#it was a completely separate thing from his relationships with women

[tobiasdrake]

*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.

I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.

But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.

Katara

So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.

They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.

And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.

Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.

This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."

"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.

Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.

In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.

But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?

No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.

And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.

In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.

Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.

Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.

The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.

Suki

Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.

They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.

Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.

Yue

Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.

"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."

Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.

They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.

Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?

June

June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.

Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.

She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.

Kyoshi

And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"

She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.

Azula

Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.

There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.

This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.

They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.

This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.

Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.

Conclusion

The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.

Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.

But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.

The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.

"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."

The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.

[cryptfile]

⋆౨ৎ˚ ࣪ over the moon [ benedict bridgerton x wife!reader ]

summary — based on a request but went slightly off with it aka when your husband starts to stay up painting till late you start plotting a good plan to make him go to bed with you and actually rest instead.

warnings — pure fluff, since the rumors of sophie being latina sparked, personally went crazy with the information so it’s implied that reader is latina also, mentions of sex (nothing explicit,,, implied as part of a establish relationship).

side notes — English is not my first language, so if you find any mistakes i’m sorry in advance. this is for my latin girlies out here reading in tumblr, working extra hard to translate your works to bring new content to the page, tkm <3 reblogs, comments and likes are much appreciated,,,as brittany broski once said: i'm a benedict bridgerton believer, i'm a benedict bridgerton ally.

You really didn’t know what you were getting into when you accepted Benedict’s marriage proposal.

Nobody told you that loving an artist is a tricky thing, cause while you’re always giving Ben’s new ideas, you hate him at the same time when he’s at the art studio until late, painting as if the absence of light it’s not enough to separate him from the canvas.

God, it just drives you crazy. He lacks of a schedule so he’s able to keep on painting till the rays of light start to appear again in the window he leaves opened all night long, and you’re afraid he’s going to catch a cold if he continues with his bad habits.

It suddenly hits him, that inspiration he ends up being the victim of, kissing you quickly as he escapes so fast you aren’t able to say anything when he disappears leaving you alone, you tolerate it at first, but the second? The third? He's just testing your patience at this point.

Your marriage has never been a troubled one, your husband does not make you mad most of the time and you enjoy being in love, those little things that made your heart skip a beat. You enjoy talking to him at night, spend your day in his art room as he encourages you to keep on writing that mystery book you're so into lately, bickering about how unfair life is for women your age — Hell, woman of all ages.

You love the sound of his laugh when he's careless about everything else, when he admits he doesn't want to go that night's party cause he just wants to stay home and fuck you senseless, his way of seeing art and explain it to you as something totally opposite as what you really think it is.

Thing is, you choose to marry Benedict Bridgerton cause you're indeed, head over heels with him. You've fall for the charming smile and sassy attitude that made you finally settle after years of being called a spinster. He finds the way to intrude the walls of the maze that was your heart and managed to plant a flag in the middle of it when you're confident enough to talk to him, let alone be seen in public after all the rumors you've heard that he was looking for a wife that season.

Even when you try to avoid him, he makes you fall in no time, following you around like a lost puppy, going to your house to spend time with your family, convincing everyone he's desperate to try the food your nana makes, cause you've talked about how good it taste all the time.

It's almost like he tricked you into make you love him, to have you between the brushes dipped in a funny smell water. He has you hooked by the first months and soon after? God, he has no education when he makes you love him, how he obliges you to stain yourself with all the things he was his daily life mixed with yours functioning so well.

It's a thorn nailed in the palm of your hand, those moments of privacy when the moon evolves you and your lover completely that are now being taken away. It's selfish, surely it's something childish so you don't want to say anything to your friends, or even Daphne Basset when she visits you to have an afternoon of tea free from her kids, asking you about how everything's going days before you came up with this great idea.

You can take the matter by your hands, that's why the next time Benedict's painting at midnight your mind works like a machine.

After all the time together you happen to know him more than you know yourself, the things he enjoys what he dislikes the most — So it's not very hard to plot against your husband.

Benedict doesn't seem to hear you when you silently glide through the half-open door, unaware as the light of the candle lights is not enough to illuminate the whole room, the fire he kept close to the canvas he was currently working on. He looks handsome all concentrated. His brows furrowed as he takes the pigments with his bare hands and mix them in his wood palette to get that exact color he was looking for. A shade of pink for a piece he hasn't shown you officially yet.

"What are you doing up so late?" you ask coyly when you are close to him, hearing how his breath hitched for a second before noticing it's you, your hands coming from behind just to intrude in his space close to the easel. He's taller than you, but it doesn't stop you from standing in your tiptoes, pressing your cheek against the crook of his neck as you hugged him.

You cannot hide that you're tired. You lost the track of time when you got out of bed, so when you have your husband close and finally smell that nice and subtle aroma he carries with him, you relax in his back, the sound of his heartbeat loud against your ear.

"You scared me for a second," he says with a grin, muscles relaxing under your touch. "Didn't hear you coming in."

He has dry paint on his neck, so while you're cleaning his skin with one hand, he leans into you, back pressed against your chest seeking for your warmth, that contact he always seems to enjoy, your attention in all the ways he can get it.

“Bed’s cold without you” you say, fingers on his recently trimmed hair. "Done waiting for'you."

He has the nerve to laugh at your words, slowly at first, the sound of it making your skin shiver. He's going to defend his choices, you know it, and you hate how much you enjoy it, the way he always seems to find an excuse making you totally offended as you retort something equally ridiculous.

"Just thirty more minutes I promise," he says pressing a kiss in the palm of your hand he so gently grabs. "If you stay with me like this, can do the work in twenty."

"You can fool anyone else with that Ben, not buying it" to be honest, you're just trying to contradict everything he says, far from what you thought doing first when you plotted against him. "You said the same last week, amor. Not falling for any more lies."

"Not falling huh?" he asks, lowering the wood palette to look at you, his eyes meeting yours when you're so comfortable pressing your chin on his shoulder, looking at the painting he was doing — "You've learned the lesson then?"

"Twenty more minutes mean an hour in Benedict's language," he's the one that's now offended when his mouth opens in disbelief "Turns out I know my husband, and we both know that’s way more than twenty minutes.”

He loves it. It’s almost a secret, but he loves how you demand his company, the way you don’t fold against anything and you stand for what you believe. He loves how you claim to know him, your lavender smell filling every single space available in the room as he smiles happily in response. He was so unsure of marrying you at first, but now he doesn’t know what his life would look like without you in the picture.

“Ah, I’m guilty as charge” he says, his own hand going to his chest like it saddens him to hear you talk like that. “Thought you wanted me to paint more.”

You've been encouraging him to show his art to more people, a small gallery that displayed his talent, but that’s using your words for his advantage.

“You little bastard, that’s unfair coming from you.”

“Woah woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Kiss you even” you stick your tongue out, and he’s suddenly turning you around to place a kiss in your forehead, making you move in front of him instead — “You wouldn’t even imagine.”

Benedict’s a romantic. A poet at heart, so he doesn’t let any opportunity slip to show his affection, his infinite devotion to you. His heart flutters in his chest and suddenly he’s kissing you, staining your white nightgown with the fresh paint of his hands and not caring about it at the slightest. Kisses you like he missed you, like he didn’t see you the whole day when in reality you’ve spent all day in the same house, baking cookies cause you’ve suffered from a burst of love to the kitchen.

“You’re not convincing me” you say between kisses, hands pressing you closer to him. “I’m not leaving this room without you.”

He chuckles at your words — “Not even ten minutes?”

He’s devastatingly handsome in a way that makes you stare at him, wonder what you did to make him so interested in you, so attracted to the point he has to marry you.

"No Bridgerton. Ni diez minutos." To be honest, the accent just makes him go weak at the spot. It's pathetic, but he cannot help it, his brain melts at the sound of your voice, even if he doesn't understand much of what you're saying. "Let's go to bed."

You know it's a weapon, your lips are on his face, and he forgets about everything else: How he's supposed to continue on working when your lips are kissing every inch of his face? Seems like an impossible task now that his hands are on your waist and all he can notice are your pink lips, how you're looking at him through half-lidded eyes cause you're sleepy, an smile that eclipses the rest.

Benedict's no longer worried of his painting. Hell, he cannot seem to remember what shade of pink he was so invested in finding before, but he don't care at all when he's the one now leaning in, kissing you with fervent love as he traces the outline of your lips, almost asking for permission to invade you before deepening the contact, tangling his fingers in the strands of your hair cause he simply cannot get enough from you.

"Take me to bed then, my beautiful wife."

He does not protest next. He loves every second of it, the slight force, your gentle touch when your guiding him through the cottage you two share in Wiltshire, the goosebumps in his own skin when you managed to get what you want.

You win. It's a war that Benedict never intended to win, a disaster he knew it would end up with the result of him leaving his work half done cause he cannot resist to the idea of being tangled with you in such an intimate way. He sleeps so well with you on his arms, burying his head on your hair as he relaxes beneath the sheets, the contact of your skin enough to make him have the best night sleep.

Can he resist it? He's neck deep. Talked about it with his brothers before, drinking too much as the words slurred together and he admits how you got him wrapped around your finger, so in love he would do anything to please you, let alone have your full attention — They surely made fun of him, but is it his fault? Being so in love with his wife?

"Can't say no to you," he says defeated "You know it."

In the privacy of the room you two share, you're washing his hands with a wet cloth, preventing him from getting the sheets dirty before pulling his linen shirt to the floor. It's so quickly, he don't seem to realize what you're doing until he's already in bed, covered with the thick duvet as he searches for you.

He realizes now he should have listened to you before, cause his back is surely happy now that he's able to rest, the weariness of being standing so many hours now falling over him as his eyes began to close by themselves.

"When are you going to stop working so late?" You ask, pressing your cheek against his chest as you hugged him, getting closer to him even when you stole more than half of the bed in the process. The second son of the Bridgerton family does not say anything about it, but instead, enjoys how needy you are of his touch, how you want him around.

"Inspiration always come late, angel" he tries to defend himself as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe it’s a curse.”

"Then i’m afraid i’ll have to drag you to bed every night," you protest. "Cause i'm not letting you stay all night in that studio, crazy man."

"Miss me too much in bed?"

"Hm, what if I do?"

"Cannot blame you," Benedict admits later, using the only traces of force he has left to caress your hair, fingertips against your scalp in a gentle massage. "I'm always missing you when you're not around."

Your heart skips a beat: How could you not be head over heels with this man? He always find the right words, what to say exactly.

Gently, your face come up to press a soft kiss against his lips, a quick one that’s not enough for Benedict when he makes you stay in the same position as he steals a much longer one.

Life is simple with him by your side, you know it cause you might as well be over the moon when you’re alone with Benedict Bridgerton.

Every. single. day.

my masterlist.

[loveemagicpeace]

🏹Astrology Notes 🛼

People with many aspects of Neptune, especially Neptune Square North Node, can get into bad paths (alcohol, drugs...) many times they look for a solution by running away from problems. In life, they struggle with many difficult, incomprehensible, strange things. They may come across many people who deceive them.

Pluto opp chiron - can illustrate that you never really get over your traumas that were inflicted on you when you were little. Many times you can carry a swordsman's side inside you and never really let it go.

Mercury opp chiron- you have a hard time expressing or talking about your pain. It can often take a really long time to talk about what's bothering you.

Mercury conj Pluto- you can always be secretive about what you say. It could also be that a part of you is always hidden behind words.

The aspect of the moon and Saturn indicates the relationship the person has with his mother. People who have very strong aspects with the moon and saturn can be very attached to their mother and the mother has a great influence on them. It also shows that this person is not emotionally open and can always keep their feelings inside.

Dynamic aspects (opposition, square, inconjunction, semi-square) between Saturn and Jupiter indicate that a person can be full of hope at one moment and completely desperate at the next. These aspects are often associated with suicide. Because people can hardly bear such strong energy.

There are differences: Sagittarius is much more changeable than Jupiter, more freedom-loving and irresponsible. Sagittarius is less likely to symbolize the acquisition of material goods. Also, being a sign and therefore a less powerful symbol than a planet, it is less likely than Jupiter to operate at an excessive level. Sagittarius is less likely to signify waste, excess, or arrogance. Sagittarius gets along best with planets like Mars, Uranus, and the Sun, which are fast-moving, energetic, and not resistant to change.

Strongly emotional planets do not do well in Capricorn because the sign tends to repress emotion in favor of discipline. The Moon is particularly difficult here, because Capricorn will not allow the Moon to enjoy being dependent on others, a mode of relationship that is absolutely essential to the Moon’s functioning at some point in life. Venus is also not at its best, because its emotional criteria for choice are likely to be subordinated to practical criteria. Venus in Capricorn can also indicate an attraction to older persons who can serve as authority figures as well as lovers.

The Pisces symbol is two fishes swimming in opposite directions, and like Sagittarius and Gemini, Pisces is traditionally referred to as a dual sign. There are two types of Piscean: the advanced (Pisces as the last stage in the evolution of the archetypal ego or self) and the primitive (Pisces as the stage just prior to a new beginning in Aries).

Pluto in the 3rd house can represent a very strong bond with a sister. So separation with your sister can very difficult if you live far apart. You can create a beautiful and strong bond with your sister.

Mars in the 5th house indicates a difficult birth and problems with children. Children may be restless, aggressive or angry. It is important to look at aspects.

Jupiter in the 9th house often indicates good intuition and prophetic dreams. So it is important to remember your dreams.

Virgo rising people are so beautiful. I notice that women have beautiful faces and skin. Men, on the other hand, have well-developed eyes and bodies. I would say that virgins can have more beautiful beauty than technical ones in the subsign. Otherwise, it depends on where Mercury falls in the house, but still, their beauty is very naturally beautiful.

Moon in the third house indicates sensitive emotions and feelings. Moods change quickly.

The Moon in the fifth house indicates great success for children. Also a  person very dedicated to fun.

Moon in the sixth house can mean too much strain in terms of health. Lots of public contact. It can also mean insecurity and health problems in the first 7 years.

Mars in 7th house can mean that the individual is too open in relationships and dealings. It can also mean that he is jealous, intense and controlling.

Mars in the 11th house means you can be argumentative and want things your way. Many times the need for freedom is strong.

Mars in 12th house- the individual is interested in hidden things. You can join things that are secret. You like to work in the shadows. And you present your things when you are sure of them.

Uranus in the first house often shows that your personality is very unique and special. You have an energy that others find rare and interesting. You are a person who does not like drug treatment and prefers to find a different way (natural way of treatment). You want a job that is free and you don't like being controlled by others.

Uranus in the seventh house indicates premature engagement or marriage. It also means inharmonious relationships (if the aspects are not good). It also indicates a relationship in which one is ingenious and clever.

Uranus in ten house people are prone to emotional or physical loss through one parent. It is said that people with this position are also inclined to have two professions at the same time. It is important for women to check if her Uranus is in the 10th house of a man. Because this can indicate that the man is more focused on his career than her.

A person with mercury in the 9th house will always know at least 2 foreign languages, if not more. These people learn foreign languages very quickly and quickly understand others. They often prefer foreign languages.

Mars in Libra -A person can be quarrelsome and inharmonious. But it's not always like that. It depends on what aspects the person has. Person can be very passive aggressive and hides a lot of their energy. Many times they do something, but in reality they want something completely different. They can place the blame on others in many cases unless the person has Venus in good stabile sign.

Chart ruler of 8th house in 5th house -if it is  in bad aspects, it can indicate the possibility of miscarriage, loss of a child at birth or in youth.

Chart ruler  of 8th house in 8th house symbolizes benefit from the dead. Interest in immortality, spirituality. If the ruler is in an bad position then there can be problems with dying.

Chart ruler of the 9th house in 4th house travel is necessary for family matters. Property comes from relatives and partner.

Chart ruler of the 9th house in 6th house means handling due to travel. As well as good success abroad. If the aspects are in an unfavorable position, it can mean illness while traveling.

Chart ruler of the 9th house in 7th house means marriage in a foreign country or marriage with a foreigner. It often symbolizes a person living in another country. If it is in an unfavorable position, it may mean that relatives oppose the marriage.

The ruler of the 10th house in the 1st house- can mean a lot of ambition and talents. But it can mean loss due to father.

The ruler of the 10th house in the 6th house- symbolizes a humble position in society. Treatment can be an important part of an individual's life. If the aspects are bad, it can mean loss of career due to health.

Ruler of 10th house in 7th house- indicates benefit from public. Lawsuits are positive and marriage can bring fame.

Ruler of the 10th house in the 11th house - symbolizes the fulfillment of dreams. Strong and influential friends help the individual.

-Rebekah🧚🏻‍♀️🦋

[leonardcohenofficial]

there’s a great write up by someone on here that i will have to search for in which they discuss how the ultimate evil for david lynch is sexual violence against women (even more severe than murder, which is often auxiliary to that type of specific violence); twin peaks is incredibly soapy—on purpose! lynch and frost are playing with form and content on purpose to examine incredibly difficult subject matter through a (for lack of a better word) more palatable format—which most of the time i think works to its advantage and makes those moments of visible horror so much more effective (i use “visible” rather than “true” or other similar adjectives because the horror is always there, it’s embedded in the entire town, shows up in every generation we see in screen and we watch them grapple with it in different ways, but that’s a separate post)

however—and i’ve talked about this before—i find that once you’ve watched fire walk with me it is so much harder to watch the show because the ignorance of nearly every single member of the town (yes, including cooper) pervades the way the action unfolds. twin peaks viewers knew the premise of the show going in and we get to discover details and information alongside the characters. when albert rosenfield comes in as the only voice of reason and reality, it’s set up to be jarring to both the townspeople and to the viewer. why?

sheryl lee said in an interview, “fire walk with me was very difficult for me to watch… and, emotionally it’s a reminder: this is a movie, but this continues to happen every day and how can we stop it? when i watch fire walk with me now, as a mother, i watch it and i think look at all those signs that were being exhibited. this girl was in danger, and look at all these people that were in her life. what would have happened if someone, somewhere, somehow could have helped or stopped it? that’s hard to watch.”

much has been discussed critically about fire walk with me and whether or not it’s exploitative in the ways that it portrays sexual violence against women. while lynch does not shy away from making that violence visible, it is done so in an attempt to make the viewer examine their own relationship to that violence and how it shows up in their own lives. the audience is forced to think about the ways that they are complicit in how and why these violent acts occur and what they can do to stop it, which is why for many it is an uncomfortable watch. for others, it is a painful (and speaking from my own perspective) necessary watch because lynch didn’t make a horror movie, he made a documentary.

fire walk with me is necessary (in my humblest of opinions) to understand why the pieces that lynch and frost put into twin peaks work. there’s so much backstory to how they weren’t originally going to reveal who laura palmer’s killer was until ABC made them, lynch wasn’t around during much of the second season so things got a little off the rails storytelling-wise, etc. etc. but fire walk with me allows them to tie difficult, often horrifying threads (ben horne unknowingly attempting to have sex with his daughter, the townspeople’s distancing of albert, the hands of random townspeople trembling as BOB attempts to claw back into the material world, the list goes on and on) back to the central thesis of “sexual violence is the ultimate evil, it is completely avoidable, and you have a responsibility to recognize the signs and stop being complicit”

[jakeshands]

love me like you

pairing: sim jake x fem!reader

synopsis: who would’ve thought that a multitude of failed blind dates would lead you to fake dating jake sim? definitely not you. soon, you find out fake dating has its pros and cons. pros; you’re finally in a relationship, you have your own personal chauffeur, and your own personal study buddy. cons; you fall in love. what a mess.

genre: strangers to lovers, blind dating, fake dating, mutual pining, fluff and angst

featuring: enhypen, wonyoung of ive, yunjin of lsfm, ricky of zb1, soobin of txt

warnings: light angst, profanity, mentions of alcohol/consumption of alcohol, lots of kissing, mentions of death

word count: 25k

author’s note: look this got out of hand and idk how that happened. what was supposed to be under 20k turned into this mess. please ignore all the editing mistakes and if the story doesnt flow well/is choppy and some scenes feel out of place….just know i had to cut scenes out to post this fic. i couldnt post the whole 28k word fic for some weird reason so this is the edited version. please enjoy and lmk if u want to read the scenes i had to cut! anyway the reader is korean in this fic, just a heads up. u will see Why. um. thats it. and also if the ending feels rushed, that’s because It Is.

“Are you mansplaining to me?” You ask your date, a frown permanently sharpened onto your face. “Because, for the record, I know what a wage gap is. No need to explain it in a condescending way.”

You were excited about this date -- the fourth one your kind friend, and roommate, Wonyoung had set up for you. She had taken your inexperience in high school very personally and took it upon herself to get you to go on as many dates as possible. In her own words, “you’re at college! Time to let loose, girl!”

So; your first date went well, but it only ended in a friendship. Taehyun Kang was fun to talk to, but when the date came to an end the both of you agreed your relationship wouldn’t ever go further than a friendship, so you exchanged numbers, followed each other on TikTok, and began to send each other random, funny TikToks to each other.

Your second date showed up stoned. Ben was fun to talk to since he was stoned, and his answers to the questions you had to ask ten times were completely off-topic, but you still had an enjoyable time. Though, when the date ended you both went your separate ways. (Ben texted you within the following days. He invited you to a party. You then lost your virginity.)

Your third date was with a girl. Yuri Jo. She was pretty and funny, and she went on this date to make her crush jealous. You willingly helped Yuri out, and a week after your date, Yuri’s crush confessed to her. Yuri and you keep in touch over Instagram -- Yuri’s feed is just her and her girlfriend now, and you think it’s adorable.

This brings us to your fourth date; Soobin Choi. Anime enthusiast, takes Gender Studies as an elective course, and a professional mansplainer. When he showed up to the date, you felt yourself swoon over how handsome he looked. His smile was cute, and dimples were even cuter -- and then Soobin opened his mouth. The first red flag was the fact Soobin said he wasn’t a feminist, but women should be treated just as fairly as men. You told Soobin that was feminism and he shot you down. Then, for the better half of your date, Soobin mansplained many things to you; Anime, Maki Zeinin from Jujutsu Kaisen, and the wage gap.

“And I don’t think men should even be allowed to speak about Maki Zeinin. She is for the women. She is gay.”

Soobin harshly stabs his tiramisu as he listens to you. “Maki is-- Maki is not gay.” Soobin splutters. “Calling a character, whose sexuality hasn’t been explicitly revealed, gay is very --”

Huffing, you push back your chair and glare at Soobin. “Thank you for the date, Soobin but I think it’s time for me to go. I forgot I had fish to feed and a New Girl marathon to finish.”

“Fine,” sniffs Soobin, abandoning his tiramisu. “Let’s go split the payment.”

After splitting the pavement, you step out into the cold December air. Shivering, you draw your coat tighter around your torso and scan the streets around you. Soobin turns to you, and you brace yourself for whatever bullshit he was about to say.

“Would you like a ride home?” Soobin asks.

“No,” you answer without any hesitation.

“Are you sure? How else will you get home, then?”

“I can walk,” you respond coldly.

“Walk,” Soobin repeats, not believing your words. “Don’t be stupid, Y/N. Come on, let me take you home.”

Sighing, you give in. It was quite cold, and you weren’t sure you would be able to walk all the way home in the dark. “Fine.” You follow Soobin to his car, which is a car you expected from a college student; old, and barely working.

It takes a while for hot air to blow through the heaters, so you sit in the cold silence with Soobin for half of the ride back to your place. “How do you even know Wonyoung?” You ask Soobin, looking out the window and watching cars race past.

“I don’t know her, she’s just a friend of a friend,” Soobin answers.

“Why did you even agree to go on this date?”

Soobin shrugs. “Post-grad is lonely.”

Finally, your dorm hall comes into view. You could practically hear New Girl calling to you. “Thank you for the ride home,” you tell Soobin.

“No problem. See you around?”

“Yeah,” you shut the door and immediately sprint into your dorm hall, aching for warmth over the chilly wind blowing violently through the air. Rushing past the kitchen and the common areas, you dash into the elevator that Ricky was holding open for you. You thank the platinum blond and rest against the elevator walls, fanning yourself.

In your pocket, your phone begins to buzz uncontrollably. Stifling your sigh, you pull out your phone and unlock it to see all of your friends active in the group chat.

yoon 💖

[1 video attachment]

WOAHHHHHHHHHH?????

apparently jake gave her chlamydia LMFAO

jiwon loml

throwing a red drink all over his white top..that’s gotta hurt lol

wony 👯

jake has chlamydia???

yoon 💖

idk.

the girl in the video mentions it tho. did u not watch it???

wony 👯

i did!!!!! i’m just surprised jake has chlamydia

baby hikaru

what’s so surprising abt it??

rei 🐥 🐥

jsut spliilt ramen everywhehere :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((:((((((((((((((((

The elevator door dings open and you step out, walking down the hall to your room. Your and Wonyoung’s names were proudly sketched onto the whiteboard outside of your room. Cats, courtesy of Jiwon, and hearts, courtesy of Rei were added on after you hung the whiteboard outside of the room when you first moved in.

Pushing open the door, Wonyoung lies on her bed, swinging her legs through the air as she smiles bashfully at her phone. “Welcome back, Y/N,” Wonyoung looks up from her phone and wiggles her eyebrows. “So? Did you kiss? Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend? Soobin’s really handsome, isn’t he?”

“He’s handsome,” you agree, shrugging off your coat. “But. He’s just not my type.”

Wonyoung groans, rolling onto her back. “No one is your type. What is your type?”

“Someone who doesn’t mansplain the wage gap to me,” you deadpan, crawling under your covers and staring up at the ceiling. “He said he wasn’t a feminist, yet he hopes that one day women can be treated just as fairly as men.”

Wonyoung snorts. “That sounds terrible.”

“It was terrible,” you groan, rolling onto your stomach and suffocating yourself with your pillow.

“Well, I’m out of options,” Wonyoung tells you. “My connections can only get me so far.”

“That’s okay,” you roll back onto your back and look over at Wonyoung. “I’m thinking, you know that section in the school’s magazine? Where they send two people on a blind date and then those two people write about the date for the magazine? I might sign up for that. It looks fun, and who knows, maybe I will find the love of my life! If not, I’ll just join dating apps.”

Wonyoung perks up, her eyes shining. “Oh my god! Yes!” She shifts to the edge of her bed. “You should one-hundred percent do it, Y/N. Apply for it now!” Wonyoung slips off her bed and steps over to her desk, grabbing her Macbook and flopping down onto your bed beside you.

With a pounding heart, you sign up for the blind date program. “I hope I get someone nice,” you tell Wonyoung as you click the apply button. “Someone I can at least have a conversation with.”

“Or someone you can get down and dirty with,” smirks Wonyoung, ignoring your glare. Her phone buzzes and you steal a glance at the notification. You gasp and whack Wonyoung on the shoulder when you see who has just texted her. “Sunghoon Park? Since when did you know Sunghoon Park?”

“I don’t,” Wonyoung says.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t know him,” but the blush spreading across her cheeks as she types back with a stupid smile on her face says otherwise.

Rolling your eyes, you pull out your phone to spill Wonyoung’s Sunghoon Secret to the groupchat. “I totally believe you, Wonyoung.”

—-

It’s been a week since you took a leap of faith and applied for the blind date program run by your university’s magazine. It’s been a week of you non-stop refreshing the top of your school email’s inbox. It’s been a week of Wonyoung constantly asking you if you had scored a blind date. It’s been a week of nothing but stress.

You slowly come to terms with the fact that you weren’t chosen -- it was like you were asking whoever it is that pairs two people together to search for a needle in a stack of needles. What needle were they supposed to be searching for in the first place? It’s all futile.

Though, when your inbox receives a new email on a Wednesday night, you can’t help but squeal. “Wonyoung!” You call out, waving your best friend over as you eagerly squirm on the armchair you were sitting on in the common room of your dormitory.

Congrats! You’ve been chosen…reads the email notification. Wonyoung eagerly badgers you to open the email, and without hesitation you do. A flood of information is revealed to you and Wonyoung -- your date was to happen on a Friday night. 6 PM. At the local restaurant that is an avid sponsor of your college’s football team, you and your date were to be gifted with a one-hundred-dollar voucher to cover the cost of your dinner.

“This is amazing, Y/N!” Wonyoung whispers to you in the dark, hours after you received the email. The time was creeping into the early morning of Thursday when Wonyoung whispered to you, the both of you unable to sleep because of the email you received confirming that you were going on another blind date this Friday.

Friday comes faster than you expected it to, and you were not prepared for what it brings you. As Murphy’s Law states; anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And it all starts with you sleeping through your 9 AM alarm. (For the first time ever.) You wake up with ten minutes to get dressed, eat, and race across campus to your first lecture of the day -- even worse, it was raining outside. Torrential rain.

It doesn’t get any better. At your first tutorial of the day, your tutor hands you back the essay you asked her to go over, and it’s covered in red marker with a comment saying this essay is a C. C plus at best. And you feel your knees give out. You race through lunch, grabbing hot chips from your dormitory’s lunch hall and re-reading the red-marked comments on your worst essay to date.

Your following lecture is canceled because your professor is sick, and then your last tutorial of the day is also canceled. You end up joining Wonyoung, Yoon, and Rei in one of the campus cafes, soothing your sorrows with apple juice bought from a vending machine.

“Enhypen’s throwing a party tomorrow,” Yoon says. “Should we go?”

“I’m down,” Rei shrugs. “I need to forget all about the assessments waiting for me back at my dorm.” Then, she nudged Wonyoung. “But I bet Wonyoung is eager to go. Her beau is in that frat.”

Wonyoung blushes hotly and tells Rei to shut the fuck up. You don’t have the energy in you to join in on Rei’s teasing.

When you reach your dorm after spending the rest of the afternoon elbow-deep in assessments in the campus library, you note the time. 5:30 PM. Didn’t you have something to do at 6? Then, you remember. The blind date. Fuck.

You throw open the tiny shared closet and rummage through all the clothes you and Wonyoung were able to stuff in here before investing in a couple of dressers. Every outfit you try on isn’t up to your, or Wonyoung’s standards, and by the time you’re done with your outfit and makeup, the clock reads 5:55 PM. You can’t take the bus now; you’re going to be super fucking late.

Bidding Wonyoung a hurried goodbye, you race into the common room and scout for a familiar face. As usual, Ricky was reclining sideways on one of the many couches, Uno cards in hand, and completely obliterating who he was playing with. (Bahiyyih, Dayeon, and Youngeun.)

“Ricky!” You call out, bounding over to the boy. “Could you drive me somewhere? Please? I’ll pay you!”

“Drive you? Where?” Ricky asks, placing a yellow six on top of the growing pile of Uno cards.

“Just.” You check the time on your phone. 5:57 PM. “Down the street. The Korean BBQ place.”

Ricky huffs. “Alright. Let me finish this game first, though.”

“Ricky --”

With a flourish, Ricky places his remaining red cards on top of the red card Youngeun placed down. The three girls all let scandalous gasps rip from their mouths and Ricky smirks proudly. “I won. I expect to see my essays finished by Friday.”

