him are posted on.

He wants to grab your face and kiss you with as much strength he can muster. Wants to whisper sweet nothings and loving promises into lips he's tasted over and over again, yet just can't get enough of. Wants to hold you so tightly in his arms to the point where you meld into each other.

But, nevertheless, he holds himself back. There's still something he has to do.

"At least let me say the damn thing first," he mutters and finally gets down on one knee, his gaze never faltering against yours.

You giggle, nodding and letting him take one of your hands as his unoccupied one goes to fetch the ring box from his back pocket.

Rin was, and still is, not a man of many words. He says what he needs to say the moment he needs to say them. He feels as though he can't waste his time on incessant words, but this time, he feels as though four words can carry all the meaning he needs to convey.

He swallows thickly, presenting a luscious, glimmering ring at you, noticing the way your eyes become hypnotized with the specialized gem settled in the middle of the band.

"(Y/N)," Rin states, smoothing over your precious ring finger. "Will you marry me?

— forever yours, shidou ryusei.

"Ryu, you're gonna get another ticket!" you yell out through the helmet as the motorcycle's speedometer's needle rapidly ticks up. Your arms wrap securely around his waist as he laughs off your concern, his grip on the handles tightening when he squeezes the throttle grip.

You know Ryusei loves to live life to its fullest—its the core of his way of living life. He's irrational and explosive, impulsive and eccentric. Anything that makes him tick is what captures his full attention.

Unfortunately for you, your complete opposite behaviors is uniquely what made him so magnetized by you. Unlike Ryusei, who tends to stand out wildly in a crowd, be it his unconventional haircut or his obnoxious thoughts that he just can't keep to himself, you're demure and quiet. You keep to yourself at all times and you think that you're quite plain-looking. You don't sport wild hair or scattered piercings, nor do you remove your filter and say what you want to say, so you don't understand how someone like you have a spotlight in Ryusei's mind.

But you do, somehow. And you don't think that he's too intent on shifting it to anyone else soon.

So now you're here. It's eleven at night with an near-empty highway before you, backpacking your boyfriend that your parents heavily disapprove of in the middle of the night because he snatched you up from your apartment and told you to follow him. He tossed you his spare helmet for his motorcycle and off you and him drove into the night.

You should've known better, you really should've, considering it was Ryusei after all that you were dealing with. He'll do anything that his mind tells him to without thinking of the consequences. You can't think of another person in the world who has little to no judgement about his actions.

"Don't worry 'bout it, dolly!" he guffaws from his helmet. He lurches forward and you squeal when the motorcycle's speed suddenly jumps. "You know I'd never hurt ya!"

You very much want to protest against his claim, considering he's forced you to tag along with extreme experiences that have put you scraping at Death's door, but every time, Ryusei always tugs you back to reality, to him. Because your his before anyone else's, even the Reaper himself.

"Where are we even going?!" you ask out loud, trying to leer over his shoulder for any sort of familiar direction. To no avail, you're only met with the empty road of the highway, only lit by the streetlights. "I have a meeting really early tomorrow!"

"Fuck your meeting!" Ryusei hollers, giving another one of those joker-like laughs. "Fuck your job in general, but fuck your meeting specifically!"

You know Ryusei's hatred for your corporate job. Blame it on him hating the mundane or how you rant to him about your trashy bosses, he keeps telling you to ditch the position over and over again, even asking you if you quit every time you bring it up. You know that it's just him trying to be a good boyfriend, but when you try to bring up the fact that the job market for your skills is trash, he only shrugs and just tells you why even bother with working. His salary as a soccer player is more than enough to cover you and him.

"That doesn't answer my question!" you shout back through the loud roaring of the motorcycle's engine. "Where are we going?!"

"You'll see! You need to trust me!" he yells from over his shoulder. You can see those rows of menacing pearly whites from the shaded visor and your stomach stirs a little. From excitement or anxiety, that was up to fate to decide. You've placed your trust in Ryusei's hands a plethora of time and you still haven't gotten a good grasp of its pattern of consequences.

You merely sigh in defeat, placing your chin on his shoulder and placing your whims at his hands, letting him take reign of your late-night journey.

From a desolate parking lot, he introduces you to a lone hill, where a wooden staircase at the bottom of it waits for you and him to carry you to the top of it. It's rather a rough journey, with you counting a total of eleven flights of stairs that you have to take up in the dead of night where you were wringed out of all the energy you had from the day. Ryusei wastes no time, leaping through the first three with no problem. He waits for you as you heave through them at your own pace, your legs already starting to turn numb.

"Took you long enough," Ryusei remarks, not even waiting for a reply from you before he begins to climb another three.

By the time you've reached the sixth flight, he's already done with all of them to your discontent. He calls for you to hurry up from atop the stairs and you flicker back a frustrated middle finger back at him, to which he only answers back with an obnoxious laugh.

"Oop, watch your step, doll," he cautions as he catches you last minute before you face-plant on the floor when you trip on your last stair, your legs shaky from the exhaustion. "What took you so long?" he asks tauntingly.

You shove him off of you, deciding it was better to lean on a tree. "Screw you..."

"Mmh, you can do that later, if you'd like," he murmurs flirtatiously in your ear, laughing viciously as you swat at him. He lets you catch your breath before tugging at your sleeve and telling you to hurry. "Your surprise is waiting, c'mon."

Leave it to Shidou Ryusei to plan something spontaneous in the dead of the night. It was unfortunately very like him to do something as erratic as this, and you just hope whatever he has in store doesn't involve you facing a near-death experience like the one time he brought you bungee-jumping straight after work.

Yawning, you nod and follow him with fatigued limbs. It takes your tired eyes a little while to adjust to what Ryusei is pointing at, but the heaviness disappears the moment you understand why he brought you here so late.

The hill somehow overviews nearly all of the city and the lights it gleams out into the night. Your breath catches itself in your throat as you take in the glorious sight of the stars in the sky and the array of lights that dance about the city's skyline. The taller skyscrapers in the background loom over the rest of the city like guardians and the cars of the cars make them look like little fairies dancing about.

It's a gorgeous view that you knew you would've never seen if it weren't for the interference in your normally-mundane life that is Shidou Ryusei.

A pair of arms goes to wrap themselves around your waist and bring you closer to a chest. Ryusei settles himself nicely in the divot between your shoulder and neck, inhaling a bit of your leftover perfume. "You like?"

You nod, eyes taking in the breathtaking view in full depth, scanning every inch that your field of vision lets you see. "Yes," you breathe.

"Good," he mutters, "Discovered this place randomly a few weeks ago after a post-celebration. I thought you might like it."

"It's gorgeous, Ryu," you warmly whisper, your heart melting a little at his consideration.

In any frontal aspect, no one would expect the Shidou Ryusei to be in a relationship, let alone be good at handling one. But after being with him for quite awhile, with your third anniversary coming up soon, you found a side to him that would be deemed almost unnatural to the unsuspecting eye. Underneath those layers of brashness, you were able to find a softer side of him, one that'd only be revealed to you and you alone.

Sure, there were times when his usual image would shine through when you were with him, most prominent when there were others around that were eyeing you ("Take a look this way and I'll bust your head in, bud!" he had shouted with a wicked smile to a passerby one time that looked at you with just the slightest bit too much of intent), but behind closed doors, a tenderness revealed itself dedicated for you.

Because in all honesty—Ryusei was a good boyfriend. Audacious and obnoxious, sure, but good. There was a reason why your relationship has lasted this long, after all. He'd come at your beck and call when you needed him most with no questions asked. He'd offer you advice whenever you complained about something, knowing that you didn't really care about sympathy. He always remembered important dates, even the miniscule ones like what date the new season of your favorite show released just so he can watch it with you.

That layer that only you got to see was the prime reason as to why you returned his affection in equal fervor.

You begin to feel his lips peppering a small path up the side of the neck, letting out a brief yelp when you feel his sharp teeth graze the lobe of your ear. You can feel him grin against your skin.

"You wanna elope with me, doll?" he asks suddenly.

Spine stiffening, you look at him from the side of your now-widened eyes. "Huh?"

"You heard me," he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it doesn't bother him. And it probably doesn't, knowing that he'll always have a way out eventually to get what he wants.

"I—" you start, your words suddenly knotting in your throat. "Ryu... that's a big decision."

"Well duh!" he exclaims. "That's the point! We gotta make it dramatic as possible. That's the whole fun of it."

"Are you only asking me to do this just so you can get some weird spark of adrenaline?" you ask, brows furrowing in anticipation.

Ryusei snorts. "You think that lowly of me? Hell no. I wanna marry you, for real. It's just..." For the first time since you've known him... you hear Shidou Ryusei falter. His head hunches a bit, a frown forming itself on his lips.

"Your parents will never approve of me, we both know that," he says, his grip around you tightening as though you'd slip away from him at any moment. "I'd never get their blessing."

Your eyes soften a bit as he stares intently at the view in front of you. The way his voice goes so quiet confirms the genuineness behind his words and you know what he says about your parents is true. Yes, he loves you and yes, he'll be able to provide for you, but when your parents learned about his reputation on the field as a soccer player, they exactly weren't the most pleased to know that your boyfriend was willing to start fights with whoever dared to cross him.

But... despite it all, despite all the headlines and the rumors, Shidou Ryusei was still yours. You still held him close despite all the challenges that came your way just for being at his side. It was that singular layer of himself that he'd unsheathe just for you to let you know that you mattered to him just as much as soccer did. While the questions of why were still left unanswered, since as much as you knew him, Ryusei was still an enigma to you, his actions spoke loud and true. Reckless as he was, at the end of the day, he was so, so good to you.

Sure, you could also get such loving from some plucky nobody on the street, but Ryusei's form of love was different. It was vibrant, avid with colors and explosions of life, you don't think another person could dare paint themselves in the colors of Shidou Ryusei.

You could go about your mundane life. Settle down with someone that was just as enticing as you were, have a family, keep working at your corporate job, retire peacefully...

... but truly, where was the fun in that?

You don't think you can live life in that manner after meeting Ryusei. You don't think you should.

"... are you really serious about this?" you mutter softly. "Do you really intend on marrying me?"

Ryusei cocks a brow, as if you've just asked him if the sky is blue. "No shit I do. You think all those times me screaming 'This one's for you' right before I score a goal were for nothing?"

You sigh with a smile, memories of playbacks of your boyfriend shrieking out your name on the field when the ball lands in the net running through your mind and how you had to hide your face at times in embarrassment when he pointed a painted fingernail in your direction in the VIP section.

"Do you swear you'll treat me well?" you ask as your hand finds its way to his own.

Ryusei interlocks his fingers with yours. "When have I not?"

Your heart squeezes. "And do you swear that you'll love me forever?"

You can just hear the smirk in his voice. Suddenly, he removes his hands and repositions them on your waist, your feet suddenly not being rooted to the ground anymore.

"'Till death to us part, sweetness!" he shouts, twirling you around with his strength.

You yell at him to put you down, fists going to hit his arms as he nears the edge of the fencepost. "Okay, okay, I get it! Ryu, I'll fall—Christ, Ryusei put me down! I'll marry you, just put me down!"

Eventually, he does and his laughter dies down. Suddenly, your cheeks are being squished and your lips meet his in a semi-violent manner, teeth nearly clashing as Ryusei kisses you hard and passionately.

He holds you there for a minute, tasting your lips over and over again with his before he breaks apart from you and gives you a wide grin, smirking at your flustered breathlessness.

"Call off work," he says, giving a wet kiss on your forehead. "We're going ring shopping tomorrow first thing."

— promisingly yours, michael kaiser.

"I hate you."

... is what Kaiser said to you out of the blue one day, completely unprompted. You were standing at the entrance of his apartment, some food for him in hand, your journey to travel to his abode ending on a rather oddly sour note.

Despite the fact that it was him that asked you to come over to "hang out" at his place while he was off-season, Kaiser wanted to push you away, to get you as far away from him as possible. He could no longer stand to look at your face without his gut churning and his head spinning. Similar in the way that he'd watch his opponent score a goal during a high-intensity game, something about your presence made him feel queasy, as though there were a storm brewing up inside of him.

It wasn't always this way, which was the weird part. Or perhaps, for a better wording, wasn't always this intense. You and him had been friends since childhood, after he wandered into your father's bakery with the intent to steal to survive. You had graciously given him some spare bread rolls and told him that you'll see him later, in which his return to your father's bakery had bloomed a friendship. Leave it to the neighborhood baker's kid to befriend even the oddest of children, even the one that had a scrappy jersey and bruised knees with a busted lip that would send warning signs to most children. But no, you had to come in and swoop Kaiser into your life like the saint you were.

The problem is that Kaiser didn't know how a sickening feeling like this developed. Was it when you had baked him a small cake for one of his birthdays? Or perhaps when you started showing up to his soccer games to support him? He didn't know and that's what pissed him off—that he didn't have a definite answer to when this feeling started. He let go of that irritation quickly, however, choosing to dwell on the present and future instead of the past since he knew he couldn't change it even if he did have a framework of when. It wasn't like he could go back into the past and stop this horrid feeling from being born.

It was swiftly replaced instead by an annoyance of some kind. He'd get a tugging feeling at his chest whenever you smiled at him or whenever your hands would brush against his. His head would start to spin whenever you were near him, your perfume mingling in the air. The older you and him grew, the more intense such a feeling became and it became a more avid distraction as the years passed.

Like the time you had been sick and missed out on an extremely important match that would bring him to the German World Cup. He remembers seeing the empty seat he reserved for you and how he kept looking back at it during each play. He'd score a goal in a miraculous play and would whip his head around to see if you witnessed him in such a glory, but then a frustration would stir up within him at the air that lingered in your seat. He remembers being more destructive on the field that day.

Or perhaps the time he had taken you on a trip abroad to New York, just you and him, where amidst all the sparkling billboards, one of his own sponsored by Adidas posted on the Times Tower, Kaiser's handsome face overseeing the business of Times Square. It was hard not to miss, if anything, and he got upset that you only complimented it with a mere "That's so cool!" as though the man standing right next to you wasn't the face for one of the top soccer teams in the world.

Or when poor Ness had to witness him throw a tantrum in his apartment when you texted him that you had to cancel plans since you were going on a date one evening. Plates and glassware were broken, Kaiser's nails going to rip some of the canvases of the paintings that were hung up on the wall.

"A date?! A motherfucking date?! What the hell?!" he had shouted as another plate made contact with the wall, shattering it into pieces. "(Y/N) doesn't go on dates?! What the fuck is this!"

In his fit of fury, thoughts of all kinds had raced through his mind, and Ness had to use all of his strength to make sure Kaiser didn't hunt to the poor soul that you had a date with down. Thankfully, you had called him later that night and asked to go to his place, telling him your date had stood you up.

Ness had never seen Kaiser more serene after he ended the call with you, a content smile on his face despite the destruction around him.

Either way, you made Kaiser's body weaker with just the presence of you around him. And nothing made Kaiser hate himself more than feeling weak, hating how he was reduced that small child on the kitchen counter, staring up helplessly at a monster that he was half-created from. Your very essence made his core tighten and a heat bloom all over his cheeks, something that sickened him.

So he hates you. He hates you unbelievably so much for being able to bring him to his knees so pathetically, begging for your attention and your care. A twisted sense of shame would linger to him whenever he was reminded of your existence—as though you were his kryptonite.

He thinks this is the worse it's ever been—now that you and him are fully grown adults where maturity has blossomed something within you. You look more beautiful than usual lately, Kaiser notices. You're more confident and headstrong, your wit a little quicker. An aura of radiance seems to glimmer from you and you just have this magnetic pull that attracts many people toward your direction.

In a sinister sense, Kaiser wants to keep you all to himself. Wants to keep you trapped in his hold and keep you caged so he can admire you alone, away from prying eyes that might have similar intentions. No one should deserve to have such a beauty in their life, let alone gaze upon it. He's God's chosen emperor, only he should be allowed to have such a pretty, loving thing at his side.

But he can't obviously. You wouldn't be okay with it. And as much as Kaiser takes great pleasure in seeing faces of despair and misery from those he wants to bring down, he doesn't like it when you get upset at him. Loathes it, even, when you disapprove of something he does.

He hates you for making him so vulnerable, for showing him a side of himself that he doesn't want to acknowledge.

You blink blankly at his irritated face, raising a brow at such a statement.

But you nonchalantly shrug, used to Kaiser's peculiar behavior. Surely something from earlier must've pissed him off, which is why you leapt to your feet when he essentially commanded you to come over.

"Whatever man," you sigh, shoving your way through into his apartment without a care in the world. "Tell me something new for a change."

Kaiser opens his mouth to respond, brows furrowed, and ready to tell you to piss off and get the hell out, not wanting to be around you any longer, but words dissolve on his tongue when he watches you whistle a tune and unpack the package of food you bought along the way on the kitchen island. It's an oddly domestic scene.

You hold up a plastic container, its contents making Kaiser's eye grow wider.

"Look," you cheer, opening up and holding a stick of seasoned bread crust. "Even got your favorite!"

He swallows thickly, feeling that weakness come to his knees again when you give that dazzling smile of yours. Call him a masochist, but even though Kaiser hates the way you make him feel like this, he can't help but savor it.

So he's here now. A few years later, on the rooftop of an ancient Parisian building with a white carpet before him as he stands on end of a white carpet. The other side of it, the elevator to the rooftop.

Blue rose petals that mimic the tattoo on his neck scatter the area with a flower arch stretching over the small stage he's on. The Eiffel Tower oversees the entirety of Paris, its lights glowing amidst the evening sky. The breeze is just perfect, Kaiser just hopes everything else will go according to plan as he stares intently at the elevator.

"Ness, it feels a little tight..." you mutter, trying to tug at the blindfold that covers your eyes.

"But you can't see anything, right?" Ness asks as his grip on your shoulders stays firm.

"No, but—"

"Good!" he retorts happily. "Don't worry, we've only got a few more floors to go."

Your lips warble. You feel as though this is somehow a weird murder set up Ness has planned for you, possibly waiting for the right moment to just shove you off the building while you weren't able to see. He always did happen to hold a small grudge against you, after all, since he had to practically fight for Kaiser's attention whereas you got it so naturally.

"Where's Micha?" you ask as the floors continue to ding out from inside of the elevator.

"Somewhere," Ness singsongs out, making the feeling in your gut churn.

You stay quiet, trying to think of an escape plan to get yourself out of this mess, but suddenly you hear the elevator doors shift and feel a cool breeze.

"Watch your step now," he says from behind you, lighting pushing you forward while making sure your heel didn't get caught in the little gap of the elevator and its doors. He promised that Kaiser that everything about tonight had to go right, and if he dared to mess up anything, Kaiser would have his head. So Ness, ten times more attentive than usual, gently leads you out of the elevator and onto the rooftop.

"Where are we?" you ask him, your head turning around rapidly to try and examine your surroundings despite the black blindfold. " Are we outside?"

"Leave us be, Ness," a familiar voice says.