Ricky slips off the couch and pulls his keys out from his hoodie pocket, swinging them through the air. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

—-

“Thank you!” You shout at Ricky as you shut the car door harshly. You break into a run for the Korean BBQ place, already five minutes late. Your heart pounds insanely fast and it feels like you’re about to explode.

With your mind a mess, you don’t notice the large puddle in front of you until it’s too late. Cold water soaks your left foot, drenching your shoe and sock. Coming to an abrupt halt, you glance down, finally taking notice of the large puddle and you let various loud curses rip.

You don’t have time to figure out how to dry yourself, so you carry on to the barbeque place. Wrenching the door open and listening to the bell jingle harshly, you scan the room of people. You don’t even know who you’re looking for. A waitress appears in front of you, beaming. “Are you here for the blind date?”

You nod your head. “Great, I’ll take you over!” You trail after the waitress, cursing under your breath as your shoe squelches every few steps, and your feet grow colder every second you don’t stop to dry yourself. You bump into the waitress, realizing she has come to a stop. “I’ll return in a bit to take your orders. Enjoy!” And then the waitress disappears.

You see who your date is and it takes everything in you to not turn around and walk out of the restaurant.

Jake Sim sits in front of you, blond hair gleaming beneath the bright white restaurant lights. He glances up at you, holding his menu and you can easily tell he’s not impressed by you turning up to the date seven minutes late.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt, clumsily pulling out your chair and taking a seat opposite him. “I’m so sorry. Today’s been a totally shit day and -- sorry, I shouldn’t cuss. I didn’t mean to arrive late, I was super excited about this date, it’s just that my shit day --- fuck sorry. Sorry. My shit day got in the way of my time management and. I’m just. So sorry. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. I’m sorry for turning up late.”

Jake smiles. It’s a small smile, one that barely reaches his eyes. “It’s okay. We all have our days.”

“Right.”

You both lapse into awkward silence. “I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduce yourself awkwardly, fiddling with the salt packets on the table.

“Jake Sim,” Jake responds, but you already knew that -- you know Jake Sim well. He’s a part of Enhypen. A well-known, incredibly popular frat on your college’s campus. It’s a legacy frat -- sons of college alumni always get into that frat. There have been the odd students that got into Enhypen because of their connections, but it’s usually always legacies that pledge in. Enhypen is known for many things; the hot college students living in the house, the massive parties they throw almost every weekend, and Jay Park. Everyone who goes to your college knows Jay Park. It’s hard to not know Jay Park -- but that’s another story.

Jake Sim is undeniably handsome. Big, round, warm brown eyes, cute nose, full lips, and sharp cheekbones, he has it all. Jake Sim is also undeniably wealthy, and undeniably smart. Everyone knows Jake will graduate with honors and with the top marks in his class. Everyone knows Jake will be one of the best students to graduate from their university, he’s a once-in-a-generation student. His wealth is also very highly looked upon. His father owns many corporate businesses in America, and overseas (mostly South Korea.) And Jake, himself, has a trust fund and rumor has it the trust fund is in the millions. Jake’s father and mother are legacies of your college, so it’s not a surprise Jake got early admission, and also is a part of Enhypen.

“What year are you?” Jake asks.

“I’m a first year student. Majoring in Linguistics.”

Jake hums. “I'm in my third year. Physics major.”

“I always hated anything to do with math or science in high school,” you comment, picking up the menu in front of you. “I can’t imagine ever wanting to do college-level physics.”

“I hated anything to do with English in high school,” Jake responds. “I don’t know how people can do English-related courses in college. Where would a degree in Linguistics even take you?”

“Translating jobs,” you refuse to look at Jake, some sort of frustration boiling in your blood because of Jake’s offhand comment. “Maybe editing. I could also teach English to non-English speakers. What does Physics even offer to you after post-grad?”

“I could become a NASA employee,” Jake responds. “Which I hope to be after post-grad.”

You take a peek at Jake, who is already looking at you. You smile, but it’s not a warm smile nor does it reach your eyes. “I hope you become a NASA employee as well.”

A familiar waitress stops by, ready to take your orders. After she leaves, the awkward silence is overwhelming so you reach forward and take a sip of water from the glass in front of you. “So,” Jake speaks up after a few moments. “What do you do for fun, Y/N? What are your hobbies?”

Going on a date is a way to get to know each other, so you indulge in Jake’s question. “I like to read—a lot. I love going to libraries and spending hours in them, just flipping through books or taking a seat on a beanbag and reading. I also like just staying in and hanging out with my friends, playing board games is always fun. I don’t really like going out that much.”

Jake hums, and reaches for his own drink. It’s some kind of mocktail. “What about you?” You ask Jake. “What do you do for fun?”

You find out Jake’s the complete opposite of you. He likes to go out. He likes to play sports; basketball, football, soccer, rugby, cricket, baseball. He’s probably done every sport there is. He also likes to go fishing, which you find highly unenjoyable. He’s very active, he finds comfort in exercising. And more importantly, he enjoys a good party.

“Do you drink a lot?” You ask Jake.

“Depends on the day,” Jake answers. “Why do you ask?”

You shrug. “I’m just curious. I don’t drink that much. I do enjoy a bit of white wine here and there, though.”

The conversation between you and Jake seems stilted. You can’t find any common ground -- Jake doesn’t watch many TV shows and not a lot of K-dramas. He watches movies every now and then when he finds time in his busy schedule. “I’m busy almost every day of the week,” Jake explains. “I have football practice and debate club practice, and I handle the funds of our frat since I’m the treasurer. I also pick up tutoring jobs most days.” Even his music taste doesn’t match yours. Anything from Justin Bieber to AC/DC is what Jake enjoys. Different from your own taste.

“Do you know Taylor Swift?” You ask Jake.

“I know her song, Love Story,” Jake answers.

You drop the subject of music immediately.

The food arrives, and it’s awful. You take a bite of your food and immediately regret it because the food is chewy. Very chewy and it tastes severely undercooked. While Jake happily eats his food, you’re left with pushing your food around your plate because you don’t want to cause a scene. You don’t want to make some waitress’ day awful because of your complaints about undercooked food.

Jake gives you a look as he notices you haven’t touched your plate of food.

“I’m not hungry,” you tell Jake with a grin you hope placates Jake. He just shrugs and continues on eating. The silence is unbearable and your eyes begin to burn, which leads you to reprimand yourself -- why are you tearing up? You have no right to tear up. (Or maybe you do because this date is going badly. The awkward silence refuses to go away, and the more you talk with Jake, the more you realize how little you have in common with him.)

Jake finishes eating and there’s another five-minute silence. “Wanna go get ice cream?” Jake asks. His eyes beg you to say no and you want to say no, but instead, you say “Sure!”

You follow Jake up to the counter to pay, but of course, something bad just has to happen to you. A waitress passing by trips up and spills the red wine she was carrying all over your top. You stand there, fists clenched and blinking back your tears as the waitress apologizes profusely.

“It’s okay,” you assure the waitress, waving her away. “It’s okay.” (It wasn’t okay.)

“What happened?” Jake asks you after he finishes using the voucher to pay, noticing the large red stain on your white top.

“Red wine spillage. Let’s go get ice cream.” You step out of the restaurant and wait for Jake to lead you down the street to the nearby ice cream parlor.

On the way, you once again, don’t notice a large puddle until you’re stepping in it, completely soaking your right foot -- shoes, socks, and all. You groan loudly and shake your first threateningly up at the sky, wondering what you did to make this happen to you.

“You okay?” Jake asks you, frowning slightly.

“Yeah,” you respond, blushing when you realize Jake had been watching as you cursed at the sky above.

Entering the parlor, you search your pockets for your wallet. Your movements become increasingly frantic when you can’t find it and then it hits you -- you have left your wallet on your bedside table. Jake, increasingly perceptive, notices your troubled expression. “What’s up, Y/N?”

You sigh and hang your head, mumbling, “I forgot my wallet.”

“Hmm? What was that?”

“I forgot my wallet,” you repeat louder. The silence that follows is suffocating.

Jake sighs and when you look up, he doesn’t look impressed as he says, “I’ll pay.”

“No -- it’s okay. We don’t have to get ice cream. I don’t want you to pay,” You hold your hands out, your eyes wide and the tears burn your eyes once more.

“I’ll pay,” Jake repeats, more firmly this time. “Pick what flavor you want.”

“Mint chocolate,” you say without hesitation.

Jake makes a face. “You like mint chocolate?”

“It’s the best flavor.”

Jake shudders and shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

You step up to the counter, Jake gesturing for you to go first. “Can I have mint chocolate please?”

The girl behind the register smiles politely. “Sorry, we ran out of mint chocolate. Do you have another flavor you would like to try?”

You don’t know why, but that was your breaking point. You break out into sobs and the entire shop quietens, all eyes turning to you as you begin to sob at the mention of the shop having no mint chocolate ice cream. Without bothering to excuse yourself, you exit the store, sobbing louder as you stand outside in the cold with soaking wet feet, and a white top stained red.

You wonder why today of all days, the world decides to be cruel to you. Any other day would’ve been fine, but instead, on the day of your blind date with Jake Sim of all people, the world decides to unleash its fury on you.

The door slams shut behind you and you turn around, finding Jake standing in front of the entrance, a small paper cup full of ice cream in hand. You stare at him, unable to respond. Jake had still gotten ice cream, making sure to take his time, instead of coming out to check on you. Maybe you and Jake weren’t compatible in any way -- he was a T, after all, whereas you were an F.

“Jake, what the fuck--”

He steps closer, holding out the paper cup that had two spoons. You peer into the cup, seeing green ice cream with dots of occasional brown chocolate chips. Jake had gotten mint chocolate ice cream. You look at Jake, floundering for words.

“They had mint chocolate out back,” Jake informs you. “I told them to go get it.”

“You don't -- you don’t like mint chocolate though.”

Jake shrugs. “But you do. Here, you must be cold.” He slips off his jean jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. Instantly, you feel warm and the awful feeling that had manifested in your gut disappears. You wipe away your tears and take the unused wooden spoon, scooping up some mint chocolate ice cream and letting it melt in your mouth.

“Thank you, Jake,” you say softly. “How could I ever repay you? You didn’t have to do this.”

“You were having a shitty day,” Jake answers with a small smile -- a small yet genuine smile. His first genuine smile of the date. “It was the least I could do.”

“Well, thank you.” You repeat.

“I know how you can repay me, Y/N,” a mischievous grin spreads across Jake’s face as he takes a step closer. There’s a change of energy in the air and your breath gets caught in your throat. “You can repay me with a kiss.”

“A kiss?”

Jake hums, nodding. “A kiss.” There’s a beat. “You can say no, though.”

“No,” you say, and Jake’s expression changes. He steps back, but instantly you’re yanking him close to you, desperate to correct the misunderstanding. “I mean. No. I don’t want to say no. I want to kiss you, Jake.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat.

Jake’s hand cups your cheek. His eyes hold yours, an intense look in them. He begins to lean in and your heart speeds up, your cheek burning beneath Jake’s touch.

“You don’t have chlamydia, do you?” You ask Jake, your voice breathless.

Jake snorts. “No. No, I don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

Jake answers with a kiss. Immediately, with your hand that isn’t holding the cup of ice cream, you grip the collar of Jake’s dress shirt. His lips are warm against yours, and he tastes like mint chocolate. You kiss back eagerly, giving in to the warmth of Jake, and the gentle probing of his tongue, sighing loudly.

“Well, well, well,” an unfamiliar voice cuts through the air. “What do we have here, little Jakey?”

Jake pulls away from you, forehead against yours as he catches his breath before turning around, his hand slipping away from your cheek and bringing all of your warmth with it. “Hyunjae,” Jake says, but he doesn’t sound happy to see the stranger.

You drink in the appearance of the stranger. You’ve never seen him in your life. But you can pick out slight similarities between Jake and this stranger -- Hyunjae. Maybe they’re related in some way, and your cheeks begin to burn a deep red.

“Did you finally settle down, Jakey?” Hyunjae remarks, not kindly.

“What’s it to you?” Jake retorts, his voice strained.

Hyunjae holds up his hands. “I’m just curious, you are my baby cousin after all. I’m very protective over you,” his eyes slide over to you and he gives you a smile that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. “I’m Hyunjae. Jake’s cousin! We grew up together. How long have you two been dating?”

“Nice to meet you, Hyunjae,” you respond in a small voice. “But we’re not --”

“Don’t answer him, Y/N,” Jake cuts you off, sounding furious. “He’s not worth your time. Go find someone else to bother, Hyunjae. Fuck off.”

Hyunjae holds up his hands like he’s surrendering himself. “No need to get all aggressive, Jakey.” He then winks your way. “I look forward to seeing you around, Y/N.”

Hyunjae walks past you and Jake, sending one last smile over his shoulder. The smile feels like a warning.

You turn to Jake, looking for answers. You find him scuffing his shoe along the ground and mumbling curses under his breath. “Uh, Jake?” You poke his shoulder and he turns to you as if he was only just realizing you were next to him. “Are you okay?”

“Did you drive here?” Jake asks you.

“Uh, no. Ricky dropped me off. Why?”

“Can I take you home?”

You don’t know why your heart drops to your gut. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

“Great.” Jake takes your hand into his and pulls you in the direction of his car. You quickly dump the melted ice cream into a nearby trash can and try to keep up with Jake’s rapid footsteps. Jake’s car is a car you expected from someone like him; a flashy black Lexus.

When you are in the safety of Jake’s car, Jake turns to face you and inhales sharply. He doesn’t make any move to turn on the car. “That was my cousin, Hyunjae,” Jake says. “He’s the fucking worst. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone as much as I hate Hyunjae, and it’s just my luck that he stumbles upon us on a date. Look, Y/N, I know we’ve just met, and I know this date went awful, and I probably don’t have the honor of asking this; but do you want to be my girlfriend?”

You stare at Jake, taken aback. A high-pitched, broken, “What?” Escapes your mouth.

“Not -- not a real girlfriend of course, just. Just a fake one. Let’s fake date. I know Hyunjae, and I know he’s already spreading the news about you and me to everyone in my family. And when it comes to my family --” Jake shakes his head. “It’s best if we fake date for a bit.”

You blink rapidly, trying to take everything in. The past few minutes have gone by so fast -- one moment you were crying because of how awful this day was, then you were wrapped up in Jake’s arms, kissing him, and the next you were watching Jake fight with his cousin and now. And now you’re being asked by Jake to fake date him. “What -- what do I get from this?” You respond. “Say I agree. What’s in it for me?”

Jake obviously wasn’t expecting that kind of response. It takes a while for him to respond to you. “I’ll do anything you ask,” Jake responds. “If you need to be picked up, I’ll pick you up. If you need to be dropped off somewhere, I’ll drop you off.” You don’t respond, thinking over Jake’s offer, but he takes the silence as your rejection so he adds desperately; “I’ll pay you.”

“You’ll -- you’ll pay me?” You look at Jake, gobsmacked.

“I’ll pay you.” Jake nods.

“Tell me why you need us to date this badly,” you tell Jake.

“Look, my family -- they’re not a normal family. All wealthy families aren’t normal. Mine -- they’re all competitive with each other. If one kid gets a high grade, everyone else’s kids must get a higher grade or else they aren’t worthy of having the last name ‘Sim’.” Jake explains. “Our family is not kind to each other. And when it comes to dating,” Jake sighs. “Breaking up with your significant other is the worst thing you could do. My relatives view breaking up as a sign of incompetence, a sign that you aren’t fit to take over the family business. It’s stupid, I know, and the last time I brought someone home, it ended in a disaster and -- and I want to prove them wrong. I want to show them that I can have a lasting relationship, and finally make my family proud of me.”

“What a fucked up family,” you respond in disbelief. “They really view breaking up that way? What, would they rather you cheat on your significant other while in a relationship?” Jake’s silence is your answer and you stare at Jake with wide eyes. “You’re joking. Right?”

Jake shakes his head.

“Would you -- would you cheat on me if I agreed?” You don’t know why you sound vulnerable.

Jake shakes his head aggressively, reaching for your hands. “No. No. I don’t -- I don’t like cheating. Or cheaters. That’s the lowest thing someone can do.”

“Okay,” you nod your head. “Why do you hate Hyunjae so much? Is it just because of the family rivalry?”

Jake sighs, chewing on his bottom lip. You try to not let that distract you from the situation at hand. “Well, yes. The rivalry doesn’t exactly help me have loving relationships with my family members but -- my previous girlfriend cheated on me with Hyunjae. They’re still dating now, and I always see her at family dinners and I just. I just want to prove to both of them that I can move on -- that I have moved on.”

You let Jake’s explanation simmer for a while. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your girlfriend -- fake girlfriend.”

Jake grins, squeezing your hands. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” Silence fills the car and you sigh. “We need to map out the timeline of our relationship, sort out what are the dos and don’ts of this relationship, and how we will deal with the pieces we’re supposed to write about our blind date for the school magazine.”

Jake nods his head.

“I went out on a blind date last week,” you inform Jake. “It was Saturday. Soobin Choi. So we have had to meet after that.”

“Soobin Choi?” Jake gives you a look. “You don’t look like the type of girl to go for Soobin Choi.”

You scowl. “My friend set it up for me. And don’t worry, I don’t think I’ll ever be a Soobin Choi girl.”

“Who knows you went on this blind date?” Jake asks you. “Other than the people who arranged this for us.”

“Wonyoung Jang.”

“Wonyoung? You’re friends with Wonyoung?”

You nod your head and Jake grins. “My friend, Sunghoon Park? Do you know him? Anyway, he has a huge crush on Wonyoung.”

You giggle. “I think Wonyoung likes him back. They’ve been texting a lot recently.”

Jake gasps. “That’s who he’s been texting? That motherfucker wouldn’t tell me who it was.” Jake cracks his neck, “I’m so going to get him when I get home.” He then turns to you. “Only Jay and Sunoo know about the blind date. Do you think Wonyoung can keep quiet about how we actually met?”

You nod your head. “She loves keeping secrets.”

“Great,” Jake nods his head. “We threw a party last week on Saturday. What if you said you stopped by after the date?”

“Soobin dropped me back home, though,” you respond. “And lots of people saw me enter the dorm.”

“What about after?” Jake asks.

“I guess that could work. Wonyoung is a party girl. She could’ve taken me out to party after the date that ended in disaster, and I met you there.”

Jake nods his head. “I think that’s believable.”

“But didn’t you get screamed at by a girl for giving her chlamydia that night?”

Jake grins. “So that’s why you asked if I had chlamydia.”

“Whatever,” you huff.

“We’ll say we comforted each other about our shitty nights and knew then that we had a connection. I asked you out, and you said yes. What did you do Monday night?”

“I had classes until 4 PM.”

Jake nods his head. “I had football practice until five, and then I drove myself around for a few hours. Decompressing after a shit practice. I got McDonalds. You can’t go wrong with McDonalds after working off all the fat gathered up from having too much McDonalds.” Jake shakes his head in amusement at himself. “I could say I took you out then, but we didn’t go to McDonalds.”

“We went to the rollerskating rink,” you suggest. “I’ve always wanted to go on a date there.”

“Okay,” Jake nods his head.

“Hey what if -- what if we admit to dating each other on the pieces we write about our blind date?”

Jake looks at you, confused.

“I applied for the blind date on Saturday. Before I “left” for Enha’s party. And I got the notification that I’d been chosen on Wednesday. After we supposedly began dating. We could say we mentioned that we applied for this blind date thing to each other, and realized we were the two people chosen. Doesn’t that sound believable?”

“That works. I applied for the blind date on Friday.” Jake’s smile slowly grows. “This is all working out!”

“That way, we won’t really be lying about the blind date if someone asks,” you tell Jake.

Jake holds his hand up for a high five. You slap it, sharing an excited grin with Jake. Everything was falling into place. “OK, we have our story settled, now are there any boundaries you want to mention? Though, if we want to keep this believable I have to be able to kiss you. On the lips. A lot.” Jake looks shy as he mentions this. “I’m -- I’m a very affectionate boyfriend. Or hook up. I like to kiss, so we’re gonna have to kiss a lot.”

Your heart leaps to your throat. Kissing Jake on the lips whenever he felt like it? You would be stupid to not agree. “That’s fine,” you hope you come across as calm at the thought of kissing Jake. “I don’t mind. I don’t really have anything to mention-- except when should we break up?”

“Uh.”

“What about my birthday? February 14th. That gives us...A month and a bit of dating.”

“You were born on Valentine's Day?” Jake asks in awe.

You nod your head. “Yeah. Does that sound good?”

Jake nods his head. “For sure.” Then he frowns, biting his lip once again. You’re beginning to hate it when he does that because it only makes you want to kiss him. “Do you…Do you think you could come to every party Enhypen throws?”

“Why?”

“Heeseung’s girlfriend, Yunjin, always comes to our parties even though she’s not a partier herself.”

You shrug, thinking of Wonyoung always telling you to go out and live your life. “Why not?”

“And pet names? Do you like them? Baby? Babe? Pookie Pie?”

You shove Jake. “Pet names are cute. As long as they don’t go overboard, like Pookie Pie, or muffin, or anything relating to food.”

“Okay,” Jake holds out his hand for you to shake. “One last time; are you sure you want to be my fake girlfriend?”

“Yes,” you respond. “I have to tell Wonyoung about this, if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine,” Jake says, shaking your hand tightly. “I have to tell Jay and Sunoo anyway. I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow? For the party? Wonyoung can come too.”

You agree. “Alright, I’ll take you home now.”

The drive home is filled with Jake’s Justin Bieber playlist. You decide that your first course of action as Jake’s fake girlfriend will be to change his choice in music. You will craft him a playlist to use whenever you’re in the car with him, so you can both listen to tunes you both enjoy.

After exchanging numbers, you hug Jake goodbye and fly up to your dorm, eagerly bursting in and scaring the shit out of Wonyoung.

“Wonyoung,” you exclaim, heaving for air, “you will never believe what just happened.”

—-

jake 🤍

5 mins away :)

After you receive Jake’s text, you send yourself into a frenzy, pacing your small dorm with Wonyoung sitting on her bed, watching. “Oh my god, this is a mistake. I should’ve never agreed to fake date Jake. Fuck.” You look at Wonyoung, halting your pacing. “I fucked up badly and you’re not going to say anything?”

Wonyoung smiles at you. “I think this will be a good thing, Y/N. Think optimistically! Who knows, you could develop lifelong friendships because of this.”

You cuss out Wonyoung and resume your pacing, jumping at every loud sound. You weren’t prepared for tonight -- how were you supposed to act like you were in love with Jake when you literally only met and talked to him yesterday? You weren’t an actor, and you were a terrible liar.

Your phone buzzes. “He’s here,” you tell Wonyoung. “Can’t I tell him I’m feeling sick?”

Wonyoung shakes her head, sliding off her bed and throwing you the leather jacket you took from Youngeun. “No, put that on, and let’s go get fucking wasted!” Wonyoung cheers loudly and you roll your eyes, tugging the leather jacket over your red corset top.

Jake was scrolling through his phone when you walked up to his car. You rap your knuckles against the window and Jake looks up, breaking out into a grin when he sees you. You walk around to the passenger’s side and slide into the car, hearing whispers of Justin Bieber playing in the background.

“Good evening,” Jake greets. “You look nice.”

Your hands fiddle with your short black skirt, trying to stop the blush from heating up your cheeks. “It’s nothing,” you respond, “just something Wonyoung picked out for me.”

At the mention of Wonyoung, Jake turns to look behind him, grinning at Wonyoung. “Hey, I’m Jake. It’s nice to finally meet you. Sunghoon talks about you a lot.”

You watch Wonyoung blush. “I hope it’s good things.”

Jake giggles. “It’s only ever good things about you, don’t worry.” He then settles back down and looks at you. “Are you ready, Y/N? You can back out if you want, there’s always another party you could go to.”

You shake your head. “I’m fine. Let me play some music, though, enough Justin Bieber.”

Jake drives you and Wonyoung back to his frat to the tune of One Direction’s discography. You were surprised to find out Jake knew most of One Direction’s songs. You’d finally found common ground with Jake, and your chest warms at the thought.

The street is packed with cars, and late party-goers walking on the road, but with skilled ease, Jake maneuvers his way to the frat and parks the car up the driveway without a hitch. The music dies along with the car and is replaced with bass-booming music. The whole frat looks like it’s shaking. Jake turns to you and smiles, “I have some things to check up on, so take your time, alright? I’ll get you in a few minutes.” With a wink, he climbs out of his car and races into the frat, dapping up a few guys on the way in.

Immediately, your nerves skyrocket. You began to second-guess yourself, and your fingers returned to fiddle with the edge of your skirt. Noticing your nerves, Wonyoung speaks up, reaching through the gap between the driver and passenger seat for your hand. “You got this, Y/N. You better become an Oscar-winning actress as soon as you step out of this car. Your whole college career depends on this exact moment.”

You scowl at Wonyoung, pinching her wrist. “Some best friend you are,” you huff.

“Tough love,” Wonyoung shrugs.

“Tough love my ass.”

“Look, Y/N, I’ll be by your side the entire night --”

“--Don’t lie, Wony --”

“--For most of the night. But, you’ll be fine. You work well under pressure and remember, if in doubt, just kiss the life out of Jake. Making out is the best way to draw and lose attention simultaneously.”

Jake appears suddenly, knocking on the window and beckoning you out. Wonyoung climbs out first, striking up a conversation with Jake as you work up the nerves to exit Jake’s car. After inhaling and exhaling a few times, you open the car door and step out.

The music is much louder now. The shouting and cheers of already drunk party goers fill the air, and everywhere you look, there is a girl in a short dress, or a short skirt, much like yourself and Wonyoung. “I’ll see you inside, Y/N. In the kitchen, getting a drink.” Wonyoung squeezes your shoulder and walks across the lawn, smiling at a few people whom you’ve never seen interact with Wonyoung in your life.

Next to you, Jake touches your shoulders and turns you to face him. His smile is warm and it soothes your nerves. “Just stay by my side, alright? Stand next to me and look pretty, that’s easy, right?”

You smile. “I suppose.”

“Great,” Jake kisses your forehead and intertwines your hands together. He squeezes once, and then leads you across the lawn, pausing every now and then to talk to unfamiliar faces to you, but familiar faces to him. Eventually, you reach the frat and Jake pauses, looking at you for assurance before pushing forward.

His grip on your hand becomes firmer as he guides you through the large crowd of people filling the frat. Loud voices shout in your ear, and sweaty bodies knock up against your own. You begin to grow hot beneath Youngeun’s leather jacket.

You and Jake reach the kitchen, and you see Wonyoung standing with your friends. Warmth floods you and the nerves dissipate. Jake leads you over to the counter swimming in red cups and assortments of alcoholic drinks, along with some kind of alcoholic punch.

“Jungwon wanted to try making some weird alcoholic punch,” Jake informs you, bending down to shout his words against your ear. “I would suggest avoiding it. What do you want to drink?”

Jake offers his ear to you, still bending slightly so he is able to hear you over the music. “A White Claw. Black cherry flavor.”

Jake nods his head, drawing away. “Got it, Y/N.” he kisses your cheek. “I see your friends eyeing you. Go talk to them while I scavenge for some White Claws.”

You approach your friends, a blush rising to your cheeks as they all give you a knowing look. “Were you just with Jake Sim?” Yoon practically shouts, her cheeks already a bright red, courtesy of the red cup she holds in her hand. “Were you holding hands?”

“He kissed your cheek, Y/N!” Jiwon exclaims, her eyes wide and dimples appearing as she shouts at you. “What the fuck?”

You blush and dip your head. You felt self-conscious for whatever reason. “We’re dating,” you say loudly, avoiding eye contact. All of your friends, bar Wonyoung, gasp loudly and their voices clamber to be heard over the voice of Nicki Minaj rapping in the song Beauty and the Beat.

“When the fuck did this happen?!” Hikaru exclaims.

“Monday,” you respond.

There’s more shouting and you look to Wonyoung for guidance. She gives you an assuring smile and a small bout of confidence surges through your veins. “We met at a party last week,” you continue to explain. “Wonyoung brought me after my failed date with Soobin.”

“I can’t believe you managed to get cuffed -- and by Jake Sim at that,” Yoon explains, astonished.

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean, Yoon?”

“Oh! No offense to you!” Yoon says, realizing how awful her words sounded. “It’s just -- ever since he broke up with his last girlfriend, Jake’s been known to just sleep around. He hasn’t been in a committed relationship in a year and a half.” Yoon eyes you carefully, “just. Be careful, Y/N, I don’t want him to break your heart. You’re very precious. Too innocent for his kind of world.”

“I’ll be fine, Yoon,” you say to the girl, breaking out into a smile. “Jake takes care of me well.” You peer over your shoulder, catching sight of Jake leaning against the counter, chatting up a girl who grins, leaning forward to run her hand up his arm. Your heart drops and hurt immediately floods your chest.

You guess you spoke too soon.

Or not.

Jake catches your eye. “Hey, baby!” He shouts, drawing the attention of the girl sliding her hand up his arm, and everyone in the kitchen. “You wanted a black cherry white claw, right?” He holds up the can and winks.

You smile back. “That’s the one I wanted! I knew I could count on you, Jake!” The girl immediately retracts her hand, and the kitchen breaks out into loud voices, all saying the exact same thing -- Jake’s with Y/N?

You excuse yourself from your group of friends, who all grin at you, and bound over to Jake who is waiting for you. Without thinking it through, you rise to your toes, wrap a hand around the back of Jake’s neck, and bring him in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of Jake’s lips against yours.

You grab the white claw from Jake after the kiss, crack it open, and take a long sip. The alcohol cools you down immediately. “What was that for?” Jake asks you, amusement highlighting his face.

You shrug, not sure if your cheeks were hot because of the leather jacket you were wearing, or because you kissed Jake without thinking. “Just felt like it.”

Jake scoffs and leans down, stealing a kiss for himself.

“What was that for?” You ask him, repeating his words.

Jake repeats your own words, coupling it with a shrug as well. “Just felt like it.”

“I’m feeling hot,” you admit to Jake, “Is there anywhere I could put my leather jacket?”

“You could put it in my room.”

You give Jake a look and he snorts. “There was no other intention behind those words. We can just deposit your jacket in my room, and then join the party. Perhaps go dancing? Or we could socialize. It’s up to you, really. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

If you were able to see yourself, you think you would find stars in your eyes as you follow Jake out of the kitchen, his hand tightly gripping your own.

It’s well after one in the morning when you find yourself kissing Jake on one of the many couches in the frat. His arm is wrapped lazily around your waist as he keeps you close, his lips moving against yours in tandem. You explore Jake’s mouth with a vigor you didn’t even know you had, and you happily relish in the taste of the vodka shots Jake had encouraged you to take moments before you pulled him in for a kiss, which led to your fourth makeout session ever.