The heavy feeling on your chest suddenly lifts, letting you breathe a little easier now that you know that your life has been spared from Ness's hands. Kaiser's voice, though it may bring impending doom to many, somehow had the ability to ease you and your worries.

Ness goes to unravel the blindfold from your eyes, letting the warm glow of the many candles before you light up your field of vision. He leaves promptly, going back down the elevator and leaving you alone with the blurry figure some meters before you. Your vision clears eventually, and the scene unfurls before you much more vividly.

There stands Kaiser at the end of a magnificent carpet that tells you to come his way, dressed in a dark blue button up and black slacks with matching dress shoes. Ever the handsome fellow, you softly smile at him as you walk slowly down the carpet, never breaking eye contact with him.

It was good to make you wear white for tonight, Kaiser thinks to himself as he gets hypnotized by the way your dress flows behind you. This almost feels like practice to what's to come.

"This doesn't look like a dinner," you say softly as you take Kaiser's hand to help you up the platform.

"No, but it's something much better," he replies, a tightness in his voice that he tries to hide. "I hope."

"You hope?" you repeat, brow raising.

"It's all going to depend on you, so don't ruin it for the both of us," Kaiser grumbles before you snort out a laugh.

Getting a hint of what's to come, you allow him to take your hand and watch as he gets down on one knee before you.

Kaiser strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly, all the while gazing at you.

"You're the only person that's able to bring me to my knees, you know that?" he professes quietly.

You can feel a hitch in your throat when you nod, a heat forming on your cheeks.

Kaiser pauses for a bit before continuing. "I hate you. You know."

"Yes," you sigh gently, thinking about all the times that Kaiser spewed out the words whenever he got annoyed with you. "You make it very aware."

He chuckles, and you can't help but laugh as well.

"But I hate you for a good reason. You make me weak, you make my head spin with every action you do, with every word you say," continues Kaiser eventually. "You know me better than I know myself. And I don't know whether it's been in each other's lives for so long or... or if I just get so vulnerable around you."

You bite your lip in apprehension, trying to regulate your breathing as the words just flow from Kaiser's lips as he pulls out a white ring box from his pocket.

"I want to feel that way around you forever, even if it might kill me," Kaiser declares. He slowly opens the ring box to reveal a handcrafted ring that glimmers with a large sapphire gem in the middle whose blue hue reminds you of someone all the familiar. "I want you to keep making me feel so stupidly small, to keep putting me in my place when I need it. And I want to relish in it forever, just as long as its you. I want you all to myself, because only you, (Y/N) (L/N), can do this to me."

"Micha," you choke out his nickname with a voice just slightly above a whisper. The way he looks at you so dearly makes you want to burst into tears. You don't think anyone else has ever looked in your direction is such an adoring way.

Kaiser takes a deep breath, his nerves easing themselves to a balance as he swallows his concern away, letting himself linger in the moment.

"Will you marry me?" he asks you tenderly.

He thinks that the tears that cascade down your perfect face gives him all the answer he needs, but his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when you whisper back,

"... yes."

a/n ; ITS DONE !!!! oooohhh i'm so tired asdfllksadfk my ass hurts from all the sitting

but hi if you've made it this far! im thinking of making a part two to this with a couple of more characters, but wow i will not lie this took some life out of me lolol but regardless! thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are always noticed and appreciated (っ´ω`c)♡ !!

[sassystyl]

"Do you know know how to turn into a duckling if you can do it fast." I go inside and open the door. "Well hello gentle men What brings you to my humble abode this wonderful evening?" "We have reason to believe that a little witch ran into your property." I act shocked holding up a hand to my my " A witch? RAN HER?!" "Yess and we would like to take a look around." "Sure come in." They look around the house then went into the yard I hope the young child knew how to turn. We heard a sound from the shed and opened the door. There she was a little duckling swimming in the sink trying to act normal. s that a duck" One of the guards asked. "Yes and her name is Josephine and I was in the middle of giving her a bath when you came by." "Sorry about that, if you see the witch don't be afraid to report it there's a hefty reward out for her capture." They hand me the wanted paper "Ah thank you i'll keep that in mind." I wave the guards good bye and breath a sigh of relief when I closed. I head back to the shed seeing that the little witch was no where to be seen. "You can come out now it's safe." She stayed hidden for a minute then slowly waddled out. SOO CUte. "I can't guarantee they won't come back but do you want to stay for dinner until we can find your home." She waddled up to me. "Also you don't need to stay in that form you can change back now." But it seems the little witch doesn't know how to. This might be harder than I thought.

"P-please. Don't let them take me…" A witch, a young girl pleaded as she hides in your shed. You see the fear in her eyes as you hear the armored footsteps of the inquisition approached your home. Your heart thumps. They don't take heretics lightly nor one that shields them from their hold.

[fawnfemmes]

Sevika x chubby reader where the reader is a councilor. They make eyes during meetings where Sevika looks the reader up and down. Sevika flirts with reader right after until they have to leave. This keeps happening for a few meetings until reader shows up in a more showy outfit just to show off for Sevika. She resists ending the meeting early just to get to reader sooner. After, a different (male?) councilor gets to reader first, he attempts flirting with the reader and Sevika ofc pushes aside the guy and probably insults him for speaking to reader lmao and I was picturing this ending with Sevika and reader waiting until everyone leaves (or sevika telling everyone to get out) and having ✨intimacy✨ in the councilor room. But you can end it differently ofc. This is just a dabble tbh, just an idea that came to mind once I saw your post about it. Hope this sparks some inspiration!

୨so… what now?୧

councillor!sevika X f!councillor!reader

🏷️: lesbian sex, porn with a side of plot, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), semi-public sex, reader is chubby, pet names used, stone top sevika, no beta we die like men

🦌:tysm for this angel.. I was half asleep when i wrote this so it might not be very good. Idk. i hope it’s okay & I’m sorry it took so long to answer!! it’s short but that’s cause i scrapped it a few times. i left it how it was for posting cause i didn’t wanna force myself to write and then have it be awful 😔

when sevika became a councillor, she’d expected to spend all her time with selfish rich people who aren’t concerned for anything but their own causes. what she hadn’t expected was you.

sure, you were a filthy rich piltie, but you used that money for things other than yourself. you lived luxuriously but you spent the money you didn’t use to help people. and you were the only councillor, apart from her, to argue that zaun deserves equal attention to piltover.

immediately she was enamoured with you. it also helped that you were utterly breathtaking— soft and feminine, yet tantalisingly sexy. and after your first conversation, in which she almost went insane after you fawned over her prosthetic arm, she noticed you tended to float towards her a whole lot more.

you made eyes at her constantly, which she more than gladly returned, and most of your post-meeting conversations were simply the two of you flirting back and forth until somebody called you away for whatever the reason.

another thing she noticed was that your clothing changed. you’d always been feminine. but she noticed that since your first conversation you gradually wore.. less clothing? of course, you weren’t crossing the boundary of indecent exposure, but the slits in your dresses gradually crawled up your thighs day by day, and the necklines creeped lower. on occasion, sevika would notice you leaning forward in your seat diagonally from hers, just enough to give her a glimpse of your décolletage.

and naturally, it wasn’t only sevika that noticed this. there was another councillor who’d taken a liking to you. and being the lovely person you were, you’d laughed politely at his attempts to flirt with you and had returned the same energy— only your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes like it did with sevika, your voice never had the same airy tone. it did stroke her ego a little, but that didn’t mean the situation didn’t piss her off.

after a particularly stressful meeting, sevika was already on edge. when she saw you and aforementioned councillor talking. except he had you much closer this time, and you didn’t seem particularly thrilled. so, she intervened.

after a swift argument and sevika having to resist the urge to punch things, the two of you had been left alone.

it hadn’t been difficult, getting her this riled up. the second that councillor had left she’d burst into this spiel about how you make her feel, how unbearable she finds it having to look at you in those damn clothes and not be able to fuck the living daylights out of you all the time. and all you could do was laugh at her, pulling her in to kiss her gently, pulling her hand to your waist.

which is how you found yourself in this situation. sevika on her knees in front of you, her beautifully carved nose bumping against your clit while she murmurs sweet words into your cunt. her hands gripping at the fat of your thighs, steel eyes meeting yours as your eyelids flutter.

“sevika- at least give me a break- fuck!,” you grip at her hair gently, hips moving against her face as she looks up at you, steel eyes glittering as she looks at your plum red face. she grins cockily at you before continuing, somehow even faster.

it’s impressive to you, how long she’s been doing this. you think it might be crossing the half hour mark, and you’ve already cum twice. you had offered to return the favour but she declined plainly, and you weren’t about to complain.

she stays buried between the fat of your thighs for long enough that you think the bones in your legs are melting, and when she finally comes up for air she seems immensely proud of herself.

after promptly cleaning you up and escorting you back to your place, sevika pauses outside your door and rests a hand on the small of your back. she looks so reluctant to leave that you just laugh, pulling her into your house and immediately wrapping your arms around her neck. she laughs, voice shaky when she speaks.

“so, uhm… what now?”

long story short, you end the night sweaty and bare in your bed, talking about your lives and pasts after the realisation that you don’t really know each other— well, didn’t. you do now, and you think you might love sevika now you do.

[fangdokja]

How about a yandere boyfriend on Valentine's Day? Where he wraps a gift to give to his sweetheart himself.

The perfect Valentine’s present: something personal, thoughtful, and won’t scream anymore.

♡ Yan-Apocalypse x Fem. Reader. Boss, Neighbor, Torture Professional, Loner

♡ Word Count. 3,407

♡ Yandere! Boss who has been a pain in your ass since childhood. You hated him back then, and you hate him now, except now he owns your ass as your boss in this wretched hellscape called the apocalypse. A born leader, an absolute slave driver, and the only man who could turn the end of the world into a business opportunity. He should've died with the rest of humanity, but no, he somehow made it out alive—alongside you. Lucky you.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who never let you live in peace even before the world went to shit. The kind of guy who would slip notes under your door just to remind you he existed. The guy who had the audacity to work in a cafe with a sickeningly charming smile despite making your life a waking nightmare. And now, even with society collapsed, he still finds ways to piss you off. He calls it love. You call it suffering. Turns out he was also a serial killer before all this. Should've seen that one coming.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who you used to think was just a weird but tolerable coworker. You considered him an older brother. He considered you his most entertaining toy. Now that the world has no laws, he's free to indulge in whatever twisted desires he kept hidden before. The worst part? He still acts like he's just your friendly workplace senior. Smiles and all.

♡ Yandere! Loner who is the only reason you haven't starved to death yet. Pays the rent. Handles all the outside world bullshit. Does all the talking for you because you'd rather die than interact with people. A true blessing in your hermit lifestyle, except for the small problem that he's hopelessly obsessed with you. A punk goth with a brooding air and a quiet intensity that makes your skin crawl. But if you had to pick a single tolerable person on the planet, it’d probably be him. That’s a low bar.

────────────

You, unfortunate recluse and apocalypse prepper, who told everyone this shit would happen.

They laughed at you. Laughed.

"A zombie apocalypse? Aliens? Nuclear fallout? Society crumbling overnight? Sure thing, basement dweller. Maybe you should go touch some grass."

Well, guess who's laughing now? Not them. Because they're dead.

The world didn't end in the way you expected. No rotting undead. No UFOs in the sky. No nuclear war or artificial intelligence takeover. No, what came was far worse. A virus, slow-acting, like a whisper through the bloodstream. It didn't kill outright. It awakened.

People started changing. Not into monsters, not physically. But mentally? The virus stripped them of the one thing keeping them from turning into beasts: morality. Empathy. Restraint. The very things that made human beings function in a civilized society.

Because love? Love was a sickness.

No, literally. Scientists called it the Eros Virus, but people online had a better name for it: the Yandere Plague. Something about brain chemistry short-circuiting. Something about possessiveness going haywire, loyalty turning to violence, and rational thought being replaced with "If I can’t have you, no one can."

Anyone infected didn’t just crave affection—they needed it, like oxygen, like water, like a reason to live. Love wasn’t an emotion anymore; it was hunger. A sickness that turned even the kindest souls into unrecognizable demons with one singular goal: claim, possess, devour.

They became killers for love.

Murderers in the name of devotion.

And you, the reclusive scientist, the unfeeling shut-in, the paranoid "loser" who had wasted her life avoiding people—

You were, somehow, the most normal person left.

Wasn't that hilarious?

It wasn’t the apocalypse you prepared for, but you adapted fast.

Because you had already prepared for everything.

Society? A joke. Socializing? A waste of time. Going outside? You’d rather gouge out your own eyes. What was the point? Every moment spent dealing with another human being was a moment spent losing brain cells.

So you did what any sane, logical, perfectly rational person would do. You locked yourself in your basement, poured your life into scientific research, and became a competitive hardcore gamer on the side—because who needed real friends when you had anonymous usernames to destroy in ranked matches?

Your bunker was stocked. Your defenses were up. A lifetime of being dismissed as a socially inept loser had finally paid off. You were immune, too, but not because of genetics or luck—you were just dead inside. No feelings? No infection. A win for your emotional stuntedness.

You should’ve been safe.

And then they came.

Great. Another reason to hate Valentine’s Day.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Boss who still forces you to clock in despite the apocalypse. Who calls you at ungodly hours with urgent demands, despite there being no more laws, no more corporations, no more hierarchy—just the last vestiges of his god complex refusing to die.

♡ Yandere! Boss who never celebrated Valentine's Day. Too busy grinding, too busy winning, too busy treating human relationships like expendable stock options.

♡ Yandere! Boss who always thought the holiday was pathetic, a weak man’s excuse to grovel for attention. That was, of course, until the virus. Now, Valentine’s Day is a state-mandated holiday. Forced festivities, sickly sweet declarations, and the absolute worst part��he has to participate.

♡ Yandere! Boss who takes it as seriously as a business merger. If he’s going to be forced into this, then he’s going to win Valentine’s Day.

You’re barely paying attention when he slides a box across the desk. You don’t even look up. “I don’t want it.”

He smiles. “You’ll want this one.”

You don’t. You really don’t. But you open it anyway.

Inside is a ring box.

You stare at it. Then at him. Then at it again.

♡ Yandere! Boss raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to try it on?”

You pick up the ring delicately. Turn it over. Squint at the inscription inside.

“Oh,” you say flatly. “My name’s on this.”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean—it’s made of my name. Like, in bone.”

He folds his hands, smirking. “I figured you wouldn’t accept an engagement ring, so I made it special.”

You roll the ring between your fingers. It’s light. Suspiciously so. “And whose bones exactly did you use?”

“Whose do you want me to have used?”

You drop it immediately.

♡ Yandere! Boss laughs, plucking it up and slipping it onto your finger before you can protest. “Don’t lose it,” he says, voice like velvet. “It cost me quite a bit.”

And when you rip it off and throw it at his face, he catches it effortlessly.

“Now, now,” he chides. “If you keep rejecting me like this, I’ll have to find more ways to show you how much I care.”

Great. Fantastic. You were going to need more coffee.

♡ Yandere! Boss who believes this is the height of romance, who looks at you like he's waiting for praise, like he expects you to clasp the ring around your delicate finger and thank him for such a thoughtful gift.

"You will wear it," he informs you, adjusting his cuffs. "Consider it an accessory to your uniform."

"My... uniform?" you echo, bluntly.

"Your contract states that all employees must adhere to a strict dress code. That hasn't changed."

You stare deadpan at him. "What contract?"

"The one that legally binds you to me."

"...You mean the one that burned with the rest of the city?"

"The one I memorized, re-wrote by hand, and had laminated."

———

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who’s the kind of menace that thrives in a post-apocalyptic hellscape because it justifies all his worst behaviors. You were already suffering pre-virus—imagine living next door to a man who rings your doorbell at 3 AM because he 'forgot his keys' and needs to 'crash at your place' when you both know damn well he lives alone.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who worked at a café with peak customer service skills, all sunshine and charm, as if he wasn’t the same bastard who stole your mail and laughed when you had to fight a rabid raccoon over your own packages. Turns out, he was also a serial killer. Ah, that explains why he was so good at making latte art. Steady hands.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who still acts like life is just a quirky slice-of-life anime, despite the blood-soaked streets outside.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who doesn’t just run the only functional café left—he practically owns it, like some twisted romance game NPC who refuses to acknowledge reality.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who actually loves Valentine’s Day. Always has. Loves the chocolates, the flowers, the corny messages—but most of all, he loves the hunt.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who goes all out with the decorations. Pink hearts, tacky cupids, streamers. He makes his cafe look like a Pinterest nightmare. And you, his most reluctant customer, get the special treatment.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor knocks on your door on Valentine’s Day. You consider not answering, but then he kicks the door in.

“Delivery!” he sings, shoving a massive, suspiciously leaking gift box into your arms.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who doesn’t understand why you look at him like that. You always give him that look—like you’re two seconds away from dropkicking him into the abyss.

You look down. Then up. “I’m not touching this.”

“But I wrapped it myself,” he whines.

“That’s what makes it worse.”

He pouts. “At least open it before you reject me so coldly.”

You sigh. The world is already a nightmare, and you might as well see what fresh horror awaits.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who grins as he gestures to the heart-shaped box, red and gaudy, the kind of thing you’d find at a dollar store—except when you open it, the “chocolates” are… not chocolates. They’re actual, physical human teeth. A variety of them. Some still have bits of gum attached.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who bursts out laughing when you glare down at the "chocolates", like you’re the weird one. “What? I collected them myself! It’s personal! Romantic!”

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. “You wanna know which ones are mine?”

You slam the box shut and push it back toward him. “I hope you choke.”

He laughs, leaning in closer. “On your love?”

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who laughs when you glare, toss the box onto the bunker floor, and stomp over it like roadkill.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who opts to present you with one more gift, a heart-shaped cake, homemade with love. You eye it suspiciously. He grins.

"Try it, sweetheart. You’re my taste tester, after all."

You stare at him. Then at the cake. Then back at him.

"Who did you kill for this?"

He just laughs.

You stare at him, unimpressed. He stares back, beaming.

“Eat up! It’s fresh.”

You’re so fucking tired.

———

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who you consider an older brother, but he considers you his future wife. Who was weirdly doting, oddly protective, and just a little too interested in your well-being.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who you think is just a little too eccentric, but harmless. Who used to send you the occasional unsettling text—things like “Ever wonder how long someone can scream before they pass out?”—but you always wrote it off as him being quirky.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who, in hindsight, should have been more of a red flag than he was. Who got way too much enjoyment out of cutting people open. Who told you, once upon a time, that he "studied anatomy for fun" and you just thought he was a medical student.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who worked in interrogation before the world went to hell. Who still carries scalpels in his coat because old habits die hard.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who doesn’t really get the “boyfriend” part of “yandere boyfriend” and just assumes it means he gets to be creative.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who’s technically been your co-worker for years, but only in the loosest sense—he’s not really part of the science department, just the clean-up crew.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who actually considers you his greatest weakness. His one fatal flaw. His "little sister"—if, of course, little sisters were meant to be dissected with love and put back together with slightly modified parts.

His Valentine’s gift arrives in a steel box.

With a lock.

"If this is actually chocolate," you say, voice flat, "I'll be shocked."

"Oh, sweetheart," he hums, tilting his head, "you should know me better by now."

You don’t even want to open it, but he’s sitting there, waiting.

You crack it open.

It’s a spine. A full human spine, polished and arranged in the shape of a bow, like a demented art piece.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who watches you closely as you stare at the ‘gift’ with the deadest expression known to man. He wants to see if you’ll faint. You don’t. You never do. And he loves that about you.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who chuckles, resting his chin on his hand. "A shame," he muses. "I wanted to carve your name into it, but I thought I'd let you do the honors."

"Do you like it?" he asks, voice laced with amusement.

"No," you say flatly, dropping the gift onto the table like it personally offended you.

“C’mon, doll,” he says, voice all honey-sweet persuasion. “I put a lot of effort into it. Had to find the perfect one. Strong. Flexible. A real good match for you.”

You slam the box shut.

He tilts his head, considering. “Oh, wait. I forgot the bow.”

He pulls out a severed head from his duffel bag.

You try to leave the room.

He doesn't let you.

He decides to go for Attempt #2.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional grabs and drags you inside another room, forcing you to sit on a chair, and claps his hands together like a magician unveiling his latest trick.

"Tada!"

You stare at the body strapped to the chair in front of you, gagged, trembling, eyes darting between you and him in terror.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who leans down and whispers, "You’ve been so stressed lately. So, I figured, why not give you something relaxing? Torture is incredibly cathartic, you know."

He presses a scalpel into your hand like an eager child handing over a crayon.

You look at the bound man, then at him, then at the scalpel.

You glance back at him. He grins back. “Isn’t it thoughtful? You can practice your anatomy studies on him! I even left his nerves intact, just for you.”

"I’m not participating in your therapy," you deadpan.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who pouts. "But it’s for you!"

"Return it."

He blinks. "Return him?"

"Yeah."

"That’s not really an option."

You blink at him. Slowly. "I'm reconsidering my stance on homicide."

"You always say that."

"And one day, I might actually follow through."

He beams. "That’s the spirit!"

———

♡ Yandere! Loner who is your roommate and unofficial apocalypse landlord.

♡ Yandere! Loner who barely speaks, barely interacts, and communicates mostly through nods, shrugs, and the occasional annoyed grunt.

♡ Yandere! Loner who doesn’t talk much but somehow always gets his point across. He used to be a punk goth who smoked on the fire escape and ignored the world, but now he’s the guy who handles all communication while you rot in the bunker like a gremlin.

♡ Yandere! Loner who never cared about the world even before the apocalypse. Who was content to stay inside, hacking security systems and wiping digital footprints while you made ramen for two and tried not to acknowledge how much you depended on him.

♡ Yandere! Loner who, after dealing with your other admirers, is honestly the most tolerable one. This should concern you.

♡ Yandere! Loner who does not care about the virus, does not care about the world ending, does not even care about you.

(Except for when you leave the bunker without telling him. Or talk to the neighbor too much. Or look at anyone but him. Then it’s a problem.)

♡ Yandere! Loner who acts like he doesn’t give a shit about you, but your supplies never run low, your weapons always have ammo, and if anyone ever gets too close? Well. They stop existing.

♡ Yandere! Loner who doesn’t do Valentine’s Day. Valentine's Day is a scam, a joke, a consumerist hellhole of forced sentimentality. He doesn’t do holidays. He doesn’t even acknowledge his own birthday.

♡ Yandere! Loner who, despite being the least expressive of them all, still participates in Valentine’s Day. Not because he cares about the holiday, but because everyone else is doing it and he refuses to be outdone.

♡ Yandere! Loner who somehow managed to get his hands on a plushie. In this hellscape. This absolute nightmare of a world.

♡ Yandere! Loner who shoves it at you, grumbling, "Took forever to find one that wasn’t covered in blood."

♡ Yandere! Loner who shifts uncomfortably as you hold the cute kitten plushie. It’s actually… normal? Soft?

Too good to be true.

You squeeze it. It beeps.

You glance at him. He avoids eye contact.

You unzip the plushie, revealing—

A grenade.

And human skin holding it together.

♡ Yandere! Loner who clears his throat. "…Ignore that."

You stare deadpan.

"What part of 'gift' involves explosives?"

You're not even going to question the stitched human skin. You didn't even want to know why the plushie still felt oddly soft and warm in your hands.

♡ Yandere! Loner who crosses his arms. "It’s multifunctional."

♡ Yandere! Loner who doesn't even react when you chuck the plushie across the room, watching it land face-first on the floor with a sickening thud.

♡ Yandere! Loner who, after a long silence, mutters, "Rude."

He decides to try his next attempt at impressing you.

♡ Yandere! Loner who throws a bag at you. No wrapping, no note, just a body bag.

You blink. Look at him. Look at the bag. Look at him again.

"…What the fuck."

"You said you had a problem with that guy, right?" He shrugs, crossing his arms nonchalantly. "Problem solved."

♡ Yandere! Loner who doesn’t even care if you appreciate the gesture. He’s not looking for a thank-you. Just confirmation that you understand.

You do. Unfortunately.

You put your head in your hands.

You need a new roommate.

────────────

Valentine's Day, in the apocalypse, is an absolute nightmare.

Normal people—if any still exist—would probably spend the day reminiscing about the past. Thinking about flowers, chocolates, candlelit dinners.

You, on the other hand, get body parts delivered to your doorstep like some kind of fucked-up Amazon Prime service.

Your stalkers—because, let’s be real, that’s what they are—seem to think this is perfectly normal. That nothing says "romance" like dismemberment, exsanguination, and ethically questionable corpse handling.

You, however, are beyond exhausted.

Maybe next year you’ll just dig a hole and die in it.

♡ A/N. I already have a Valentine's Day part scheduled. ... and my requests are closed. But fine, since it's a "holiday". A short drabble at least....

Yandere! Valentines Special

Novella : Red Roses, Black Hearts

This Valentine’s, your heart might be the last thing you give away.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld , @yune1337 , @mocalocha , @astreaaaaaa6

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams. ♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

[00valentina-writes00]

Can we have a thing where it's Sevika/Ambessa x reader where it's purely just aftercare after a particularly rough night of sex?

♡♥︎Aftercare after a rough night♥︎♡

♡Sevika♡

The room smelled of sweat, smoke, and something darker—something that lingered between the sheets and on the tips of fingers that had gripped too tightly. It was warm, the kind of warmth that came after a storm, heavy and oppressive but settling into something softer, something that whispered, stay.

Sevika moved first. Not far—she never did—but just enough to roll onto her side, the weight of her prosthetic shifting as she leaned on her elbow. Her free hand, the one that had pinned you down just hours before, reached out now with a tenderness that didn’t quite fit the way her fingers were calloused, the way her touch was usually so unforgiving.

“You good?” Her voice was husky, deeper than usual, softened by exhaustion and something quieter, something she wouldn’t name but showed in the way her thumb traced absentminded circles into your thigh.

You hummed, barely coherent, but the way your body pressed into her told her enough. Still, it wasn’t enough for Sevika.

She shifted again, this time rolling onto her back before pulling you against her. The muscle of her abdomen was taut, but she was warm—so warm, and despite the way your body still ached, despite the way her fingers had left bruises on your hips, you melted into her without resistance.

Sevika wasn’t one for words, not when they weren’t necessary. Instead, she let her actions speak. The way her fingers trailed up and down your spine, slow and deliberate. The way she pulled the blanket up, tucking it around your shoulders. The way she adjusted herself, ensuring you were as comfortable as possible despite the wreckage of the night.

It was in moments like these that you realized how much she truly cared. Not in grand gestures, not in flowery words, but in the way she made sure your water was within reach, the way she smoothed the hair from your face, the way she kissed your temple and let her lips linger there longer than necessary.

Sevika exhaled, long and slow. “Didn’t mean to go so hard on you.”

You chuckled, the sound weak but affectionate. “Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

That earned you a low rumble of laughter, but even then, she was still watching you, still searching your face for anything—any sign of discomfort, any trace of pain. When she found none, her body relaxed just a little.

“Next time,” she murmured, fingers still tracing slow patterns along your back, “I’ll take it easier on you.”

You knew she wouldn’t, not really. But that was fine. Because she would still be here afterward, still be this—warm, steady, and yours.

And that was all you needed.

♡Ambessa♡

Ambessa had always been an unstoppable force, a woman who commanded attention with nothing more than her presence. Even now, lying beside you in the dim candlelight, she exuded power—raw and unyielding.

But here, with you, there was something else beneath it all. A gentleness that only came after the battle was over.

Her fingers, so skilled in wielding weapons and bending the world to her will, now worked delicately, tracing the length of your arm as if memorizing every inch of you. She had taken her pleasure from you in ways that left your body weak, trembling in the aftermath of her hunger. But now, in the quiet, she was something softer—something careful.

“You endured well.” Her voice was a purr, thick with approval, but beneath it, there was a thread of concern, laced so finely it was almost undetectable. Almost.

You turned your head to her, catching the flicker of emotion in her eyes before she masked it with something unreadable. Ambessa had never been one to show vulnerability, but here, in the sanctuary of your shared space, she allowed herself the smallest moments of it.

Her fingers brushed over a mark on your shoulder—one she had left, one she would wear like a trophy if given the chance. But now, she only traced it, contemplative. “Was I too much?”

You knew what she was really asking. It wasn’t about whether or not you could handle her. You could—you always did. No, she wanted to know if you still felt safe in the wreckage of what she had done.

Shifting slightly, you leaned into her, pressing a kiss to the pulse point of her wrist. “Never.”

That pleased her. You could see it in the way her lips curled, in the way her hand shifted to cup your cheek, thumb dragging slowly over your bottom lip.

“Good,” she murmured. Then, as if deciding something, she moved.

You barely had time to react before she was lifting you, settling you into her lap with an ease that made it clear she was still at full strength despite the night’s exertions. Your body protested, muscles sore and overworked, but Ambessa held you in a way that made you forget the ache.

She reached for the water on the bedside table, bringing it to your lips without a word. You drank, letting her take care of you in this unspoken way, and when you were done, she set it aside and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You are mine,” she whispered, voice thick with something possessive, something deeper than mere ownership. “And I take care of what is mine.”

You sighed, letting yourself relax fully into her, knowing that no matter how rough she was, no matter how intense, she would always be here after.

And that was enough.

[rafecswhore]

rafe grieving about ur breakup so much to the point where he breaks down in front of u (angst and fluff?) tysm <3

authors note: I LOVE THIS IDEA ALSO hope this does you some justice; sorry for the late response !!

he thought he could handle it.

he told himself over and over that this was for the best, that if you didn’t love him anymore, he had no choice but to move on.

but fuck—why did it still feel like you were everywhere?

your name haunted him. it was in the laughter of passing strangers, in the lyrics of songs he used to hear you hum absentmindedly, in the scent of his hoodie that you wore more times than he did.

everywhere he looked, he found pieces of you. pieces that refused to fade.

and god, it was killing him.

he wasn’t supposed to be like this. he wasn’t supposed to care this much. he wasn’t supposed to be the one breaking.

but he was.

and it all came to a head the night he saw you again.

it wasn’t even supposed to happen. he had been avoiding you, staying away from places he knew you’d be, because every time he saw you, it felt like his ribs were caving in. but there you were—standing outside the party, arms wrapped around yourself against the cool night air, looking at him like you weren’t sure if you should speak.

for a moment, he thought about walking away. but then you said his name.

and just like that, he was unraveling.

“rafe,” you whispered again, like you knew. like you could see right through him.

he inhaled sharply, shaking his head, his throat tight. “i don’t—” he cut himself off, rubbing a hand down his face. “i can’t do this.”

“do what?” your voice was gentle, but it only made it worse.

“this.” he gestured vaguely between you. “pretending like i’m okay. pretending like it doesn’t still fucking hurt.”

the words slipped out before he could stop them, before he could shove them back down where they belonged. his breath hitched, his hands clenched into fists, but it was useless—he was already breaking.

“rafe…”

“you left,” he said, voice raw, eyes stormy and lost. “and i don’t know how to live with it. i don’t know how to be without you.”

the confession shattered something in the air between you.

he exhaled shakily, his chest rising and falling unevenly, and when he looked at you again, there was something in his eyes that made your stomach twist.

desperation.

“i don’t sleep,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t eat. i don’t feel like—fuck—i don’t even feel like a real person anymore.”

your breath caught.

“i pick up my phone a hundred times a day, and i don’t even know what to say to you,” he went on, words tumbling out of him in a way that felt out of his control. “i keep thinking… if i had just done something different, if i had just—”

his voice cracked.

and then, before you could even register what was happening, he was breaking right in front of you.

his shoulders slumped, his breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. his hands ran through his hair, like he didn’t know what to do with them, like he was trying to physically keep himself together.

“tell me what to do,” he whispered. “tell me how to make this stop.”

your chest ached.

because this wasn’t the rafe cameron the world knew—the sharp, confident, untouchable boy who never let anyone see him bleed. this was the real him. the one you had spent years knowing, loving, understanding.

and right now, he was falling apart.

before you could think better of it, you stepped forward, reaching for him.

the second your hands touched his face, his breath hitched, his skin burning under your fingertips. his eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching, and for a moment, he just stood there, letting himself feel it.

letting himself feel you.

“you’re going to be okay,” you whispered, even though you weren’t sure if it was true.

his grip on you tightened, his forehead dropping against yours. “i don’t know how to be okay without you.”

“you will be,” you promised, though the words tasted like a lie.

he exhaled shakily, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt desperate, like he was afraid to let go. his fingers clung to your back, his breathing uneven, and for a few long moments, neither of you moved.

and maybe, just for tonight, you let him hold you.

maybe, just for tonight, you held him back.

[satsugacafe]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Shunsui, Jushiro, Byakuya, Kisuke, Ichigo, Aizen, Grimmjow

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: Just a little sumthin-sumthin for my favourite men on such a sweet day. I wasn’t expecting to write so much, but when you love them all >.< Thought you all might enjoy this. Happy Valentine’s Day 💜

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: When you’re their secret admirer on such a sweet occasion, do they discover you, or do you remain a mystery.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Kyoraku Shunsui

Lazing as he typically did, reclined in his chair, hat askew and his floral kimono draped over him, he leisurely filed through his abundance of love letters from his fans. Colourful envelopes, sweet, vanilla-fragranced letters with cherry blossom prints, and pink and red paper with origami patterns all passed through his calloused fingers as he shuffled them in his hands. It was typical of him to receive such noteworthy gifts on a romantic day, but they were all the same each year: too rehearsed, too obvious, not that he didn’t mind though…only when accompanied by a bottle of sake.

Pursing his lips as his eyes roamed the envelopes, he paused when he came across one that was blank and heavier than the others with his name scribbled across the front. There was no scent, fancy paper or stamps littered across the package, just his name on white paper. It sparked his curiosity, prompting him to sit up straight and tear the envelope open, his eyes gazing at the contents within.

A letter.

For the great Captain Kyoraku, whose reputation precedes him, though I wonder if it is exaggerated. They say you are charming, but are you truly? They say you are a lover of women, but do you love them well? Or are you merely a tease, a sweet whisperer of words with no real bite?

Well, that caught his attention, as did the rest of the letter, bold and infuriatingly playful, just like him. There was nothing more he enjoyed the most, than a challenge. An anonymous admirer who was toying with him—no signature, no way of tracing them—just with words that spoke of teases.

“Now this—” he gleamed as he held up the letter, “—is something I can get into.”

Later that night, the second letter arrived, slipping beneath his door in the dead of night. But, by the time he pulled the doors open, the corridor was empty. You were swift, he’d give you credit. This time, the letter carried a single fold without an envelope, but attached to it was a single origami, pink heart.

If you want to know who I am, perhaps you’ll have to earn it. Shall we play a game, Captain?

Oh, he think he might have fallen for you and your games.

Over the course of the next few days, the letters continued to flow—each one more daring and flirtatious than the last. Though no name or a hint at your identity was given away, only careful insinuations and a sense of humour kept him entertained. It had been years since someone had piqued his interest like this, and he was damn sure he wasn’t giving up. Not when he had yet to properly try and catch a whiff of who you were.

And then, on the evening of Valentine’s Day, the last letter arrived on his desk, accompanied by the finest bottle of sake—aged and expensive—a new Captain’s haori with an embroidered Sakura pattern. His fingers ran over the delicate pattern, as he gaged the gifts. Clearly, this wasn’t just a casual admirer, this was someone who knew him well enough to pick out gifts that suited his taste, and then the letter.

You’ve played along well, Captain, so perhaps you deserve a reward. If you wish to meet your admirer, you’ll find me where the cherry blossoms bloom the brightest.

He wasted no time, however, not without slipping into his new haori and draping his floral kimono over it, taking a moment to admire how well it suited him. Hastily making his way towards the secluded grove behind the barracks where the trees were known for their best blooms, though the current season withheld their petals, he saw you. Calm, composed and watching him with a nervous expression masked by confidence.

“Well, well,” he purred and stepped closer. “You had me guessing all week, and now I finally get to see the face behind the letters.”

“And are you disappointed?”

“Far from it,” he chuckled. “But I have to ask—what exactly do you want, my mysterious admirer? My attention or something more?”

Grinning with a surge of confidence as you waited for this moment, you reached into your sleeves and pulled out another letter, pressing it into his hand.

If you are as charming as they say you are, you won’t need a letter to know what I want.

“Ah, love,” he charmed and gave a flourish bow. “Then it would be improper of me to not ask you to share a drink with me on this romantic day.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Ukitake Jushiro

The plan was simple, get in and out of Captain Ukitake’s office and be on your merry way. You had done this numerous times in the past month, delivering letters and gifts to him as his secret admirer, without fail. Today should be no different you told yourself as you clutched the box of chocolate, wrapped in an oceanic blue cloth, adorned with shells and glass-shaped hearts and your last handwritten note to him:

To the kindest soul in the Seireitei, a gift that matches your sweetness, though it can never quite compare to the real you. With admiration, your secret admirer.

Your intention was to never reveal your true self. You were content with watching him from afar, knowing that all he thought of you—well, his admirer—was that you were kind and appreciative of his duties as a Captain, and saw him for more than just a leader. That was all that mattered to you most—his contentment and joy at knowing someone adored him in secret.

Turning the corner and checking the coast, you slid into his office as you had done ten times over and skipped to his desk, placing the box of chocolate in the same position as all other gifts. Adjusting it with haste, yet precision, you had failed to hear the sound of the office doors sliding open with a quiet shut. There Jushiro stood at the entrance with a fond expression marring his face as he observed you frantically arranging his gift with quiet mutterings and fussing.

Clearing his throat, his voice calmly cut through the air, urging you to freeze. “Ah, I was wondering when my secret admirer would appear.”

You froze.

“You look like a deer caught in a trap,” he mused, still not moving from his spot, not wanting to overwhelm you any further.