Someone clears their throat loudly and you and Jake break apart, chests heaving and eyes unable to look away. You’re the first to avert eye contact, looking at the stranger in front of you. The silver hair is immediately recognizable. Sunghoon Park towers over you and Jake, with Wonyoung gripping his bicep tightly, swaying slightly. She looked dazed.

“You’re Y/N?” Sunghoon looks to you for confirmation.

You nod your head, feeling as if you were floating. You’re pretty sure you’re tipsy. “Who’s asking?”

“Wony’s a bit drunk.” The use of Wonyoung’s nickname doesn’t slip past you. Nickname terms, huh? You think to yourself. “I think she should go home.”

“I’ll take them home,” Jake says, draping an arm over your shoulder and pulling you back against him, your body flush against his. “I’m the sober driver for tonight.”

Sunghoon snorts. “I totally believe you.”

Jake scowls. “Scout’s honor! I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol.”

“I’ll believe you. Get Wonyoung home safely.”

“Aye Aye captain,” Jake salutes, and Sunghoon whispers something to Wonyoung, who smiles and nods her head. Jake pushes himself off the couch, and then helps you up, giving you a gentle smile and moving hair out of your eyes.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Jake says, “Let’s get you home, Y/N.”

—-

You were still reeling from the party on Saturday. You don’t know what overcame you -- maybe it was the alcohol invading your bloodstream and the fact that all the attention was on you, that made you kiss Jake and cling to him while you danced.

Your phone lights up with another text from Jake. You had texted him throughout Sunday. He checked in a few times on Sunday, making sure you were feeling okay. Jake’s care for you made your heart expand times ten, but you had to remind yourself that this was all fake -- that none of this was real.

jake 🤍

Where are you?

you

library

in one of the study rooms

jake 🤍

What room?

you

third floor, twenty one A

jake 🤍

Ok. See you soon ❤️

Your heart pounds in your throat. You weren’t sure what you were going to do when Jake turns up in your study room with a large smile and hopeful brown eyes. He arrives quicker than you expected, opening the door and grinning at you.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets, slipping into the chair beside you.

“Hi,” you greet back quietly, focusing on your laptop in front of you. Silence embraces the room and your leg shakes beneath the table. You didn’t know how to work around Jake. He was an enigma. He was a puzzle -- a one thousand-piece puzzle that would take hours, if not days to figure out. He was a puzzle that came in a blank box with no photo to show you what the puzzle was supposed to look like.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt suddenly, unable to handle the silence. “I’m sorry about Saturday. I don’t know how to handle myself around you. I don’t know how to do relationships because I’ve never been in one, especially a fake one at that. It’s just -- it’s just so hard and confusing and I feel lost and. And. I’m sorry if I did anything weird or wrong or --”

“Y/N,” Jake interrupts your ramble. “You apologize too much.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Jake gives you a look and you avert your eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You didn’t do anything wrong on Saturday. You were fine. I guess I’m also at fault for partially pushing you to join me at the party when we really haven’t spent any time together outside of that one blind date.” Jake reaches for your hands. “I’m here to help you, Y/N, we can work out how this fake relationship works together. First, you have to tell me a little bit more about yourself. Like, we should ask each other deep-hitting questions.”

You look at Jake and return his smile. “What are these deep-hitting questions?”

Jake hums in thought. “Like…What’s your favorite color?”

You snicker. “That’s a deep-hitting question?”

Jake nods his head, dead serious. “So? Your favorite color?”

“I like yellow,” you respond.

“Alright. Yellow. Any particular reason?”

You shake your head. “It’s a nice color. Warm color. Happy color. What’s your favorite color?”

“Red,” Jake responds. “No particular reason, like you. I just like how it looks. Not bright red, though, a dark deep red. Maroon is a nice color as well.” Jake reaches for another question. “What’s your family like?”

“I have a mom and younger sister. My dad passed away when I was young,” you tell Jake, your voice taking on a gentler tone. “My mom is my biggest inspiration. I look up to her a lot. She raised my sister and I all on her own. I was three when my dad passed, and my younger sister was one. I don’t really have many memories of my father, but I have plenty of my mother never giving up. She’s the reason I’m where I am now. She sacrificed everything for me.”

“She sounds amazing,” Jake responds, his tone matching your gentle one.

“She is. I talk to her and my younger sister every day.”

“How old is your younger sister?”

“She’s fifteen. She’s a freshman. Her name is Myeong.” You tilt your head as you look at Jake. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

“My mom and dad are…very pushy and controlling. My dad wants me to graduate and take over the family business, and my mom is very eager for grandkids before she dies. They’re only proud of me when I accomplish something big, and my mom likes -- or well, used to control everything about my life when I was living under her roof.” Jake sighs, “but my older brother, he’s the only person I love in my family. He was always there for me, and always protected me. I love him a lot.”

Jake shifts in his chair and straightens his posture. “Ouch. I just brought the mood down. Sorry. Your mother and sister sound like fun.”

“It’s okay, Jake,” you comfort the older boy. “And yes. They’re very fun to be around. I can’t wait to spend winter break with them.”

“Right, winter break is next week.” Jake hunches back over. “I have to spend Christmas with my family. It’s not gonna be fun, especially since everyone has caught wind of our relationship.”

“You can do this, Jake,” you tell him with an encouraging grin, “If you need to escape though, call me and I’ll pretend to be having a meltdown so you can come over to mine for some reprieve. We usually watch all the Santa Clause movies after our Christmas dinner.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jake says, “are you hungry?”

You nod your head. “I was about to ask you if you wanted to take me to get some churros.”

“Right!” Jake stands as you begin to pack up your things. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for your bank details. I need to pay you.”

You look at Jake and frown. “I don’t want your money, Jake, seriously. It’s okay to not pay me.”

Jake shakes his head. “I feel bad for using you like this, though, Y/N. Please let me pay you, it’ll help ease my guilty consciousness for getting you involved in this mess.”

You sigh. “Fine. But I’m moving all the money you give me to a different account and not spending a single dollar.”

“That’s fine, as long as I’m able to pay you.”

After zipping up your bag, you pull out your phone and give Jake your bank details. “Now that that’s finished, I have something to tell you,” You step out of the study room with Jake trailing behind you. You let Jake fall into step beside you, and reach for his hand. “I’m thinking of making you a playlist to play whenever you drive me around because I’m planning on taking advantage of having you at my mercy.”

Jake smiles down at you. There’s a hint of fondness hidden in that smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Y/N. What songs were you thinking of putting on the playlist?”

“I’m keeping Justin Bieber off,” you retort jokingly.

Jake gasps and wretches his hand out of yours. You giggle and pout, reaching for Jake’s hand. “I was joking! You’re such a baby, Jakey poo.” You reach up to pinch his cheeks and Jake bats your hand away, intertwining your hands back together instead.

“It’ll be a surprise,” you tell Jake as the elevator doors open. “But I’m making sure it’s songs that both of us will enjoy because I’m such a great girlfriend.”

Jake rolls his eyes, but his smile gives away his fondness. “Of course you are, baby.” His eyes light up as if a light bulb went off above his head. “By the way, happy one week!” He kisses your cheek.

You roll your eyes. “Sap.”

“Only for you,” Jake responds.

—-

A few days later, you’re staring at a large frat. It’s your first time seeing the Enhypen frat up close during the daytime. You wouldn’t even be able to tell Enhypen throws massive raging parties from judging the outside appearance of the frat. The grass is neatly cut, and the bushes growing around the perimeter are groomed to near perfection. Someone obviously has a bit of a green thumb in the frat.

You walk up the porch steps and knock on the bright red door that feels rough beneath your knuckles. It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Jungwon Yang. You know quite a bit about Jungwon Yang, since Wonyoung grew up with Jungwon and you’re Wonyoung’s best friend. It surprises you how many mutual friends you and Jungwon share, yet you’ve never once spoken to him.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jungwon greets, pulling the door open wider to allow you in. “Jake’s in his room.”

“Hey, Jungwon,” you greet back, letting the boy shut the door behind you. You slide off your shoes and straighten up. “Where is Jake’s room?”

“I’ll show you. How are your classes going?” Jungwon makes conversation as he leads you through the spacious frat. It’s clear to you that this is a legacy frat. Everything screams wealth. You feel sorely out of place, but you’ll prefer to keep these thoughts to yourself.

“They’re going good. A lot of work, but I like it. It keeps me busy.”

“I’ve never been this busy,” Jungwon says with a small smile. He climbs the stairs, you following closely behind. “Didn’t you go to Jake’s room during the last party?”

“I don’t remember,” you admit sheepishly. “That whole night feels like a fever dream. I was really nervous the entire time.”

Jungwon nods his head. “You know, from what Won told me about you, I never expected you and Jake to date. You two seem like total opposites. I hope you don’t take offense.”

“None taken,” you tell Jungwon. “And I have to admit, I felt the same way, but somehow the words ring true; opposites do attract. We work well with each other.” You don’t know where this load of bullshit was coming from, but anything to make Jungwon believe what you have with Jake is real.

The door to the bathroom swings open and Sunoo Kim steps out. Your heart pounds in your ears as Sunoo’s sharp eyes latch onto your figure. The older boy genuinely intimidates you. His facial features are incredibly sharp, and his words are even sharper. He holds grudges for a long time, and he’s a known gossiper. Sunoo’s reputation across campus is an intimidating one, but you also know from Wonyoung that he’s one of the nicest, kindest, and cutest boys she knows. “Don’t let his resting bitch face scare you,” Wonyoung advised. “He’s just fiercely loyal and protective of his friends, that’s why he has that reputation.”

“Hello, Y/N,” Sunoo says.

“Hey, Sunoo.” Your hands begin to sweat. God, sorry Wonyoung, you think. But Sunoo scares me.

“Here to see Jake?” Sunoo asks you, not unkindly.

You nod your head. “He invited me over to study. I have a test tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you’ll get much studying done with Jake,” Sunoo states, and once again, he wasn’t being mean or judgy. It just seems like a simple observational statement -- he knows Jake better than you, having grown up with the older boy. “Keep the noise down.”

Your cheeks flush and Jungwon snorts. “No need to be so bitchy, Sunoo.”

“Sunghoon used up all my face wash,” Sunoo groans, his face transforming into a pout you’ve never seen the boy wear. He looks extremely soft and squishable and Wonyoung’s words about Sunoo bounce around your head. Maybe you truly don’t have a reason to be so afraid of the older boy.

Immediately, your hand goes for the shoulder bag you were carrying, and you pull out the newly bought face wash that was haphazardly lying about. “Here,” you hold out your face wash. “Take this.”

Sunoo stares at your outstretched hand. “We use the same face wash brand! Do you just carry your face wash around with you everywhere?” Sunoo’s gaze pierces your soul and you immediately flush bright red. You really need to get your blushing situation under control.

“I -- I don’t carry it around with me. I just stopped by the quick mart on the way here to buy it since I had run out of it. But here, you can take it. I’ll just buy another on my way home.”

“Really?” Sunoo asks.

“Yes,” you shake the face wash in the air. “Take it.”

Sunoo’s face splits into a grin, completely transforming all his sharp edges into soft edges. Sunoo’s truly a different person when he smiles. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re very kind.”

“It’s nothing,” you mumble.

A door at the end of the hall is wrenched open and Jake pops his head out, eyes focusing on the group of three standing around the bathroom. “What’s taking you so long?” Jake groans. “I miss my girlfriend. Stop hogging her.”

“Whatever Jake,” Sunoo scoffs. He steps back into the bathroom. “I hope to see you around often, Y/N,” Sunoo tells you with a smile, and then he shuts the bathroom door.

“There’s Jake’s room,” Jungwon tells you, pointing to Jake. “Play some music if you’re going to do something other than studying.” Jungwon leaves you a blushing mess in the middle of the hallway.

“Y/N!” Jake calls, beckoning you over eagerly.

With quick steps, you reach Jake in milliseconds. Jake grins down at you and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Pulling away, you look at Jake with a frown. “What was that for? There’s no one around.”

Jake pulls you into his room in lieu of an answer, shutting the door with a thump. “Was Sunoo nice to you?”

You nod your head and drop your shoulder bag onto Jake’s desk. “I gave him my face wash. I think I scored some points with him for that.”

“You had face wash in your bag?” Jake asks, grabbing his football and leaping onto his bed, beginning to throw the football up into the air and catching it.

“I bought some on the way over. I was running out,” you answer, pulling out the chair at Jake’s desk and taking a seat. “Are you going to study?”

“Eventually,” Jake responds. “Did you finish making that playlist?” He pushes himself into a sitting position, gripping the football tightly and displaying an excited expression on his face.

You can’t help but smile. “I did. Want to see?”

Jake nods his head, his blond hair flopping messily. You pull out your phone, unlock it and pull up the Spotify playlist, handing your phone over to Jake. “You can scroll through as I study,” you tell Jake. “Let me know what you think. I added a lot of songs.”

“Woah. Forty-eight hours,” Jake looks at you. “That is a lot of songs.”

You grin, running a hand through your hair to tie it up. “I guess that means you’re legally obliged to hang out with me for forty-eight hours.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Jake grins back.

Silence embraces the room and for once, it’s not awkward. You easily get enraptured in your studying, hearing Jake ooh or ahh or let out a small giggle as he scrolls through the playlist you made solely for Jake to play whenever you’re in the car with him.

After some time, Jake finally speaks up. “I really like the playlist, Y/N.”

You spin around in Jake’s desk chair. “Really?”

Jake nods his head. “I can’t wait to play it.”

“I’m glad. It took me a couple of days to curate. I’m happy you like it.”

“Of course, you made it, Y/N, so that means I’ll like it instantly.”

You groan and fall back into the desk chair. “Shut the fuck up, Jake.” Your tone was clearly teasing, and you’re glad Jake is able to make out the teasing because he laughs loudly.

“Was Jungwon nice to you as well?” Jake asks as he places your phone back on his desk. “Because sometimes he says shit without realizing how harsh it is.”

“He was nice as well, no need to fret, Jake. If they’re your friends I like them immediately.”

As you wait for Jake’s response, a loud banging sound floats through the air, followed by someone shouting a familiar name. “HEESEUNG!” Someone shouts after banging loudly. It’s quiet for a few seconds before the banging and shouting start again.

Jake groans and you leap up to open his door, curious to see who was making a ruckus. You scan the hallway and catch sight of a young boy who was incredibly tall. His blond hair glows brightly and he has a baseball bat and glove tucked beneath the arm that wasn’t doing the knocking.

“Cut it out, Riki,” Jake groans exasperatedly.

“No. He didn’t show up to play baseball with me,” Riki grumbles, continuing to smack the door.

“He spent his entire night revising his thesis with Jeongin and Beomgyu,” Jake responds. “Let him rest.”

Riki finally looks over at Jake, ready to respond, but when he sees you everything seems to pause. Riki stops smacking the door and the words poised at the tip of his tongue slide off. “Woah, is that Y/N? Your girlfriend?” He squints and assesses you. “You could do better than Jake, you know, Y/N.”

“Riki you better shut the fuck up,” Jake threatens.

“You play baseball?” You ask Riki.

“What does it look like?” Riki responds snappily.

“Riki,” hisses Jake.

“Yes,” Riki responds, his tone much nicer albeit exaggerating for Jake’s sake. “I play baseball.”

“That’s cool. Could I play with you?”

“What?” Riki looks bemused like he’d never thought you would offer to play baseball with him.

“Heeseung’s obviously sleeping and you probably shouldn’t disturb him because writing a thesis is hell on earth, so why not play catch with me? I used to play softball for my high school.”

“Softball and baseball are different, though,” Riki deadpans.

“Not really,” you shrug, stepping out of Jake’s room. “The only differences are the gloves, balls, bats, and how you throw the pitches. Other than that, everything is the same. In fact, I used to play baseball with the kids in my neighborhood, and with my cousins whenever I hung out with my family.”

“But you don’t have a glove.”

“I do,” Jake says. “Just play with her, Riki.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you downstairs. We’ll head to the baseball pitch.” Riki slinks down the stairs and you pop back into Jake’s room, watching the older boy rummage around for his baseball glove.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N,” Jake tells you.

“I want to,” you reply, “if it gives Heeseung more time to rest and keeps Riki distracted -- by the way who even is Riki?”

Jake finds his baseball glove with a triumphant smile. He chucks it to you as he says, “Some kid we picked up off the street. You better hurry downstairs, Riki doesn’t like to be kept waiting. He’s very impatient.” Then, with a shake of his head, Jake mutters, “Teenagers.”

“Aren’t you gonna come down?” You ask Jake. “It would be nice to have you with us.”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there. I need to find my cap.”

“Alright, see ya soon baby,” you salute Jake and walk out of his room, bounding down the stairs and finding Rik waiting for you. “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” you tell the boy, hurriedly slipping on your shoes.

Riki shrugs. “It’s fine.”

You step out of the house and walk to the baseball pitch in silence. You find out the baseball pitch is only a few minutes away from the Enhypen frat. It was built next to a park, so there were a few kids playing on the playground.

“You’re Jake’s new girlfriend, huh?” Riki finally says something as you both warm up. You don’t know how you’re going to play baseball with Riki, so you just follow whatever warm-ups he does.

“Yeah,” you respond. “And you’re his friend?”

“Obviously.”

“How old are you?”

“I turned eighteen last week on Friday.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh shit, Jake and I went out last Friday. Sorry for stealing him from you.”

Riki shrugs. “It’s chill. We hung out before and after his date.” You lapse into silence once more. “I like you better than his previous girlfriend,” Riki takes you by surprise as he grabs his bat and practices swinging a few times. “She was really rude. You’re not rude.”

“Thank you?”

“She never played baseball. Always said it would ruin her manicure.” He glances at your nails. “Aren’t you afraid of ruining your manicure?”

“I’m going to my nail tech next week. I don’t really care. Plus it gets tiring wiping your ass with a manicure sometimes.”

Riki stares at you and you immediately regret saying what you said seconds ago. Riki snorts, “You’re so much better than Francesa. She hated it when we would have farting contests.”

You stare at Riki in disbelief. This kid you think. “You’re still in high school aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” Riki asks.

“You’re still having fart contests.”

Riki scowls.

—-

“Do you have to throw a party for literally every single accomplishment?” You ask Jake, finding yourself back at Enhypen on a Saturday night. Wonyoung was dancing with Sunghoon on the dance floor while you and Jake rested against one of the walls, observing the party.

“Throwing parties is fun, Y/N,” Jake responds. “Especially if you’re celebrating the end of exam week and the start of winter break.”

“I guess celebrating the end of exam week is worth throwing a party.” You sip the alcoholic drink Jake got for you, and watch as Wonyoung laughs over something Sunghoon said. “Wanna go to your room?”

Jake raises his eyebrows and you roll your eyes. “You look tired, Jake, and you aren’t engaging in conversations like you usually do at parties. Let’s just go to your room to talk for a bit.”

“Alright,” Jake shrugs, taking your hand and pulling you up the stairs. You ignore the looks that are being thrown your way. Not everything is about getting laid.

Entering Jake’s bedroom, some sense of comfort embraces you and you feel relieved at the sudden change in environment. Everything feels much nicer in Jake’s room, even if you could still hear the music, albeit muffled.

“What did you want to talk about?” Jake asks, as you both peel off your shoes and slip beneath his light blue comforter, legs immediately tangling beneath it.

“Tell me about your childhood,” you answer. “You haven’t really told me anything.”

“Of course. You’ll tell me about yours after?”

“Any questions you have, I’ll answer honestly,” you grin.

“I would say my childhood was like any other, but I was born into a wealthy family with a trust fund already waiting for me when I turned eighteen,” Jake starts off, making you giggle lightly. “I don’t necessarily have a lot of happy memories of my childhood. But the ones I have only mostly involve my older brother, Jaehyun.”

“What’s your happiest memory with him?”

“Probably when I was six and he was ten, our nanny took us down to the beach. I remember staying at the beach for hours at a time whenever we went. There was also this small forest of trees a little bit further down the beach, and my brother and I would always explore in the small forest, picking up sticks and pretending to hunt down aliens that were planning to take over the world. Time always slipped away from us.”

You watch as Jake floats away from you. It’s like he’s in a different dimension as he recites this story to you, a gentle, happy look you’ve never seen appearing on his face.

“And this one time, it started to rain while my brother and I were playing in this forest, and we got lost. My brother found us some shelter under this large tree, and I started freaking out but my brother comforted me. He told me that he was going to take care of me, no matter what. I stopped crying after that and trusted everything my brother told me and we eventually made it out of the forest. My nanny was worried sick about us, and we never went back to that beach.”

Jake is brought back to you and smiles. “We were lost for fifteen minutes, Y/N, and for ten of those minutes, I was genuinely happy because I had my brother with me, guiding me through life. Jaehyun has always wanted the best for me and has always supported me in all of my endeavors. I don’t have a lot of people like him in my life.”

“That’s really sweet, Jake, I’m glad you have someone like that in your life.”

“Anything else you want to know, Y/N?” Jake asks.

“How did you meet the boys in Enhypen? Did you know any of them before coming to college?”

Jake laughs. “Obviously it’ll take us days for me to explain my close relationship with all thirty of us, but I’ll tell you about my closest friends. The ones you’ve met already.”

“I love a good story,” you say eagerly, pulling the comforter up higher.

“I grew up with Jay and Sunghoon. Our families were closely intertwined, so it just made sense for us to grow up together. They’re like my brothers. I met Heeseung and Sunoo in elementary school. I had heard a lot about Heeseung from Jay since they’re like, distantly related or something, and Sunoo was a friend Sunghoon made while learning how to figure skate. I got along well with them as well, so we all began hanging out. I met Jungwon and Riki in middle school. Riki is the son of one of Jay’s dad’s business partners in Japan. He came to Korea during the summer and stayed with Jay. He eventually applied for a transfer program when he was sixteen, so that’s why he’s around now. Jungwon is just some kid Jay latched on to during Taekwondo practice and never let go.”

“That sounds a lot like a found family novel I would find in a library,” you tease. “But it’s really sweet how you all found each other.”

“I guess it is. They’re my lifelong brothers. But, enough about me. What about you, Y/N? What was your childhood like?”

“It was normal,” you reply, teasing Jake who rolls his eyes. “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, which I was fine with. I liked being left alone. I think I was just scared of making friends because they might leave me like my father did. But, I don’t feel that way anymore. I’ve made a lot of friends since arriving at college.”

“What’s your happiest memory?”

“Right now, my happiest memory is meeting Wonyoung for the first time,” you tell Jake. “I was so scared moving out of home, and I was scared that I wouldn’t…experience the world my mom talked about whenever she brought up her college years, but I met Wonyoung during move-in day, and I think my life has changed.” You nudge Jake’s shoulder, “you know, if I hadn’t met Wonyoung, I don’t think we would’ve met.”

“Crazy how the world works,” Jake says.

“Very crazy,” you agree. “Did you sleep with plushies when you were younger?”

Jake shakes his head. “Nah, did you?”

A timid smile spreads across your face. “Yeah. I slept with a lot of plushies. I guess I just liked having something to hug and keep me warm while I slept.”

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” Jake coos, pinching your nose.

“Fuck off, Jake.”

There’s a long silence before Jake starts to talk again. “You know, we’ve known each other for a week and I’ve told you more about myself than most people close to me know.”

You look at Jake in surprise. “Really?”

Jake nods his head. “It’s...easy talking to you, Y/N.”

“I could say the same about you,” you murmur.

“I guess,” Jake starts slowly, leaning forward, his hand cupping your cheek, “we were meant to meet.” His lips are a whisper away from yours. “It’s our fate.” And then he’s kissing you. It’s a gentle kiss, a kiss unlike any you’ve had before. Jake doesn’t make any move to rush the kiss, and you don’t either. You’re both perfectly content to take your time kissing each other.

Jake breaks away and shifts your positioning so you’re half on top of him. He cups your cheek again, pulling you back in for a soft kiss, while his other arm wraps around your waist. Both of your hands are threaded through Jake’s hair, and all you can hear is Little Mix’s Love Me Like You.

—-

The cold of the ice rink hits you suddenly. A chill zips up your spine, and you grip Jake’s hand tighter. It was the first day of winter break, and you and Jake were on a double date with Yunjin and Heeseung. You’d all agreed to go ice skating for the date.

“When was the last time you went ice skating, Y/N?” Yunjin makes conversation as Jake and Heeseung talk about some Pokemon game they had played recently. Yunjin looked pretty today. Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail, with a few strands curling around her face, and her makeup was light. She was wearing cute pink leg warmers that you eyed with envy.

“Probably when I was…fifteen? I think we went ice skating for a school trip,” you respond. “What about you? When was the last time you went ice skating?”

“A couple weeks back,” Yunjin says smiling. “Heeseung likes to ice skate so we often swing by when we have nothing to do.”

“You’re probably really good then.”

Yunjin laughs. “I’m mediocre at best. Heeseung’s really good though. But, then again, Heeseung’s good at everything.”

“Talking shit about Heeseung again, Yunjin?” Jake asks, joining in on the conversation.

“Yes, because that’s all I do, Jake,” Yunjin retorts sardonically.

“Do you know what size skates you wear, baby?” Jake directs his attention on you, his nose a light red already.

“Um, maybe a six?”

“Woah, you have small hands and feet,” Jake exclaims.

“Rude,” you whack Jake’s chest with your free hand.

“No, it’s cute,” Jake says with a small smile. “You’re super cute, Y/N.” He kisses the tip of your nose and lets go of your hand. “I’ll go with Heeseung to get your skates. Go find us a place to sit.”

Yunjin snakes her arm around yours and pulls you away from Jake, laughing loudly at something Heeseung had whispered to her.

“You and Jake are so cute,” Yunjin says when you finally lay claim on a row of chairs. “You’ve only been dating for what? Two weeks? And you’re already this cute?” Yunjin sighs, “The honeymoon phase is the best part of a relationship. Hee and I have been dating for…woah has it been two years already? We’ve been dating for two years and I don’t think we’ve left the honeymoon stage yet.”

“Yeah,” you agree, not really knowing what else to say.

“How did you meet Jake again?”

“Oh, at one of Enhypen’s parties. We both had shitty nights -- I had a failed date and Jake got accused of giving someone chlamydia -- and we comforted each other. Jake likes to say we had an immediate connection, so he wasted no time in asking me out.”

“Aww,” Yunjin coos, “love at first sight! I wish I got to experience that. Heeseung held a grudge against me for the longest time before he ever admitted his feelings to me.”

“Heeseung holds grudges?” You were pleasantly surprised. “He doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges.”

“I was a special case, apparently,” Yunjin jokes. “But really, Heeseung’s the sweetest, most romantic guy I’ve ever dated.” Her eyes dart over your shoulder, and her grin only gets wider. “Jake’s a really good guy too, if you give him a chance.” She looks back at you and reaches out to squeeze your shoulder. “And it looks like you are giving him a chance. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this happy.”

You don’t have time to respond, because Jake takes a seat beside you, dumping your skates onto your lap. “Here you go. Do I get a thank you kiss?”

“If you insist,” you grumble, leaning forward to lay a quick peck on Jake’s lips. “Now help me put them on.”

Yunjin and Heeseung head onto the ice first, leaving you alone with Jake as he laces up his skates after helping you. You nudge Jake’s knee with your own, a sly smile slipping onto your face. “We have a love at first sight story, huh? Does this mean you loove me?”

“Damn,” Jake curses, “how did you find out? Was it that easy to tell?” A smile that matches the one you are wearing slips onto Jake’s face. “Jungwon told me I was being too obvious.”

You snicker and wrap your hands around Jake’s bicep, inching forward to rest your head on his shoulder. “Well, there’s no need to be nervous, Jake, because I love you too, my sweet sugar plum.”

“Sweet sugar plum? Where did that come from?”

“You don’t like it?” You ask, pouting slightly.

“I hate it.”

You turn your head to muffle your giggles against Jake’s shoulder.

“Y/N, you know I won’t leave you, right?” Jake asks in a soft tone.

“Hmm? Where did this come from, Jake?” You pull your head away from Jake’s shoulder to look at him.

“I was just thinking about what you told me on Saturday,” Jake admits. “I’m not gonna leave you, Y/N.”

“Even after our break up?” You don’t like how insecure you sound. “We’ll still be friends after our break up?”

Jake nods his head. “Of course.”

You smile, kissing Jake’s cheek. “Great. Let’s go skating now, Jakey, I need an excuse to hold your hand for a few hours.”

Jake lets you pull him up from the chair. “You could just ask to hold my hand, Y/N.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You reply, grinning eagerly.

—-

“Why are we carving pumpkins, again?” You ask your sister. It was Christmas Eve and you were sitting at the dining table with a large pumpkin parked in front of you. Your younger sister was sitting next to you, tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on carving her pumpkin.

“Because you weren’t home for Halloween,” your sister responds, not taking her eyes off her pumpkin.

“Halloween was three months ago, Mye. It’s Christmas Eve, shouldn’t we be helping Mama in the kitchen?”

“We are!” Myeong refutes. “We’re making decorations!”

You throw Myeong a pointed look. “Carving pumpkins? For Christmas decorations?”

Myeong scowls. “No need to be such a grinch, Y/N. Sorry I missed carving pumpkins with you.”

You sigh and place down your scalp. “I missed carving pumpkins with you too, Myeong.”

Your younger sister turns to you, her eyes soft and wide. She reminds you of a baby deer. “Really?”

You nod your head and Myeong breaks out into a grin, throwing her arms around you and hugging you tightly. “It feels so lonely at home without you, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re back home for winter break.”

You hug your sister back tighter. “Me too. I missed you and Mama a lot. Especially her food. I mostly eat ramen and toast.”

Your sister giggles and draws out of the hug and starts to carve her pumpkin again. “What is college like, Y/N? Have you made any friends?’ Myeong wiggles her eyebrows, “Have you gotten a boyfriend?”

You snort. “A boyfriend?” You try to ignore your cheeks heating up. “Are you crazy, Myeong? I have no time for a boyfriend. I did make some friends, though.”

“Oh yes, that Wonyoung Jang girl?”

“How do you know about her?”

“You posted her on your Instagram story a couple of times, Y/N,” your sister deadpans, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, right. But yeah, Wonyoung’s my friend. And all her friends are my friends as well.” You don’t know why your chest swells with pride when you mention your friends. “I have a large friend group, Mye.”

Myeong smiles. She looks genuinely happy for you. “I’m glad, Y/N.”

You turn back to your pumpkin and continue to carve in silence. Your mother was in the kitchen, humming away to whatever song was on the radio as she baked some Christmas cookies. The warm cheer of Christmas wraps you up warmly. You were happy to be back home with your mother and sister, carving a pumpkin while your mother made cookies a few feet away. You were afraid leaving for college would change everything, but it had changed nothing.

“But, seriously Y/N,” Myeong breaks the silence, “you have had to at least kiss a guy at one of the parties you went to with Wonyoung!”

“Well, I did,” You drop your voice and lean in closer. “Lose my virginity.”

Myeong gasps loudly, your mother looking up from where she was placing cookie dough on a tray. “Everything okay, girls?”

“Yes,” you say, smiling. You look at Myeong who was staring at you, completely taken by surprise at your confession.

“Really?”

You nod your head.

“What was it like?”

You blush and bury your head in your hands. “Myeong -- why -- why would you ask me that?”

Myeong shrugs. “Curiosity.”

“It was fine,” you grumble. “It was just a hook-up, though, and I haven’t had sex since then.”

Myeong pouts. “You’re no fun.”

“No, I’m just choosing to be safe. College parties are swarming with STDs.” Your phone begins to ring loudly, cutting off your mother’s humming and Myeong’s words. You steal a glance at who was calling you -- Jake’s contact name fills your screen and you can’t control the large smile that graces your face.

“I’ll be back,” you tell Myeong. “I have to take this.” Grabbing your phone, you exit the dining room and start up the stairs to your room. “Hey,” you greet Jake, pressing your phone to your ear. “What’s up?”

“Y/N, hey,” Jake’s voice is soft as he talks. “How are you?”

“I’m doing good. What about you?”

Jake sighs. “Well, I would like to leave, but I promised my mom and dad that I would stay for their Christmas dinner and I like to keep my promises, so.” If Jake were standing in front of you now, he would end his sentence with a shrug. Instead, he punctuates this sentence with another sigh.

“That sucks,” you murmur, shutting your bedroom door, and resting against it. “What is so awful about this Christmas dinner anyway?”

“It’s not really a Christmas dinner,” Jake explains. “It’s a business dinner, under the guise of a company Christmas dinner. My dad’s investors bring their families to our house for this Christmas dinner, but all they do is talk business while their wives make small talk and the kids sit at the table and eat in silence. Jay used to come, but his father wised up and decided to go on vacation during Christmas, which upset my father for a few years.”

“That is awful.”

“But it’s only for one night,” Jake sounds defeated. “What about you? What do you do for Christmas?”

“Not a lot,” you tell Jake. And it was true -- your family didn’t do a lot for Christmas. You all woke up quite late on Christmas since you and Myeong were no longer kids and the thrill of opening presents was slowly wearing off. Your mother made some pancakes for breakfast, and then the three of you headed down to afternoon mass. You weren’t religious, but your mother liked going so you and your sister accompanied her. You know how often your mother used to pray back when you were younger and she was fighting tooth and nail to keep her family afloat.

After mass, you would stop by a few shops to just pick up extra miscellaneous items. Then your mother would begin Christmas dinner prep and your relatives from your mother’s side would start turning up as soon as it hits 4 PM. They usually stay as late as midnight.

“That sounds….a lot more fun than my Christmas,” Jake laughs softly.

“It is fun,” you reply, laying down on your bed and staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars you and Myeong stuck on your ceiling years ago. “After dessert, we all watch The Santa Clause trilogy.”

“I remember you telling me about that,” Jake hums. “I’ve never seen those movies, what are they about?”

“I don’t want to spoil anything, Jake,” you tease. “We’ll just have to watch them together at some point.”

“I’ll take you up on that, Y/N,” Jake’s tone was just as teasing. “I should let you get back to whatever it was you were doing before I called. I just wanted to hear your voice before I went insane inside this house.”

“Call me whenever Jake. I’ll always pick up.”

“Okay, I will. Talk later, Y/N.”

“Bye, Jake.”

—-

It was a little past eight when Jake calls you again. It’s Christmas, and you’re sitting at the dining table with your relatives. Dinner was served a couple of hours ago, but the conversation at the table was too good for anybody to think about cleaning up the mess displayed in front of you.

Your Uncle and Aunts were still helping themselves to the last bits of your mom’s lasagna. Dessert still had to be served, and your mother was looking for a way out of the conversation she was having with your grandmother.

Your phone cuts through the conversation you were having with your cousin.

“Who’s calling you, Y/N?” Your cousin, Lila, asks, trying to take a peek at your phone.

“Oh, it’s no one. I’ll be right back,” you sneak out of the dining hall and down to your bedroom. “Jake, hey.”

“Y/N, sorry if I disturbed you from your movie watching,” Jake greets.

“No, we’re still eating,” you assure Jake. “What’s up?”

“I-- I was wondering -- ah fuck, I don’t know how to ask this,” Jake admits.

“Just ask,” you encourage. “It’s okay, Jake. It’s just me.”

“Do you think I could come over? To your house?”

“Oh, Jake.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to say yes. I’m sorry for asking, I just can’t be here. I just can’t do it. No one else would pick up. I’m sorry for asking, Y/N.”

“It’s okay, Jake. And you’re more than welcome to come over. My mama feeds all my friends that set foot in this house. I’ll send you my address.” Your heart hurts for Jake. You can’t imagine how awful it must be for Jake to be in a house that doesn’t feel like home.

“Thank you, Y/N. Really.”

“Don’t mention it. Just arrive safely, ok? And text me when you’re leaving.”

“Okay. See you soon, Y/N.” The line goes dead before you can respond. You share your location with Jake, and pocket your phone, padding back downstairs to the dining room. Your mother had finally been able to leave the conversation with your grandmother and was now in the kitchen, dumping empty plates in the sink and fixing dessert onto fresh, clean, plates.

“Mama,” you step into the kitchen, keeping your voice low. “My friend from college is coming over. I hope that’s okay, he needed -- he needed to get away from his family for a while.”

“What’s his name?” Your mother asks, looking up from where she was plating the Christmas cookies she had made while you were carving the pumpkins.

“Jake Sim. He’s…my friend.”

“Jake Sim? Does he have any relations with Hana and Jaeho Sim? The CEO of Sim Corporations?”

You smile wanly. “They’re his parents, mama.”

“Then, he’s more than welcome inside my house, Y/N. I went to school with his parents, I know how tough they can be.” Your mother shakes her head. “They were both forces to be reckoned with at college.”

“You knew them?” You ask, surprised.

“Of course, I know them, Y/N. Everyone knew everybody back then. Should I set out a plate for him at the table?”

You look at the already crowded table. Myeong laughs loudly with one of your aunts. “Do we even have room for another chair?”

“We can make room,” your mother answers with a sly smile. “Do you know if he’s had dinner yet? Because I don’t want to just serve him dessert while he’s here.”

“Uh, I’ll ask him when he gets here.” Your phone dings with a text. You had two unread texts, both from Jake. One was sent eight minutes ago, telling you he’s left. The most recent one was Jake telling you he’d just parked. You wonder how close Jake lived if he was only an eight-minute drive away.

“He’s here,” you tell your mom, just as there’s a knock at the door.

“Go answer, I’ll make some room.”

You nod your head and turn away, eyes widening as Myeong rises from her chair. “I’ll get it!” You shriek, dashing out of the kitchen and down to the door. You throw the door open and your eyes widen at the sight of Jake.

“Y/N, hey,” Jake grins.

“Jake -- your -- your hair.”

It was black. His hair was black. You struggle to organize your thoughts as your eyes drag down the rest of his body. Jake was clearly dressed up for some formal event. He was wearing blue jeans with a white buttoned-up blouse tucked in, accentuating his waist, and a navy blue blazer.

“Decided to go back to black,” Jake answers with a grin. “Maintaining my blonde hair was tiring.” He peers over your shoulder. “Can I come in? Or did your mother --”

You shush Jake and step onto the porch, letting the front door fall shut. “No, you’re welcome in. I just -- I told them we were friends. They don’t know we’re….y’know? It just -- it just gets tiring lying all the time, and I don’t like lying to my mama and Myeong and --”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jake cuts you off. “I think it’ll be nice to not have to act like we’re dating for once.”

“Okay,” you smile relieved. “My mama knew your parents in college.”

“Really?” Jake asks.

“Yeah, she was more than willing to let you spend Christmas with us.”

“I already love your mom.”

“Alright, come on in, Prince Charming. Ready to meet my family?”

Jake adjusts his blazer and you have to pretend like your heart didn’t speed up. “I was born ready,” and for the final kill, he runs a hand through his hair. You almost faint on the spot. Since when was Jake this attractive to you? I mean, obviously, he was handsome, but you’ve never felt your heart palpitate like this before.

You’ve never seen your family so still and silent the moment you step into their line of sight with Jake. “Is that your boyfriend, Y/N?” One of your cousins teases you, earning a couple of snickers from your other cousins.

“Uh, no. This is Jake Sim. He’s my -- my friend from college. His parents are overseas at the moment, so I invited him over for dinner. Sorry he’s late, you know how assessments get during winter break.”

“He’s very handsome, Y/N. Are you sure you’re just friends?” One of your aunts asks, out of pure curiosity.

You flush bright red. “Aunty!”

“It was just an innocent question, dear,” your uncle, and her husband, defends. “Come join us, Jake. Have you had dinner yet?”

Jake smiles politely, taking a seat in the new chair that was beside yours. You steal a glance at your mother who smiles back smugly. “I have had dinner,” Jake responds. “My mom bought me some samgyeopsal before she left.” He plays along with the cover story you made up for him.

“Oh no, samgyeopsal won’t do you any good, honey,” your mother cuts in. “Do you like lasagna?”

“I love lasagna,” Jake responds, his eyes twinkling.

Your mother hpmhs, “You should have some of my lasagna. My lasagna is the best lasagna in all of America.”

“Too bad Aunt Yeeun ate it all,” snickers your cousin, Daisy.

“Too bad, indeed,” your mother says, glaring at her older sister.

Yeeun pokes out her tongue in retaliation, and the whole table dissolves into laughter. You glance at Jake, who stares back and smiles, his foot nudging yours beneath the table. “It’s okay, Mrs. L/N. I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“Call me Areum, honey,” your mother says, flushing. “And are you sure? I’m sure I could find something that wasn’t eaten by my good-for-nothing siblings.”

Grumbles are heard but your mother pays no attention to them. “If I can’t find anything, then I’ll have to serve you dessert. Will you be okay with eating my Christmas cookies? They won Y/N’s middle school’s Christmas fair baking competition three years in a row. However, when Myeong brought them to the fair, they decided that darn Dana’s cookies were better. I’m pretty sure the judges were being biased. Or racist --”

“I’m hungry,” Myeong interrupts, whining. “Fuss over Jake later! Let’s go serve everyone dessert now!” Myeong leaps out of her chair, sending you a look, before tugging on Areum’s arm. “Come on, mama! Jake can decide for himself if he wants to eat or not.”

Your mother sighs. “Alright. I’ll be back with dessert.”

The table launches into conversations with your mother gone, bombarding Jake with questions to which he answers all with ease. Beside you, Lila nudges you. “Was he the one who called you?”

You nod your head. “Yeah.”

Lila smirks. “Just friends, huh?”

You groan and kick her shin beneath the table. “Shut the fuck up.”

—-

The rest of dinner is spent happily. Jake easily converses with your relatives, and it seems like he gets along well with all of them. You hate the way your heart flutters at that thought. As Jake had said, it was almost like he was born to please your relatives, based on the way they smile whenever Jake responds to them with great enthusiasm.

Even your younger cousins enjoy Jake’s presence. He distracts them as the adults clean up and get ready for the movie marathon with pictures of his dog, Layla. He also plays them a couple of videos which gets your entire family cooing over the dog.

You sit in the corner of the living room, with a slight frown on your face. The older cousins were all hanging out together, thankful someone else was willingly distracting the younger ones. “Why the frown, Y/N?” Myeon asks you, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” you answer, schooling your expression into a neutral one.

“Jake Sim, he’s the son of that one CEO, right? Sim Corporations, or something?” One of your cousins, Daniel, asks.

“Yeah,” you nod your head.

“Damn,” whistles Daniel, “through Jake, you basically have connections to the entire corporate world, Y/N.”

“Good thing I’m not a business major,” you retort.

“But I will be next year,” Daniel responds. “Do you think --”

“If you want to use Jakes’s connections, you have to get buddy-buddy with him, Daniel. I’m not your lapdog.”

Daniel huffs. “Fine, loser.”

You grip the armchair pillow and whack Daniel with it. “I’m not a loser, freak.”

“Alright,” your uncle claps his hands loudly, “let’s get this marathon on the road! Adults, help yourself to some eggnog, minors, there’s some soda and juices for you. And yes, Daniel, we got you your gross dill pickle chips.”

Chaos descends as everyone fights for the best seats, the best drinks, and the best snacks. You’re content with staying in the armchair in the corner of the living room. It didn’t really give you the best view of the television, but you’ve seen these movies hundreds of times. You could practically recite every line of all three movies by heart.

Jake approaches you, holding two glasses of cola.

“Hey,” Jake greets, handing you one glass. “I feel like we haven’t had time to talk.”

“It seems my family is smitten with you, Jake.”

“I do seem to have that effect on everyone I meet,” Jake hums in agreement.

“Come on, let’s cuddle,” you say, pulling Jake onto the chair. “Unless you want to move closer. I know you wanted to watch these movies.”

“It’s okay,” Jake waves you off, “there’s always another Christmas to watch them with you.”

You ignore how your heart explodes, painting your body a lovesick pink.

After a lot of adjustments, you end up with your back pressed against the arm of the armchair, and your legs thrown over Jake’s lap. The first fifteen minutes of the movie had already gone by by the time you and Jake pay attention and instead of trying to catch Jake up, you ask him about his own Christmas dinner.

Jake told you it was the same Christmas dinner he’d been going to for twenty years, but it was the first time his older brother wasn’t there and Jake couldn’t handle not having his brother around, so he left.

“Thank you for having me,” Jake whispers.

“Thank you for trusting me,” you respond.

“How could I not?” Jake’s eyes were wide, “You have a trusting face.”

“Oh, so you’re friends with me for my face?” You scowl.

Jake muffles his giggles. “Yes.”

You huff and look away from Jake to watch Scott and Carol lean in to kiss beneath a mistletoe.

“Y/N,” Jake whispers. “I like you for your face and your heart.”

“Really?”

Jake nods. “Really.”

“Well, I like you for your money and your connections to the corporate world.”

“You don’t even major in business!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Y/N,” Jake gives you a pointed look and you sigh.

“Fine. I don’t like you because of your money or your connections, I like you because of your face and your heart.”

“Would you ever want to get married?”

You stare at Jake, shocked by the sudden change of topic. “What? Where did this come from, Jake?”

“My parents brought up marriage when they talked about our relationship. They said we shouldn’t date if we aren’t thinking about marriage.”

“Well, I mean,” you sigh, “if you ask nicely, then I’ll probably say yes.”

It’s silent for a few moments before Jake coughs loudly. You get stares from your sister and a few of your cousins, but you ignore them. “You -- you would want to marry me?”

“I mean --” you blink, confused. “That’s what we were talking about, right?”

“I was -- I was just asking if you want to get married. In general. Not to me.”

“Oh.” Your face flushes. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jake intertwines your hands together and squeezes three times. “You’re cute when you make mistakes.”

“Shut up,” you groan.

Jake laughs softly, his eyes shining with adoration.

—-

“Do you think I could stay the night?” Jake asks you after he finishes saying goodbye to all of your relatives. The goodbyes took longer than usual because everyone was clamoring to talk to Jake. You didn’t understand all the fuss over Jake.

“Stay -- stay the night?”

“Or not. It’s okay, Y/N.”

“No --”

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night, sweetheart,” your mother cuts. “You’ll just have to share a bed with Y/N, our guest room is a bit.. preoccupied. I’ve been cleaning out the attic.”

Jake looks over at you. “I’m okay with sharing a bed. Are you? If not, I can sleep on the floor or just go home.”

You eye your mom carefully. She’s never been this open and welcoming to a boy staying the night. In your bed. “Yeah…I’m fine with it.”

“Y/N and Jake sharing a bed!” Myeong sings in a teasing voice as she bounces up the stairs. “I’ll make sure to turn on my white noise!” Both you and Jake flush a deep red while your mother scolds Myeong for her words.

“I’ll go find you some clothes, Jake,” your mother smiles warmly at the boy beside you and disappears up the stairs, leaving you alone with Jake.

“Won’t your parents be concerned about your whereabouts?” You ask Jake, leading him into the kitchen.

“I told them I was at Sunghoon’s,” Jake answers, leaning against the counter as you fill two glasses with water. He gratefully takes one of the glasses and drinks it all within seconds. “They won’t really be worried that much. They’ve never been the kind of parents to worry.”

You give Jake a gentle look and take the empty glass from him, rinsing it and making room for it in the dishwasher. “Your family is very fun,” Jake says, “they all…love each other.”

“I guess they’re fun. They can be a bit annoying and frustrating at times.”

“But you love them, though.”

“They loved you tonight, Jake.” You tell him, sensing the underlying tone of Jake’s words. You reach out to take his hand into yours as you stand at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re probably welcome to all family gatherings in the future.”

“Really?” Jake asks in slight disbelief.

“Would I lie to you, Jake? Everyone loved you tonight.”

In the darkness of the living room, standing in silence, you can feel Jake. Jake is all over you. You feel as though you’re one with Jake, and everything you think, Jake is also thinking. You feel and hear every inhale and exhale of Jake’s.

With his other hand, Jake cups your cheek, and you immediately sink into the feeling. “Y/N,” it’s like Jake is feeling the same as you. He doesn’t dare to raise his voice. “I --”

“Jake, would you like to take a shower?” Your mother stands at the top of the stairs.

You rip yourself away from Jake, clenching and unclenching your hand as your mind races. “Oh, yes, that would be nice, Areum.”

“I’ll go get you a towel,” Areum smiles and turns back around, heading for the linen closet.

Jake turns to you. “Y/N --”

“You should go take a shower, Jake.”

Jake hesitates.

“I’ll see you in my room.” You don’t think you’ll be able to handle talking to Jake alone for the rest of the night. You climb the stairs with speed, leaving Jake in the dust. Reaching your room, you pull out your phone and fire a text to Wonyoung, your heart speeding, finally realizing why yourheart races around Jake.

By the time Jake finishes his shower and stands in the doorway of your room, you’re changed and separating the bed in two halves with pillows you stole from your mom. “What are you doing?” Jake asks you, drying his hair with a yellow towel.

“When we’re sleeping, we need to stay to our sides. We can’t cross the pillow line,” you explain to Jake, slipping beneath the covers on your side.

“Why do we need halves all of a sudden?” Jake asks, throwing his towel over your desk chair. “We’ve never had halves like this when we’ve laid in bed together.”

Your face flushes. “That’s -- that’s different.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Is it?”

You scowl. “My house, my bedroom, my rules.”

Jake climbs into bed, making sure to keep to his side of the bed. “Goodnight, Y/N.” Jake gives you a sweet smile that disarms you completely.

“Fuck it,” you groan. You grab the pillows -- that had taken a lot of time to set up -- and you throw them to the ground. “I do like to cuddle things when I sleep, Jake. And since I removed my plushies for you to fit, I guess you could be a good substitute.”

Jake grins with a glint in his eyes that tells you he doesn’t believe your bluff. He opens his arms and you immediately curl up to his chest, your ear pressed to his chest, and there, you can hear his heartbeat. It’s beating rapidly and you allow your delusions to take over.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jake says, his voice close to your ear.

“Goodnight, Jake,” you mumble back.

—-

“Are you sure I look okay?” You ask Jake nervously as you sit in his car. A week after winter break ended, Jake had told you his parents wanted to meet you, and no matter how desperately you wanted to say no, you agreed to join Jake for dinner this weekend. You’re parked outside his parents’ house. It’s tall, and spiraling, and reminds you just how rich Jake was. You’re fretting over your look as if Jake hasn’t already complimented you a thousand times tonight. 

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” And, as always, Jake’s words of affection make you blush.

“Alright,” you say, “let’s do this.”

Jake nods and squeezes your hand before letting go.

“Remember,” Jake says in a low voice as you walk up to the front door, gravel crunching beneath the uncomfortable high-heels Wonyoung shoved you into, “we can leave. Whenever you want. We don’t have to stick around for the entire night, I’ll make up an excuse if you want to leave, okay?”

You kiss Jake’s cheek in lieu of a response.

Jake doesn’t bother to knock on the door, he just pushes it open. A multitude of shoes sit in the foyer, and you turn to Jake who is helping you take off your coat. “How big is this family dinner, exactly?”

Jake gives you a sheepish smile. “My parents, uncles and aunts, and cousins. I don’t know if Jaehyun will be here though.”

You can’t help but feel sorely underprepared for this. Why didn’t Jake let you know beforehand that you would be meeting his entire family? Your stomach rolls over at the thought, and you feel nausea wash over you. An uncomfortable itch appears in your throat -- no cough or clearing of a throat removes that itch as you walk from the foyer to the dining room where your demise awaits.

“You didn’t think to tell me?” You mumble to Jake, half anxious, half annoyed.

“It slipped my mind,” Jake murmurs back and you withhold a scoff.

You can’t help but feel intimidated as you enter the dining hall, gripping Jake’s hand tightly. His aunts, uncles, cousins, and parents mill about the room, talking and laughing forcefully with each other. The atmosphere doesn’t at all feel comfortable. It’s a weird atmosphere, it feels tense and taut.

Hyunjae is the first to spot Jake. He breaks out into a grin and approaches Jake, a girl with dyed red hair follows behind, her eyes glued to her phone as she frowns. Next to you, Jake inhales sharply and his shoulders roll back like he’s prepared for an attack.

“Jake,” Hyunjae greets, the smile not slipping from his face. He looks at you and his smile only grows. “Y/N. What a pleasure to see you both here.”

“The same can’t be said for you,” Jake responds, his voice tight.

The red-headed girl finally looks up, pocketing her phone and taking a sip of her champagne. “Jake,” her voice is soft, tinkling. You don’t think you’ve ever seen more perfect eyes, nose, and mouth on someone before. “Who are you?” She asks, out of pure curiosity. Her eyes shine and you try to search for some kind of double meaning.

“Y/N L/N,” you answer, feeling your heart tremble beneath the eyes pinned to your face. “Who are you?”

The girl laughs. It’s high and tinkling, like her voice. “I’m Francesa Choi, nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Jake’s ex-girlfriend.

“Jaeyun?” A voice calls out. You watch as an intimidating woman walks over to the group. Her eyes are piercing, and her hair is black as the night. It doesn’t take much for you to realize this woman is Jake’s mother. Lagging behind her is Jake’s father. Pepper hair, creased lines on his forehead, and a frown. You wonder how Jake is able to be who he is with parents like these.

“This must be the Y/N you talk highly of,” her eyes darted to you, and then back at Jake, like you weren’t worth her time. You try to pry your hand from Jake’s, but he only tightens his grip further. You're sure he’s cutting off blood to your hand.

Jake’s father watches you silently. He doesn’t say anything, remaining behind his wife as she does all the talking; all the commanding.

“Are you going to introduce us to her?”

Jake clears his throat. “Mom, Dad, this is Y/N L/N, Y/N, this is my mom and dad.”

Your mother’s words echo around your head. “Does he have any relations with Hana and Jaeho Sim? The CEO of Sim Corporations? I know how tough they can be. They were both forces to be reckoned with at college.”

Jake’s mother -- Hana -- gives you a short nod. “Nice to meet you, Y/N, I hope I get to know you well tonight.”

Not I hope we get to know each other well. You learn something about Hana Sim very early on. She’s the authorization figure of the Sim household. She expects you to tell her everything about you, and you get nothing in return.

Dinner is served, and with Jake to your left and his ex-girlfriend to your right, your nerves skyrocket. Jake’s ex-girlfriend is pretty -- she even smells pretty. No wonder Jake dated her. As the conversation is passed around the table, you also learn Francesa Choi is smart. She’s pretty, smart, and confident. It’s clear, by the way Hana praises and smiles at Francesa, that she’s thoroughly beguiled by the girl.

When Hana Sims speaks to you, though, it’s dull. Hana appears to look bored as she decides to make conversation with you, and for the first time that night, the table falls silent. Every Sim wants to know about you, apparently.

“How did you meet my son, Y/N?” Hana asks, picking up her wine glass.

“I told you how we met --”

“I want to hear her talk, Jaeyun,” Hana cuts off her son.

“We meet at a party,” you respond, hands curling on your lap beneath the table. Your nails dig into your palms to keep you grounded. “It was love at first sight.”

Any normal family would coo over love at first sight, but the Sim family only shares looks. Looks that are clearly laced with judgment. Beside you, Jake offers no help. He doesn’t even reach out to rest his hand on your thigh. You feel alone.

“Love at first sight?” Hana muses. “So, you love my son?”

It takes a lot of effort for you to breathe. Your chest feels heavy like there’s something crushing it. You steal a glance at Jake and he doesn’t look back, content with admiring his plate of food in front of him. Your heart pangs.

“Yes,” you say, willing the nerves out of your voice. “I love Jake.”

Hana doesn’t look impressed. “You’ve only been dating for a month.” That’s not a question -- it’s a statement. “How could you fall in love that fast?”

“He’s easy to love,” your response is almost instantaneous, your mouth working faster than your brain. Your response is honest. In a way. And that shocks and scares you.

Hana still doesn’t look impressed. “Tell me a bit about yourself, Y/N. What’s your major?”

“I’m Majoring in Linguistics. This is my first year.” Your nails dig deeper into your palms and Jake continues to offer no support.

“So you’re…eighteen? Nineteen?”

“Eighteen.”

Hana nods, reaching for her wine glass and taking a sip. The silence is suffocating. Just how nosey and judgmental was the Sim family?

“And your family?” Hana asks, “Any siblings?”

“I have a younger sister, Myeong.”

“And your parents?”

“My dad passed away when I was three, so it’s just been my mom, me, and Myeong for as long as I can remember.”

Hana’s eyes narrow. You gulp and your heart hammers away in your chest. You feel a bad omen circling the air. Whatever is said next will either be your downfall or finally impress Hana.

“Did your mom ever get remarried?”

You shake your head. “No.”

Words tumble out of Hana’s mouth, and it sounds like Korean. The ground gives out beneath your feet and your heart drops out of your body. You don’t know Korean. Your mother never had the time to teach you, and she slowly lost her mother tongue. Your father died when you were young. You grew up feeling isolated, not really understanding where you fit in; you were Korean, but you didn’t speak Korean, and you’ve never been to Korea. But you had an American citizenship, so you were American, except you didn’t look American.

“I -- I don’t know Korean,” the words tumble out of your mouth -- the words were the bad omen you felt in the air moments ago.

If possible, the silence is louder than before.

“You’re Korean,” Hana states, her voice a foreign emotion.

“My mom and dad were first-generation immigrants,” you answer, your nails beginning to cut into your palm. “But my dad died before he could teach me, and my mom was always busy with work.”

“Have you ever visited Korea?”

“No,” you respond, Hana’s eyes cutting into your bones.

“I pity you,” Hana says, her words sharp like claws. Her eyes dart to Jake, and this time her words sting. “I thought I taught you better.”

Jake’s silence stings even more.

You were able to excuse yourself to the bathroom after dinner. You grip the edge of the sink and squeeze your eyes shut tightly, suddenly longing for the embrace of your mother. Hana’s words, her eyes -- her everything has you a shuddering mess. Who knew someone could make simple words sound so cruel?

The door swings open and Francesa steps in. She smiles and steps up to the sink next to you, pulling out some lip glass from her handbag. You watch her as she applies another layer onto her lips.

“That was a hard conversation to listen to,” Francesa says, her eyes meeting yours through the mirror.

“Yeah,” you mumble, not really in the mood to talk.

“It takes a lot to impress Hana.”

“Clearly.”

Francesa pats your shoulder. “I’m sure you will find something to impress Hana with.” You don’t know why but it sounds so condescending. “But I’m not surprised to see Jake hasn’t changed.” Francesa laughs to herself, finding something funny.

“What are you laughing about?” You ask Francesa.

“When we were dating, I was exactly like you when meeting his family. He threw you in the deep end, didn’t he? Told you were meeting his parents, but actually took you to a family dinner? And when his mother was grilling me, he was silent -- just like tonight.” Francesa sighs, turning to you. “He doesn’t have the guts to talk back to his parents. His older brother did, and that’s why he’s not at family dinners anymore.”

“I just..” Francesa trails off. “I just hoped tonight would be different, you know? You and Jake…you guys look happy and in love and I just thought that this would be the night where Jake finally speaks up and does something about the way his mother treats people.”

Francesa shakes her head, giving you a small smile. “It’s a shame your love couldn’t change that.”

“Why would I need to change Jake?” You ask, frowning.

“Oh, Y/N.” Francesa sighs. “Whenever I would come for a family dinner, Jake would sit in silence and let Hana pick at me, probing me to reveal personal secrets and shame me for them. She wanted to mold me into the perfect wife for Jake. Whatever flaw I had, Hana would take it and cut it up into a thousand more flaws, throw it back at me, and tell me I had to fix them all or else I would never be good enough for her son. Dating Jake made me hate myself, and him, so we broke up.”

“You cheated on him, though.”

“I did,” Francesa agrees easily.

“Why?”

“Hyunjae’s nothing like Jake.”

The drive home is silent. Jake attempts to speak, but after his fifth try, he stops. Your mind was a mess, recounting Hana’s sharp words, and Francesa’s story. Everything was a mess and you felt as if you never really knew Jake.

“Y/N,” Jake tries again.

You’re sitting in his car, outside your dorm. You don’t move to leave the car. You should probably confront the tense air before it gets worse the longer you continue to ignore it. You turn to Jake, trying to keep your emotions under lock.

“Jake,” you respond. “I think we need some space. Just for a few days.”

Jake looks confused. “What do you mean, Y/N?”

“What do you mean?” Your voice is filled with rage you didn’t know you had. Watching Jake shift away, regret fills you. “Sorry, Jake. Sorry.” You look away, out the front window, and this time the tears come without warning. When you look back at Jake, you’re crying silently, the hurt inflicted by Hana filling up the space where your heart used to sit.

“If you can’t tell your mother to shut the fuck up and stop prying into my personal life, then we can’t be friends, Jake. Your silence really hurt me tonight.”

Jake’s mouth opens and closes. He doesn’t know what to say, and for some reason, that hurts you.

“You didn’t -- you didn’t even offer support, like a hand on my thigh, or a hand to hold. You left me -- you left me alone tonight, Jake.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake says, but he doesn’t even look like he means it. He’s still confused.

“Just -- just don’t talk to me for a couple of days. Unless we need to act like a couple for some stupid event.”

“Y/N --”

You smile sadly at Jake. “Jake, you’re meant to be in love with me. Your silence at dinner told a different story.”

You climb out of the car, close the passenger door, and walk away from Jake.

—-

Three days. You haven’t spoken to Jake in three days. You’ve kept yourself distracted by hanging out with Wonyoung and your friends and actually completing your assignments before the deadline, and handing them in once the submissions open.