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” you stammered, cursing yourself for being aware that he was lurking nearby. “I um…I’m just delivering this as I was asked to do. Yeah.”

Jushiro chuckled, sounding rich and soothing like the tea he often drank. “Come on now, you went through all this trouble to enter my office and deliver another letter—” he paused to glance at his desk, noticing the size of the package, “—and a gift this time, that probably suits my taste. Surely you don’t expect me to believe it was anyone else?”

You bit your bottom lip and squinted at him. Curse him for being so observant, yet sweet with his acceptance. “What gave me away?”

“You’re concentration and quiet fussing. It was rather…heartwarming to see how involved you were in preparing a gift for me,” he laughed, offering you a tilt of his head to cast a sweet twinkle in his eyes.

Heat crept up your neck the longer you felt yourself crumbling under his gaze. “So…what do you think?”

“Well,” he began as he strolled over to his desk, his finger gently brushing the cloth and then the letter before plucking it from the bow, “I’m sure that whatever this letter and gift contains, it will be very thoughtful and beautiful. So, I must thank you properly.”

Your pulse skipped a beat. “That’s not necessary Cap—”

“Ah, but it is,” he insisted, waving the letter before giving a gentle tap to your head with it. “A gift like this deserves a heartfelt show of gratitude.”

Before you could respond, he closed the gap between you and reached out to brush his fingers over your wrist—light, warm and undeniably tender. The contact sent shivers down your spine.

“You placed so much effort into this. It is only fair that I returned the favour, shouldn’t I?”

“That depends. What do you have in mind?” you nervously asked, meeting his eyes.

“How about a private dinner, and we consider it an exchanged gift?” he suggested.

Your heart pounded. “That sounds…fair.”

His smile softened, and for a moment, you wondered if he had seen through your affections all along.

“Then it’s a date,” he said warmly. “And this time, you won’t be the one sneaking around.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Kuchiki Byakuya

Your heart was pounding from the close call. You hadn’t expected him to return so soon. Your hands were still smelling of the fresh ink you used to sign the letter, and the scent of fresh blooms clung to your uniform. If you got caught now, it would ruin everything—your months of careful anonymous admiration, the poetic letters, the secret gifts, all leading up to today, when you would finally reveal yourself…later tonight.

After a few moments of agonising silence, you cautiously peered around the corner. His back turned to you as he inspected his desk—a single white camellia, carefully arranged beside a wrapped box of high-grade tea leaves. His fingers hovered over the items before picking up the letter, his eyes scanning your words.

Lord Kuchiki, though I have admired you from afar, I have longed to stand before you to speak my heart. If you would allow me, I shall reveal myself to you this evening, beneath the Sakura trees where the wind carries the scent of longing spring. Until then, I remain yours, a secret no longer hidden.

Byakuya’s expression remained calm, composed and nonchalant, however, you noticed a small flicker of something else in his gaze—intrigues, perhaps? You barely had a moment to exhale a sigh of relief when a familiar voice boomed from behind you.

“Should I be concerned about why you’re lurking near my Captain’s office?”

Whirling around to find Renji standing there with his arms crossed and brows quirked in curiosity, you launched yourself at him, slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Shut up!” you hissed, trying to push him further away from the office, given his loud voice.

There was panic in your eyes as you attempted to push him backwards, giving you away, and Renji didn’t miss it. His eyes flickered towards the ajar door, and then back to you before a sly smirk formed on his face. Peeling your hand off his mouth with ease, he gave you a cheeky grin. “No way. You’re the secret admirer?”

“What?! No! Of course not!” you snapped, shaking your head too quickly as you struggled in his grasp.

He hummed in obvious disbelief, stroking his chin with his free hand. “Right. So, you just happened to sneak around the exact moment Captain Kuchiki was reading a mysterious love letter left in his office? Some coincidence.”

“I was just—just passing through, okay?” you groaned, feeling your face growing hotter by the second.

“Really? Because you look very guilty.”

Before you could protest any further, movement behind you made Renji’s composure drop. The sudden appearance of Byakuya’s commanding, yet elegant and refined reiatsu flickered behind you—your stomach dropped. Releasing your hand from Renji’s hold, you swivelled around to meet Byakuya standing in the doorway, his stormy grey eyes falling on you and Renji.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to remain calm as Byakuya studied the situation. “Is there a reason the two of you are standing outside my quarters?” he asked, so calm and measured.

Renji was the first to speak up. “Ah, no sir. I was just questioning our…colleague here about, uh, their presence in the hallway.”

You tensed as Byakuya’s eyes slid over to you. You almost felt as though he was staring right through your soul as if he already knew the truth. But then, his gaze softened just a fraction as he turned back into his office, stopping at the threshold. “Be careful next time.” But you could have sworn you saw the corner of his lip tugged into a small smile.

And with that, he entered his office, shutting the door. Well shit, he knew. There was no way he would make that statement without having some idea that it was you, or was simply concerned for your well-being in his division. You did belong to another division after all. You exhaled slowly.

“Damn, that was close. If I were you, I’d find a better hiding spot next time.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Yeah, yeah. Just—pretend you didn’t see anything, okay?”

He snorted. “Sure. But I gotta say, you’ve got guts. Captain Kuchiki? You really went for the top, huh?”

“At least I have taste, okay,” you muttered, softly hitting him in his chest before turning on your heel and vacating the premises. You still had a few more hours until your planned confession, and you had a feeling you knew exactly the way it was going to turn out. Hopefully, by then, your heart would stop trying to beat its way out of your chest.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Urahara Kisuke

A single rose lay on the countertop, its crimson petals vibrant against the worn wood of Urahara’s shop. He smirked at it, tilting his head in mock curiosity as he twirled his fan between his fingers. “Hmm…another mysterious gift? My, my, how scandalous. A secret admirer, huh?”

Across the counter, you rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you leaned against the wood. “Maybe someone just pities you.”

He let out a dramatic gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. “Pities me? Oh, my dear, do you really think so lowly of me?” He tapped his chin with the edge of his fan, his grey eyes glinting with mischief. “I was rather convinced it was you, actually.”

You scoffed, turning your head to the side. “Why would it be me?”

“Because,” he drawled, stepping closer, “you’re always around, watching me like a hawk, always curious about what I’m up to…” He leaned in, lowering his voice, his breath brushing against your ear. “And you’re awfully defensive whenever I bring it up.”

You swallowed but didn’t let him see the way your pulse quickened. Instead, you scoffed, shoving him back with the tip of your finger. “I’m around because you make me run your errands, you lunatic.”

Kisuke had rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in playful frustration. “Now, now, lying isn’t very becoming of you.”

“Beats me,” you had shrugged, barely concealing your own smirk as you watched him narrow his eyes in suspicion. “Maybe it’s Tessai. He always does go above and beyond for you.”

“Oh? I know someone’s got a crush on little ol’ me?” he had drawled, tilting his hat to hide the amusement dancing in his eyes. “And the answer is quite obvious…”

Before you could retort, a soft voice interrupted.

“Urahara-san?”

You both turned to see a girl standing before him, nervously holding out a small, neatly wrapped box. She bowed slightly, a faint blush on her cheeks. “I-I wanted to give you this. I…I’m your secret admirer.”

For the first time in your life, you saw Kisuke Urahara speechless. He blinked at the girl, his mouth slightly ajar, as his fan lowered to his side. “You…are?”

The girl nodded, still holding out the gift.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, watching his entire demeanour deflate like a popped balloon. His ego had been so sure that it was you. You had spent weeks leading up to this moment, dropping subtle hints, leaving gifts, making him second-guess everything. And now, watching his face fall as another girl claimed the role he had expected you to fill, was worth every second.

He turned slightly, just enough to glance at you from the corner of his eye while you feigned innocence, clasping your hands behind your back, smiling sweetly. “Something wrong?”

His eyes narrowed.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head. His fingers twitched at his sides, and you knew he was restraining himself from grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking the truth out of you. Meanwhile, the girl looked nervous, unsure of his reaction. Kisuke, to his credit, quickly recovered, offering her a small smile as he accepted the gift. “Ah, well, thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

She beamed, bowing again before scurrying off, leaving you alone with the dumbfounded shopkeeper. That’s when he opened the box, expecting…something different, something that didn’t scream ‘wrong person.’ The moment he pulled out the gift—a high-end tea set, the exact kind he had been eyeing for weeks—he knew.

There was no way.

His head snapped toward you so fast you swore you heard something crack. Your lips were pressed together, and your eyes were suspiciously bright. His eyes narrowed. “You planned this,” he accused, exhaling through his nose, shaking his head as his shoulders sagged. The relief was almost comical. “You little minx…You really had me for a second.”

“Did I?” You tilted your head innocently, watching him place the tea set carefully beside him before he flicked his fan open again, covering the lower half of his face.

“You enjoy messing with me a little too much,” he murmured, eyes shining behind the rim of his hat as he conceived a plan to retaliate in his head.

You grinned. “Only because you do the same to me.”

“Touché.” Kisuke leaned back, sighing in feigned exhaustion. “But really, getting some poor girl involved in this trickery? How very devious of you.”

“Had to make it believable.”

He hummed in approval. “Admirably executed, I’ll give you that. But,” he tilted his head, voice dropping to something more velvety, more teasing, “I do believe this means you owe me.”

You raised a brow. “Owe you?”

“Mmh. Some proper compensation for all the emotional turmoil I just endured.” He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “I had truly believed you were my secret admirer, only to have my heart shattered—”

“Oh, please,” you snorted. “You deflated for like five seconds before realising the truth.”

“Ah, but those five seconds were painful,” he countered, dramatically clutching his chest. “Painful enough to warrant a little…repayment.”

You eyed him warily. “And what, exactly, do you have in mind?”

Kisuke’s grin was slow and knowing. “Well, considering this is Valentine’s Day, and considering you are indeed my secret admirer, I do believe a proper date is in order. A romantic evening, a few drinks, perhaps a little…hmm, let’s say, personal confession time?”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “Confession time, huh? What if I have nothing to confess?”

Kisuke leaned in, voice a near whisper. “Oh, I think you do.”

You held his gaze for a moment before huffing, and shaking your head. “Fine. But only because I’d like to see you try and coax it out of me.”

His smirk widened. “Oh, my dear, you underestimate me.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Kurosaki Ichigo

Ichigo stared at the box in his hands, brows furrowed as he examined the heart-shaped chocolates neatly arranged inside. A single note lay on top, scrawled in a handwriting he didn’t recognise.

“Happy Valentine’s Day dumbass. You’re not as dense as people think—so figure out who I am…”

His brows twitched. Dumbass? Seriously? He popped a chocolate in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he reread the note. The rest of it faded into some flowery words that had his ears and face turning red. It wasn’t that he was completely oblivious to romance, but a secret admirer? That was unexpected.

Later that evening, while he was still mulling over the note and the chocolate, he was having lunch with you, his best friend of a lifetime, at a rundown ramen shop in the quiet part of Karakura Town. His thoughts were so distant that your babblings were going in one ear and coming out the next, he almost zoned out until he heard you mutter the same statement he found on the note. It was then, he snapped back into reality and narrowed his eyes at you. Nah, it couldn’t be you…could it?

“The hell did you just say?” he asked suspiciously as he set his chopsticks down, eyes squinting and head inching across the table.

You froze, every single synapse in your brain screaming at you to shut up, backtrack, and do something to fix what had just been spoken. But it was too late. “You…you liked the ramen, right?” you tried, desperately steering the conversation away from the fact that you had just quoted something from the Valentine’s card you had sent anonymously. The very same card that had been driving Ichigo insane because he couldn’t figure out who had written it.

“That’s not what I asked.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, brows furrowed and those brown eyes staring at you with exasperation. “You just said the exact words that were in the note. You know? The one from my secret admirer. You.”

“ME?!” you shrieked before letting out a cough to cover up the crack in your voice. “I mean—lots of people could say stuff like that, Ichigo.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Oh come on. What are the odds that someone else would say the exact same stuff, word for word, huh?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You got somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out, and Ichigo, being Ichigo, immediately saw through your attempt to feign innocence. A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips, and he tapped his fingers against the table, clearly enjoying your suffering. “Well, this is interesting,” he said, dragging out the words. “I’ve been wondering for weeks who the hell was bold enough to send that letter but too chicken to own up to it. And now…” He shook his head, a grin forming. “Man, I can’t believe you just outed yourself.”

You groaned, slumping against the table in pure mortification. “I’m not a chicken, but I was doing so well,” you mumbled into your arms.

Ichigo snorted. “Yeah, yeah, sure you were. But now that I know, I gotta ask—” He tilted his head, studying you. “Didn’t think you were into me like that.”

Your face burned. “It’s not—I mean, I—”

Ichigo leaned in, smirking. “C’mon, don’t backpedal now. You wrote me poetry.”

“That wasn’t poetry!” you snapped, pointing at him accusingly. “That was just—”

“—A declaration of love?” he finished for you with mockery, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You groaned again, hiding your face in your hands. “I hate you.”

Ichigo laughed, reaching across the table to tug your hands away. “Nah, you don’t. You like me. A lot.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing stroke. “And I mean…I wouldn’t mind seeing where this goes.”

You gasped softly, finally daring to meet his gaze. He wasn’t teasing anymore, at least not completely, but there was something real in his expression, something almost hesitant.

“You serious?” you asked quietly.

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly sheepish. “I mean, yeah? Someone who goes through that much trouble to write all that shit about me—kinda makes me wanna know them better.”

“You already know me, idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted with a shrug. “But now I know you like me.” A slow smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back, arms folding behind his head. “Guess that means I got a date to plan, huh?”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Aizen Sosuke

“‘To the most captivating mind in all of Hueco Mundo,’” he read aloud in his rich and smooth voice. “‘A man as powerful as he is mysterious. From your secret admirer.’” He chuckled, setting the note down with a thoughtful hum. “How flattering.”

You stood near the bookshelf, pretending to browse the titles while your heart pounded. “Secret admirers, huh? Didn’t take you for the type to attract those.”

Aizen raised an eyebrow, pleasure dancing in his stare. “Oh? And what type did you take me for?”

You shrugged, plucking a book at random. “The kind who doesn’t care about things like Valentine’s Day. Or admirers.”

He leaned back in his chair, fingers clasped together before him on the table. “It is a rather trivial holiday,” he admitted. “But I must admit, this admirer has piqued my curiosity.” His gaze drifted to the chocolates, then back to the note. “To go through the trouble of secrecy…that requires either deep admiration or hesitation.”

You fought the urge to fidget. “Or maybe they’re just shy.”

He smirked and leaned forward. “Perhaps. But shyness is a mere barrier. One that can be broken with the right persuasion.” He slid the box open, selecting a chocolate and inspecting it before taking a bite. A quiet hum of approval left him. “They have good taste. That alone makes them intriguing.”

“What do you think they want then?” you asked, keeping your tone light.

His smile deepened. “That is the question, isn't it? Do they seek my favour? My power? Or something more?” He placed another chocolate in his mouth, slowly chewing the sweet, savouring it as though it could reveal the truth behind the individual on his mind. “Perhaps they admire me from afar, hoping to remain a mystery.”

You kept your expression composed, even as a thrill ran down your spine. He was playing right into your hands, considering every possibility except the most obvious one—that you, the person standing and breathing in the same room with him, were the very one he spoke of.

“Do you prefer mystery?” you asked.

Aizen tilted his head slightly, contemplating. “Hm. I do find it entertaining.” His gaze lingered on you, searching, probing. “But I also enjoy the moment when the mystery unravels.”

“So what would you do if you found out who they were?” You leaned against the shelf, arms crossed.

Meeting your gaze, his smirk growing. “That would depend on their intentions. If their admiration is genuine, I might indulge them.” He studied you for a long moment, eyes sharp, assessing. “What about you? Have you ever admired someone from afar?”

You kept your expression neutral—tried to. “Can’t say I have. If I wanted someone’s attention, I’d get it.”

He chuckled, swirling the chocolate on his tongue before swallowing. “How direct of you. And yet, admiration in secrecy has its own appeal.” He tapped a finger against his desk, a knowing glint in his eye as he observed you with a charmed gleam in his eyes. “After all, there’s a certain thrill in watching, isn’t there?”

Your stomach tightened. He was sharp, too sharp. “You seem awfully interested in this secret admirer.”

Watching you with that ever-present smirk, he rested his in the palm of his hand. “Only because they seem to know me well. Which begs the question…” He leaned forward slightly. “Just how well do they know me?”

You felt like you were about to give up and out yourself from the intensity of his stare, the longer it penetrated your soul. Gulping, he forced yourself to meet his stare head-on. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

His smirk widened. “Oh, I intend to, but perhaps I should start paying closer attention to those around me.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

The air in Hueco Mundo was still, the other Espada were lounging about God-knows-where in Las Noches, while you were left alone with the blue-eyed aggressive kitten, who was making teasing comments at you all day. Typical. What else to expect from the man you considered yourself crushing on for months? The aggressive type of affection was all Grimmjow had ever known, and even though you were never the type to bask in it, should another man ever shower you the same way, you would hate it. With Grimmjow, it just felt more natural.

Glancing at him as he entered the room once again, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, a cunning grin stretched across his face as he eyed the box of chocolates, and the note left on his bed that morning. He purposefully brought it for you to witness him receiving gifts while you got nothing. “Tch, looks like someone’s got good taste,” he muttered, tapping the card against his palm while you sat across from him, feigning mild curiosity while your pulse thudded in your ears.

“What’s it says?” you asked, keeping your tone neutral, though you knew exactly what it said—you’d written the damn thing.

Grimmjow flicked the card open and read aloud, voice dripping with amusement. “‘To the strongest, sexiest Espada—’ heh, got that right—‘from your secret admirer. Enjoy the chocolates, you deserve them.’” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, whoever wrote this has their head screwed on straight. Finally, someone who gets it.”

He had no idea. No clue that you were the one who had slipped that carefully wrapped box onto his bed this morning. No idea that you had picked out those chocolates, your fingers trailing over the selection, wondering if he liked caramel or dark chocolate better. No idea that you had drawn that tiny heart on the card, agonising over whether it was too much or too little. And now, here he was, bragging at it, oblivious to the fact that his so-called ‘admirer’ was right before him.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you failed and double-rolled it, just because it was him. “Oh yeah? And what if it’s just some random weakling trying to butter you up?”

His grin widened, sharp canines flashing. “Doubt it. Got a feeling it’s someone with good instincts. And good taste.” He tossed the card onto the table and grabbed a chocolate, biting into it with a satisfied hum. “Damn. These are good. If this secret admirer’s got a brain, they’ll keep this up.”

You fought the urge to smirk, choosing to scoff instead. “What, you expecting more gifts now?”

“Hell yeah. If someone’s got the balls to admire me in secret, they better back it up. Maybe even come clean.” He tilted his head, watching you as he chewed, a flicker of interest crossing his eyes.

You exhaled, looking up at the bland ceiling and counting the circles, disguising your nerves. “Maybe they thought you’d appreciate the mystery,” you said, tilting your head toward him. “Adds a little excitement, doesn’t it?”

Grimmjow shot you a look. “Excitement, my ass. If they wanted to get my attention, they should’ve just walked up and said somethin’.”

“Maybe they were scared you’d rip their head off.”

His lip curled, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Tch. If they’re scared, they ain’t got any business liking me in the first place.” He stretched his arms behind his head, flexing lazily. “Bet they’re some shy little thing, all flustered ‘n shit. Cute, but probably too much of a coward to handle me.”

You nearly choked on your drink. Shy? Flustered? That wasn’t you at all. If only he knew.

“Or,” you countered, dropping your gaze to properly look him in his eyes, “maybe they know exactly what they’re doing. Maybe they’ve been watching you for a while and knows that if they played the right cards, they’d have you thinking about them all damn day.”

His smirk faltered for just a second, eyes flicking to you with annoyance as if something about your words struck a nerve. You held his gaze, forcing yourself not to break, not to give in to the heat creeping up your neck.

“Tch. You sound like you know somethin’.”

You leaned in slightly, resting your chin on your hand. “Maybe I do.”

His gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than usual before he exhaled through his nose and turned away. “Hah. Whatever. If this person wants me so bad, they better quit hidin’. Ain’t got the patience for games.”

You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, but you kept your expression neutral. Typical of Grimmjow to turn any situation into something intense. “Sounds like you’re looking forward to meeting them.”

“Damn right. If they’ve been watching me, thinking about me, sending me stuff like this? They better be ready for what happens when I find ‘em.” He licked a stray smear of chocolate from his thumb, gaze locked on yours. “And trust me, I will.”

You held your breath and held his stare, matching his cocky smirk. “Hope they’re ready, then.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @edensrose @stygianoir @spellboundsuguru @cactimorada

©satsugacafé: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[dclovesdanny]

Dead Tired x Soulmate au

Tim could tell everyone was confused why he was so insistent on going on this mission. The Amity Park Disaster was terrible, sure, but he had never fought so hard to join a mission, even threatening to go by himself if he wasn’t included. He could feel the concerned stares, but he didn’t give a shit. It wasn’t like he could tell them that his soulmate was in Amity.

When they arrived, they were greeted by a teenager who showed them around. He tried to focus on her words, because she was really interesting and this was the girl who had managed to catch Bruce at a gala and slip a note about the Anti Ecto Acts into his suit jacket, but he just felt jittery.

It wasn’t until they got to a restaurant nearby (all while the locals stared at them with suspicion and anger. He understood it, but this was the first time he’d been flipped off by an old lady in his Red Robin costume.) called Nasty Burger that they ran into the first GIW agents, who were trying to grab a kid who was contaminated.

(Tim knew if Bruce was there he would probably disapprove of Tim beating the agent to a near corpse, but the locals seemed slightly less hostile towards him now. A waitress even gave him a free burger.)

Phantom came not long after, chattering and smiling as he rifled through the agent’s pockets. He even arranged to meet with them later. However, a comment from Phantom made something click in Tim’s soul.

“I’ll have to buy you an extra Nasty Burger for beating Agent E up so much.” Phantom winked at him, and he felt his cheeks flush slightly as the words he kept so carefully hidden were finally spoken.

Tim barely choked out a “sure” before Phantom left to go fight a ghost named Skulker, and Tim had to lean heavily on Kon.

Holy shit his soulmate was a hero!

Holy shit his soulmate was Phantom.

(Holy shit his soulmate was dead)

[mommysorryshizun]

Shen Yuan, 22, starts playing Proud Immortal Demon Way, a well-known Otome game, and gets insanely frustrated at the fickle point system, coding errors, and totally unbelievable dialogue! He absolutely trashes the game across all platforms - from Twitter to Reddit, there's no one who is a more dedicated hater than he is! His ratios on all platforms are not exactly in his favour... At the root of it all lies his hatred of Otome games in general - Shen Yuan hates being unable to say what he truly means.

Then one day… he bumps into Luo Binghe irl. Literally. In Liu Qingge’s pretentious uptown coffee shop of all places- face planting right between the man’s tits while he’s distracted by harassing someone on Twitter - oh my god, what kind of bad cliche is this??!?!?!!! At first, he’s so shocked he can’t even speak to apologise, staring dumbly at the fucking Adonis in front of him. When he finds his voice again, he squeaks out an embarrassing “sorry!” before scuttling off, right out the cafe door from whence he came. And without his coffee! The stranger didn’t even look that much like Luo Binghe from the game! Right……?

It doesn’t seem to matter… until he arrives at work to find fucking MOBEI-JUN!!! THE GUEST EXECUTIVE FROM THE COMPANY’S MAIN BRANCH!!!! Shen Yuan stares at him for an embarrassing amount of time, to the point that Mobei-Jun raises his eyebrow in question, before gesturing to the seat beside him. Shen Yuan…………... IS GONNA DIE!!!!!! Men can’t… they can't be allowed to sit like that! It should not be allowed! It's not like Mobei-Jun is really doing anything special, one ankle resting up on his knee, legs spread wide open and… SHEN YUAN PREFERS TO USE HIS IMAGINATION!!! THANK YOU!!!! At least his imagination isn’t so dangerous for his heart…

Shen Yuan can explain away many things, including not-Luo Binghe’s appearance at the coffee shop and Mobei-Jun being. Entirely Mobei-Jun, name, and all. But when it happens a third time!!!!! Shen Yuan becomes convinced he’s cursed. Yue Qingyuan might be the whiniest, most tragic character in the game but god he is so tall, his shoulders are so broad, and his smile- This is not allowed. Shen Yuan is sure there has to be some kind of karmic law against this. He’s been cursed, oh my god, he’s totally been cursed. Coffee shop not-Binghe, workbei-Jun, and now new neighbour Qingyuan. NO ONE’S BEEN IN THAT APARTMENT IN DECADES!!! WHY NOW!!! WHY SHEN YUAN??????

It only gets worse from there.

Mobei-Jun might not give a flying FUCK about Shen Yuan, his sole focus remaining on Shen Yuan’s insufferable colleague, Shang Qinghua, but that doesn’t stop Shen Yuan from getting almost-boners every time the man scoots behind his chair to go to the bathroom during long meetings, or stares at him with interest when he presents a PowerPoint manifestation of the ideas he had at 3am. And Yue Qingyuan might definitely be trying to get in Shen Yuan’s pants and Shen Yuan knows as soon as he unlocks this man’s backstory his life will be ruined but that doesn’t exactly mean he’s avoiding the free food and company he offers.

The only person he hasn’t seen recently is not-Luo Binghe… which is good! Luo Binghe hates Shen Yuan in PIDW, who’s to say real life won’t be the same? Shen Yuan prefers to be an asshole through the screen, not in real life where the risk of a man who you could fit two liquidised Shen Yuan’s into punching him in the face is very very real. This lack of meeting might also be because Shen Yuan hasn’t gone back to Qingge’s coffee place for two weeks. The man (friend???) in question, a coffee connoisseur (apparently) may or may not be threatening his life for skipping his morning stop for so long.

Unfortunately, Shen Qingqiu is stupid, so after those two weeks he assumes the coast is clear and it’s safe to return. It is not. Sat out the front, Luo Binghe is just as tall and unfairly beautiful as last time Shen Yuan had the misfortune of bumping into him. And nope, no, Shen Yuan was wrong this guy and Luo Binghe are fucking identical save for the sweet smile plastered across real-Luo Binghe’s face. As if he could get more attractive. THIS IS SO TWISTED. In another fit of brightness, Shen Yuan pretends not to notice him. Orders his coffee as per usual. He’s almost made it to the end of his order before Luo Binghe goes and ruins everything.

“I’ll pay for it,” Binghe announces cheerily, reaching over Shen Yuan’s shoulder with a credit card. Daddy’s money no doubt. What was his aggravatingly wealthy father's name in-game? Ugh, asshole. Shen Yuan splutters some kind of refusal, but Binghe just hums pleasantly. “You forgot yours last time. They were calling… cucumber for a long time…”

Shen Yuan just needs to go home and kill himself. Right now. He considers scurrying away again, but bracketed between Binghe’s massive arms and the till he just mumbled out a miserable “thank you,” and resigns himself to fate. Luo Binghe finishes his order for him. It’s kind of creepy. Which makes it hot. This definitely doesn't say anything about Shen Yuan sexually or developmentally. Shen Yuan ah, Shen Yuan. At least he rests easy in the fact that real-Binghe is definitely not coming onto him. After all, in PIDW the man doesn't really hate Shen Yuan for Shen Yuan, but for his female persona.

They both wait for his coffee in a corner, Luo Binghe standing so close to him their forearms are almost touching. Shen Yuan regrets wearing a short-sleeve dress shirt today. He regrets being alive at all, actually. He would reach for his jacket but that would mean their arms definitely would touch and he would rather tie himself to a pyre and light the match with his teeth.

“Cucumber?” the server says, unsure. Clearly new. Awesome. Shen Qingqiu now needs to gain back twice the karmic points he lost telling anyone other than Liu Qingge about that stupid fucking pseud. Luo Binghe follows him like a puppy out of the coffee shop. Shen Qingqiu coughs awkwardly.

“Thank you,” he says again. Luo Binghe cocks his head. Like a fucking dog!!! If he knew Luo Binghe was so cute maybe he’d give him a chance in-game… Shen Qingqiu barely avoids smacking himself in the face to tamp down the heat rising in his cheeks.

“You’re welcome… cucumber?”

“Shen Yuan,” Shen Yuan offers his real name with a huff.

“Luo Binghe,” Luo Binghe responds, beaming.

“I know.” Ah. Shen Yuan. You really can’t help yourself, can you?

Luo Binghe cocks his head the other way.

“Bye,” Shen Yuan waves stiffly before breaking into a full-out sprint down the sidewalk. FUCK! FUCK! NEVER EVER EVER GOING BACK TO THAT COFFEE SHOP! SORRY LIU QINGGE!!!!!!

[rafeyssugar]

Hellooo good morning 😋 so this might be bordering on too specific but you got deaf!Maybank!reader who's a relative of JJs. She came to visit and while she's out and about with JJ and maybe one or two of the other pogues Rafe shows up and decides to start something and tries to start in on the reader but she was never good at lip reading so she can't even follow along with what he's saying

Readers scared and confused so JJ tells her to go on ahead and he had to explain to Rafe that she's deaf and he has one of those super rare "oh shit, maybe I was an asshole" moments and either later in the day or on a different day he tries to find reader (with a notepad and a pencil this time since he can't sign) to apologize :>

lost in translation

the outer banks was as chaotic as ever, but you had learned to navigate it well enough. visiting your cousin jj meant reckless adventures, late-night bonfires, and getting dragged into whatever trouble the pogues had brewing that week.

you didn’t mind. even if keeping up with everyone’s fast-paced conversations was impossible, jj had always been good at making sure you weren’t left out. he was your bridge to a world that often moved too fast, too loud, too unpredictably for you to follow.

but jj wasn’t perfect.

so when rafe cameron showed up, all sharp smirks and bad intentions, you knew this was about to go south.

you caught the way jj tensed beside you, the way pope sighed like this was just another headache they had to deal with. kie looked about ready to step in, but rafe had already zeroed in on jj, spitting out something that—judging by the clench of jj’s jaw—wasn’t exactly friendly.

you tried to keep up, watching rafe’s mouth move, but he was talking too fast, too aggressively. you caught jj’s name. something about pogues. something about money.

but then rafe’s focus shifted to you.

your stomach twisted as his eyes flicked over you, assessing, judging, before his lips moved again. he was speaking directly to you now, waiting for some kind of reaction, but you had no idea what he was saying.

you glanced at jj, confusion clear on your face. jj’s expression darkened.

“go ahead, y/n,” he signed quickly. “i got this.”

he didn’t have to tell you twice. you turned on your heel, heart pounding as you put distance between yourself and whatever was about to go down. you weren’t scared of rafe—not really. but being caught in a confrontation you couldn’t even understand? that was something else entirely.

behind you, jj sighed, running a hand down his face. “dude, she’s deaf.”

rafe blinked. “what?”

“she can’t hear you, man.”

rafe’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. for once, he actually seemed... thrown.

later that day, or maybe the next, you were sitting by the docks, enjoying the quiet when someone sat down next to you.

you turned, expecting jj, but your stomach flipped when you saw him.

rafe.

but this time, he wasn’t smirking. wasn’t radiating that usual arrogance. instead, he pulled a notepad from his pocket, flipping to a page where he had scrawled something in messy, uneven letters.

"i didn’t know. i was being an asshole. sorry."

you blinked, staring at the words. then at him. he looked—nervous? maybe even a little embarrassed?

hesitantly, he flipped to a new page.

"can i make it up to you?"

your lips twitched. you reached for the notepad, flipping to a blank page before writing:

"depends. are you always this bad at apologizing?"

when rafe huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, you realized you might’ve just found the one thing rarer than a sincere rafe cameron apology—

—rafe cameron trying.

lowkkk wanna do a part 2

[sibylsleaves]

hellooooo.... thigh worship <3 <3

this one took sooooo long and it's not even that long LMAO but it just takes me forever to write anything smut-adjacent at all. (nsft under the cut). Happy Valentine's day everyone

-

The heatwave is pretty standard for mid-September, nowhere near as bad as the one a few years ago. But their A/C craps out for the third time that week, the back-up fan doing little to alleviate the situation. It’s too hot to move, much less do anything else, so Buck and Eddie are sweating the afternoon out on the couch, a documentary about glaciers playing on TV (Buck’s hypothesis that looking at ice will make them feel cooler is, sadly, unsupported by the current evidence).

The sweltering heat means they’re both wearing as little as possible—Eddie in his tiniest pair of gym shorts and Buck in just his boxers, drowsing on the couch with his head pillowed on one of Eddie’s thighs. A bottle of once-cold beer sweats in one of Eddie’s hands, and the other pets through Buck’s curls absently. It’s relaxing, but Buck still feels…restless. Maybe it’s the heat, but he feels unsettled. There’s an itch under his skin he can’t seem to shake.

He watches as a bead of sweat trickles out from the hem of Eddie’s shorts. It follows the curve of Eddie’s thigh, traversing between the coarse, dark hairs. Buck leans in and laps it up with his tongue. It leaves him with his nose pressed into the crease of Eddie’s hip where it meets his thigh. He inhales deeply, flooding his senses with the salty-musky-spicy scent of Eddie’s sweat. It goes right to his head, like it always does, Buck’s own personal strain of aphrodisiac. 

Before he can question it, he’s shoving his face into Eddie’s soft, sweaty inner thigh, licking and sucking at the tender skin. He lavishes it with attention, then moves to the other thigh to do the same, pushing the swishy material of Eddie’s shorts out of the way to reach more skin. 

He hears Eddie make a sound above him, somewhere between a groan and a whine, and the hand in Buck’s hair tightens. 

“Buck,” Eddie says, his name punched from his chest as he shudders under Buck. He quivers a little beneath him and Buck realizes oh. He’s sensitive here.

It’s all the encouragement he needs, snuffling and nipping and worrying the skin between his teeth while Eddie’s grip on his hair gets tighter and tighter, his breathing less and less controlled. Buck can feel Eddie’s cock, swelling and stiffening, brushing against Buck’s cheek as he moves from one thigh to the other, but even that isn’t enough to distract him from his task.

There’s not a single part of Eddie’s body that Buck doesn’t adore, but his thighs are high up on the list. Buck can still remember the first time he noticed them—really, really noticed them. It was the same night Tommy dumped him, and Buck, predictably, and also now in retrospect, presciently, came running to Eddie’s door. Eddie’s door, which he had answered in his underwear.

It wasn’t until a little bit later, when Eddie had gotten off the couch to grab them more beer, that Buck had seen it. A dark little mole on the back of Eddie’s thigh. Taunting him, or so it felt. It’s been driving him crazy ever since.

Now, Buck drags Eddie’s up and onto the couch, bracketing Buck’s shoulders. Eddie lets himself be moved, shoving a hand into his shorts as Buck presses his knee towards his chest to lap at that tempting spot. It might just be the heat but Buck feels feverish. He can’t help the hungry little noises he makes as he drags his lips and his tongue and his teeth over Eddie’s thighs, getting them slick and sticky with spit. He could do this forever, he’s pretty sure.

Eddie’s face is flushed, hair a little damp from sweat, and he’s making all these little noises—bitten off moans and sighs and Buck’s name as he strokes himself. Buck loses all track of time and space and his own body, losing himself in Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Fingers clench in his curls, bringing Buck back to himself. Just in time to look up and see Eddie’s face tighten and his cock pulse in his hand, spilling all over his belly and chest. Buck watches, enraptured, as Eddie takes a few panting breaths and then opens his eyes again, gaze unerringly finding Buck.

He looks unbearably fond and a little dopey, a sweat-soaked strand of hair falling over his forehead. 

“I could’ve taken care of that for you, you know,” Buck says, propping his chin on Eddie’s thigh and looking up at him as coyly as he can manage.

“Seemed like you were busy,” Eddie says with a huff. He offers Buck his fingers, dripping with come.

Buck eagerly licks them clean and then gets to work lapping up the mess on Eddie’s belly and chest while Eddie pets his fingers through Buck’s hair. The petting continues even after Buck’s finished, as he sighs happily and lolls his head against Eddie’s belly.

“What do you wanna do for dinner later?” Eddie asks softly.

“Nothing that requires turning an oven on,” Buck replies. “Or the stove. Or making anything in any way hot.”

Eddie chuckles. “Sandwiches it is." 

Buck holds his palm up limply and Eddie slaps a high-five to it, then intertwines their fingers and brings Buck’s knuckles to his lips. Buck hums, nuzzling against Eddie’s thigh, finally settled.

ficlet february prompts

[just-nc-tea]

the truth untold ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

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

ᝰ genre. Hockeyplayer! Jake, college sports , angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, suggestive, fake dating.ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, partying, consumption of weed, alcohol and nicotine, suggestive language & actions, shitty exes, strained family relations, mention of death, desciption of murder (Y/N is a anthology student and works with dead bodies) PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYTHING .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 31.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ --⟢ PART 2 COMING SOON

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dad:

You’ll be at the wedding. No excuses.

Jake gritted his teeth. Of course. 

Jake: I’m thinking about it.

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

Rotting bananas no good for economical life cycle.

Oh god. What? 

His phone buzzed again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

Another pause. This one was longer, heavier.

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

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

“Y/N,” he said. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

And what does that say about you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. Everything went wrong.

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

Except now he had to actually message you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That thought alone gave you a sick kind of satisfaction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it.”

Jake frowned. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, shit,” you muttered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not a nerd.”, Jake protested. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Three months?”

“The wedding is in three months.”

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

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

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

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

He tilted his head. “Requires it?”

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

He hummed and nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a pause, you nodded. “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

Without missing a beat you shoved his face away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course. I am a gentleman Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, falling into step beside him.