Deciding to give yourself a break, you take this chance to check your phone. Youngeun had sent you something on Instagram, and so you pause the game you were playing with Rei and check Youngeun’s messages. She had sent you someone’s story. Clicking on it, you watch the story and your stomach turns over. It was Jake with Francesa.

Normally, you aren’t one for presumptions and letting miscommunication get in between your relationships with those close to you, but when it comes to Jake, you can’t help but get insecure. He’s rich, he’s popular, he’s handsome. He can have anyone he wants, and yet there you were, faking dating him. And yet, there you were, falling in love with him.

Love. That word strikes you across your face. Love. Since when were you in love with Jake?

You recall the sudden development you felt over Winter break; you like Jake. And not in a fake way. You truly like Jake and it’s messing with your brain. You can’t handle Jake’s gentle touches and kind words, and you can’t handle his kisses and flirtatious remarks. This fake relationship is driving you insane and soon you feel like you’ll snap. You fear what the consequences would be when that day comes. 

But when did love come into play?

The overwhelming emotions of love and like terrorize you. You click off the story where Francesa and Jake were sharing giggles and you leave Youngeun on seen. Nausea washes over you. Maybe this temporary space needs to be a permanent space.

You excuse yourself from your group of friends and walk back to your dorm. The chilly wind whips through the air and seeps through your hoodie, chilling you to the bone. Maybe you shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself, maybe you need to give Jake the chance to explain himself. Maybe you were just overreacting. Yes, Jake had let his mother embarrass you in front of his relatives, but that shouldn’t define who he is as a person. Right? Yes, Jake was hanging out with his ex-girlfriend who cheated on him, but nothing is happening between them. Right?

Your head begins to spin.

You stumble into the dorm and crash into Ricky. “Y/N!” The platinum blond exclaims, “I was just looking for you. Someone is here to see you.”

Immediately, you think of Jake. Has Jake finally realized what he did wrong three nights ago? Has Jake realized he loves you the way you love him? “Really?”

Ricky nods his head. “They’re in the common space.”

“Thanks Ricky,” you brush past the boy and with eager footsteps, you step into the common space -- only to falter.

Jake’s mother stands in the center of the room. Your heart stops and your breath catches.

“Mrs. Sim?”

The raven-haired woman turns at the sound of you calling her. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Y/N,” she steps over to you. “Nice to see you again.” You knew these were false pleasantries. “How is college going?”

“It’s going well,” you respond stiffly. “Jake isn’t with me.”

Mrs. Sim chuckles. “Oh, I’m not here for my son.” Her eyes pin you to the spot. “I’m here to see you, Y/N. I value my son’s partners highly, and I think we should have a talk.” She gestures to the couch behind you. “Shall we sit?”

Hesitantly, you sit on the couch. Mrs. Sim relaxes in the spot next to you, and she pulls a white envelope out of her handbag and passes it over to you. “Y/N, I’ll be honest. I don’t think you’re right for my son.”

“What?” You draw your eyes away from the white envelope you were holding. “I’m not…right?”

“Korean heritage is valued highly in our family --”

“I’m Korean, Mrs. Sim.”

“But you cannot speak Korean.”

“But I can learn!” You refute.

Mrs. Sim raises her hand, silencing you. “There is more, of course. I just simply don’t think you and Jake will last. I am only saving you from heartbreak.”

“Mrs. Sim, I’m sorry but you don’t get to --”

“You feel as though you don’t belong in Jake’s world, Y/N. Am I correct?” Mrs. Sim’s eyes are narrowed as she addresses you, her voice one that commands to be listened to.

That is something you can’t refute. It’s something that had been bubbling up within you ever since that dinner -- ever since you realized just how rich Jake was. He lived and existed in a higher society you will never understand. In a society you can only dream of existing within. You don’t get the rules, and you don’t understand how to present yourself in that rich society Jake is ingrained in. You feel so out of place, and you’ve only attended a family dinner.

“With time, I think I can feel comfortable --”

“Y/N. You are not fit for my son. You should break up with him.”

You scoff. “What makes you think I would break up with Jake? I love him.”

Mrs. Sim sighs. “But does he love you? At dinner, it didn’t seem like he did. My son was more than happy to let you embarrass yourself.”

“Embarrass myself? That was -- that was your fault--”

“In that envelope is money. You should open it.”

You open it. It’s a check. Your eyes widen at the amount of money scrolled on the check. “What--what’s this for?”

“Break up with Jake and that money is yours.”

“I don’t -- I don’t want your money.” You throw the envelope on the ground. “I’m not cheap, Mrs. Sim.”

Mrs. Sim stands from the couch and brushes off her dress. “I have said what I wanted to say. I can only hope you listen to me, Y/N, and realize that you will never be the one for Jake, no matter what he says, or what you tell yourself.”

“Jake is his own person. He is twenty. He can make decisions for himself. Why are you still controlling him?”

Mrs. Sim glances over her shoulder. “My son is still green when it comes to the world. He does not know what is best for him because I sheltered him from the real world growing up.”

“He can make decisions for himself,” you repeat.

Mrs. Sim walks away.

A few hours later, with help of Wonyoung’s stalking skills and social connections, you find yourself back on Greek Row, and outside a frat house that was famous across campus because of their end-of-exams parties. Jake was at this party tonight with the rest of Enhypen.

Wonyoung was already chatting up some older college student and you head inside the frat yourself. It was already packed, horny and sweaty bodies pushing up against each other, and the smell of weed hangs suspended in the air. You start looking for Jake, and you immediately head for the back porch. You don’t find Jake there, however you find Sunghoon and Heeseung setting up a new game of beer pong. “Sunghoon! Heeseung!” You call out, rushing toward them. “Where’s Jake?”

Sunghoon beams at you. “Y/N! Hey! Jake took Sunoo to the bathroom. He’s wasted.”

“Awesome! Thanks!” You dash back into the house and climb the stairs, hoping there was a bathroom on the second floor of this frat. Pushing open every door, you only find bedrooms with two, or three people, making out on the beds. With apology after apology, your search for Jake and Sunoo and a bathroom is futile.

Then, a door at the end of the hall opens and out spills Jake and Sunoo. Your heart leaps in your chest, and you can’t tell if it’s in excitement or nervousness for what’s about to happen. “Jake!” You shout.

Jake perks up hearing your voice, and his lips break out into a massive grin. He abandons Sunoo’s side and rushes up to you, wrapping you in a warm hug. He sloppily kisses your cheek. “Y/N!” He was tipsy. “I missed you so much.” He holds you tighter and nuzzles his face in your neck.

This was going to be hard.

“Jake,” you say softly. “We need to talk.”

—-

You and Jake were sitting at a bus shelter near the frat house throwing the party. Your leg shakes as you work up the courage to end the fake relationship you have with Jake. You don’t know why you were hesitating all of a sudden. Why were you afraid of ending this relationship with Jake?

“Jake,” you start softly. “I think -- I think.” You inhale. You can do this. You can spit it out. “I think we should end the fake relationship.”

“Huh?” Jake tilts his head to the side. He really is a puppy.

“Jake. We need to break up. Or whatever.”

Jake’s eyes widen. “Break up? Why?”

This was the hard part. You’ve never dated someone so you’ve never experienced a break up before. How were you supposed to do this? How were you supposed to tell Jake to never contact you again because you don't fit in his world? You don’t fit beside him?

“I’m calling this whole agreement off,” you rephrase. You aren’t sure if this is an actual break up if you were never in a real relationship in the first place.

“Why?” Jake asks, and he looks sober. “We don’t have that much longer left.”

“I just feel like I did what you needed me to do. I stayed your girlfriend long enough to meet your parents. Now, it just feels pointless to keep this whole agreement going. I’ll transfer you back the money, and you can stop driving me around everywhere.”

“Y/N,” Jake says gently. He reaches for your hand and you retract it, dismissing the hurt on his face.

The thing about love; you don’t understand it. You’ve never understood love because you’ve never been in love. It’s confusing and tricky. Why does your heart beat a certain way around Jake, and not anybody else? You love your friends, sure, but it’s a different love to the one you feel with Jake. Love is weird, and confusing, and tricky, and unforgiving. You feel naive at the hands of love because it makes everything you thought you understood, more complex and hard to understand.

You used to know the difference between like and love and now you’re not so sure anymore.

You used to find love confusing, but now it’s complex with more instructions written in the fine print you never read in the first place. When your heart begins to beat a different tune, everything in you changes; how you behave, how you talk, how you dress, and how you look. Love changes you. For better or for worse.

“Jake, I don’t think we should stay friends after,” you admit, standing from the seat. The lamplight next to the bus shelter flickers slightly. A strong wind picks up and whips your hair into your face. Jake doesn’t move an inch, hurt and confusion plastered all over his face. “We’re two different people from two different families. We would’ve never worked out, no matter how badly I wanted this to be real.” The confession slips from your lips without a warning.

Jake looks anguished and he tries to reach for you again. You take a step back and the wind blows more harshly, rattling the bus shelter. “Jake. I don’t fit in with you. Or your family. I don’t fit in the world you’re living in.”

Jake tries to interrupt but you don’t let him. “It hurt me that night, when you offered no support, when you barraged me with your family dinner. I was underprepared, Jake, and I was left humiliated as your mother ripped my life apart in front of your relatives who I really wanted to impress no matter if they don’t hold value in your life.”

“Jake, I really, really like you.” You don’t understand the difference between like and love. Maybe you never will. Maybe you just really like Jake. “But we’d never work if this became real because right now, it’s fake, and I feel…” You shrug, unable to form a coherent sentence. “It’s just messing with me. And the dinner --”

“It was my mom, Y/N,” Jake interrupts, finally finding his voice. “You know how she is.”

“She’s manipulative and controlling. You told me yourself Jake,” you shoot back. “And I’m not looking for a fight Jake, I just think it’s time you actually put actions to your words. She shouldn’t still control your life. You’re twenty. Not sixteen.”

“Y/N --”

“Your mother humiliated me, Jake. She made me feel stupid for not knowing Korean.” Tears well in your eyes. “And you know what’s even stupider? She didn’t even believe for a second that you loved me. Your silence really spoke a thousand words, Jake. And not just for me.”

Jake sighs and glances away and towards the party that was happening behind him. “Is this because of the Instagram story Fran posted of us?”

You shake your head, bitterness spilling across your tongue. “No. I know you don’t like her like that, Jake. I mean, for a moment I was jealous but then I remembered she cheated on you and I know you’re better than that, Jake. And then I remembered, you didn’t tell me what ‘family dinner’ actually meant, and then you let your mother humiliate me in front of, pretty much, your entire family, and you’re still acting like you did nothing wrong when all I wanted was your support. Is that too much to ask for? I really tried to sell this relationship, Jake, but your mother saw right through us because of your silence.”

Jake drops his head, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You huff and the first tear drops. “Your family is really shitty, Jake.”

“I know.” 

“And you can be better than them.”

“I know.” 

“I really wished I didn’t feel so alone during that dinner.” 

Jake raises his head. He looks pitiful. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“Don’t contact me, Jake, we’re done.” 

Jake physically recoils at your words. “Y/N --” 

“I hope I’m able to get over you, Jake. I really hope I am.” You step away from Jake, and above you, lightning crackles through the sky. “I had a nice time with you, Jake.” 

Jake lets you go as thunder booms overhead. 

—-

“Do you think I was overreacting?” You ask Wonyoung as you lie on your bed. It’s been a week since you last saw or heard from Jake and as much as you wish you didn’t, all you could think about was Jake. How stupid, immature, and hypocritical of you. “Maybe I was. Maybe it wasn’t that deep.” 

Wonyoung hums. “No. I think you did good. You know what you want in a relationship, Y/N. You want someone who can stand up for you against his parents. Your reaction was valid.” 

You roll over in your bed and face Wonyoung who was probably texting Sunghoon as she lay on her own bed across from you. “I miss him,” you admit softly and then promptly shove your face in your pillow to scream. “But I hate him for what he did -- but I really really miss him.” 

“You liked him a lot, Y/N,” Wonyoung says gently. “Of course you’ll miss him.” 

You roll onto your back again and stare at the ceiling. “He was nice to me. And kind. And thoughtful, and he was funny and charming and so polite and he made me feel warm and safe and comfortable and --” You look at Wonyoung who was smiling at you, her phone discarded. “I think I almost fell in love with him.” 

“I think he almost fell in love with you too,” Wonyoung says. 

You shake your head. “I don’t know about that.” 

Wonyoung checks the time on her phone and gasps, leaping off her bed. “Fuck. It’s so late. I need to get going for my lecture. Do you want me to buy anything when I’m walking back?”

“Chocolate milk?” You ask Wonyoung. “I think I need chocolate milk.” 

Wonyoung smiles and pats your shoulder. “Of course.” 

You lie in bed for the rest of the day, thinking over your relationship with Jake. You hate to admit it, but to you, for the most part, the relationship felt real -- especially when Jake joined your family during Christmas. Nothing felt more real than you curled up on Jake’s lap, sharing laughter and trading jokes. 

“Hey Wonyoung,” you ask a few hours later, after she’s returned with your chocolate milk. (The bottle is now empty as it lies at the foot of your bed.) “Do you think I was a bit too naive in the relationship? Sure, we’re only two years apart, but our maturity is probably ten years apart. Was I asking for too much?”

Wonyoung shakes her head. “You weren’t asking for too much. Jake was just giving too little. He wasn’t providing you with the emotional support a relationship needs.” 

“But when we were alone,” you say quietly, “he did. He comforted me. He told me reassuring words and made me feel wanted. I don’t know why he did what he did at dinner. Clearly that’s a can I’ll never have the privilege of popping open or asking about.” Sighing, you squeeze your stuffed toy dog closer to your chest. “But I do think I was naive. I fell too fast for Jake. I am only eighteen, after all.” 

“You fell first but he fell harder,” Wonyoung says. 

“You think so?”

“I know so.” 

You shut your eyes and sigh again. “When I think of Jake, I think of him spending Christmas with me and my family. He’s just…so happy. So fucking happy. And it makes me feel happy. See? I fell too fast, and too deep, and now I don’t know if I’ll ever get over him.” 

Wonyoung laughs softly. “And why do you think he felt happy, Y/N?”

A light blush tints your cheeks. “I like to imagine he felt happy because he was with me.”

—-

Exam season creeps up on you fast, and to deal with your stress you start going out on runs -- like right now. With loud Olivia Rodrigo blasting through your airpods, you jog down the sidewalk of a quiet suburban street. Since summer is near, the sun burns brighter and sweat easily soaks you. 

On this run, you bump into Riki. 

“Riki!” You exclaim in surprise when you spot the familiar boy walking towards the nearby park that houses a baseball diamond. He’s carrying his overstuffed baseball bag and has headphones on, but at the sound of your voice, he whirls around and tugs them off. 

“Y/N,” he responds, his voice smooth and neutral. “Wanna play baseball?”

So, you find yourself pitching to Riki and retrieving the balls he hits out into the field, deja vu washing over you. He doesn’t speak to you until the end. Concern that you’ve angered him washes over you as you watch him take a long sip of water from his water bottle. 

“I’m not mad at you,” Riki says, wiping his forehead with a towel. “So can you stop looking at me like that?”

“Sorry,” you mumble, blushing. 

“If anything, I’m glad you broke up with Jake.”

You gape at the younger boy and watch him back up his stuff. “What?” 

“He needed this wake up call. He has so much personal shit going on in his life that he never had the balls to face, and I guess whatever you said to him when you broke up with him really slapped him awake. I’ve never seen Jake this happy, or appear this light, y’know? Like before, it felt like he was dragging this dead weight around with him but ever since he cut off his family and dealt with personal issues, it’s like that dead weight is gone.” Riki harshly shoves his baseball glove into his overflowing bag. 

“I mean, you know Jake is emotionally constipated in a way.” 

You snort. “Ain’t that the truth. We would only brush the surface level of his…childhood trauma. He would tell me measly things -- like how his parents never had time for him, and how his mother was extremely controlling and his father was demanding, but that’s all. We never, like, actually talked about his feelings.” 

Riki nods his head, picking up his bat and swinging it through the air. “Jake’s actually talking about his feelings now, by the way. He’s been talking to his brother more recently and finally caved into Jay’s nagging and booked a therapy appointment.” 

“Oh wow,” your eyes widened. “Therapy?” 

Riki nods his head. “He wants to get better.” The look Riki gives you says everything. 

Running back home, your steps feel lighter. You’re able to study with a clear mind and when you exit the exam halls you feel as if you just aced all those tests. You don’t know why, but knowing that Jake is working towards a better self, makes you feel happy. You’re glad Jake is working on himself, and has support all around him. You feel the urge to reach out to him, but you fight it away by keeping yourself occupied by hanging out with Wonyoung and your friends. 

You occasionally run into Riki and Heeseung while out on your runs. They keep you updated on Jake, letting you know how he’s doing and what he’s doing. It’s nice to still be in touch with Jake’s friends, it’s nice to see that they don’t resent you for breaking up with Jake. Jay reaches out to you once, inviting you to his birthday party. You turn down the invitation and Jay says he understands. Then, he thanks you for taking care of Jake. 

Your pride holds you back from unblocking Jake on Instagram so you create a burner account solely to keep yourself updated on Jake’s whereabouts during summer break. He takes Heeseung, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki back to Milan, Italy where they shop at Prada, eat tons of pasta and pizza, and get drunk on Italian wine. Based on the stories they post, the Milan trip was quite eventful. 

The start of your second year approaches quickly and you still haven’t reached out to Jake yet. You’ve unblocked his number and drafted up a few text messages asking Jake if he wants to talk, or meet up, but you’ve never had the guts to send them. You’re afraid of the outcome, you’re afraid of finding out that Jake never wants to see you again, but you’d understand if Jake requests that. 

It’s the last day before you move back into the dormitory. You’re lounging on the couch with Myeong who is watching Crazy Rich Asians while she paints her toes. You’re laser focused on your phone, struggling to come up with a text to send to Jake. You really want to see him again. 

Someone knocks on your door.

“I’ll get it,” you tell Myeong, gladly distracting yourself from the daunting task you assigned yourself. Dressed in old, short, denim shorts, and a ratty old t-shirt that boasts Disneyland’s 50th Anniversary, you open the door. “Hi--” 

Jake stands on your doorstep, holding a bouquet of red roses. His hair is slicked back. He’s wearing a white blouse that’s been paired with black slacks. He looks breathtaking. Literally. You can’t breathe. 

“Y/N,” Jake smiles gently, and holds out the bouquet for you to take. “You look beautiful.” 

You snort, still unable to move. 

“Don't leave me hanging, Y/N,” Jake says. 

“What are you doing here, Jake?” You finally find your voice, and your arm reaches out to take hold of the rose bouquet. 

“I’ve done a lot of thinking,” Jake admits. “And a lot of that thinking has been about you.” 

You stare at Jake, wide-eyed, and if you were able to see yourself, there’s probably stars in your eyes. You grip the rose bouquet tighter. “You’ve been thinking? About me?” 

Jake nods his head. “About you. And our time together. And I realized that if we had spent more time together, I would have fallen in love with you.” 

You feel faint. “Oh, wow.” Your mouth feels dry, and it’s hard to breathe. 

“You’re very lovable, Y/N,” Jake’s smile is just as bright as the sun, and his eyes hold galaxies that are far prettier than the one you’re existing in. “And I’m sorry for making you feel alone. Friends or dating, I should never let someone feel like that. I’m sorry for not standing up for you.” 

“It’s okay, Jake,” you laugh off the insanity you’re feeling. “I’m over it. Really.” 

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Y/N.”

You smile softly, raising the roses to your nose. “It’s okay, Jake.” 

Jake nods his head. “Alright. Cool. I’m -- I’m glad.” He looks up at the sky, with tense shoulders, and closes his eyes. He looks unsure of himself and you let out a small, amused giggle. Jake glances back at you, and everything in him relaxes. He inhales deeply. “So, I was wondering, Y/N, if you’d like to go out with me. Tonight. On a real date.” 

It’s silent for a long time. 

“You can say no --”

“You’re a very hard person to get over, Jake,” you admit. 

“I am?”

You nod your head. “I think it’s stupid how you still occupy my heart.” 

“It’s stupid?”

You smile. “Very stupid. But that’s okay, because it makes me stupidly in love with you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Give me fifteen minutes. Myeong’s watching Crazy Rich Asians, so you can keep her company while I get changed and --”

Jake cuts you off with a kiss. His lips are warm against yours. When he draws away, his eyes are like molten honey. It’s like he’s melting right in front of you, love oozing from every inch of skin that you can see. “Sorry,” Jake flushes. “I couldn’t help myself. You look really cute, Y/N.” 

You draw Jake back in for another kiss. 

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (13/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex content, kind of hate sex too, oral sex, fingering, smut, the angst, drug dealing, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He didn't know why he had taken her to Heavenly Beach that day. When he thought about it afterwards, it was clear to him that it was sheer madness, the danger he had put her in by how afraid he was.

He was terrified of what his people thought of him, terrified of how they would look at him after he had shot his own brother and fled, after Aegon had suggested that he had raped their niece, after he had declared to everyone that they were actually in a relationship.

For some reason, her words about how once they appeared there together the reasons for gossip would also end calmed him down, although not for long: as soon as they stepped inside the club he regretted his decision.

Everyone's eyes were on them, or rather on her, seeing her as his toy, his whore, his momentary entertainment, his deviation that he had given vent to. With the touch of his hand on her back and shoulders he tried to remind her of his presence, he knew, however, that he had dragged her down and that there was no turning back now.

Once they sat down, once his men looked at her, he understood what he had actually done: he had exposed her, shown her to the world as something that belonged to him, his whim, a stab in the back for Daemon.

They didn't know what she knew, didn't know him as a child, that boy she played with by the sea.

He never laughed or smiled in their presence, never let anyone touch him, and the women he fucked had the same value to him as his car or a packet of cigarettes.

That is why he knew that the sight of his niece sinking into sleep from fatigue, snuggled up against his chest, was to them merely a sign of his childish excess, as if he had stolen a precious jewel from someone's collection and was now bragging about the very fact that he possessed it.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, staring dully ahead, involuntarily stroking her back with his free hand, listening to what Cole was saying to him, he wasn't sure what was better.

As long as they didn't know how deep his feelings were, they couldn't consider her as a weapon they would be able to use against him.

On the other hand, he couldn't allow them to treat her like one of the many women he fucked in the dirty toilet between one meeting and the next; he couldn't allow them to disrespect her, or worse, mock her behind her back.

To his frustration, Floris kept staring at him, fiddling with her necklace in an apparent attempt to draw his attention to her breasts: he regretted letting her suck him off once when she found him alone in one of the private rooms, regretted that for that simple relief a few months ago he now had to feel disgusted with himself, guessing that she thought his niece was as much his lover as she was.

Bullshit.

When at last everything was settled and he ordered everyone to leave them alone, he could look at her, her calm face plunged into sleep. He shook her lightly and combed her hair with his fingers, her eyelids lifting lazily, looking up at him dreamily.

"– we'll sleep here in my office and drive back to the hotel in the morning – okay? –" He whispered, feeling that when he spoke to her he was a different person.

As if he had a split personality.

His girlfriend nodded like a small child and he took her in his arms, grabbing her under her buttocks and letting her wrap her arms around his neck, walking with her down the back of the club towards the corridor where the staff rooms and his office were.

He locked them in there, wanting to make sure no one got in, and laid her down on the couch. He watched her delicate figure in thoughtfulness as he pulled his leather jacket off his shoulders, turned off the light and covered their bodies with the material, cuddling into her from behind, his hands enclosed on her breasts.

He loved how plump and soft they were under his fingers.

"– sleep – you're safe with me –" He whispered in her ear and felt her hands clamp down on his arms, holding him close, her voice like a sigh.

"– you're my Hades – and I'm your Persephone – that's how I see us –"

He froze, shocked by her words, while at the same time feeling himself grow hot: he couldn't believe how perfect a metaphor this was for their relationship.

Like him, Hades had abducted his niece, his brother's daughter, and imprisoned her in his World of the Dead.

Like him, Hades gave his wife a new name.

Rhaenys.

"– Persephone –"

He fell asleep rather quickly, tired both mentally and physically, however his dreams did not allow him to experience much rest: he dreamt that he had kidnapped her from her mother and descended with her into a dark basement, locking her in, despite her cries and despair turning the lock, thinking she would be safe with him.

He opened his eyes, terrified, when the alarm clock on his phone woke him – he rose from his seat with her, finding the switch from the lamp in complete darkness, and ran his hand over his face, thinking that he had to find a way for her not to be his hostage or prisoner.

He wanted her to be with him and he wanted her to be safe, but not at the expense of her freedom.

But how was he supposed to accomplish that?

That he didn't know.

"– I need to get a coffee at some station –" He muttered once they were in the car, starting the engine, feeling himself falling asleep in his seat. His girlfriend agreed with him and they were both silent most of the way, immersed in their thoughts.

He wondered what could be a way out of this difficult situation, proof that he didn't care about the influence he could wield over Daemon thanks to her or about making her his slave, only that she was his friend, the confidante of his secrets, his weaknesses and his worries.

And suddenly it dawned on him.

A state wedding was out of the question, because incest was illegal, but he remembered well in history situations where religious marriages had taken place between couples like them among the aristocracy in order to secure the family's fortune, they had, however, to obtain a dispensation for it.

What if they had succeeded in doing so?

If they could marry in church, be husband and wife before God?

This thought excited him so much that he felt he didn't need any more coffee, he decided, however, that he had an excellent idea where he could ask her opinion on the subject.

All he needed was an object with which to seal their decision if her answer to his fucked-up plan turned out to be positive.

Among the lollipops and sweets standing right next to the cash register, he spotted the candy bracelets that had been very popular when they were young children. He decided it might not be a ring, but it was always something, and he had no other alternative anyway.

He thought that she, of all people in the world, would appreciate his creative ingenuity.

"– look how many lollipops you have, a whole lot to choose from – I'll buy you some if you want –" He murmured, embracing her from behind, placing a soft, warm kiss on her cheek. His niece smiled broadly, snuggling into his body with a fondness from which he grew hot.

"– strawberry –" She said, and he smiled under his breath, glancing at the cashier who was waiting for them to place their order.

"– I'll have coffee, tea, two sandwiches, this strawberry lollipop and this candy bracelet –"

As they continued on their way he followed the signs to the location of the property he had inherited from his father: the notary had given him the keys to it, and although at first he felt like just throwing them out of the window, now he was glad he kept them in his trouser pocket.

"– where are we going? – you need to turn back –" Her mumbling snapped him out of his reverie, and when he glanced at her he saw that she was pale and terrified, looking at him with big eyes exactly as she had when she had woken up in his room.

She was afraid that he had deceived her again, that he would hurt her again.

He felt pain and shame at the thought, so he shook his head quickly and grasped her hand in his, wanting to reassure her.

"– no – no, baby, easy – we'll go back to the hotel, but later – there's one place I want to visit on the way – nothing bad, I promise –" He said, squeezing her fingers in his, and she didn't say another word to him, tense until she spotted the sea shoreline.

When they got out of the car he simply watched as she moved ahead of him, pulling off her shoes to sink her feet into the sand. He felt a tightness in his throat seeing her silhouette against the rising sun, thinking with regret that he had lost so many years in which he had dreamed of this moment, of them explaining everything to each other, of them talking calmly, of them being supportive of each other again.

He realised that because of her, and only because of her, that part of him from eight years ago had been preserved in his heart, the little boy locked in one of the white shells she had collected then, his hopeless attempt to prove to himself that he would see her again one day.

He moved behind her lazily, feeling the tears burning under his eyelids, the crisp sea breeze filling his lungs wonderfully – he tilted his head back, feeling strangely calm and free at the thought of what he wanted to do.

He was no longer pretending, either to himself or to her.

The way his arms embraced her from behind, the way his nose sank into her soft cheek, looking ahead at the infinite horizon, seemed so startlingly natural to him that it was even painful, the realisation that for years he had been running from this, from her, from what they could have.

"– in my fantasies, I always imagined that I would take you here again – that I would be standing with you, as I am now, watching the sun rise –" He said, smiling, letting a single tear of sadness run down his cheek, a sign of how tired and scared he was, how two parts of him were breaking him in half, unable to form one whole.

How can one destroy and create at the same time?

How can you create a healthy, happy, peaceful relationship in an environment where everything is toxic, where everyone is unhappy, where there is perpetual tension and anticipation of the next blow?

"– have you often thought about what we have lost here? –" He heard her soft, quiet voice and swallowed hard, returning his thoughts to her again, to the loud sound of the waves and the squeaking of the seagulls over their heads.

Did he often think of that?

His figure huddled in his bed, the pain in his skull after surgery so excruciating that he could only lie down and cry. The thought that he would have to wear an artificial eye, that he would have a scar on his face, that he would be disgusting made him feel like dying. He longed for her to be by his side, his friend who would know what to say, or not say anything at all but hug him, lock him in the warm embrace of her arms, letting him calm down.

His head lowered as he walked down the corridor of his school, feeling the stares of others on him, his desire to disappear, to blend into the background, to not exist. He thought that if she had been by his side, if she had chatted him up as usual, comforted him with her cheerful laughter, if she had distracted him, maybe he would have felt better, at least for a moment.

His naked body as he lay on the couch in one of the staff rooms after telling the girl he'd just banged to get the fuck out of his club, tears running down his face one after another even though his lips were clamped into a thin line. She had similar hair, similar eyes, similar figure, but her voice was different, her smell was different, her touch was different, so frustratingly foreign, unwanted, disgusting.

He looked down at her hands, his thumb running over her wrist along her scar that reminded him every day of what he had done to her.

To his friend.

"– relentlessly - it was like torture – thinking of hundreds of scenarios – what would have happened if I hadn't been your uncle, if my father hadn't been submerged in all that shit, if I hadn't lost an eye then, if Rhaenyra hadn't taken you away from there that day –" He said with a grief so deep that he felt a sting in his stomach, as if someone had stuck the tip of a knife there.

She looked at him, in her eyes everything he had always wanted: tenderness, care, comfort, affection. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, her wonderful, familiar scent filling his lungs, causing his heart to beat harder in his chest in delight.

"– I took you from your mother – I forced you to sink into the darkness with me –" He whispered, not knowing how to apologise to her for what he had indirectly forced her to do, what he had condemned her to by not being able to forget her.

"– it was my choice this time –" She said calmly, and he froze, looking at her in disbelief.

There was not a shadow of regret, shame, pain, sadness in her voice and gaze.

It suddenly occurred to him that the reason he loved her so much was that she was always able to understand him, to see behind the curtain of his words their meaning, his hidden signals that he could not otherwise make out.

He never had to pretend to be anyone in front of her, because there was no need for it: he knew that she would never humiliate him or make him sad just to hurt him.

She was full of values he cherished.

She made it so that while he was a monster he never stopped being human.