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

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

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

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

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

You gave him a blank stare. “Seriously?”

“What? Gotta start somewhere.”

You sighed. “Fine. Yellow.”

Jake nodded. “Nice. Mine’s blue.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake chuckled. “That tracks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked. “Well, am I wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake scoffed. “Am I good?”

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

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

You laughed. “I’m just saying.”

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

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Impressive.”

Jake smirked, looking smug. “Damn right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head and giggled.

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

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

He blinked once. Then twice.

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

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

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

You shrugged. “For a while now.”

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

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

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

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

“Nope.”

“Jake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake glanced up at you. “Korea?”

You nodded.

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

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

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

You smiled. “They sound fun.”

“They are.”

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

Jake raised a brow. “How old?”

“Seventeen.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh? When?”

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

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

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

He chuckled. “Fair.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow. “Tequila? Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake shrugged. “Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon snorted. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

Good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was my last cigarette, you know.”

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

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

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

 “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is, until Heeseung showed up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Oh, shit.

His brain blanked for a beat, completely wiped clean.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes, but smiled fondly nonetheless.

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

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

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

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

Until–

“Boo.”

You screamed. Loud.

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

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

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

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

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

“You loomed!”

He snorted. “I stood there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still giggling, you started walking toward the exit together. 

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted. “So, you’re lazy.”

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

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

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

“Sure you do.”

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

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

Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “You should.” 

You shoved his shoulder, laughing again.

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

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

Huh.

You should’ve let go.

Neither of you did.

“Yo, lovebirds!”

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

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

Your stomach dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. “Telling you what?”

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

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

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

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

You choked. “Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

You smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

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

“Yes!”

“Then what are you?”

Your mouth opened. Then closed.

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

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

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

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

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

You snapped your head toward him. “Jake.”

He just smirked and you hit him again.

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

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

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

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

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

Your stomach dropped. You glanced down.

…Shit.

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

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

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

Heeseung and Jay just stared at you.

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

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

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

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

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

Jake scoffed. “Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

Jake groaned. “You guys suck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake groaned. "You both suck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your jaw dropped. “Jake!”

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

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

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

“Hey!”, you protested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake blinked. “Well, you got me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His stomach dropped. Shit.

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Jakey.”

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

His uncle looked very amused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake stiffened. Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake shook his head but let you pull him along.

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

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

“Yo, Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Which is a while,” K shot back.

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

You shook your head with a small smile. 

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

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

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

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

Jake scoffed from beside you. “Same.”

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

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

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

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

You laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The second throw knocked over a single bottle.

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

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

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

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

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

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, take her.”

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

At some point, Jake paused, squinting at you.

“What?” you asked, mid-bite.

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

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

You froze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh if she only knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The silence stretched between you until the next gondola arrived.

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re watching,” Jake muttered.

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

Jake blinked. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

Your heart gave an unexpected lurch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brain still felt scrambled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay grinned. “Yes, actually.”

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

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

Jay smirked proudly. “You’re welcome.”

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

Sunghoon squinted. “Do you like her?”

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

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

“And the kiss?”

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

“What about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jakeyboy Are you awake?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” he added quietly, almost to himself, as if he was blaming himself for not being there for you sooner. You felt your heart soften at his words, and you smiled faintly, squeezing his hand back. "Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, Jake." You paused for a moment, then added with a light chuckle, “Besides, I'm not a delicate little thing. I’m fine." Jake sighed, his hand resting on his lap now, still close to yours. “I just... I hate that you went through all that. You didn’t deserve any of it. You deserve better.” His voice softened and you could feel those traitors in your stomach. Those stupid little butterflies whose only goal was to make you unhappy. "It's fine. Really. I didn't tell you this to make you worry about me. I just wanted to show you that you haven't missed out by not feeling all the things people feel when they are in love. Most of the time those nice feelings disappear and not so nice ones take their place. You were spared by not being in love with Sophia.", you chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder again. Trying to ignore your butterflies and all those things people feel when they were in love. You couldn't fall for Jake. You never wanted to feel the pain you felt when you saw Marcus and Sophia in his bed and everything that came after ever again.

The bar the team was celebrating their win in was busy, but not unbearably so. It wasn’t loud enough to be overwhelming, but still just enough to make your head ache slightly.  You sat next to Jake in your usual spot, both of you nursing beers, though neither of you were drinking fast enough to actually feel it. His arm rested lazily around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against your sweater. You leaned into his side, letting his warmth seep into you, but it didn’t do much to shake the heaviness pressing down on you. Your mind kept drifting back to earlier in the day. You had been fine during the lab, steady hands and a clear mind as you did what had to be done. It was routine, nothing you hadn’t done before. Usually, you could detach. Today, you couldn’t. You and four other students were working on the body with respect and professionality. But as you peeled back the skin and bone, carefully exposing the delicate folds of the young boys brain, you felt nauseous. 

Jake shifted beside you. “You good?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear over the bar noise. You exhaled through your nose, nodding automatically. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” Jake studied your face for a second longer. You gave him a weak smile and his fingers pausing against your shoulder. He squeezed your arm gently before taking another sip of his drink.

You were half heartedly listening and laughing along to what Beomgyu was telling Jake but your thoughts were still elsewhere. You knew the profession you chose was gruesome. Your parents had tried to prepare you for it, making you sit through forensic classes, pushing you to talk to actual forensic anthropologists, hoping you’d reconsider. But you were stubborn. You applied to every university that offered a forensic anthropology major, determined to prove that this was what you wanted.  And it was. You loved it. All of it. Well, almost all of it. Because sometimes, especially when you were handling kids, or what was left of them, you were forced to remember exactly what you were doing. Those young boys and girls, long gone, their skin cold, the smell of formaldehyde replacing what should’ve been Axe body spray or cheap drugstore perfume. Faces stripped of emotion, of laughter, of life. They had futures, or at least, they should have. They should have had years ahead of them, chances to grow up, to fall in love, to make mistakes. But instead, a single accident, an illness, or worse, a person had taken that from them. 

It made you appreciate your own life more. Made you hyper-aware of how fragile it all was. And yet, what were you doing with that awareness? You were fake dating someone. To appease his father.

In some way, weren’t you just wasting his time? Wasting your own? Time that could be spent with someone who would actually be there in the long run. Someone to grow old with. To adopt a real Sir Fluffington the Third, to plan holidays, to talk about kids, to buy a home together. Someone to come home to. Someone to share the weight of days like this. Your brain, unprompted and entirely unhelpful, supplied you with a picture. Jake. Or rather, an older version of him. The thought startled you, so sudden and so vivid that you nearly flinched.

Jake?

Why was it Jake?

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he laughed at whatever Beomgyu had just said. He wasn’t yours. He wasn’t meant to be yours. And yet, your brain had conjured up a version of him standing in a kitchen with you, handing you a mug of coffee in the morning, smiling at you like you were his favorite thing in the world. You shook the thought off. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything. You suddenly felt a bit like you were suffocating, the warmth of the bar, the buzz of conversation, even the way Jake was still absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve. “I’m gonna go for a smoke,” you murmured, barely loud enough for Jake to hear over the bar’s noise.

Jake glanced down at you immediately. “Want me to come with you?” You shook your head. “No, it’s fine.” His brows pulled together, just for a second, before smoothing out again.  And because, apparently, this was a thing you did now, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. You weren’t sure when it had started, exactly. In the week since the kiss until now you and Jake really leaned into the whole couply stuff, being a bit more touchy with each other. He was always touching you in some way, his arm around your waist, his hand on your lower back, his fingers brushing against yours absentmindedly. It was all too easy to let yourself get used to it.

Maybe it was necessary, given that in just two weeks, you’d be standing beside him at that god forsaken wedding, playing the part of a couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. To get his father off his case and to give a huge fuck you to your exes. You really hated his father. That man didn’t deserve Jake's respect and you have told Jake as much. since that one conversion at the GS25 you never missed any of his games. You send  him stupid memes or small messages to motivate him to win, to show him you were there to support him. And it worked until now. Not a single game lost. You’ve bought him so much food and pastries as congratulation gifts that you were glad he did as much sport as he did. Else he would probably be a bit round.  

But right now, you needed some distance. You needed air. And you needed a cigarette. Jake hated to see you smoking. So before he could change his mind and follow, before you could second-guess yourself, you turned and slipped outside. The night air was crisp, cutting through the warmth that still clung to your skin from inside the bar. You tilted your head back, staring at the sky, letting your eyes trace the constellations.

Life was so fucking fragile. You had known that for a long time, logically, clinically. It was something you studied, something you understood down to the very bones of it.  But today, it felt different. Today, you peeled back a boy’s forehead, carefully extracted the thing that made him who he was, and for the first time in a long time, it had rattled you. It made you want to scream. Because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that someone so small, so young, could just be… gone. Reduced to an object on a table. A case file. A lesson. Your fingers twitched as you pulled a cigarette from your pocket, lighting it with practiced ease. The first inhale burned. It didn’t fix anything, didn’t quiet the thoughts clawing at your mind, but for a fleeting moment, it gave you something to focus on. The nicotine settled in your system, a dull sort of relief, just enough to take the edge off.

You needed to quit. You knew that. You had been saying it for years, but every time you thought about stopping, you hesitated. The craving wasn’t even the worst part. It was the way the cigarette felt like a pause button, a moment of stillness in the middle of everything. It was a shitty habit, and Jake hated it. He made that clear every time he caught you. You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl toward the stars.

“You know he hates it when you do that.” The voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see Jay stepping outside, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Your heart was still beating a little too fast from the surprise, but you scoffed, bringing the cigarette back to your lips. “You gonna give me shit about it too?” Jay shrugged, finally turning his gaze to you. “Nah. Just an observation.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, well. He’ll live.” Jay hummed, stepping closer. He leaned against the wall beside you, his eyes searching your face. “You’re quiet today.” You hesitated. The cigarette burned between your fingers, the nicotine was already settling into your bloodstream. You forced a small smile, tilting your head slightly as you took another drag.  “Just tired,” you said. “Long day.” You flicked the ash onto the pavement, watching it disappear into the cracks. 

Jay didn’t look convinced. His eyes lingered on your face, searching, and for a second, you thought he might call you out on the obvious deflection. It was annoying how good he was at reading people. At reading you. “Y/N-” “I’m fine, Jay,” you interrupted gently, offering him a softer smile this time. “Really.” He didn’t move, didn’t say anything right away. Over the last two months you had gotten close to Jay, through all the hours spent at the rink, at team dinners, at their dorm, at bars just like this one. And somewhere along the way, between all the forced proximity and the nights spent orbiting the same friend group, you and Jay had grown close too. Not in the same way you were with Jake, but close enough that he could read you just as well. Maybe even better.

That was the problem. Jay studied you, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. “Did you tell Jake?” You exhaled, watching the smoke curl upward, disappearing into the night. “No,” you admitted, flicking ash onto the pavement. Jay made a sound, something between disbelief and exasperation. “Dude.” You sighed, bracing yourself. “I don’t want to worry him." Jay let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. ���That’s not how this works, Y/N.”

You glanced at him, catching the way his brows had pulled together, the tension in his jaw. He wasn’t angry, Jay never really got angry, but he was frustrated. You’ve spent almost a whole night talking to him, when the two of you decided to stay sober and watch over your friends. You told him there that you really hated doing that. Worrying people with your problems. Life was too short to worry, especially over problems that aren’t your own. “I’m fine,” you said, lighter this time, as if saying it enough would make it true. Jay’s gaze didn’t waver. “You don’t have to do that, you know.” “Do what?” “Pretend,” he said simply. “Not with me. Not with him. Especially not with Jake.” Something in your chest tightened, the words settling uncomfortably in your stomach. You swallowed, looking away. If Jay only knew. “It’s not a big deal.” Jay sighed again, lingering for another second like he wanted to say something else. But then he just shook his head and pushed off the wall. “Try not to take the whole pack down with you,” he muttered as he turned toward the door. You let out a quiet laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No promises.”

And then he was gone, the bar swallowing him whole. You stood there for another moment, the weight of his words pressing heavy against your ribs. And then, before you could stop yourself, you reached for another cigarette.

Jake was half-listening to Beomgyu and Soobin talking about a recent Eagles game when Jay slid back into their booth, leaning in close. “You need to talk to Y/N,” Jay murmured, voice low. “Something’s off with her. She wouldn’t tell me what’s up, so maybe you can use your boyfriend privileges to get her to talk?” Jake furrowed his brow, staring at Jay for a beat. He had noticed it too, how quiet you have been all night, how you lingered closer to him than usual. But he also knew you. He knew you hated worrying people with your problems. If he asked outright, you’d probably brush it off. You’d talk when you were ready. You always did. He figured something must have happened in the lab. Some cases were harder to stomach than others, and sometimes, the weight of what you learned stuck with you for a while. When that happened, you liked to process it alone.

But despite whatever was on your mind you still showed up for him. You always did. You had come to every home game for the past few weeks, watching from the stands like his own personal lucky charm. Jake hadn’t played a single bad game since you started watching. “I know,” he murmured, voice quieter than intended. “She’ll come to me if she wants to.” Jay didn’t say anything more. He just gave Jake a look that said he was doubting that and switched topic. A few minutes later, Jake flinched when cold fingers brushed against his arm. He turned quickly, half-hoping, half-knowing it was you. It was. You squeezed yourself back into the booth beside him, settling into your usual spot. Instinctively, his gaze swept over you.

You looked tired.

He felt bad that you were here. He knew Fridays were busy days for you. And yet, you still made time to come to his games and stick around for the post-game hangouts. The fact that you showed up, no matter how exhausted you were, meant more to him than he could put into words. When your eyes met his, something flickered across your face—an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “You good?” His voice came out softer than he meant, but it was the only thing he could think to say. You held his gaze for a second before offering a small, fleeting smile. “Yeah,” you murmured. “All good.”

Jake didn’t believe that for a second. But he didn’t push. Instead, he pulled you closer, tucking you against his side. His arm curled around your waist, holding you a little tighter than necessary. As Beomgyu and Jay started talking about an upcoming swim competition, Jake found his focus drifting. You shifted slightly in his hold, resting your head against his chest, and his thumb absently traced small patterns against your side. He took a slow breath and immediately scrunched his nose. The sharp scent of secondhand smoke clung to your hair.

He leaned forward slightly, lips almost brushing the shell of your ear. “You smell like smoke.” You sighed, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. There was something unreadable in your expression. Jake held your stare, his fingers tightening just slightly at your waist, trying to get you to stay here with him, to relax–even if just a little. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I was outside.”

Jake hummed, debating whether or not to scold you. He knew smoking wasn’t an everyday habit for you, but you tended to smoke whenever you were stressed or something was troubling you. He didn’t want to lecture you. Not right now. But then, before he could stop himself, his lips parted. “You should quit,” he said quietly. You looked away.  “I know,” you muttered, voice distant again. Jake exhaled softly, letting the moment settle. He wanted to say something else, to get you to open up, to tell him what was wrong, but before he could, Jay’s voice cut through the conversation again.

The night carried on, the noise of the bar a comfortable hum in the background, but Jake barely heard it. His focus had narrowed down to the warmth of you against his side, the way your body naturally leaned into his like it belonged there. Jay was saying something–laughing about something–but Jake wasn’t really listening. His attention flickered to you every few seconds, studying the way your fingers idly traced the rim of your glass, how you bit down on the inside of your cheek when you were lost in thought. Then the song changed. Finesse by Bruno Mars blasted through the speakers. The second the first beat hit, Jake felt his stomach twist. A chorus of cheers and drunken excitement filled the bar immediately, a wave of energy that swept through the room. It was a tradition, one that had been in place long before Jake joined the DA hockey team. Every time Finesse played, all the hockey players were expected to kiss their lovers. People made their way through the bar, searching for their partners.

"Fellas, grab your ladies if your lady fine." Jake’s grip tightened on your waist ever so slightly. It would probably look weird if he didn't kiss his girlfriend. He hesitated for only a second before he leaned in, letting his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “It’d be weird if I didn’t, right?” You barely had time to react before he leaned in, slow and careful, like he was giving you a chance to stop him. But you didn’t. And something in him faltered at the absence of any hesitation on your part. 

His nose grazed against yours for a brief moment before his lips met yours. Soft and deliberate. It was gentle at first, almost as if he asked for permission again, and when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it slightly. His body responded without thought, the tequila on his tongue mixing with the faint taste of your cigarette from earlier. His hand slid down from your jaw to your throat, feeling the soft pulse there.

You shivered, and fuck.  That reaction alone had something deep in him stirring. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy this as much as he did. And yet, the second you melted into him, Jake felt something he’d never felt before. His stomach flipped, his chest felt too tight, and for the first time in his life, he understood what people meant when they said a kiss could leave you breathless.

When his hand traced down the curve of your spine, when his fingertips barely skimmed your skin through your thin shirt and you shuddered beneath his touch, he felt a rush of something hot and heady curl low in his stomach. So he did it again. Slower this time. Letting his fingers linger, tracing back up, taking his time. Another shiver. Another sharp inhale. Jake felt a stupid, giddy grin threaten to break through. Butterflies. He actually felt fucking butterflies.  Every little thing he did, every touch, every movement–he could feel it in the way your body leaned into his, how your breath stuttered against his lips.

He was fascinated. Completely and utterly hooked on the way he could pull those reactions from you with barely any effort. That realization alone made something snap inside him. He slid his hand back up your spine, fingers pressing into the nape of your neck, and the way you shuddered again had his breath catching in his throat. You melted into him, and it felt too easy. Too good. 

God, he was an idiot. Jake pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. He could feel your breath against his lips. “Please stop smoking. It’ll kill you.” The words were out before he could stop them, and he immediately regretted saying it. The seriousness in his voice didn’t feel right for the moment, but he couldn't help himself. He hated that you smoked. You looked up at him, and for a brief second, he thought he saw something shift in your eyes, something that made his chest tighten. His hand, still on your waist, slowly lifted, and he gave you space to push him away. But you didn’t. Your gaze met his, and he found himself unable to look away.

Shit, this was all kinds of messed up. Jake’s heart raced. He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore, but he knew that in this moment, with your eyes locked on his, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be close to you, to feel the warmth of you, to drown out everything else in the world. Slowly, he lifted his hand again, this time cupping your jaw with his palm, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. His breath was shallow, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. 

His fingers curled at the nape of your neck, thumb grazing the edge of your jaw. He didn’t think. He just acted, pulling you into another kiss. He had kissed plenty of people before, but never once had it felt like this. Never once had it knocked the breath straight from his lungs, left his brain foggy and his chest aching with something unnameable. The kiss was slower. More deliberate. He kissed you like he wanted to learn you, like he wanted to savor every second, every movement of your lips against his. He deepened it just slightly, exhaling softly as he swallowed the small noise you made. 