"– I want to be the father of your children – I want us to be a family – to have a home – a future –" He said in a trembling voice and knelt down slowly feeling his heart pounding like mad, thinking with fear that she would call him stupid and irresponsible, that she would refuse having every right to do so.

"– Aemond, what are you –" She uttered, but he interrupted her, afraid of what she wanted to say.

His intentions were pure, driven only by his desire that they could be together forever.

"– I want it, Rhaenys – fuck, I've always wanted it – I don't give a shit about this country, about the law, about morality, about good manners, about how and why we're related –" He mouthed with difficulty, feeling himself whooping, tears of desperation and fear welled up in his eyelids.

He felt small, he felt pathetic, he felt vulnerable, but he knew that she would never use that to harm him, that he could be that way with her, that she was his refuge, his haven.

"– but if I pay the right people, if we get a dispensation, we can have a religious marriage, the one in the church – I don't give a damn if I have to bribe the Pope himself and all the cardinals in the Vatican, I don't care how long it takes – please –" He gasped, clasping his fingers around her waist, snuggling his face into her belly, afraid to look into her eyes, afraid of what he would see there, like a child wanting to escape the consequences of his act if it turned out that she wasn't ready for it.

After all, they had only been together a month after eight years of separation.

What did they know about each other?

Could she really understand what kind of life she would face at his side?

"– yes –"

He looked at her feeling a powerful shiver pass down his spine, his mouth wide open in a heavy breath.

Yes.

No questions, no conditions, no assumptions.

Yes.

"– do you mean it? –" He muttered, shocked, and she nodded, her cheeks red with shame.

"– we've completely lost our minds –" She mumbled, and he stood up quickly, feeling euphoria and joy begin to bubble through his veins, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket.

She laughed warmly, watching as he clumsily placed a bracelet consisting of coloured candies on her wrist.

"– what? – they didn't have rings – I had a difficult task –" He muttered, pulling her close, her body bumping against his.

Her sweet face was full of hope and desire, tenderness and trust, everything he had so longed to see since he had seen her then, on that pier.

What happened next, the time spent in his house, the lazy, sticky sex in his bed, the exact one they had slept in together when they were children seemed to him to be just a dream.

He was sure he was about to wake up, to receive a phone call from his grandfather telling him that another person had not paid on time and should be admonished.

However, neither Rhaenyra's intervention, nor later his mother's, nor their family's displeasure in general, changed the fact that they had moved in together.

For exactly this reason, he doubled all security: his men guarded his flat day and night, even more so when he had to go out to do his business and she was left alone.

As he suspected, the usual thing of moving out was not free from drama: he and his niece had to go to her family home to get her things, because Daemon would not give permission for his men to go inside.

"So I'll go in there, Dad. I'll take book by book, and they'll be waiting here."

Daemon looked at her with rage, followed by Jace, Luke and Rhaenyra trying to reason with her daughter.

"What are you doing? Have you both completely lost your minds?" She asked in despair, but it seemed to him that neither he nor his niece was any longer impressed.

"These are my things. After all, I'm alive, I'm fine. I'm tired, I just want it all to be over now."

When her things were finally moved to his flat, as he had promised, his existing gym became her room, to which only she had a key: he wanted her to feel that she had a place to escape to when she didn't want to be with him, knowing that he wouldn't invade her space.

He hoped it would never come to that, but he wanted her to feel that she had an alternative, that being with him didn't mean living the way he would expect of her at the same time.

To his astonishment, their life when it was just the two of them was surprisingly peaceful.

They didn't argue – not like he was used to – her requests or opinions opposing him didn't provoke his aggression, because she was never aggressive towards him either.

He had always admired in her this combination of empathy and assertiveness, the simultaneous ability to understand him and to be mindful of her own needs and demands, which he tried to meet.

According to their agreement, in his absence she could go out wherever she wanted, but she had to be driven and brought back by his bodyguard: he wanted to be sure that no one would try to harm her or kidnap her to bargain with him.

Exactly as he had done when they wanted to teach Daemon a lesson.

She could only go out alone on walks with Vhagar – his dog quickly got used to her presence and became protective of her, so he knew that if anyone came near his fiancée, he would probably lose an arm or a leg.

However, nothing frightened him more than calls from her.

He always felt a rush of adrenaline and fear then, convinced that something had happened.

"What is it?" He asked as soon as he stepped out into the corridor, her quiet, slightly sleepy voice answering him on the other side a moment later.

"I woke up and you weren't in bed."

He swallowed hard, thinking with regret that he just didn't want to wake her.

There was nothing more difficult for him than to get out of her warm, safe embrace at night after a phone call that something had happened, that things needed to be explained to someone again, by persuasion or violence.

"I know. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't want to wake you up. I have to stay here for at least another hour."

"Why?"

He closed his eyes, on the one hand feeling impatient, on the other knowing perfectly well that he would go mad if he were in her place.

He had promised to tell her everything.

"I have a problem with one man. We are clarifying things, but he is…reluctant. He has taken a lot of money from me, but he has not given me what I need. I have to go. One more hour and I'll be back, I promise." He whispered, feeling a squeeze in his heart at the thought that it was no answer, that it sounded awful and pathetic, that she shouldn't have to hear it.

And yet.

"Oh. Okay." She muttered, and for some reason he felt tears under his eyelids and hung up, wondering what he was really condemning her to.

It wasn't until the blade of his pocket knife was pressed against his eye that the man by whom he had to leave his fiancée in a cold bed regained his sanity and told them where he kept the goods.

His men went there and indeed, the bags stuffed to the brim with cocaine satisfied his needs, at least for a while.

He could go home.

When he went inside he saw that the television was on in the living room: he took a few steps inside, terrified, and breathed out only when he saw her figure plunged into a deep sleep, lying on the sofa with the remote control in her hand, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted in a quiet breath.

She was waiting for him.

She waited for him to return.

He glanced at his watch and closed his eyelids, seeing that he had not kept his word.

Although he had promised it would take him an hour, it took him three.

He sighed quietly, pulling off his shoes, putting them on the floor so as not to make any noise, and walked over to her: Vhagar lying by the couch only purred something and flicked her tail at the sight of him, sleeping on, he, however, leaned over his girl's figure, gently taking her in his arms, heading with her to their bedroom.

She shuddered and looked up at him with big eyes, terrified that someone had touched her, his lips placing a quick, apologetic, warm kiss on her forehead.

"– easy – it's just me, little one –" He whispered tenderly, looking into her eyes, laying down on the bed with her.

"– you promised –" She mumbled regretfully.

His eyebrows arched in pain at her words, his broad hand stroking her soft, warm cheek.

"– I know, baby – I know – I'm here now –"

Although he knew he should just embrace her and let her sleep, something in him wouldn't let him do that: his hands pulled his Tshirt, one of the many she liked to sleep in, from her body. She grunted in displeasure, tired and sleepy, when he did the same with her panties and his own clothes, leaning over her, completely naked.

His lips placed a soft kiss on her sternum, sliding down between her breasts, to her belly and lower abdomen, down to the soft skin of her silken womanhood. She sighed and shuddered as he took her hips in his hands and spread her legs apart, letting his face sink into her soft, warm folds, smelling of shower gel and her own arousal.

"– ah –" She gasped, writhing in front of him as the tip of his tongue ran over her hard, swollen bud, and then again and again, his thumb finding her throbbing entrance, already moist and eager, merely teasing her.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, moving his face lower, clinging with his lips to her dripping slit, kissing her as if he were kissing her lips, sliding a piece of his tongue into her once in a while, barely taunting her with small, cat-like licks, each time rubbing the sweet spot inside her fleshy muscles.

"– Aemond –" She sighed, throwing her head back, her hips beginning to roll back and forth, her fingers clenching in his short hair, always, always wanting more.

"– sleep – sleep, my sweetest –" He whispered, sliding his tongue deeper and deeper between her hot, clenching walls, digging his fingers into the soft skin of her buttocks, sinking his whole face into her weeping cunt.

Her breath became heavy and hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her wetness running down his chin as he defiantly, confidently and aggressively licked her with the loud clicks of his own saliva, building her way to pleasure.

"– a-ah – uncle – mghmmm – more, more, more –" She begged so sweetly, so innocently, so sincerely, that he quickened his pace, pressing his thumb against her swollen, hot clit, letting her reach her peak on his face. She cried out loudly as if he had caused her pain when she came hard, whimpering and wailing, rubbing her hips against his nose and lips.

He stood up, wiping his face and chin with his palm, rising up on his elbow, forcing her thighs to spread wider with the motion of his knee.

She moaned with exertion as the thick, throbbing head of his cock, pulsing with desire, pushed against her oversensitive entrance, still twitching from her orgasm, now even more delicate, and he forced his way deep into her slick pussy with one brutal thrust.

Tears flowed down her beautiful red face as he imposed a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, their hips all sticky with her moisture, pounding against each other with loud, perverted slaps.

"– what a fucking mess you are – and then your uncle always has to clean up after you – your cunt is leaking like a tap –" He exhaled, looking her straight in the face, fucking her in the most straightforward way he could imagine, opening her up with sharp, sure pushes of his hips.

He clamped one of his hands on her breasts, seeing them bounce before his eyes, her eyebrows arched in indecision, from her puffy lips parted wide as usual came the sweetest sounds his ears had ever heard.

"– mghm – A-Aemond – God – please, yes, right here –" She babbled, no doubt already thinking more with her convulsively twitching cunt than with her mind, her tight walls clenching around his hard erection, making him feel the familiar squeeze in his testicles, indicating that his release was about to come.

"– it's okay – it's okay, baby – you will cum for your uncle now, hm? – yes, thaaat's it – that's my girl – fuck –" He breathed out as her little pussy gave him another few squeezes, from which he simply came, moaning and panting loudly along with her, their naked bodies hot and sweaty from the exertion.

His body fell on top of hers and they continued like that for a while, focusing on the way their bodies pulsed against each other, the way they felt each other.

The way they were one.

"This is my safest place on earth. My haven. Right. Here." He whispered in her ear, rolling his hips so that he sank his half-soft manhood deeper into her.

She sighed at his words, embracing him tenderly, as was her custom stroking his hair and back as if he were a small child.

He loved her for doing this.

He loved her for knowing he needed it, even though he never told her about it.

"When you are not there, I feel emptiness. I'm only complete when you're inside me." She hummed, and he felt his manhood pulsate hard inside her at her words.

"Stop it if you want to go to sleep. Don't provoke me." He threatened and she giggled, placing a kiss on his temple, making him smile himself.

This, their nights together, their tender embrace was the peak of his dreams.

He could survive and endure anything knowing that at the end of the day he would fall asleep in her arms between her plump, sweet breasts.

Until one day his grandfather appeared on their doorstep.

When he opened the door and saw him, at first he didn't know how to act and remained silent, petrified.

"Who's that?" He heard her soft voice and heard her look out into the corridor, her sigh of dismay letting him know she was thinking the same thing as him.

His grandfather was smiling.

"I come in peace. To talk." He said softly, and he swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

He could see in the expression on her face that she was terrified, but he decided he preferred to find out what his grandfather was up to in order to be ready for what might come.

"Give us a minute. All right?" He asked, and she pressed her lips together. She nodded and went to her room without another word, closing the door behind her.

He sighed heavily and let him in, stepping deeper into the flat, his grandfather moving behind him with a light, unhurried step.

"I see there's been a little rearranging here. I'm impressed that you haven't gotten bored with your little toy yet. Are you playing house now?" Otto asked casually, casting him a look full of curiosity from above his raised eyebrows.

He looked at him indifferently, pouring himself a glass of water and remained silent, recognising that he would not be provoked.

"Tell me what you're coming with or leave. We were just about to make dinner." He said coldly, taking a loud sip from his glass.

He should have offered him something to drink out of sheer politeness, but decided he didn't give a shit.

They measured each other's eyes for a moment, and after a while Otto sighed, sitting down on the couch, spreading himself out comfortably.

"I want you to come back. On your terms. After your… argument, Aegon wishes to step back, to return to his old duties. Naturally, you will take his place. We are family, Aemond." He said, and he looked at him with a grin, feeling a wild satisfaction at the thought that exactly what he thought had happened.

The roles had changed.

Now it was he who had come to beg him like a dog.

He knew his grandfather needed him to stand up to Daemon, but he didn't know if the advantage over him would be to his liking since he was to marry his daughter.

Escalation was not welcomed by her, and he could not complain about how much he earned or the places that sustained him and his men.

He was frugal and invested his money properly, refurbishing venues, hiring marketers, buying the best goods, attracting people with the thickest wallets to his clubs.

"I watched from the sidelines what you were doing." Continued his grandfather, seeing that he had no intention of answering his appeal. "And I'm impressed. I still think the Larys case was a mistake, but I understand you: I was young and in love too. I treated you inappropriately, it's true, but enough of this insulting. If we join forces, we will conquer the whole city. We…"

"No."

Otto blinked and laughed, as if something in his words amused him.

"No, what? You despise money and influence?" He sneered.

"I have enough of them. I'm not complaining about my standard of living. On the contrary. I am content." He said with emphasis on the last sentence, drinking his water to the end, setting the glass down on the table top with a loud clink. "Is that all?"

"Is it because of her? Can't you see that she's protecting Daemon, that she'll do anything to keep you from being a threat to him? It's obvious, because she's his daughter, never mind that not a biological one. She's weakening you, and your people can see that and will use it against you." He said coldly, making him clench his jaw with rage.

"I advise you now to watch your words and what you say next." He said slowly, looking him straight in the eye.

Otto shook his head and laughed.

"You are a fool. Men like you or me can have wives and whores, but they can't love them, because that's how we make living targets out of these people."

"You didn't love my grandmother?" He growled, furious at his hypocrisy, knowing that he had never bonded with any other woman after her death, spending his life reminiscing about her.

His grandfather fell silent for a moment, something changed in his gaze.

"I did. I saw her one day in a café and thought she would be my wife. I was younger than you then. She ran away from me for a long time, but I was patient and full of sincere affection. And she finally gave in to me. Five years after our marriage, she overdosed on sleeping pills. I didn't notice when she stopped coping with what I was doing. She was always cheerful around me, but I didn't know what happened to her when I was away at night. When she woke up in an empty bed."

He stared at him dully, feeling his heart pounding in his chest like mad, his hands lying on the tabletop clenched into fists, cold sweat running down his back.

Five years after we were married, she overdosed on sleeping pills.

I didn't notice when she stopped coping.

His grandfather grinned with satisfaction seeing the look on his face.

"Do you think I'm saying all this to annoy you? That I don't desire your happiness? That I don't understand that you love and want to be loved? You are my grandson. Let her go while it's not too late. I know that…"

"No." He said, but it seemed to him that it wasn't his mind that made the word leave his mouth, but his subconscious, a little boy from eight years ago who was terrified of what he was hearing. "I tried. I can't. It's too late. Don't come here again."

"You should spare her that and learn from the mistakes of people older than yourself. It's easy to mistake selfishness for love, even more so when we love ourselves the most." Said Otto getting up from the couch but froze when he heard his voice.

"I don't love myself. I abhor myself." He said dispassionately.

His grandfather looked at him for a moment longer, then turned and headed towards the entrance door.

"We shall see."

As soon as he left, he felt a sudden surge of desire to drink alcohol, so he grabbed a bottle of whisky standing in one of the cupboards, pouring it into a glass for himself with his hand shaking with nerves.

I didn't notice when she stopped coping.

I didn't know what happened to her when I was away at night.

When she woke up in an empty bed.

He drank the entire contents in quick, deep sips and set the glass down on the countertop, trying to calm himself down.

He wasn't like him.

He shuddered as he heard the sound of the door opening again and her footsteps, after a moment feeling her presence behind his back.

"What did he want?" She asked, her tone of voice betraying that she was frustrated and at the same time horrified by his grandfather's visit.

The fact that he was trying to regain the influence he had over him.

"That I should come back. I didn't agree." He replied matter-of-factly, pouring whiskey into his glass once more, watching with blank eyes as it filled with golden liquid.

"Aemond. What happened?" She mumbled, stepping closer to him and touched his shoulder, making him tense all over.

"Are you deaf?" He asked coldly, looking at her in a way that made her eyes grow big.

He swallowed hard, feeling a sting in his heart seeing the way her eyebrows arched in pain.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the countertop when he heard her footsteps, that she had locked herself in her room, letting him know that she didn't want to see him.

He ran his hand over his face, feeling remorseful, thinking that he needed to rest and calm down after what he had heard, that once everything was settled in his head he would go to her and apologise to her for those unpleasant words.

He took a nap on the couch, not wanting to go to bed where he knew she wouldn't be. He was only awakened by the squirming of Vhagar, who poked him with her wet nose, apparently wanting to go for a walk to take care of her needs.

When he got up and glanced at his watch he saw that he had slept for two hours, but he did not feel rested at all – on the contrary, he was even more frustrated, sad and lonely.

He thought he would apologise to her, explain everything, take a walk with her and Vhagar and spend the evening watching some history TV programme.

He went to the door of her room and knocked quietly, but heard no movement on the other side.

"– baby, I'm sorry – he brought me out of balance and I took it out on you – I shouldn't have done that – it's a hard subject for me – will you join me and Vhagar for a walk? –" He asked loud enough for her to hear him.

For a long moment he got no reply and was frightened that perhaps something had happened.

Five years after we were married, she overdosed on sleeping pills.

"– I'm reading a book – I'd rather stay home –" He heard her calm voice devoid of any emotion and swallowed hard, looking down at his fingers in embarrassment.

He felt a twinge in his stomach, feeling that she had rejected him, that she was punishing him, that she didn't want him.

"– okay – we'll be back soon –" He said, but she didn't answer him again.

He hoped she would eventually leave the room on her own: when they returned with Vhagar he made dinner – her favourite casserole – and then went to ask her if she would eat with him.

"– no, thank you – I'm not hungry –"

He stood outside her door feeling his heart pounding like mad in panic.

"– are you angry with me? –"

Silence.

"– shall we watch something on TV? – I'll stroke your head afterwards before bed, just the way you like it – I'm sorry –" He mumbled out like a small child, feeling his whole body tremble in fear.

Silence.

"– I think I'd rather spend the evening here – if that's okay –" He heard her quiet, breaking voice and closed his eyes, pressing his lips together, the stinging tears under his eyelids seemed to burn him.

"– oh – okay – I'll be next door if you need me –"

She, however, did not come out to him, he was called instead by Criston Cole, who said that there had been an unpleasant incident at one of his clubs.

"Come as soon as possible. Lannister's men shot and killed a police officer who was working with us. He was our assurance that the cops wouldn't interfere with deals that are happening in two weeks. It's getting dangerous. We need to talk things through."

He hung up and hid his face in his hands, thinking that every time he thought he had it all under control, that he was holding his life together, it all fell apart in his fingers like dust.

He got up from the couch, grabbing his leather jacket and put on his shoes, glancing towards the door of her room.

"I have to go out. I don't know when I'll be back." He said aloud and flinched as he heard movement on the other side, her footsteps and then the sound of the lock being turned.

She looked out at him from behind the door with eyes red from tears, a look of horror on her face from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"– why? –" She asked in a breaking voice and he swallowed with difficulty, feeling the need to embrace her, to stay with her, to stroke her hair and her back, to kiss her soft face whispering to her how much he loved her.

"– the policeman who was helping us was shot – Tyland is taking revenge for what I did to him – the consequences of my actions are slowly reaching me –" He muttered, looking at her dully, feeling strangely small and weak, tired, as if he was about to fall to his knees.

"Take me with you." She whispered, looking into his eyes in a way that made him feel hot in his chest, her gaze warm and full of feeling that made him want to cry.

I didn't notice when she stopped coping.

"No. I can't. I won't make the same mistake again. The more they are aware that you are not my temporary whim, the more danger I put you in."

"Then treat me like your whore in front of them."

He looked at her with big eyes, feeling the discomfort in his stomach at her words, the cold sweat on his back.

"What did you say?" He asked, unsure if she knew what had just left her lips.

She, however, seemed strangely calm and sure, which made him feel even worse.

"Treat me as if you're bored with me. As if you hold me close just because I am Daemon's daughter. Be cold and chilly. You can hit me if you want."

"What?" He asked in pain, feeling like something was about to explode inside him. "Do you want me to do it so you can find the strength to leave me? Reassure yourself of how fucked up I am?"

"I don't want to stay here alone, wondering if you're still alive. The fear I feel then no lamp can light up." She mouthed, tears one by one rolling down her red cheeks.

He felt torn and his heart was breaking: he knew that the matter was urgent and that he should already be on his way, but on the other hand, how could he leave her like this, terrified and broken for so many hours, deaf to her pleas and needs?

What was he supposed to do?

Take her with him, continue to expose her, subject her to perpetual judgement and criticism?

Leave her, make her withdraw into herself, sink into her fear and make her his prisoner?

"– I don't know, baby – God, I have to go – I –"

"– give me five minutes –" She said and disappeared behind the door, opening her wardrobe, and he just stood there, wondering if he should leave or not, lock her up, understand that if she was going to be safe, he had to do certain things against her will.

The golden cage.

Not even a second had passed from his thoughts when he opened the front door and stepped out, closing it quickly with a lock he knew she hadn't yet made a key for, and which couldn't be opened from the inside.

He swallowed hard, feeling tears of shame under his eyelids as he heard her run to the door, her fists pounding on it on the other side, her squeal full of despair.

"– NO – NO, NO, NO, AEMOND, DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE – TAKE ME WITH YOU, PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME –"

He clenched his eyelids and ran down the stairs, feeling the hot tears of despair one by one run down his cheeks, the echo of her crying spreading around making him feel like dying.

He couldn't take her there.

He couldn't put her at risk.

He had no choice.

He felt himself shaking all over as he got into the car, not knowing what state he would find her in when he returned or what would happen to them next.

How was he supposed to keep her safe and free at the same time?

He closed his eyes, firing up the engine and set off ahead, not daring to look at the windows for fear he would see her weeping face there.

He drove amidst the lights and darkness of the city in complete silence, thinking that, contrary to what he thought, he was a monster, some deformed creature, a black, viscous mass, but not human.

He finally reached one of the restaurants where he met his people when the situation was out of control. Above the dining area were hotel rooms that also belonged to them, and in one of them they were all already waiting for him.

He swallowed hard when, crossing the threshold of the room, he spotted Alys spread out comfortably on a couch among several men and other women.

"How are things with the police?" He asked hesitantly, glancing at Criston, sitting down in the empty armchair opposite them.

"They're furious. They don't care who did it: they know it's the mafia and they're going to try to fuck everyone up. The deals are over. The cop is dead, so all hell is going to break loose." Said Harrold Wrestling, one of his father's most trusted men.

He pressed his lips together at his words, sighing heavily, and ran his hand over his face.

"Keep the goods safe for the next few months and don't sell them. Prepare the proper contracts, everything has to be clean. If the Inland Revenue comes with an inspection, they are not to find even one inaccuracy in the papers. Do you understand?" He asked roughly, meeting Cole's gaze.

"What about the takeover of the goods that was supposed to take place in two weeks' time? How will it pass customs inspection now? That policeman was supposed to make sure his men were on shift then." Said Criston watching as he lit a cigarette and took a drag, letting the smoke out through his nose after a moment.

"Get in touch with them. Tell the truth – they have to wait, they have to reschedule. I don't think it would suit them for our police to take an interest in their business." He said lowly, trying to look anywhere but at Alys, feeling her gaze on him.

He knew she would want to torment him, to ask him about her, about what she was like, how desperate he must have been to announce to all that she was his.

Her crying, her fists pounding on the door.

Please, don't leave me alone.

He swallowed hard, only realising after a moment that Borros Baratheon had said something to him.

"…we have only the remnants of our supplies. We can barely hold out for a week. How…"

"Am I not making myself clear? I said: no drug dealing as long as the police keep an eye on us. Nothing. You'll make it up to yourselves later." He hissed, frustrated, slapping his finger on his cigarette, causing the ash from it to fall into someone's empty whiskey glass.

"Do you know what a huge financial loss this will be for us, boy?" He asked enraged.

"We have to wait it out like a storm. The Lannisters want us to react impulsively and get scared. We must show strength and composure. Prepare for what's coming. If they want to arrest someone, let them. No standing up, no shooting, no violence. We have our lawyers, our accountants and most importantly, we have the money." He said, amazed to find that he was confident in what he was doing, feeling no fear or uncertainty.

"What about Tyland? Will you leave his provocation unanswered?" Alys asked, looking into his eyes, her bright irises seeming to sparkle uneasily, something in her gaze from which he felt discomfort.

"I'll take care of him myself." He replied coolly, looking away, feeling that she was able to read his thoughts, all his doubts and what he was experiencing within himself.

"Your last warning didn't work on him. On the contrary, he declared war on you. How do you respond to that?" Alys didn't let up, not lowering her gaze for a moment, the grin on her lips told him what she was doing.

She was teasing him.

She was trying to corner him, to force him to show his niece who he really was.

A monster.

"An eye for an eye." He said, complete silence all around him. "Is everything clear? If the police turn up at the premises you manage, don't panic. Prepare so that even if they take your laptops or phones they won't find anything on them. Make no mistake. You have my complete financial and legal support. I will get you out of any shit, but stick to the plan. Do you understand?"

The men and women around him nodded their heads.

"That's it." He said dispassionately and stood up, leaving the room filled with utter silence.

Did they believe he would succeed or did they regret their decision?

The fact that they had betrayed his grandfather.

He had to prove to them that he was strong.

That he would not allow himself to be manipulated.

When he walked into his flat at last, it was completely dark and silent. He swallowed hard when he heard Vhagar's steps coming out of her room to greet him and realised that his niece had left the door open.

He could step inside.

He quietly pulled off his shoes and jacket, walking in that direction, stroking the soft fur of his dog along the way – when he looked inside, he saw her silhouette lying on her bed, her eyes open, staring at him, large and sad, her eyelids and cheeks swollen from tears.

He felt, above all, shame, but also a strong need for her to understand that he had no choice and that he could not have acted differently.

He moved slowly towards her, after a moment being already at her bedside – when he leaned down to touch her, to stroke her cheek and kiss her, she raised herself on her elbow and pushed him away.

"– no –" She blurted out, fury and regret in her words and her gaze, her brow wrinkled in anger.

She gasped when, instead of complying with her request, he climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of her body, her hands tried to push him away, but he grabbed her wrists, pressing her back against the mattress.

"– no – no, get off me – I hate you – I hate you –" She panted, breathing hard, tears one by one running down the side of her face onto the pillow under her head.

His erection swelled and ached as he pressed it between her thighs, rocking his hips back and forth, and she cried out, trying in some subconscious reflex not to open her legs to him.

One of his hands grasped her wrists and lifted them safely above her head, while the other cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.

"– no –" She breathed out before he clung to her in a hot, wet kiss full of his saliva. He hissed and pulled away a little, simultaneously furious and aroused when she dug her teeth into his lower lip, the bitter taste of blood melting on his tongue.

He repeated the attempt, this time literally eating her lips with his own, feeling the wonderful pain in his cock, in his mouth, in his heart, wanting to experience the satisfaction that only she could give him. Her body, though writhing and quivering in despair yielded to him as his free hand slid down her hips, finding the space between her thighs.

She shuddered as his fingers began to wander tentatively over the material of her panties, a grimace of satisfaction flashed across his face as he felt that it was soaked through. She drew in a loud breath when, encouraged by this discovery, he pushed it aside and sank his fingertips into her silky, soft cunt.

"– you are leaking –" He murmured with delight into her throat, feeling her stop resisting him, and when his hand let go of her wrists, she immediately threw her arms around his neck.

"– you left me –" She mewled into my mouth, their lips petting and teasing each other, the tips of their tongues coming out to meet each other with lazy, lewd licks.

"– I'm back – I'm here, baby – you can let go now –" He whispered, slowly but surely penetrating her tight, throbbing slit with his finger, feeling that his manhood was about to explode in his trousers, ready to possess her, to fuck her, to make love to her.

She threw her head back with a girlish, sweet moan, exactly the way he loved it, involuntarily bucking her hips to the rhythm of his hand, her breath shaky and hitched, full of desire.

"– God, n-no –"

"– being with me, you won't know freedom – I'm not in a position to choose between that and your safety – if that's what you want, I'll let you leave – but make love to me one last time –" He whispered, joining his first finger with his second, pumping and hitting her sweet spot each time, his palm all sticky from her wetness dripping down her thighs, her muscles swollen and yawning with heat.

Her lips parted in shock at his words, the heavy tears that ran down his cheeks one by one began to drip down her face. Her fingers slipped into his hair and their lips came out against each other at the same time, catching each other in a helpless, pathetic, passionate kiss full of their sighs and their tongues, his hands sliding down to the belt of his trousers, undoing it quickly.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you –" He panted, releasing his swollen, hard erection, watching as she quickly slid her panties off her legs, with the tips of her fingers directing the fat head of his cock, leaking from his precum, into her little hole.

He opened her wide with an almost animalistic groan, thrusting into her almost immediately as if tomorrow would never come. He watched her face flooded with tears, her eyebrows twisted in a grimace of pain and pleasure, running his thumb over her cheek and lower lip, sinking into her warm, familiar flesh, feeling at peace, at home.

He sighed when she drew him close, when she clamped her fingers around his neck and forced their foreheads to press together – he seemed to smile at this gesture before they kissed again, at once like a pair of children and lovers, seeking comfort in the wonderful softness of their lips.

The pace of his hips was slow and lazy, the loud clicks of her pussy each time he sank into her fleshy core sent them into a state of ecstasy, drawing purrs and gasps of delight from their throats.

His free hand stroked her cheek, while the other slid lower, between her thighs, finding her small, swollen clit after a moment. She moaned and shuddered as if a bolt of lightning had passed through her, her hungry walls clenching against his cock aching with desire, forcing him to open her up for himself with surer, sharper pumps.

"– yes –" She whimpered into his mouth, answered by his hoarse groan, her legs crossed over his back, allowing him to finally sink into her completely, become one with her, pounding into her slick pussy with the sticky splats of their hips.

"– f-fuck, baby – oh, God, yes –" He panted into her mouth, again and again sliding his tongue deep between her teeth, all the way down her throat, in some natural, primitive reflex as a man wanting to fill her with all of himself, leaving her no room for anyone else.

A wonderful heat rippled through his lower abdomen, the tension in his testicles and in his throbbing length showing that he was nearing his fulfilment.

He breathed out loud when he heard her cry as her small, leaking cunt began to clench and pulsate against his hard manhood. When his wonderful release came at last he clamped his eyelids shut, panting hard, letting her spasming cunt suck his seed deep inside her.

He lay on top of her with his eyes closed, their arms embracing each other involuntarily, lingering in the stillness, focusing only on the quivering of their bodies, on how intimate and private the experience was, him, deep inside her.

"– my sweet baby girl – my little sunshine –" He whispered, and she swallowed hard, her cheeks hot and wet from her sweat and tears. He pressed his lips into a thin line, letting his tears join hers, letting his breath become heavy and hitched as well, their hands trailing over their bodies trying to give them comfort.

"– my grandfather – what he told me –" He whispered in her ear and she froze. "– he said that you wouldn't be able to bear this life, just like my grandmother – that you would commit suicide too – and I don't want to live in a world where you won't be there, even if you are no longer by my side –"

He cried out of helplessness, huddling in her silhouette like a small, frightened boy, because he felt lost and alone, because all he wanted was to love and be loved, because he was doing everything to make their lives good, but it wasn't enough.

He only calmed down when her gentle hand began to stroke his hair and his back, when her cheek pressed against the top of his head.

Neither of them said anything else.

He was afraid of what she might do, of the fact that she might really leave him, so his fingers clenched tighter on her body, pressing her against him, wanting only for her to stay in his embrace.

They spent the night on the bed in her room, cramped and less comfortable than the one in his bedroom, but there was something about it that reminded him of their childhood. He embraced her from behind, burying his face in the crook of her neck, placing his hands on her waist, feeling her fingers entwine with his.

And then the morning came.

When he woke up, the first thought that came to his mind was that he was cold and feeling anxious. He only understood why he felt this way when he opened his eyes and realised that she was not beside him.

He pulled himself up from his seat, feeling his heart in his throat, despair and panic guiding his steps.

Her things were still there, but she wasn't.

She couldn't take them if she wanted to escape and not wake him.

He sat on the couch in the living room, leaned over and burst out sobbing like a little boy, clenching his fingers in his hair, the pain he felt in his chest and stomach like he was having a heart attack. He drew in air with difficulty and clenched his eyes shut, whooping with his own tears.

She left.

[cherriegyuu]

Willow | 02

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: angst, marriage of convenience word count: 5.2k summary: seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)

part one | part two | part three (final) | drabble

Seungcheol functioned like clockwork. 

Every day he woke up at the exact same time, his alarm was obnoxiously loud — especially considering how much of a light sleeper he was —, showered, cocked the same breakfast, and left the apartment precisely at 7:45.

You don’t remember him being that punctual but your best guess was that grown-up Seungcheol took his life and responsibilities much more seriously than teenage him. And he probably had a lot on his plate too. He was set to take over the firm once his dad retired, something that wouldn’t happen any time soon, but it always felt like something he was being prepared for it. 

And being honest, you couldn’t say that you knew this version of Seungcheol, not really. He was hot and cold with you, mostly cold, so it was hard to know where you stood in your relationship with him. 

Truth was, that had a lot to do with you as well. You weren’t trying to make things easier for the two of you, if anything it felt like you were trying your best to make it as hard as possible — even if that wasn’t your intention at all. 

While your husband was always perfectly on time, you were always running around late for every single appointment you could ever make. People from work already knew that if there was a student scheduled for 10:00h, you’d probably get there a little later. It really wasn’t on purpose, you tried your best to be on time, even tried to follow along with Seungcheol’s agenda. But it never worked out. So instead of being on time and having everything ready, all it did was make you nervous and even more late.

You also didn’t follow a schedule for your day. Every day, on your way home, you made a little detour, never failing in finding a new place to go or a different restaurant to try. 

At the end of the day, you and Seungcheol lived separate lives, barely talking to each other, or even acknowledging each other. Most of it was just niceties because both of you felt the need to do so. It would have felt even more awkward to walk past each other in the hallway and don’t even say good morning. Anyone who looked at the two of you would think that you were just roommates, not actually married. Hell, not even friends. 

If anything, the house arrangement contract you wrote made things even worse — if that was even possible.   

After signing it, with a look of complete disbelief on his face, Seungcheol went to his room. His words “my own wife is telling me that she wants to date other men while saying that I should date other women” still rang in your head. You didn’t mean for it to sound like that, you didn’t want to push him to do anything at all. Your only thought was that since the marriage was fake, there was no love between you, there was no reason for you to be stuck to each other and live completely without happiness. 

There wasn’t anything either of you could do in that regard, there was no way of canceling or ending the marriage, so all you wanted to do was give him a way to find something that could bring him a little bit of joy. If said joy came in the shape of another woman, then so be it.

After that, you never talked again. And he barely showed any emotion at all around you, no reaction. He didn’t complain or seemed fazed when you almost let the dirty water you used to clean your brushes fall on his desk and ruin, well, everything. He still followed the rules you created, almost religiously. Whenever he cooked, he made enough for you, if he was the one doing laundry he was careful not to damage any of your clothes. 

Living like that felt oddly lonely. 

You were used to being by yourself, having your own space. The last time you shared an apartment with someone, or more specifically, a room, was when you were still in college with Yeda. But the thought of living with someone else but never actually seeing them… 

You thought that once you were married you would have someone to share your life with, even if that someone turned out to be Seungcheol. Naively, you figured that all of those years of your childhood spent together — even if those were also forced on both of you —, would play a part in making sure that cohabitation was a possibility. 

We could still try to be friends, was what you told yourself.

Because your husband wasn't all that bad, to begin with. You might not see eye to eye on many things but you knew that he was a good person. You had hoped that, maybe, living in the same place, seeing each other every day, would change something about your relationship with him. And in a way, it did. It just wasn't what you expected. Instead of growing closer, you couldn’t be further apart. 

You glanced at your phone again, the bright numbers seemed to be mocking you. 

It was past 3 am and there was still no sign of Seungcheol. When 9 pm rolled around you assumed he had stayed at the office a little bit longer, finishing up whatever it was. Then 9 became midnight and staying in bed wasn’t something you could stand anymore so you moved to the living room, a book and a blanket in hand. But reading too was hard, the words were all floating around in your mind and none of it actually made any sense. Your mind was too focused on the fact that Seungcheol wasn't home yet to focus on the story.

Another hour went by and there was still no sign of him. The world outside the apartment was quiet and no car could be heard on the street.

The truth was that you were worried about him. There were little bells inside your mind telling you that something must have happened to him because that just wasn’t Seungcheol. It wasn’t him when he was young and it also wasn’t him as an adult. He wasn’t the kind of person who would disappear without telling anyone, so you were sure that there was someone who knew where he was. 

The most obvious choice would be to call him and it would have been a great plan if you had his number at all. 

The realization that you knew nothing at all about your husband made a sickening feeling slowly spread through your body.

It was so stupid to not have his number and it made absolutely no sense because he was your husband. Even if you were a fake wife, shouldn’t you at least be able to communicate with him if needed? Sometimes people have emergencies that couldn’t wait for their significant other to get home — or in your case never get home at all.

Option number two was to go through the things in his office. He should have at least a business card or something, anything at all, with a phone number. You thought about calling your parents or even his parents. How would you explain that even though you kept telling them that everything was fine, that things were finally falling into place, you didn’t have your husband's number? And never mind knowing someone who worked with him. Seokmin, what that his name? Seokmin probably knew where Seungcheol was but then again, there was no way to reach him either. 

You stood up to cross the room, your blanket and book both forgotten on the couch when you heard the sound of keys being put in the lock and a second later the door was pushed open. 

Seungcheol stood precariously on his legs, an arm over Seokmin’s shoulders, while the younger one tried his best to stop his friend from falling face-first on the floor. 

“Cheol” you breathed in relief and rushed towards him, your hands reached for his cheeks, forcing him to look at you “Cheol…”

He opened his eyes for a second and a drunken smile, or at least an attempt at a smile.

“Ah, wife! Precisely who I wanted to see” his words were slurred, almost in sync with his body as it swayed from side to side. 

Seungcheol stepped away from Seokmin and dropped all of his weight onto you. Your arms immediately circled his waist as you bent your knees a little, trying to hold him up.

"Sorry," Seokmin said as he tried to pull Seungcheol from you "I've never seen him get this drunk before, I didn't think it possible"

Neither did you, but then again there was a lot about Seungcheol that you didn't know. 

"It's fine" you moved your feet back until you felt the couch behind your knees and with Seokmin's help you were able to get Seungcheol to sit "Thank you for bringing him home"

Seokmin smiled at you, tightly. He wanted to say more but he knew that if he did he would be butting in your relationship with Seungcheol and his friend would probably give him hell for it. Drunk Seungcheol was a problem — in the form of a cute lovesick oversized puppy, as he has recently discovered —, but sober Seungcheol would bite his head off without as much as a warning.

"I should have brought him home earlier, before he drank himself stupid"

You shook your head and pushed the hair out of Seungcheol’s forehead. You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at him, not really. Before he got home you felt this pain in your stomach, telling you that there was something incredibly wrong, that he was in some kind of trouble. But the only real trouble was the fact he had, as Seokmin said, drank himself stupid.

"Honestly, it's okay. I'm just glad he's home safe. Again, thank you for that"

 "I wish I could say it was no trouble" he laughed lightly "Do you need help with anything?"

You shook your head.

"I got it from here"

Seokmin opened the door and let himself out. He stopped for a second as if remembering something and reached for the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a business card. He didn't say anything as put it by your keyes.

You realized then that he knew. Seokmin knew about your relationship with Seungcheol, or lack of it. He just smiled and closed the door. You stayed frozen in place, looking at the door, as if somehow it would grant you answers.

Though you had told Yeda the true nature of your marriage, you never expected Seungcheol to do the same and to Seokmin, of all people. Not that you really knew him but just based on his interaction with Seungcheol on your wedding day, Seokmin was the last person you would expect to know the truth.

"y/n," Seungcheol said and you turned to him, "I think I want to throw up"

His warning was almost too late, there was no time to get him to the bathroom or for you to get him a bucket, but just enough for him to grab on the flower vase in front of the couch. You turned away from him, knowing that the smell of vomit wouldn't bother you, but seeing him throw up actually would. 

"I'm really sorry"

It had been so long since you last heard him talk like that, almost childlike. The Seungcheol you knew liked to pose as this big, bad guy, but in reality, he was more of a softy that got things done. He could pout for days if he wanted.

Not only did he sound childlike, but he also looked like a child that messed up. His eyes were almost helpless as he looked at the floor, then his shoes, and finally his suit jacket. 

"Don't worry about it" You reached a hand for him. His eyes focused on your hand, almost mesmerized, before his long fingers wrapped around yours "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed"

You helped him off his jacket and held both of his hands as he allowed you to pull him up from the couch. He pushed his shoes off once you reached the hall leading up to his room. This time, instead of putting all of his weight on you, Seungcheol used the wall to steady himself, still his arm was around your shoulder and he leaned a little towards you. 

You wanted to ask him what happened, what made him want to drink so much. More than anything you wanted to know why he didn't warn you in advance.

Over the four months that you lived together, though there was no real interaction between the two of you, Seungcheol always found ways to talk to you. At first, there was a yellow post-it stuck to your door. They were simple notes. I made breakfast, or dinner with your parents tonight, I'll pick you up at 7. And sometimes they were more caring, those, you came to realize, were always blue. Do you still hate spinach? just in case, i didn't add any or let me know if there's anything you want to eat and even i canceled dinner tonight with my mom, you looked tired last night, you should rest this weekend. 

He always made sure to tell you if he was going to be late, always. So not knowing where he was… you hated it.

Seungcheol didn't complain when you pushed him down on the mattress and undid his tie, later moving on to his shirt and then using it to clean his mouth

You didn't realize but Seungcheol's eyes were on you the entire time. Despite the alcohol, his mind was hyper-aware of your finger touching his skin, on the way you kept biting your lips as if doing your best to hold back from cussing him out.

"Can you shower on your own?" Seuncheol made a noise that you could only translate as a no "Do you want to brush your teeth?"

You probably already knew the answer to that too but still had to ask. His eyes were almost closed and he stayed sitting by some sort of miracle. 

"I don't think I should stand up again" You nodded at him and turned around, you could at least get him to use some mouthwash before he fell asleep and maybe get him to drink a glass of water, but he held your hand and lightly pulled you back — not in a forcible way, just to get your attention "I don't like it when you make that face"

His voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper.

"It's the same face you did on our wedding day, when you walked down the aisle. You looked so pretty but sad, and angry too. Why were you so angry?"

You looked at his eyes for a second before looking away. They were all too demanding, wanting more than you were willing to give him. Your wedding day, believe it or not, wasn't a day you thought about too often and when you did think about it felt like years had gone by. The night you decided to suggest the contract was the one you thought of more often, with much more sadness. 

"I wasn't angry" 

Your voice was quiet as pulled the duvet for him to get under. In silence, Seungcheol removed his pants and laid down. He let go of your hand for only a second before holding it again.

"I was scared and worried, like today. You were gone for a really long time and I didn't know where you were. I couldn't even call you"

Having those thoughts around your mind was so different from actually saying them out loud, saying them to Seungcheol. If the night taught you one thing was that you didn't know anything at all about your husband. Everything you thought you knew was wrong. But if you could make a guess, judging by the way his eyes seemed to be a little more focused and his words a little less slurred, it was probably okay to say that he was sobering up. Maybe throwing up was all he needed.

"Our marriage is just so weird. My wife told me to sleep with other people" he laughed and pulled his hand away, closing his eyes "It's almost like we're friends with benefits but without the friendship part nor the benefits. We're just a piece of paper. If you think about it, we're nothing really"

Tomorrow, you suddenly promised yourself, tomorrow will be different and we will start this all over again.

The second he said yes to drinking with Seokmin, Seungcheol knew that he would regret it. The first time he went to a bar with the younger one, Seuncheol told him all about his fake marriage. So, of course, the second time couldn't be much different. He regretted it for more reasons than he cared to admit. 

The entire night he behaved like a pubescent thirteen year old complaining about the fact that his crush didn't like him back. He was stupid enough to tell Seokmin all about the contract you came up with, to which his friend laughed hysterically. Because you must be the shitties husband in the history of the world if your wife has already given up on you like this.

And if that was what you thought of him, if you saw him as the worst husband in the history of the world, could he blame you? On your wedding way, that is known to be a day that everyone remembers, he was a complete idiot to you. No excuse he could ever come up with would be good enough. Because, truth be told, his behavior then had been inexcusable. In your shoes, he would have probably done much worse. You had shown him mercy. 

And kept showing him mercy, even after months of him being silent and barely being in the apartment. He used work as an excuse often to get him out of situations in his daily life. He never thought that he would use it as a way to stay clear of you. 

Because Seungcheol did work a lot but he also knew how to take time off. His job was important and his clients too were important, but he learned that he should have time to himself. and now that he was married, he needed to have time for you too. Even if it was just to stay home with you. He should have done that but instead, he found ways to be at the office until later than he usually did, took clients that he normally wouldn’t, and did the most stupid thing of all: went to a bar with Seokmin.

And the worse part of it all was that he remembered every single thing that he did the night before. He wished he was one of those people who get drunk and just forget about all the embarrassing things they did. But he wasn’t. 

Seungcheol remembered being carried home by Seokmin, who again was having too much fun laughing at him, he remembers throwing up, the way you held on to him. But more than anything he remembers the way you said his name, Cheol, ever so quietly, when he walked in, the way your eyes searched his face as if looking for anything that could be wrong with him — other than being drunk.

He hated that he talked about being friends with you while he was drunk. Hated that you didn’t get to hear him while he was sober because he had prepared a whole speech for you, almost as if he was going to court and needed to plead his case.

He had plans to talk to you and maybe that was why he went out with Seokmin, to get his friend to push in the direction he wanted to go. Because truth be told, Seungcheol was scared. 

For over ten years of his life, he knew that he would marry you. So had time to think about it, and ponder on every possibility that could happen. Because he had been in love with you for longer than that, but not once he was allowed to act on his feelings. At first, it was because of your brother, then because of himself, and then finally when you closed a door on his face — metaphorically speaking. 

And when he finally had a chance to do so, he fucked up. There was no other way to say it. The two of you were already married, so what was the worst thing that could happen? For you to reject him? That was already happening. 

He hated that he lost the chance to charm you from the get-go. And then again for months. He couldn’t miss the chance yet again.

Seungcheol pushed himself up on his elbows, tentatively opening his eyes. He expected the room to be filled with light but he was surprised to see that the only source of it came from the half opened door. He never closed his blinds before going to bed, he never felt the need to as he usually got up as soon as the sun was up, and he certainly hadn’t closed them the night before going to bed. 

However, no amount of darkness could make him look past you, sleeping in a weird position in the armchair in front of his bed.

Seungcheol, who was usually a light sleeper, had no idea that you came into his room a couple of times during the night until you finally convinced yourself that it was okay for you to sleep in there because you were too afraid that we would throw up during the night; he had no idea that you got up in the middle of the night to pull the duvet over his body.

He knew nothing about those things, yet he felt overwhelmed at the sight of you.

For a second he wanted nothing more than to stay sitting there and just watch you. As creepy as it might be, it was the first time he felt like the two of you were more than just two people who shared the same apartment. 

He could only hope that the night before had changed something for you too, because now there was no way he would just let things go back to how they were. 

You were worried about Seuncheol. Had been the entire day. You woke up to the sound of the shower running and the sight of his empty bed in front of you. You left as soon as you woke up, deciding that he was probably way too hungover to want to talk to you then. 

So instead of staying at home, wondering when it would be a good time talk to talk to him, you went out. There was nothing for you to do, no place to go and Yeda already had plans with her boyfriend so she couldn’t meet you. 

You indulged yourself, going to the mall and getting a few new brushes and paint — not that you needed anything, but a mind filled with weird thoughts and a credit card with more limit than necessary could be the ruin of someone. But going there was somewhat of a bad idea, considering how many couples there were around. 

All of them looked in love, happy to be around each other. You couldn’t help but wonder if it could be the same for you and Seungcheol. If you had talked to him in the months leading up to the wedding, would things be different now? If he hadn’t been a complete idiot on your wedding day, would things be different?

There were many answers to those questions, but none of them would matter. There was no way to go back to the past, to redo things. So all you had was the present, as it was, and a chance to change everything. 

On your wedding day, your dad told you that he didn’t love your mother when they got married. He said that the love he felt for her was built over the years they stayed together. And you wanted to try that. 

Because you never really believe in love at first sight, the idea of it was just too irrational for you. You believed that curiosity, attraction, lust, and enchantment could all be feelings that are awoken in someone at first sight. But love? That was a complicated feeling, that no three seconds look ever give you. 

Because you wanted a love that was constantly warm. Too hot or too cold would burn you all the same. You didn’t want a relationship that was all over the place, with too many ups and downs. 

And maybe, Seungcheol could that someone for you. 

You had been standing in front of Seungcheol’s room for the past five minutes, building up the courage no knock on his door, had already raised your hand twice but was yet to finally do it. Seungcheol’s drunker words mirrored your thoughts, so you had to talk to him.

You took a deep breath before you forced your fingers to tap lightly against his door. You didn’t wait for his answer and stuck your head inside. 

He was sitting on his bed, a book open over his chest while he scrolled through his phone. That was a scene you had seen many times while you were a teenager. It was easy to remember an 18-year-old Seungcheol lying on the couch, in that exact position. 

“Seungcheol?” he looked at you surprised, he hadn’t heard you knock on his door “Come out, let’s have dinner”.

Without a word, Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. His surprised eyes were focused on the food on the table. He clearly remembered you telling him that you didn’t cook, your mom said the same thing too.

“You cooked?” he sounded a little nervous, as if unsure that he should be asking.

He looked cute, you decided then. There was this childish look in his eyes, half in wonder, half in expectancy. 

Seungcheol was waiting for something to go wrong again. The last time you had gotten him dinner was the night everything went to shit. What if this time you told him that you wanted a divorce because of the shit he pulled the night before? He was honestly ready to beg you not to do that. 

“No, I got it on the way home” you waved a hand and he laughed and you felt your cheeks get warm “Are you feeling better? I left before we could talk”

He smiled and nodded at you, looking at the food in front of him. There was nothing special about it, it was something that he could have cooked, but still, his heart did a little flip inside his chest. 

“I’m sorry about last night. I swear I don’t drink like that all the time. Or at all” his own cheeks got hot “I’m sorry you had to clean up after me”

“It’s fine, really. Yeda was my roommate in college and I wish she would throw up in a vase. I think I cleaned that dorm more than anyone else that used it before or after us”

Yeda was a good friend, but she took the idea of being the life of the party a little too far sometimes. That alone was the reason you found yourself going back to your parents' house almost every weekend. You had convinced yourself that the two-hour drive was worth it, if it meant that you didn’t have to clean vomit again. 

The two of you eat in silence as you tried to find a good way to start a conversation with him. Why was it so hard? You had no trouble talking with him when you were teenagers. Sure, there was a lot of bickering but that was still better than nothing at all. 

“Is everything okay with you? You’re not eating” he said quietly. the food in front of him was almost gone while yours had barely been touched “You don’t like the food?”

You shook your head and set down your fork. 

“I’m a little nervous, so it’s hard to eat” he didn’t need to ask to know what you were nervous about “Can we talk, please?”

In silence, the two of you put the dishes away and the food leftovers on the fridge. There was no way either of you would keep eating so it was better not to waste any time.

Seungcheol’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour. He was certain, 100%, that would you ask for a divorce. He knew that you couldn’t do it. The rational part of his brain told him that it wasn’t an option at all. But the irrational side? It didn’t care. All the worse possible scenarios were playing in his mind. 

The first one, as he expected, would be for you to ask for a divorce; the second one would be you telling him that there was someone in your life, someone you were in love with. 

That thought alone was enough to make his heart ache. You being in love with someone else was too much for him. 

“Oh my god! Will you stop looking at me like that? I'm not going to bite your head off! I want to talk with my husband. Millions of people do that every day. I'm sure millions of people are probably doing that right now”

He smiled then. That was exactly how remembered you, that was the you he wanted to see the most on your wedding day, when he talked shit and you talked right back at him. Because there was no way that he would get to have the last word in a conversation like that. 

And it was also the first time you addressed him as your husband, at least in front of him. The first time you said it out loud. 

But in that moment you confused his feelings for fear when all that he felt was some sort of joy. How borderline pathetic was it that he felt happy over the simple fact that his wife acknowledged his existence?

“The things you said last night… I agree with them. Our marriage won't last very long, we won't last very long, if we continue this way. We will be broken beyond repair if we don't do something right now. So we have to change, we have to, at the very least, be friends but we will never get there if we keep going this way”

That wasn't exactly what you wanted to say but you hoped that Seungcheol would understand, wished that he would read into your sloppy and messy words. He was a lawyer, after all, it was what he did for a living. Right?

“Let's go out once a week then, sort of like a date? But not really” you shook your hand and covered your face, you felt like a teenager asking the guy you had a crush on a date “Just so we can get used to each other again, be friends and all that”

Seungcheol pressed his lips, trying his best to suppress the smiles that threatened to take over his entire face. With a short nod and shake of hands, you and Seungcheol settled down on another agreement.

taglist: @belladaises @minghaossv @lol6sposts @weebotakuboy @alifethatsonlyonthepage @donquixotesvt @dearlosver @dearxia @yogurttea @royal9 @desibrownie @feat-sun @itsveronicaxxx @soonyoonswoo @matchahyuck

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[sundrop-writes]

Loverboy

Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader

Summary:

You try your best to make Spencer’s first time a good one. Spencer can’t hold himself back, and makes it an incredibly memorable night for the both of you.

Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 3,100

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: mainly smut/pwp;generally under-negotiated kink; mentions of the social constructs around virginity and the social pressures that men feel based around sex; this is Spencer’s first time having sex and the reader is a lot more experienced; this is not an explicit or pre-planed dom/sub relationship, but there is dom/sub undertones to their interactions; Spencer is more submissive (and bratty/defiant - before becoming compliant) and the reader is more dominant/leading; the reader calls Spencer ‘baby’ and 'brat’; she reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; penetrative sex/penis in vagina sex; mentions of fingering (does not take place during the fic); “just the tip”; unprotected sex - the reader and Spencer agreed to use a condom beforehand but Spencer pushes in without one (the reader secretly loves it, but doesn’t want to tell Spencer because she doesn’t want to feed into his entitled brat attitude and this could be considered dubious consent because he broke her consent regarding using contraception); spanking - the reader spanks Spencer (very mild pain kink); something that could be considered 'premature ejaculation’ (but imo it’s never premature, it’s right on time); creampie kink - they both enjoy Spencer cumming inside of her; mentions of Spencer crying (from overwhelming sensations, not sadness or humiliation); overstimulation (toward Spencer); Spencer fucking into his own cum; I believe that is everything.

A/N: Originally, I had this idea when I was thinking about Lessons For A Genius, but I realized that it didn’t quite fit the tone of that fic, so I decided to write it separately. I hope all you Subby Spencer lovers enjoy it! (Also can you tell that 'just the tip’ is my new fav trope? lmao)

...

“You ready, baby?” You cooed, gently running your hands through Spencer’s hair.

You tried to keep that same soothing, sweet voice that you had been using with him all night, trying your best to keep his nerves at bay. You knew that this was an uneasy time for him - between the social pressure of being a man who had never had sex with a woman before and wanting to ‘impress’ you and his general shyness around other people. You just wanted him to be comfortable and at ease so that he could enjoy himself. Which, of course, was generally the point of having sex. 

When Spencer had asked you to take his virginity, you felt incredibly honored. He was handsome, and despite him being ‘socially awkward’, he was charming. He had his own unique way of flirting, and he did have his choice of beautiful women that he could have fucked instead of you. There had been plenty of gorgeous women from his past, so you were surprised that he was even still a virgin in the first place. 

But when he had been explaining it to you, he had mentioned that the ‘social awkwardness’ had played a big role. The nerves. He had expected that one night, he would simply kiss a woman that he was on a date with, and things would just naturally ‘go from there’. But it never happened like that. He never had that movie romance moment where it fell into place. So instead, he had asked you. 

He told you that he found you intensely attractive, and - the part he hadn’t told you - he had been fantasizing about this for a while. He found everything about you utterly perfect. From the way your clothes hugged your curves to the way you looked dangerous suspects in the eyes and screamed at them without flinching. 

(And stowed away as a deep, dark secret, he had imagined himself in that position many times - handcuffed to an interrogation table, screamed at by you until he was begging for mercy.) (But again, that wasn’t information he was going to just volunteer to give up willingly.) 

So when Spencer laid it all out for you, fidgeting nervously and explaining that he finally wanted to know what sex felt like - you couldn’t deny him. He was too sweet, and too pretty, of course you couldn’t deny him. 

Even though it was something the two of you planned, and you would have simply invited him over to your place for the night, he insisted upon a date night out - taking you to a lavish restaurant first. He said that he wanted to act like a gentleman before taking you to bed. And it was a lovely evening, so there were no complaints on your part. 

You had taken him back to your place, and you had done your best to make him comfortable through the kissing, the groping, and showing him how to ‘satisfy’ you (again, upon his gentlemanly insistence). You were plenty turned on just by being with him, but you quickly found out that he was a swift learner with more than just books and very good with his fingers. 

Now, it was time for the ‘main event’ - at least, the part that would make him feel less much like a virgin, marking that big milestone for him. 

To give him control and make him feel more comfortable, you were on your back with your head on the pillows and he was sitting on his knees between your spread thighs. He had his body pressed pretty much flush against your naked one, savoring the feeling of your warmth. He was almost completely naked himself - save for his very Reid white briefs, barely containing his seemingly very long, hard cock. You hadn’t gotten a good look at it yet - just the outline of it through his underwear, and even tented, it seemed very impressive. 

You really wondered how no one else had snatched him up as a partner yet. 

He was hiding his face in your neck out of shyness. His nervous streak was oddly sweet, but it was something you had been trying to coax out of him all night. Even if you found it entirely adorable and endearing. 

“‘m ready.” He hummed into the skin of your neck. 

This sent pleasant vibrations through you, making you moan lightly as well. You rubbed your hands across the broad of his back, continuing to soothe him, trying to get his stiff muscles to relax. 

“Okay, baby.” You told him. “I’m gonna take these off now, is that okay?” You posed, reaching down to the waistband of his underwear. 

He nodded into your neck, but you weren’t entirely satisfied with that. 

“Please use your words.” You told him. 

It was only after the sentence left your mouth that you realized how ‘scolding’ it sounded. How condescending. 

Oddly enough, it was that tone of voice that made Spencer’s cock jolt, and made him so buttery and compliant in seconds. 

“You - you can take them off.” He muttered quietly. 

“Good.” You praised him, your voice short and firm. 

You felt yourself very specifically holding back from saying ‘good boy’ in response. 

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and got them down over his ass. The material did get slightly hooked up in the length of his cock, and you tried to take a peek between your two bodies to get a good look at his now exposed dick. But you couldn’t see around him with the way he had his face tucked into your neck. Spencer untangled himself and clumsily got the underwear down over his knees and eventually kicked them off. 

He moaned when he jostled slightly and felt his cock nudge up against the wet heat of your pussy. You let out a hot breath at the feeling, tightly locking your hips in order to keep yourself from bucking forward and rubbing yourself across his cock. You didn’t want to overwhelm him with new sensations. And you didn’t need to tempt yourself with the idea of pushing him over onto his back, shoving his cock inside of you and riding him raw like he was nothing more than a toy for your pleasure. 

This was supposed to be about making his first time good - not about chasing your own selfish desires. 

Feeling curiosity flood him, Spencer finally pulled away from his safe haven tucked beside your head to prop himself up and get a better look. He put a hand on each side of your shoulders, looking down the length of your body to stare at the impressive heat nuzzling up against his cock between your thighs. 

He had become well acquainted with your pussy when he had fingered you, and he already knew what a gorgeous, warm, wet thing it was. But seeing your throbbing wetness right up against his cock, getting to see that natural gloss so carelessly slicking him up - it made him truly realize the wicked reality that he was going to slide his cock into that wet heat. 

He was going to fuck you. 

It was a thought that made his head spin, quite literally made him dizzy with pleasure. He felt temptation so ripe in his veins as he got up on his knees a bit more and the bright pink head of his cock naturally found your entrance, naturally kissing right up against it. He let out a moan as that heat fanned out over his cock, begging to swallow him up. He wanted to be swallowed up by you, wanted to be consumed whole. He bit his lip, knowing it would be wrong to do it without- 

“Hold on, baby, we need a condom.” You told him, trying your best to keep a firm, steady voice as you were overwhelmed with sharp jolts of pleasure.

Feeling the thickness of his cock against you - feeling him right there - it was almost too much for you. You were so tempted to roll your hips up and simply take him inside of you. You were so tempted to have him fuck you raw. 

But it was not what the two of you had agreed upon beforehand. You had to be the logical one - you had to enforce the rules. 

While you reached off to the side, to the box of condoms you had waiting on the nightstand, Spencer continued to stare at your glistening cunt with pure concentration knit over his features. 

He was biting his lip with a near bruising hard quality, his brows knit so tight that he likely could have held a quarter between them. All of it was just so tempting. Feeling the heat coming off you; so different from his hand, so different from humping into his bed desperately at night, so lively, so perfect. The feeling of your perfect wetness coating the tip of his cock. 