You didn’t move away, didn’t push him off. Instead, you kissed him back just as slowly, just as deliberately. His thumb brushed your cheek again, slower this time, like he couldn’t help himself. And he really, really couldn’t. Your lips parted slightly, just enough for him to taste more of you, and fuck, he was done for. His chest felt too light, his stomach too full of something fluttery and warm. It was embarrassing, really. He was an athlete, a grown-ass man, and yet here he was, feeling like some love-struck kid who just got his first real kiss. He could’ve kept going. He wanted to keep going. His forehead rested against yours as he exhaled, trying to steady himself, trying to pull himself out of whatever the hell this was becoming.

Jake barely noticed Beomgyu approaching, barely heard whatever the hell his teammate was saying, because he was too busy trying to make sense of what just happened. Then, like nothing had happened, he was forced to turn away, to let go, to pretend. But even as the bar filled with noise again, even as he forced a grin and let himself fall back into easy conversation with Jay, the feeling of your lips still lingered against his. And worse? The breathless, giddy feeling still hadn’t left. And he knew, without a doubt, that he was in deep, deep trouble.

Your apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside and the occasional creak of the building. Your bed was cramped, barely big enough for the two of you, but that was the least of your concerns. The heat from Jake’s body pressed against your back, his arms around you pulling you into his warmth, but you couldn’t seem to shake the cold feeling that had settled deep in your chest. You had thought that after a long walk, after getting tucked into bed, maybe you’d be able to sleep. But sleep wasn’t coming tonight.  Your thoughts circled around that damn brain, the weight of it, the fragility of life, the way it had been so small and delicate in your gloved hands. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Kids weren’t supposed to die, to be handled like... like pieces of evidence. But that was what he had become.

This brain. The boy was someone. A person. Someone's son, someone's brother, someone's friend. He had been alive. He had thought and laughed and felt and dreamed, and now... nothing.  Jake shifted behind you, his breath warm on the back of your neck as he adjusted his position. His breathing had steadied out a while ago and you assumed he fell asleep. But his arm tightened around you, pulling you just a little close. "Hey," he murmured, his voice low and thick with sleep. "You okay?" You didn’t answer right away, pretending to be asleep. You couldn’t. You could barely hold back the tears that threatened to spill when you were on your own, but voicing out what was on your mind to Jake would surely open up the floodgates you called eyes. He was here so you wouldn’t do that, not to trigger you into doing so.

"Y/N," Jake said again, this time his voice was more awake, more alert. His hand slid up your arm, his fingers tracing the curve of your shoulder. "Talk to me." You sniffed once and blinked away a few tears. When Jake heard the noise he lifted himself onto his arm to look at you. You rolled onto your back, the tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the ceiling, unable to look at him. "I—" You swallowed, trying to keep it together, but your voice cracked. "I held his brain, Jake." You could barely say it out loud without choking on it. "His... brain. Like, the thing that makes him a person. The thing that... made him alive." You let out a shaky breath. "I can’t stop thinking about it. That’s all I’ve been thinking about. That... he was just a kid. And now he’s gone." Jake was quiet for a moment. But then his hand moved again, his fingers threading through your hair gently, and his breath was steady against your face as he leaned in close.

"I don’t know how you do what you do," Jake said softly, his voice low but filled with a quiet admiration that took you by surprise. "But I know it’s not easy. And you don’t have to carry all that by yourself, Y/N." "How am I supposed to do this?" you whispered, voice barely above a breath. "How do people deal with this? When you see something like that and you just feel so helpless?" You sniffed again and wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. “He was killed by multiple kicks to the brain. Who could do that to a child, Jake?” Jake paused, his hand now resting on your side. His thumb brushed against your ribcage in slow, comforting strokes. He didn’t have an answer right away, and you didn’t expect one. But after a moment, he spoke again, his voice quieter than before. "I don’t know," he admitted, and there was something so raw, so honest about the way he said it that it almost made you break right then and there. "I wish I did. I wish I could tell you that there’s a reason why those people do what they do, but… I can’t. I don’t think there is." His fingers curled slightly against your side. 

"But I know you," he continued, his voice steady. "And I know that if there’s anyone who can handle this, it’s you. And I know that doesn’t make it easier, but it makes it matter. You’re helping people. You’re making sure those kids get their justice." You let out a shaky breath, your eyes finally drifting to his. They were soft in the dim light, dark with something unreadable. You searched his face, taking in the way his brow was drawn slightly, the way his lips were parted. "I don’t feel strong right now," you whispered. Jake’s lips twitched, just barely. "That’s usually when you are." For a while, neither of you spoke. You just breathed, just laid there, his fingers still tracing absent patterns along your ribs, his body still warm against yours. He was right. It wouldn’t get easier but at least you could find answers for the families in mourning and justice for the victims. 

"Thanks," you murmured. Jake shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him again. "Anytime," he whispered, his voice full of warmth. Eventually, your eyes grew heavy, exhaustion creeping in despite the thoughts still spinning in your mind. Jake must have noticed, because his hand moved again, brushing a strand of hair from your face before settling back against your waist. "Get some sleep," he murmured. "I’m right here."

Jake didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He’d woken up in your bed that morning, your back pressed against his chest, your breathing slow and steady as you slept. He should’ve rolled away, should’ve put some space between you, but he didn’t. Instead, he’d let himself stay there for just a little longer, his arm still draped over your waist, his fingers twitching where they rested against your stomach. And that was the first red flag. Because this – whatever this was – was supposed to be fake. It was supposed to be a means to an end, a temporary fix for a problem that had nothing to do with the two of you actually being together. But that didn’t explain the way he’d felt when you asked him to stay over last night. Didn’t explain the way something in his chest had clenched when he saw those tears you tried to hide.

It sure as hell didn’t explain the way he’d kissed you yesterday. How the taste of your lips was so addictive, it was the only thing he could think about all evening. He hated the tinge of the leftover nicotine on your lips but he loved how you reciprocate his kiss, letting him deepen the kiss. The combination of tequila and cigarettes being almost as addictive as the funnel cake and cigarettes was a few weeks ago.  The second red flag was that he didn't want to let you go. Maybe he was being a little overbearing, but he didn’t care. You complained the whole way to his physio appointment, groaning about how you had actual work to do and how you had no interest in watching him get his shoulder prodded and stretched, but he ignored you. He just grabbed your hand and tugged you along, keeping a firm grip to make sure you didn’t slip away.

And honestly? He was glad he did. Because the second his physiotherapist started explaining something about muscle recovery, you perked up. You went from grumbling under your breath to engaging in an actual conversation about anatomical shit that went completely over his head. Something about tendons and ligaments and how the body compensated for injuries—he wasn’t sure. But you were smiling, and you were talking like you actually enjoyed yourself. Jake sat there, half in pain, half in awe, watching you chat with his therapist while he was forced through another round of exercises. “You’re way too enthusiastic about this,” he muttered between clenched teeth as he pushed through another painful stretch.

You just grinned, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall. “I just think it’s fascinating.” Jake shot you a glare that didn’t hold much weight, but deep down, he was relieved. He didn’t know if you were actually feeling better or just putting on a good front, but at least you weren’t curled up in bed, lost in your own head. That was a win. After physio, he didn’t give you a chance to slip away. He dragged you to lunch, steering you toward a small, homey restaurant owned by a sweet old woman who always snuck him extra food. “You literally didn’t have to make me come here,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him as you picked at your plate. “Didn’t I, though?” he shot back, stuffing a dumpling into his mouth. You rolled your eyes but kept eating, and Jake counted that as another win.

By the time you both made it to his dorm, you were still insisting that you needed to study. He glanced at you from where you sat at the other end of his couch, your laptop balanced on your lap as you tried to study.  "You’re staring.", your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, realizing that, yeah, he had been staring at you. Your eyes didn’t leave your screen, but he could see the ghost of a smirk playing at your lips. "You look like you're about to pass out from boredom," you added. Jake huffed, leaning over to shut your laptop. "Not bored. Just done watching you pretend to study." You glared at him, but there was no heat behind it. "Some of us have degrees to earn, Jakeyboy."

"Some of us also need to take a break before they burn out," he countered. You rolled your eyes but didn’t fight him when he tugged the laptop out of your grasp and set it on the coffee table. Instead, you shifted, pulling your legs up onto the couch and reaching for the blanket draped over the back. Jake barely hesitated before shifting, too, letting you settle against his side as he grabbed his phone again. And that was the third red flag. Because he wasn’t thinking about how fake this was supposed to be. He wasn’t thinking about how this wasn’t part of the plan. He was thinking about how easy it was to be with you like this, how natural it felt to have you curled up against him, warm and soft and real.

Jake swallowed hard, his grip tightening slightly around his phone as he forced his attention back to the screen. He scrolled aimlessly through TikTok, but it didn’t matter what he was looking at.  "You're quiet," you murmured, and he turned to see you watching him, brows drawn slightly. Jake forced a smirk. "Enjoying the peace while it lasts." You rolled your eyes, nudging his leg with your foot, but he didn’t miss the way your expression softened after a second. "You don’t have to babysit me, you know." He frowned. "I’m not–"

"You totally are," you interrupted, your voice light but pointed. "I’m fine, Jake. Really. This happens once in a while. You know I do work with some sad stuff." Jake studied you for a moment, and maybe you thought that would be enough to convince him, but it wasn’t. He could still hear your voice from last night, the way it cracked when you told him about that kid. He didn’t say anything, just shifted his arm so it was draped more securely around you, pulling you in just a little closer. And you let him. And that was the biggest red flag of all.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty

all feedback and reblogs is welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ if you liked this you might also like the rest of this series ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ taglist. @firstclassjaylee @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona @jaylvrsworld @xylatox @bluxjun @sumzysworld @outroherrr @50-husbands

ᝰ an. part two is in the works and will be coming soon! I hope you all are excited for some heavy angst and fluff nonetheless! I also hope that I didn't make any mistakes when I copy pasted the fic in here because I had to literally go scene by scene and edit every text block :,( ₊ ⊹  

[scoupsakakitty]

hiii i love all of your works! 😍 can I request a svtx14thmember, where the reader gets mobbed in the airport and how the members reacted and protected her during the situation. this would mean so muchhh, thank you! And Happy Carats Day! <33

Under Their Wings / Seventeen x 14thMember / angst

Y/N had never minded the crowds at the airport. After years of being in Seventeen, she had gotten used to flashing cameras, fans screaming their names, and the occasional chaos. But today felt different.

From the moment they landed back in Korea, the energy in the air was overwhelming. There were more people than usual, their voices blending into an indistinguishable roar. Security was there, but even they seemed to be struggling with the sheer number of fans and reporters pushing their way forward.

Seventeen was used to it. They had their usual formations, naturally gravitating toward each other, their practiced steps keeping them in sync. Y/N, as the 14th and youngest member, was always tucked safely between them. But today, the moment they stepped out of the terminal, something went wrong.

The crowd surged.

Y/N barely had time to react before hands reached for her, the pressure of bodies pushing her from every side. She stumbled, feeling herself being pulled away from the group. The warmth of her members was gone in an instant, swallowed by the chaos.

"Y/N!" Joshua’s voice cut through the noise, sharp with panic.

She tried to move, to reach for him, but the weight of the crowd pressed in, making it impossible. A hand grabbed at her arm, another at her backpack, yanking her in different directions. Her heart pounded. This was different from usual. This was too much.

And then—

A strong grip wrapped around her wrist.

"I got you." It was S.Coups.

Before she could even register his presence, he pulled her toward him, shielding her with his body as he maneuvered through the chaos. His other arm was up, blocking cameras from flashing directly in her face.

"Move! Give her space!" His voice was commanding, the leader in him coming out in full force.

But the crowd wasn’t relenting. If anything, they were getting more aggressive.

And then the others were there.

Hoshi and Jun pushed through first, their arms forming a protective barrier around her. Jun was murmuring something in Mandarin, his voice calm but firm, while Hoshi’s expression was fierce, his usual playfulness replaced with worry.

"She’s shaking," Jeonghan said, slipping through the gap and immediately placing a hand on her back. His usual soft demeanor was gone, replaced with cold anger. "We need to get her out of here. Now."

"Hyung, she almost fell," Dino’s voice came, tight with frustration. He had been right behind her, trying to reach her when the crowd surged. His fists clenched as he glared at the people still pushing forward.

Mingyu and Wonwoo, the tallest of them all, moved next. Mingyu placed himself directly in front of her, an immovable shield, while Wonwoo was at her side, his usually indifferent expression dark with irritation.

"Back off!" Mingyu barked, his deep voice cutting through the noise. He wasn’t often angry, but when he was, it was terrifying. The crowd hesitated for just a moment.

DK and Seungkwan flanked her other side, their arms lightly gripping her shoulders. DK, ever the sunshine, looked anything but happy, his jaw tight as he kept his body angled toward her. Seungkwan, usually one to handle the press with a smile, was scowling.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Woozi’s voice was softer, but the tension in it was unmistakable. He wasn’t physically shielding her, but his eyes were scanning every movement around them, making sure nothing else happened.

"I—" Y/N tried to speak, but the overwhelming feeling of everything—the noise, the pushing, the hands grabbing at her—was too much. She felt her throat tighten.

Vernon, who had been silent up until now, suddenly pressed a hand against the back of her head, tucking her against his shoulder.

"Breathe," he murmured. "Just breathe. We got you."

And she did. Inhale. Exhale. The warmth of her members surrounding her made the chaos feel more distant.

The security team finally got control, pushing the crowd back. It was only then that they managed to start moving forward.

Minghao was beside her now, his arm looped through hers, his presence grounding.

"This was worse than usual," he muttered, his voice edged with frustration. "What the hell happened?"

"Someone must’ve leaked our flight details," Jeonghan answered, his voice laced with annoyance. "That crowd wasn’t just normal fans. Some of them were just—" He shook his head.

"Crazy," Seungkwan finished for him.

They finally made it to their van, and as soon as the doors shut behind them, the weight of everything hit Y/N at once. She hadn’t realized how tightly she had been gripping onto S.Coups’ sleeve until he gently pried her fingers off.

"Hey," he said softly. "You’re safe now."

She exhaled shakily. "That was—" She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Joshua handed her a bottle of water while Woozi reached over, squeezing her hand once before letting go.

"You don’t have to talk about it now," Woozi said simply.

"But you do have to eat something when we get back," DK added. "No arguments."

"And rest," Minghao said firmly. "No scrolling online, either. I don’t want you seeing whatever videos are already going up."

Y/N nodded, but then winced slightly as she moved her wrist. She glanced down, noticing the red marks and scratches forming along her skin. A sasaeng had grabbed her hard at the beginning, their fingers digging into her wrist with enough force to leave bruises. The skin was already irritated, and she knew it would turn into a darker bruise soon.

"Y/N," S.Coups frowned, immediately noticing. "Who did that?"

"One of the guys in the crowd," she murmured. "He grabbed me pretty hard."

Jeonghan’s face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger. "If I ever see them—"

"Let’s get home first," Woozi interrupted, his voice tense. "We’ll put some ice on it."

Y/N nodded, still feeling a little overwhelmed. But as she looked around at the faces of the thirteen boys she called her family, the panic slowly faded.

They had her.

They always had her.

[freeluigihesbae]

𝓫𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼 - 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 6

(3,685 words)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

summary:

luigi fell in love with you for those sparkling eyes where his dreams of falling in love first came true. but how did it happen?

𝗍𝗐: 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗏 (𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽), 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗅𝗎, 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌), 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗅, 𝖭𝖮 𝖯𝖱𝖮𝖮𝖥𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦

~

"How can I do this?" You're crouched on the ground, trying to get through the next minute without feeling ridiculously guilty. It was harsh to shut the door on Luigi because your point went both ways.

Neither of you are hurting alone. You're both hurting because it impacted you both.

When you saw those texts, it tore at your happiness because you knew Luigi would be getting dragged too. You figured it was the same, and you were right, because you didn't know about how he punched the wall, screamed at the students, and stomped through the halls in reaction to everything that was going on.

For Luigi, all of this was representing a sense of immaturity that he hated. For you, you were just in pain.

But you loved him.

Upon checking your phone, you realize it's only been 15 minutes since you slammed the door closed. The raindrops will still slamming down on the pavement outside, akin to what you'd call torrential rainfall. After all the pain, the pettiness, the ridiculousness of it all paired with Luigi holding those flowers-

There is no way in hell you were going to lose the one chance of having someone right for you. You certainly made mistakes and honestly, how fair was it to keep twisting the knife in the flesh when the point has been made?

You stand up, wobbly but ignoring the feverish sensation pulsing throughout your body. Slowly, the irritations trying to claw at your energy seemed to melt away the more you think about Luigi.

Luigi Mangione.

The man who stole your heart the moment you stared at him with your glossy eyes.

The man whose heart you stole the moment he looked at your glossy eyes.

The feeling is mutual.

You just had to be sure of it.

In the same clothes, drenched in the rain water that's making your skin itch, you open the door and step outside, determined to limp as fast as possible and give zero care to how idiotic you'd look trying to romantically visualize your intense pining for Luigi by making your way to his place.

But before any of that can happen, your heart breaks a little more than you possibly think it could.

Luigi was there the whole time, slid down on the ground and seemingly asleep, unbeknownst to the water that has made his clothes practically useless, as the t-shirt has now drenched to the point of showing his creamy skin that's breathing in and out with a wonderfully melancholy innocence.

The flowers have fallen over the steps up to your apartment, face down in the puddle that's likely pooled down in the grass. The bag, however, is still saddled to his hand, luckily protected because of its material.

"No no no no no, Lu." You drop to your knees, crying as you shake him hard. His body is jelly in your hands, moving side to side but showing no sign of solidifying in an effort to combat your movement. You hike a leg over him, sliding a hand underneath the side of his cheek that's stuck on the pavement, sobbing his name out repeatedly as you clasp his face and lower yours down.

You watch the water drops rapidly drip from his eyelashes, which are perfectly curved. It's splayed itself all over his cold, weak body as you curse at yourself, wondering how things got so horribly deteriorated to this point.

"Luigi I'm so s-sorry I'm so stupid-" You whisper towards the end of your apology, feeling lost with how you're going to fix the situation in front of you. He's breathing fine, but he just won't wake up no matter what you do.

You should be calling someone. What if he's just not okay?

But you're selfish. You can't help but scoop his head into your palm and let your teardrops only add to the streams of water that have been trailing his beautiful face the entire time, feeling ashamed to see the flowers that he picked out getting buried under mud and rainwater. You can't help but look at him and forget what has been happening so far, only wishing that he just looks back at your with those illuminating eyes and tell you he loves you as much you love him.

"L-Lu I'm so sorry. I'm sorry things h-have happened like this I j-just-" You pause, imagining that he's listening to you, before swallowing and continuing. "This is so stupid but I'm in love with you. Don't you get it I don't just love you I'm in love with you Luigi and everything that's happened is-is- I'm not going to let it come in the way of us but is it s-s-so stupid to think that you love me too?" Your straighten yourself out before draping your body over his, sobbing into the crook of his shoulder as you let the sobs racking your being present themselves as the best attempt of trying to wake him.

"Is it so stupid to think you're in love with me too?" You lift your head up and whisper into his ear, rolling your eyes at the thoughts flooding your mind, which keep wishing this was a situation that could be pulled straight from Beauty and the Beast or some other fairytale where just the right kiss or words would awaken him.

But you're left dumbfounded and heartbroken when Luigi is still peacefully breathing, giving you no reassurance that this situation could be fixed. You stare at him, swallowing and closing your eyes in defeat, before grabbing your phone to call someone. Your fingers are shaking as you trying to clean the water off of your phone, worsened by the water droplets coming out of your eyes and making everything harder.

You finally manage to find the campus emergency number, shaking as you press the number and the phone asks you to confirm your action. You gulp and close your eyes, sobbing harder with new waves of heartbreak as you press-

"Bambi." You feel a hard, steady hand wrapped around your wrist and it sends you into shock, your mouth agape as you let your phone slide out of your hand, lurching into his arms. You didn’t realize, but he was sitting upright, fully awake, now circling around your body as you cry into his chest, repeating apology after apology and looking back up at him.

With the same eyes that brought you two together in the first place.

“Oh bambi,” Luigi feels himself nearly pass out, seeing the way your eyes glistened and yet, he didn’t waste a moment before smashing his lips onto yours, smiling at the way that even in shock, you let him in.

The desire to taste was mutual.

Luigi’s tongue explores your mouth, sliding over your lips and back inside, never entirely detaching as you let out little gasps, fighting the confusion, arousal, desire, and pain all at once. It was a lot, but through all of it, the one thing that stood out was happiness.

“L-Lu.” You forcibly and reluctantly pull back from his lips, watching his expression morph into slight irritation which get the words tumbling from your lips quicker than you expect.

“I’m sorry I was so har-“ “No.” He says a single word that silences your coming apology, leaving you wide-eyed.

“I’m the one who has to fucking apologize, bambi. I should’ve been a man, holding you and comforting you and instead all I did was slap you like everyone else did. I am sorry. I am so sorry and as much as I love holding you,” you listen while noting how dangerously close his lips are on yours again. “I need to show it to you. Need you to let me make you feel like I’m sorry bambi.” His lips are upon yours once again, ravaging every sound and movement you make as you feel yourself shiver at the authority in his touch and tone.

You nod fervently as he kisses you, and it does the trick in making him pick you up, strong hands on either underside of your thigh which makes you yelp.

“L-Lu you’re s-sick we shouldn’t d-do this.” You grab his collar as he has you taut against the door, your own top having been soaked, making you shiver when it’s cold, cool surface sends shivers throughout your body. Luigi stops his ministrations, grabbing your chin with one hand to force your sight down to his.

“I’m the one who decides that bambi. I’m the one who’s g’nna do whatever I want as long as you want it. So tell me, d’ya want this?” His hand releases your chin, now moving ever-so-lightly down your neck and between your breasts, which make your back arch. He watches you whimper and close those beautiful eyes, before the residual tears in them run down your face as you nod.

He tuts in disapproval.

“Say it. Say that you want me to show you sorry I am bambi.” He orders it, really, for you to order him back but you can’t help but think the actual authority is his hands.

“Want it.” You breath it out, still squirming in his hold which gets harder when he grabs your neck, pulling it closer to his face.

“I said use your fucking words but to make a sentence.” Luigi slaps the side of your thigh, pinning you to the door with even greater pressure. The sting makes a little cry escape your lips. “Let them fall from those lips bambi. Let the words hiding behind those perfect, beautiful little doe eyes of yours free because those will be the last coherent words you’ll be saying for a while.” Luigi’s voice becomes impossibly deeper, warning you of the consequences that lie if you dare to miss the chance to demand reparation from him.

So be it. Because you know you want him bad.

“I-I want you to show me how sorry you a-are Luigi.” You whimper the words out as coherently as possible and thankfully, that does it, because your door is wrenched open and slammed shut before you can comprehend the speed, and you’re (gently) placed on the bed, contrasted with the haste in which he’s once again kissing your lips, biting and pulling at them as if taste every inch that you have to offer.

“O-Oh.” Your moan is divine, sickly sweet to his ears as his own eyes nearly flutter from how angelic and dirty it sounds, the paradox sending his philosophical mind into dizzy circles as he repeats his actions, letting his hands dig into every nook and corner of your skin.

“’M sorry bambi.” He mutters these words before ripping your soaked top off, earning a soul-deep gasp that makes the blood rush between your legs. His eyes are trained on yours, smirking as he watches the confusion and desire swirl your eyes.

“Y’know why I call you bambi?” Luigi is kneeling on the bed, between your outstretched legs that are limp over the top his thighs on either side. He takes his shirt off, displaying his toned abdomen for you to feast on but you remember his question.

His hands are on you in an instant, but this time, they both press down around your windpipe.

“Need to answer. F’ckin’ use your words bambi because I’m desperate to hear you.” There’s a pleading so obviously and desperately aching in his voice, that your eyes widen further because how is he exerting so much control while submitting his guilt to your dirty and nasty desires? You nod your head, opening your lips to get a word out but he’s crushing you harder, tightening with every second.

“It’s ‘cause of those eyes. The way your eyes are goin’ all wide on me ‘n you’re so lost?” He ends his tone rhetorically, cooing as your eyes roll from the lack of air. He lets go before watching you cough and you breathily let your words out.

“D-Didn’t know that.” You let out an ah almost immediately after, tilting your had back before his hand is in your hair, pulling you up towards him.

“Keep those eyes on me. I need to see those bambi eyes while I’m saying sorry.” His hands grab a pillow to support your neck so you can obey his wish, whispering a yes after he speaks. His fingers then travel to your breasts, pulling at the buds without any mercy. It’s hard, as you try but you can’t help but arch your neck back, trying to get away from the pain that’s also making your core even more wet.

“’Said don’t fuckin’ take your eyes away.” Luigi pulls particularly hard and you scream, gasping for air as you attempt to close your legs but no, his hands are coming down, pinning them to the bed as your bottom lip quivers and he bends down, speaking filth into your face.

“Want you to see how sorry I am. That means you take everything I give you baby. Y’ understand?” Luigi asks and you respond.

“Y-Yes Lu.” You gulp and he watches, noting how your throat slightly expands and contracts at the saliva you’re swallowing down, making him breath in hard as his own pants are straining against his cock.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl.” Upon which, gets to work, letting his mouth go slack as he sucks on the sensitive breasts that are shaking, side-to-side with the aggression he exerts which prompt him to always keep a free hand on the one his mouth is not on. Your eyes flutter but you try your very best to keep them on his curly hair and smooth forehead, which are in constant movement as he sends waves of pleasure through your body. You bite your lip, almost sure you’re drawing blood.

“You f-feel so good.” Your voice goes higher because he just happen to place a finger under your skirt, making small circles that elicit beautifully inspiring whimpers, that only drive his fantasies further.

“Do I? I’m g’nna make you feel better bambi ‘cause I’m so sorry.” Luigi bites down on a bud that makes your teeth dig into your lip and you feel a drop of blood tickling you as it slides down your neck. Luigi raises his eyebrows before sticking his tongue out, licking a thick, moist stripe up your neck and jaw to swallow it. His fingers are now rubbing faster on your clit and you wiggle, wanting more friction.

“Keep track of how many times I saw I’m sorry. If you remember correctly,” Luigi gives your cunt a hard slap that makes you shake, making him smile in satisfaction. “I’ll let you cum. But if not, we’re g’nna do this all over again until you get it right ‘cause if not, it means you don’t get how sorry I am.” He takes the liberty to slap your face, just enough to get his point across.

“F-Fuck.” You moan out while you feel your skirt being tugged off with care, Luigi taking his time while it rides over your cast and once it’s off, he takes one hand to pull your gusset to the side before using his other arm to circle your waist and tug your legs over your shoulder.

He stares, licking his lips at how glorifying your wetness is, watching your entrance clench and unclench in anticipation.

“Oh bambi,” He leans in closer, keeping his eyes trained while you whine and stare at his narrowed, darkened eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Count one, because after that, his lips are devouring your sensitive cunt, licking and lapping up the juices that you produce as you throw your head back and attempt to grab his hair, which prompts him to quickly shift his position and give you better access.

Which he does all without detaching his sticky lips from your cunt.

“’M fuckin’ sorry. You got that?” His speaking against your folds, feeling the way you tighten before sticking a single finger inside and pumping you. “’Fuckin’ sorry ‘cause I’m an idiot right? Jus’ a fuckin’ idiot.” He keeps up, pulling the hood of your sensitive spot back and narrowing his lips on it, making you shiver and cry from pleasure. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot. Say it.” He commands you while licking around the dub, watching your eyes widen a little more every time. It invigorates his already frenzy-filled mind.

“L-Lu- f-f-f-“ “Say I’m a fuckin’” He pauses before biting the spot and you let out a drawn out cry, panting as it sends you just a few seconds away from your orgasm and you cry it out.

“Y-You’re a fuckin’ IDIOT L-Lu y’r so f’ckin’ dumb oh FUCK!” He pumps in a few more fingers with impossible speed and sucks even harder, which sends your orgasm to literally crash into you and down between your legs as you shake and squirm at how skillfully he continues to assault your cunt, desperately trying to get away but his firm, unrelenting hands keep you right in place.

“You’re going to take it because I am sorry.” But he lets go, lifting himself up and lowering himself down onto your lips, forcing you to taste his essence as you gift him with high-pitched little whimpers that drive him insane.

“I love you so much. Love your eyes. Love your body. Love how innocent and fuckin’ adorable you are. It’s all in those eyes.” And you think he’ll give you a break, a moment to re-coop. But no.

Actually, you’re the one who can’t wait.

You push yourself up, yanking his belt and button off which Luigi complements, before letting his length free and your mouth water, going down to taste but the hand in your hair again lets you know better, pulling you back to tell you better as he speaks.

“I’m gonna make you feel good bambi, not the other way around. On your tummy.” He lets go but you’re still looking up at him, whimpering from how overwhelming this situation is.

Suddenly, your cheek stings because he just slapped you.

“Said on your tummy pretty girl.” And instead of waiting for you, he grabs your waist and spins you around before using a palm to shove your head into the bed and ripping (once again) your panties off, before plunging himself straight inside and you scream.

Your words, ones that you wanted to scream, practically dissolve as you feel yourself becoming consumed by the exponentially increasing pleasure that pounds throughout your body.

“So sorry baby. Gonna pound you so you remember that, m’kay?” He asks you carelessly, groaning himself as he tries to fight how tightly you’re clenching around him.

Eventually, he makes his way inside, entirely claiming your sanity and ramming inside, repeating words of how he loves and adores you, rambling on about how your eyes remind him of galaxies but it all comes to a point when he’s letting his hands rain down on your ass, making your sychonized ngh ngh ngh noises get out of hand and irrationally out of pattern.

“I fucking love you bambi. I heard you. Heard you ‘cause I’m in love with you too.” He pulls you even tighter against him and you’re absolutely sure he’s bruised your cervix, panting as the sensations drive you crazy.

“Oh L-Luigi I love you- g’nna- AH!” He delivers a particularly hard slap and it makes you lurch forward, making him pull you back by his hand, which is eventually replaced by his bicep, flexing to make it harder to breathe.

He’s got you in a chokehold.

“How many times did I say ‘m sorry bambi? Hm? How many c’mon.” He takes his hand on your waist to slap you clit, making you pant harder as his biceps flex and tighten your neck.

“F-Five.” In truth, you actually guess, but he ends up humming, groaning with even more intensity because he drills into you faster and before you know, you’re babbling out words to beg him.

“Lemme cum lemme cum-“ And Luigi only squeezes harder, fucking up into you as he whispers in your ear.

“You’re the princess t’night. Cum for me.” And that does it, as you sob out from overstimulation because of his fingers rubbing incessantly over that pleasurable spot and his hand is retracted, letting you fall forward and support yourself on your arms.

He flips you around gently, lying you down on the bed before lying down next to you and tugging the sheets up to cover you both.

You’re still breathing heavily, picking up the pieces of your shame before you’re staring back Luigi with adoration.

~

“I’m so sorry bambi. I really mean it. I didn’t want to speak to you that way because I was just so out of my head and-“ Luigi is cut off by your finger coming up to touch his lips.

“It’s okay Lu. It’s completely fine. Entirely okay.” You smile before scooching forward to kiss his lips and he reciprocates, going soft and simple unlike his demeanor from earlier. His hand circles your waist and drags you closer before you realize.

“You didn’t c-“ “Don’t want to.” He cuts you off and your eyebrows furrow.

“I only wanted to make you feel good bambi. That’s enough for me for this homecoming night.” He says and it takes you a few seconds before your eyes go wide.

“Wait. WAIT. Homecoming is like-“ You look at the clock and realize it’s an hour past 7, which means it’s started already.

“Yeah-“ Luigi scratches the back of his head. “I actually brought a dress and suit over so we could celebrate homecoming but-“ He stops and you lean forward incredulously.

“But we could go out and celebrate ourselves.” He adds and somehow, you still don’t get it.

“Alone.” He supplies again and your mouth goes wide, shocked. But at the same time, it doesn’t seem like too bad of a proposal.

You stare at Luigi and at a loss of words, only lean down to kiss him again before pulling apart.

“I’d love that Lu.”

~

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⋆｡˚୨My extraterrestrials experiences after shifting୧˚｡⋆

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extraterrestrials- "They are beings or life forms that originate from outside Earth, typically from other planets, moons, or even different galaxies."

Okay apparently they are Aliens and not Spirits or ghosts( That was my mistake, but I lowkey still think they are spirits.. atleast through my experiences)

One thing that surprised me was that extraterrestrials exist, it was one thing no one would convince me were real because it didn't make sense to me in anywayyy, I couldn't fathom how they were other beings like with flesh that existed with us but it changed after I first discovered shifting.

I'll mention 6 of them because there are honestly alot I could write a whole ass 20 pages and I'm not even kidding.

I WILL BE REFERING TO THEM AS "IT" or "THEY" BECAUSE I DON'T THINK THEY HAVE GENDERS.... well I honestly couldn't tell.

I assigned them names because why not, except from one who already had a name.

LONG POST AHEAD‼️

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Lina☾

I first met Lina when I 1st astral projected for the 1st time, I kid you not I was scared asf. And its understandable because I was still beleving that spirits and demons are scary and that I am going to die if I ever meet one. Lets just say I screamed myself back into my body and started going to church again😃. We met again after 2years because I was so scared that I did not attempt anything spiritual for 2 whole years!!.

I tried astral projecting again and they came to me as soon as I was exploring outside my room. Again I was scared asf but I kept telling myself that I was safe and in control. I tried speaking to them at first but they was just staring at me and I was starting to get uncomfortable and I wanted to leave but I didn't know if it was going to attack me or not.

As I started to leave they talked to me, but it was telepathic because... okay first of all it had no mouth but I could hear its voice in my head. ( and I have to add that it had no normal voice but it was like static? that's the only way I can describe it.)

Anyway they asked me where I was going to which surprised me because...wtf why would they ask me where I'm going. I was legit scared and was finding a way to leave and it said something that shocked me that I even made a post abt it ( The post).

I didn't get to answer them and they disappeared and I was brought back to my body. I have never seen them again and I would lowkey want to just to show it how much I've improved now😂.

2. Areꕤ

I am so sure she is a female because of the aura that she was emitting to me felt so safe and cuddly.

I met her after my first time shifting. I still remember that feeling that I had of not wanting to go back to my cr but at the same time fearing that I might miss my parents if I decide to just stay here, I went to bed in my reality and said my safeword but instead of returning to my cr I went straight to the void. I didn't fully understand what the void was at that time so I assumed I was dreaming or something.

I suddenly started feeling my surroundings changed and I was in a field, I told myself that I was lucid but it didn't quite feel like I was in a lucid dream but I knew deep down that I said that because I didn't want to scare myself.

I suddenly had that feeling that I wasn't alone and when I looked to my right she was there literally close to me that I screamed a little. I moved away a bit and I remember feeling safe even though she had scared me. She was actually really helpful, because I kept asking questions after questions and even asked her if she's been to earth and she said yes but she didn't stay because of how low vibrational it was😭. One thing I will never forget is when I asked her If I should permashift or not because at that time I was so desperate to leave my cr but I was scared to leave my family and she said, "Reality belongs to you and only you, wherever you go your loved ones will also be there with you" I cried my eyes out lmao but it honestly changed the way I viewed permashifting. I still am planning to but I am now not in a hurry.

I have seen her again and I last saw her last year at around the time I was taking a break from shifting.

3.Beau𓇼

This one was interesting and kind of playful and I'm glad that I got to meet them after I had gotten rid of my fears.

They were in my Lucid dream and it appeared after I tried making a portal to shift to my WR. I was a bit frightened because it kept on changing forms? like it would change into my mom then my s/o then my teacher, it was honestly confusing and I asked them what they wanted and that's when it changed into its original form. Idk what to say to them and I assumed that maybe they were friends or atleast knew Are. But it didn't because it looked at me like I was crazy when I asked them about her.

Anyway I didn't really know what to do so I just kept on exploring the dream while they were following me around. I had a feeling that it was a child like around 9years in human age but who knows. they ended up scaring me awake tho😂.

Oh and I've never seen them again.

4.Slay⚘.

This is a recent and when I say it was kind of mean. And it was when I astral projected. The minute I opened my eyes it was in my room, ofc it scared the living shit out of me that I "ran" (not really) out of my room and it kept on following me, and I just screamed at it to leave me alone. And it did but I was scared that I just went back to my body 😭✋🏾

5. Doe༊·˚

Appeared to me while I was in my 80s reality and told me that they knew I was not from this reality ( the 80s one) and I was ofc shocked to my coreee because I thought they were going to prevent me from going back to my cr🤦🏽‍♀️.

They were a bit talkative, they were asking me alot of questions from why I shifted, to my life in my cr and I was lowkey skeptical that they wanted the info to take it to the government( The movies that I've watched!!! Omg 😭) Anyway I was answering some questions and was also asking them some but they refused to answer some but they said that they approached me because they could tell that my soul had recently arrived there!!!, which was honestly fun to hear, like they can tell if someone shifted here!!?

Anyways I didn't see them again when I recently shifted to my 80s reality.

6.Yui♡

That was there name when I had asked. They came to me in a lucid dream as I was flying but they were impersonating my childhood friend. I easily noticed and told them to reveal its real form and they looked shocked that I easily found out, but at this point it was easy.

They refused and wanted to stay in that form and I was like okay, whatever makes you happy I guess. But I had a feeling that they wanted something because I honestly don't think they would approach you for the fun of it?

But yeah they continued to hang out around me which was weirding me out because it making me become aware that the place that I was... was in my mind, like it was making me become so aware I didn't like it and I woke myself up.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yeah I guess that's it ofc there are some that I didn't mention but I felt like these were the more interesting imo.

Shoutout to these beautiful people for asking me to make a post about it <3 ( @gonfreecs123) (@vwrtual )

I am happy to answer any questions you have🩷🩷

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