Something in his mind was screaming at him:

Just the tip. Just the tip. 

He could press the tip of his cock into you without a condom, just for a moment, and it would be fine. He would know what your pussy felt like on his cock without a condom. And then he would pull it out again and put the condom on and everything would be fine. 

Technically, he wasn’t breaking any rules. 

He heard the foil wrapper crinkling as you tore it apart with your teeth and his need grew even more urgent under his skin. 

Before he even fully made the decision, his hips were surging forward, and he was pushing his cock into you. He let out a throaty whimper as he felt more of that perfect heat and wetness enveloping his cock. He couldn’t have stopped at the tip if he wanted to - he likely couldn’t have stopped the movement of his hips even if someone had a gun to his head. 

He kept pushing more and more of his length inside of you with a heaving, broken groan as he fully sheathed his cock inside of you for the first time. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he felt your raw, wet cunt around him - no barriers, no asides. Just the perfect, unadulterated you. 

“Oh god.” Spencer moaned, bowing his head to rest in your neck again as he began to pant furiously. He was trying to keep himself from fucking into you like an animal mindlessly, just chasing his release. He was trying to simply enjoy the hot, wet, tight vice as it pulsed around his hard cock. 

“Spencer!” You scolded him harshly once again. “What the fuck?!” 

Your pussy throbbed with the fullness, only now truly feeling how big he was, and fuck - he was big. He was stretching your pussy out so good, making you clench around him desperately, unconsciously trying to memorize every single ridge and vein that you could feel. Because of course, without a condom, you could feel every single detail of him, including the underside of his cockhead bumping up against one of those incredible spots inside of you that was almost never touched by any other man. 

As much as you love it, this was bad. You had agreed to use a condom. 

You dropped the condom beside your head out of shock. This had been the last thing you had ever expected him to do. Spencer: someone who had been so timid all night. Someone who had asked permission to touch your breasts just a few hours ago. That very same someone had just pushed into you without a condom, without even asking permission. 

He had somehow morphed into a greedy brat in the span of a few minutes. And as much as that turned you on, you couldn’t encourage that kind of behavior in him, because it would turn him into an entitled monster. Every single instinct inside of you told you that you had to punish him for this, rather than spoiling him. 

He had to learn how to behave. 

“Spencer, you-!” You continued to use that sharp scolding voice, and unconsciously, it only turned him on more. 

His hips flexed forward, trying to push impossibly deeper into you, and you bit your lip, forcibly holding in a moan. 

“I’m sorry.” He whimpered into your neck, his voice entirely pathetic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh-” 

He felt your cunt clench around him, you becoming so turned on by his whimpers of ‘I’m sorry’. You couldn’t help but to love his pathetic sweet compliance. But then, feeling that wet heat tighten around him even more, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

He pulled his hips back and fucked forward once, and then - that animal thing inside of him took over. And he began fucking you at an even pace, chasing his orgasm inside of you as though you were nothing more than a hot, wet hole for him to fuck. 

“Spencer!” You scolded in a sharp gasp, trying your hardest not to show a pleasurably reaction toward his bratty entitlement and ruthless possession of your body - something he had not yet earned. Not by far. 

“Oh, I’m not sorry!” He moaned louder, lifting his head from your shoulder to give you an utterly filthy grin.

He couldn’t bring himself to be sorry anymore. Not when it felt this good. 

It was one of the most wicked things he had ever done in your presence, and it made you very tempted to reach up and slap him across the face - wanting to slap that grin right off him. You just barely held yourself back from doing so. 

He felt like he had won. At this point, he didn’t even care if it was at your expense. Right now, he was being so truly selfish. 

He was entirely unapologetic in his movements, pounding away at your pussy like it was his own personal toy. He fucked like an entitled boy, like someone with absolutely no regard for his partner’s pleasure - and oddly enough, that only turned you on more. 

It was a dizzying feeling that was only increased by how natural he seemed to be, especially for a first-timer. He was easily keeping up the hard pace, driven only by his pure, selfish need and chasing the heat of your pussy around him, never wanting it to end. 

He hammered his hips into you evenly, becoming sloppy at points, clearly only chasing his own pleasure in a way that drove all of your instincts insane. He absolutely wasn’t performing - he wasn’t fucking you with purpose. He wasn’t trying to make you cum. He was using your body for his own selfish pleasure. He just wanted to get his dick wet like the selfish boy he was. 

There was only one thought on your mind. 

“Filthy brat!” You spat out. 

Spencer couldn’t care less if that was good or bad, even though you hurled it out beside his ear like a cruel insult. He didn’t care if it was an insult - he was still getting to fuck your perfect pussy, he was still feeling you clenching around him as you huffed in his ear. 

All he knew for certain was that you were dripping wetness around him, leaking down over his balls. You were a clenching heat that made him feel like his cock was finally home and he never wanted to leave it. He let out a victorious giggle in between moans as he continued to fuck you. Although you felt an orgasm building in your belly, you felt the overwhelming need to put him in his place. 

You weren’t going to let him get away with this behavior, even if he did have a magnificent cock.

“Dammit, Spencer!” You cursed, bitter annoyance still ripe on your lips. 

Before you could even think too much about it, you reached around his body and sharply spanked the broad of his bare ass cheek. You were desperate to find something that would get him back under your control. It wasn’t even your most powerful swat, seeing as you couldn’t get much heft from the angle of being below him. 

But the hit left a mild sting on your fingers, and caused a nice smack of skin on skin in the room. 

In a second, the sting of the hit across his ass had his hips stuttering in inconsistent waves as he flooded your insides with hot cum. 

You felt a slight wave of disappointment as your orgasm dulled inside your belly, his cock stuttering to a stop and unable to keep up the pace that was driving you there. But then you were boiling with heat once again as you felt his cum leaking out of you around the base of his cock where the two of you were joined - you couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling. And you loved soaking in the filthy knowledge that he had cum so quickly simply from being spanked. 

He was definitely a brat who liked to be punished. Someone who needed to be put in his place by you. 

You should have been angry with him for foregoing the condom, and cumming inside of you so abruptly. But you couldn’t find much anger there as he bit your shoulder and moaned hoarsely as his orgasm pumped through him. It only lit a bitter fire in your belly, telling you that you were going to keep him, because this turned you on too damn much. 

Spencer moved to pull away as the clenching of your pussy around him became too much. But you weren’t going to let him get away that easily. 

You moved both your hands to his ass cheeks, digging your nails into the flesh there. You clung onto him hard and made a rough movement, shoving him forward until his cock fucked all the way back into you. You moaned under your breath at this and he let out a tattered gasp at the pure overstimulation. 

“You’re not done yet.” You told him, entirely demanding. “You wanted it so damn bad, brat. So go on. Keep going.” 

Spencer moaned at this. He almost wanted to argue - he was tired, that had been so much for him. 

But as he became dizzy with the feeling of hot pin pricks all over his almost numb, still somehow rock hard cock, he could find no flaws in your logic. He only wanted to say yes. He wanted to live inside your pussy forever. He realized that he never wanted to pull out if you weren’t going to make him. 

He tucked his forehead back into the crook of your neck and began fucking into you roughly once again, battering his hips between the sharp prick of your nails in his ass and the hot pool of his own cum that he had left inside of you. 

“Thank you!” He moaned out. “Thank you, thank you, oh thank you!” 

“You better fucking thank me.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, and there will not be a sequel or a continuation to it. If you enjoyed it, please comment about the body of work that has been written. If you like my writing style and want to read more about Spencer, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my other Masterlists to see if something else catches your eye.

[dairymistress05]

Colin as a character has been my favourite since Season 1 for so many reasons, but it was recently brought to my attention that he takes the emotions and opinions of women seriously, which is such a contrast to the other men on the show.

I can’t remember who the creator on TikTok was that I first heard this mentioned but it has been a bit of a lightbulb since. This is a long one so bear with me but I have some thoughts…

Example: Season 1 The Duel…

Anthony has decided, and honestly it’s rather infuriating how he treats Daphne and refuses to listen to her. Sends her to bed like a child. Then Benedict is with him and he just seems to implicitly follow and support him.

When Colin is informed he is shown to be bringing a rather inebriated Violet home, which is sweet in and of itself but also, his adorable humour is also a brief highlight “Good God, did someone die?” Which I loved.

But then, He LISTENS to Daphne. This is what I hadn’t ruminated on until recently, because quite frankly it’s so true to his character and something that I guess I had just come to expect of Colin.

Yes, he tries to dissuade her and He begins with the expected lines about dishonour and leaving the men to their matters, but when she speaks He Listens. He pays attention, he does not disregard her and it’s precisely because he listens that she is able to go and speak with the Duke.

Why is this significant? Well because his interaction with the Daphne in the scene in Anthony’s study feels genuine. Colin does not treat her “lesser” or ignore her. This is important and is in direct contrast to a scene Daphne has with Anthony.

Earlier in the season there is an exchange where Anthony says he would have acted differently if Daphne had told him about Berbrooke. She calls him out on his dismissal of her feelings “because” she is a woman and doesn’t believe that he would have believed her, and honestly I agree. However, I would suspect that No One would say the same of Colin. In every interaction with the women in his life, he seems to truly listen and to care about their thoughts and opinions.

Now before anyone comes at me in defence of Anthony, (Yes I know, it was the time period) and I also say, this is not about Anthony but about how even in the smallest of details the show and writers have seemed set Colin apart.

He listens to his sisters/mother and not in a patronising or dismissive way, not in an obligatory way either. He even has what could be seen as an inappropriate friendship with Pen, which for whatever reason, has gone unnoticed or ignored throughout the years.

So when it comes to spending time with her in Season 3, enjoying her company and truly connecting with her I would venture to say that the relationships he has with his mother/sisters might be a big factor in why he didn’t know how to/couldn’t contextualise his feelings.

He has had emotional relationships with women and values them highly so this is not seen as something separate in his mind

Until. The. Kiss.

Because that is the ONE thing that can differentiate his relationship with Pen from ALL other female relationships. No wonder he fell so hard,those feelings were always there, it just wasn’t until that physical intimacy that it all made sense.

Lastly I think it is all of this, Colin’s emotional intelligence, that makes his “persona” at the beginning of Season 3 seem so out of place. When Penelope (his arguably most cherished female relationship) didn’t reply to his letters he seemed to completely lose himself.

[alisonsfics]

old college flame

pairing: tony dinozzo x ex-girlfriend!reader

summary: you and tony had dated in college. you were the only serious girlfriend he ever had. after going your separate ways, you got a job working at the FBI, which means you hadn’t seen tony since. until NCIS and the FBI have to collaborate on a case.

word count: 2.3k

“Agent Fornell, is NCIS aware that we are assisting them on this case? You’ve told me how Agent Gibbs doesn’t like other agencies to step on his toes.” You asked your boss.

You both were currently in the elevator, riding up to the NCIS squad room. You had never worked with NCIS in all your years at the agency, and you wanted to know what to expect.

“Yes, Agent Gibbs invited us on to this case.” He informed you.

The elevator doors dinged, and you both stepped out. You followed after Fornell, since he knew his way around NCIS headquarters. “Agent Gibbs, pleasure to work with you again.” Your boss said, walking into a room with four desks.

Gibbs stood up and shook Fornell’s hand. “You must be Agent L/N. Tobias told be about you. You’ve been at the FBI for six years now?” He asked. You nodded, politely, and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.” You said, simply.

Gibbs gestured behind you. “That’s Special Agent McGee, and this is Ziva David.” He explained. They both came over and shook your hand.

“I read your paper about using satellite images during investigations. I thought it was really interesting.” You told McGee. He was flattered. “I’m actually working on that now trying to analyze images around our crime scene. I can show you, if you like. I could use a second opinion.” He offered.

You quickly nodded and agreed. “Here, let me borrow my colleague’s chair. He won’t mind, he has a thing for beautiful women.” McGee said, wheeling the chair from the empty desk over to his own desk.

You took a seat, and he showed you the screen. “I’ve been looking at this radius between the two crimes because we think the suspect lives in the area.” He explained, pointing at the circles on the map.

“We have an unsolved case from a few years ago that I think might be related.” You said, pulling the file out of your bag and showing it to him.

“It matches the other two crimes, and it took place right around here.” You said, gesturing towards the map.

McGee glanced over the file before typing in the third location. “That narrows our search area down by a lot.” He said, glancing over at Gibbs.

“Up on the screen, McGee,” Gibbs said, gesturing at the tv. From behind you, you heard the elevator doors ding.

“Probie, where’s my chair?” You heard a loud voice ask. The voice sounded familiar to you, but you weren’t sure why.

You turned around to see who was talking. “It’s being borrowed by Agent—” McGee started to say, as you turned around and made eye contact with Tony.

“Y/N,” Tony said, almost at a whisper. He was standing completely still, just staring. You were also frozen in your seat.

“You two know each other?” Gibbs asked, curious as to why you both were just staring at each other.

“College,” you both said at the same time.

You and Tony had dated for two years in college. He was your first real love, and you were his. You broke up because you were moving to different cities. You both preferred having a mutual breakup instead of your relationship deteriorating from doing long distance and ending with a messy breakup.

Gibbs and Fornell both snapped to get you both out of your trances.

“McGee, you and Agent L/N go work with Abby on this map. Tony and Ziva start looking into the cold case.” Gibbs delegated.

You stood up from your seat and walked over to Tony. “Hi,” you said, giving him a soft smile. You handed him the file, and he returned the smile. “It’s nice to see you,” he responded, left just as speechless as you were.

“Right this way,” McGee said, showing you to the elevator. You followed after him, looking back over your shoulder and making eye contact with Tony.

You and McGee stepped into the elevator. “So, you know Tony?” McGee asked you. You nodded your head. “Yeah, you could say that. Or at least I used to,” you told him.

“You two haven’t seen each other since college?” McGee asked, curiously. He had never seen Tony as shaken up as he was when he saw you.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, as though you didn’t specifically remember the last time you saw Tony.

It was when you brought Tony to the airport. He was leaving for DC. You both knew it’d be the last time you saw each other. It was the only time you’d seen Tony cry. You had a Hallmark-movie emotional kiss.

And you hadn’t seen him since.

You and McGee stepped out of the elevator and walked down a hallway. You both walked into Abby’s lab. Then, you noticed Abby.

She was typing on her computer, facing away from you both. “Hi, Abby.” McGee said as you both entered the room.

“McGee, did you hear? Ziva called me. Something about Tony acting weird around some girl. I was thinking secret ex-girlfriend, but that doesn’t really feel like Tony—” Abby started rambling, before McGee interrupted.

“Abby,” McGee said, loudly. He gave you a look of sympathy. Abby turned around, and her eyes went wide.

“Abby, meet Agent L/N from the FBI,” McGee introduced you.

Abby had a terrified look in her eyes. “See, you might think I was talking about you, but I was actually talking about someone else.” She lied, trying to smooth things over.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I get it,” you assured her. She looked relieved. The three of you discussed the map for a few minutes, and then McGee got a phone call.

“Boss wants me upstairs,” He said, leaving the lab.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” Abby apologized again. You gave her a polite smile. “You really don’t have to worry about it. Also, I thought you’d want to know that you were right.” You told her.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and you could tell from her expression that she was confused. “Wait, about what?” She asked you.

“Tony,” you said, simply.

She still looked confused for another minute, and then her eyes lit up. “You’re Tony’s ex-girlfriend? You two actually dated?” Abby asked, excitedly.

You could tell how shocked she was. She ran and grabbed two chairs for you both to sit on. You took a seat, giggling at her excitement.

“So, Tony actually had a girlfriend? Like a serious girlfriend?” She asked you. You nodded your head. “Two years serious,” you replied.

Abby was shocked. She’d never heard Tony talk about a girlfriend. There wasn’t even many girls that he took on second dates. He didn’t even try to seriously date anyone after you.

What you both had was special. Tony knew he’d never be able to replicate that, so he didn’t see a point in trying. That is what led to the long string of one night stands.

Abby’s expression shifted when she saw your disappointment. She was excited to learn Tony had a girlfriend, but reminiscing about your relationship just gave you regrets.

“When you said having a secret ex-girlfriend didn’t sound like Tony, what did you mean?” You asked Abby, curiously. She didn’t know what to say.

“Obviously, I didn’t know Tony in college, but now, I’ve haven’t seen him date anyone serious. It’s a lot of first dates that don’t go anywhere. What you both had must have been really special.” She said, giving you a soft smile.

You sighed, thinking back to your relationship. It was special. You both had the perfect fit, until you didn’t.

“I should probably get back upstairs. I wouldn’t say Fornell is the most patient boss.” You said, standing up from your seat. Abby giggled to herself. “Sounds like Gibbs,” she joked.

“What sounds like Gibbs?” You heard Gibbs as he walked into the room.

“I’m gonna head back upstairs.” You said, quickly walking out of the room. You waited for the elevator. When it dinged, you went to step inside.

You bumped straight into Tony, who was trying to get out of the elevator. You both froze. “Hi, again,” you said, softly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, scooting to the side to let you get in the elevator.

“I was just getting out.” He said, stepping into the hallway. You watched him as the doors started to close, when he quickly hopped inside the elevator.

He quickly flipped the off switch, turning the lights darker and bringing the elevator to a halt.

“Sorry, I just really needed to talk to you.” He said, turning to face you. You smiled at him, knowing exactly how he felt.

“So you’re working with the FBI now?” He asked, not knowing how to start this conversation. You nodded, giving him an awkward smile.

“Have you, y’know, been doing good?” You asked. Even after all these years, you still cared about him. “Yeah, I’m doing better. What about you? You ever get married?” He asked, remembering how you had talked about your perfect wedding.

You let out half of a laugh. “Nope, not married. Not even close,” you said, honestly. He nodded along, and you knew he felt the same way.

“Trouble finding the right guy?” He asked. He knew he sounded jealous, but you were his first love.

“Nope, I had the right guy. Just the wrong time,” you said, taking a step closer to him. He looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. We tried to stop things from ending messily, but I don’t think it mattered. Having to say goodbye to the person you love the most is always messy.” He said, slowly grabbing one of your hands.

He was nervous, waiting for your permission. You gave him a smile and interlaced your fingers with his.

“You never did anything wrong, Tony. You were perfect. I know we both have regrets about everything, at least I do.” You told him, honestly.

He could hear your hurt in your voice. He wished there was a way to go back and undo all the pain you both had been through.

“Trust me, you are not the only one with regrets. I am always wondering what would have happened if I fought harder for us. Maybe we would have survived long distance, or maybe I should’ve just taken the jump and moved to be with you.” He rambled.

He had never told anyone any of this. He felt so relieved to get it off his chest. “I guess we’ll never know.” You said. You were realizing for the first time that you both were living in the same city now.

Tony went to say something, but stopped himself. “Actually, nevermind. That’s stupid,” he said, dropping your hand and backing up from you. He leaned against the elevator railing, worrying he’d just messed everything up.

He went to flip the on switch, but you grabbed his hand, stopping him. “It’s not stupid. What were you going to say?” You asked him.

He took a deep breath, knowing he could blow everything up with what he was about to say.

“I was just going to say that I never stopped loving you.” He confessed, looking into your eyes with a look that made you melt.

You cupped his face and kissed him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you back. He spun you around, so your back was pressed up against the wall.

Your hands found their way back into his hair, like they had so many times before. It all still felt natural. He pulled you closer to him. He had missed you for years, and now he felt like he couldn’t breath without you.

He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, causing you to smirk. “God, I have missed you so much,” Tony whispered, pulling out of the kiss.

“Are we giving us a second chance?” You asked him. A giant smile spread on his face. “I have dreamed about having a second chance with you for years.” He said, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

Suddenly, Tony’s phone started ringing.

“Yeah, Abby, what’s up?” He asked. You heard Abby cheering loudly on the other side. Tony flinched, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“You got the girl back! You both are so cute together.” You heard her say, causing Tony’s cheeks to turn pink.

“Wait a minute. Abby are you spying through the security camera?” He asked, turning to face the camera. You heard the phone beep as she hung up.

You giggled to yourself. “Sounds like Abby is a fan.” You joked. He nodded, knowing what you said was an understatement. “She didn’t know it was you but she always knew I was hung up on someone.” He said, pulling you into a hug.

“We should probably get back before Gibbs and Fornell get suspicious.” You mumbled, into his shirt. You both pulled out of the hug, and he flipped the on switch.

You walked back into the squad room. You both were anticipating that Abby would have told the rest of the team already, but no one seemed to react.

“Boss is on his way up, he wants to talk theories.” McGee informed you both. You both nodded.

Tony grabbed your hand, which caught McGee and Ziva’s attention. They gave each other a quick look from across the room. They were both wondering what was happening.

Tony pulled his chair out for you, letting you sit down. Then, he leaned against the side of his desk.

“So?” McGee asked, looking at Tony.

Tony chuckled at his colleagues’ intrigue and curiosity.

“You may be seeing much more of Agent L/N” Tony said, causing both McGee and Ziva to smile. “We’re happy for you both,” Ziva said, smiling.

McGee walked over to you. “You’ll be needing this. I’m going to need to hear all about how Tony was in college.” McGee said, handing you his card with his phone number.

“We should all get drinks tonight. I’m sure you have lots of stories about Tony.” Ziva suggested. Tony knew he was going to be in for a long night.

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[chilahh16]

" This is where I leave you."

People say that the hardest thing in love is seeing the love of your life happy with another. They're not so wrong. However, they also failed to tell others that leaving the very person that has became your world, the very air you breath, and the reason for sunshine in the morning is painstakingly arduous and painful.

If only she was given a heads-up, she would have held on tightly as the foundation of their love crumble as every season pass.

Y/n L/n did not know when everything started to change. When the colors so vivid started to dim and the love as red as his dream car faded. She can still remember the very first time she held his hand, the first hugs, kiss, and the first of everything. She and Charles loved each other as if the love they have is the only right thing there is. Maybe it is at one point. Because looking back, she came to realize that she had become a liability to him.

As Charles Leclerc continue to soar in the world of racing, Y/n felt that she has been holding him down - stopping him from reaching his true potential. They are two worlds completely differing each other. As he stands and bask in the spotlight, she found peace in the shadows. They walk in fame and peace, separately, and that's when the support she had been giving was not enough, no more. That even when their love clings on to the hope that this can be overcome just like the other times it did, it seemed that their love has its limit. From the whispers of people to the unending hungry stares of women wanting a piece of him, as though he is a prize in a game, caused cracks in their hardened relationship that stood proudly with time.

Y/n loved him too much that she stood by him. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, and to the most painful of times. She was beside him when Jules passed; she became his rock and comfort. Even that was not enough for the world is cruel. It did not give their love time to blossom beautifully, it withered and died unwittingly.

Now, 6 years later, everything has changed so as everyone. But it seemed he did not. Looking as the blazing red car seamlessly turn and sped off to the finish line, proved her theory. His dream still stand firm and she was grateful she was there to witness as he stands victorious in his home race. Maybe everything did not change, because if it is, then it wouldn't hurt this much. The memories of the past still fresh in her mind - his tear stained face, the broken sobs and the tight arms that envelop her, haunted her for years and it was at this moment that she felt its full force. A wave of nausea hit her as she stands looking up at her past love. She could no longer stop the tears as she sobbed and held her chest as he proudly give honor to Jules and Herve above.

'He did it Jules, Herve. He conquered Monaco and they love him back.'

Hence, she turned her back one last time. Just like she did all those years ago. How she broke his heart and left him to pick up the pieces. But leaving him today hurts so much more as she made peace with the truth. This will be the end of their story. Every step away from him tore her further as finally she lets go of the past, of him.

"How can you be so selfish?"

Y/n stood stuck as the ever familiar voice laced with a thick accent reverberated in her ears. It couldn't be right?

"How dare you come here and leave again." It was no question as his voice is laced with venom.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." was the only thing that came to y/n's lips as her hands found comfort in them. She cannot face him. Could not. Would not.

"Did you really think it was that easy. Do you take me as a fool to just forgive you?" Charles growled as he view the figure of the woman he had loved in the past.

"Look at me and tell me why you did it." he yelled as he felt his heart constrict.

Charles Leclerc thought that he was over the past. That he had buried everything to the deepest parts of his memories. That he had already forgotten the shape of her face, her infectious smile, and everything good about her. How selfish can she be coming today and showing her face to him like nothing happened? How dare she cry as he triumph? How dare his heart skip a beat upon seeing her.

The man that he became is someone he does not even recognize. The podiums, the wins, the praises, everything felt like a buzz in his ears. He could not feel himself again. Upon picking up the pieces of him that was left after her ruthless goodbye, he has learned to close his heart. Every relationship after her was for a naught when every peaceful nights, her face is the one he sees as was every waking dawn. He tried to move on, to forget everything about her but it was hard. So hard that no matter the pain she gave, his heart still beats for her only.

And seeing her today, just proved it. He did not care about the win at all, he knows that he made his father and godfather proud. It was because of them that he was able to race but, it was she that became his driving force to continue. And when she left, the world stopped.

"Look at me." he pressed as he held his anger. Afraid that he would lash out in front of millions.

But he did not care. He wanted to know what happened. Why she left as if he was no more than a stranger. He give no mind to the eyes that follow his and her every move. To all the rumors and backlash be damned. He needed this after all this years.

Slowly but surely, he found his forest colored orbs trained to the eyes that held warmth from before. He was now met with the face of the person he had laid his heart to.

" Charlie, I'm so sorry..."

" Don't!... don't call me that. You have no right."

" Brother, not here. Please." Arthur begged as he held his older brother. Reminding him that all of Monaco has their eyes trained on them, that the camera has panned to their stature when Charles ran down the podium after the anthem was over. The festive circuit has quieten, nervously awaiting the scene to unfold. People of the world are waiting as the race was aired live.

" No. I need to know, 'Tur." Charles, ever stubborn, state as he stepped closer to Y/n, causing the woman to panic further.

" Arthur's right. Not here, please." Y/n stuttered as she felt every eyes on her frame. Mocking and judging her.

" What do you know about what's right. You left remember. You left me to die. You're. selfish."

" Stop. Please..."

" No! Not until you tell me why you did it."

"Just stop. Please stop."

" Then tell me!"

" I was scared!" Y/n yelled as the tears streamed unending. She has finally done it. If this is the last time, then let it be done with.

" After Jules' death, I came to realize that it could happen to you anytime. No matter how careful you are, there is no guarantee that you would come out unscathed. Every time you drive that car, I pray to God, to every force that is listening to protect you because I cant!"

" When Jules was on his deathbed, no one but me and your family saw how you seem to die with him. Yes, I vowed to be with you always. But if being with you meant that every second of every season you race meant death is upon you, how can I have the strength to be strong and be able to stay."

Charles was left dumbfounded. He did not know. Why didn't you tell him. He would have understood. He was ready to give up everything for her, even the sport he loves.

"I can't have you give up racing because of me. I don't want you to resent me in the long run. If breaking both our hearts mean you'll be able to race and win, then it was worth it." Y/n finished as she hung her head low.

She has finally said it. All those years of torment, of heartache, of everyday wanting to go back and apologize was not for nothing. Both of them can finally move on as the truth was laid bare for everyone to see.

" How..." Charles started, not knowing what to say. The anger that made home to his heart was easily melted by knowing the truth. If only he had known, he would have never stopped looking for her, never stopped trying to win her again.

What was the point of this 'what if's' now that she has clearly moved on. But he is not Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc for nothing. No matter what, he'll try and try up until he triumph. Hence, he steeled himself, ready for what was to come next.

"Why are you worrying of the things that has yet to happen?" he started moving much closer to the woman he has always love.

" Please, don't do that. Just because of what happened before does not mean that it will happen now."

" You can never guarantee that. I cannot have y-"

" Y/n, look at me." Charles softly cradled her face, wiping the unending tears and soothing the chaos that is her mind.

" The things that has yet to happen does not dictate for us to lose hope. To be broken and sad. Why can't we worry about it when it happens? We'll worry about it when it comes. We'll cry when we're there. "

" No, Charles. Listen to me. You will never understand this even when you know everything. It will never change anything. And I have no right to love you." All broken and judged, she laid it for him.

However, Charles pursued. He will never let her go again. Never. Even if she tried every way possible for her to hurt him, he'll stay. Now more than ever.

" Why do you need the right to love me? I will say this once and for all, it's okay. So love me like you did before...or so much more." he reiterated as his forehead kissed hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth that emanated from her.

" You do not have to worry about what happened before happening again. I will stay by your side until you beg me not to. I have loved you before, right now and always. So please stay." he pleaded for the world to see.

But he did not care. He only cared for her, for Y/n. Because after all this time, he never forgot. His heart has always yearned for her just like how it beats for her alone. And it burst with love for the woman before him as he gaze onto her eyes. He saw everything there. Everything that she cannot put into words. And who was he to not seal it, again. Hence, he kissed the life out of her. The years of longing, hatred and guilt poured into that one kiss as the world cheered for them.

The flashes of cameras and the deafening cheer echoed in the street of his home as his love is back. He made thanks to the God he had never believed and the string that has yet to snap. Indeed it was true, ' the string may bend and tangle, but it will never break.' That the years apart was no punishment but, a way for them to grow - to see things clearly, to look back and learn that what happened was worth it. Yes, it did break them but, it also taught them that a relationship is partnership, that it really does take two to tango.

But then again, they were but humans, the two of them. Faulty but faithful. Hence, they'll hold tightly this time - never letting go, and remembering the start. Because Pascale was right, we only regret the chances we didn't take.

[kritzel]

Adams Past Thoughts

(English isn't my first language so sorry if I make mistakes)

After finishing HH I got to thinking, was Adam always the way that we see him in the show.

Because he, Lilith and Eve were created without original sin. So it wouldn't make sense for him to be a complete idiot from the beginning.

Here's what I think could be a possibility on what happened (after all we don't know how biased Lilith's book is):

First he and Lilith are created

Maybe he didn't really boss her around and it was more like a situation of a sibling telling the other sibling what to do (I know they where married but it's the only example I could think of)

"Just because you're older doesn't mean you can tell me what to do" kinda way (since Adam probably was made first)

But it was not supposed to be an order from Adam more like a suggestion

So Lilith walks of and meets Lucifer

Heaven realises Lilith won't work as a wife and they create Eve from Adam

Eve is a lot more naive than Lilith

Adam is explicitly told to look after her and make sure she is alright

He does just that and they both are happy together

Lucifer and Lilith create the fruit

And in a rare moment where Eve isn't with Adam she finds the tree

Eve eats the fruit

She gives it to Adam

He eats it too because he loves Eve and doesn't want her to endure the punishment alone

Everything goes downhill from here

I believe they were not really capable of feeling negative emotions before they ate the fruit

Eve being the first to eat it develops a lot of doubts towards Adam

Why wasn't he looking after me? That's what he was supposed to do now we are stuck in a world filled with danger and death

Adam ,who before the fruit didn't care about Lilith leaving him, was now starting to yearn for the woman he never had. She was supposed to be his and now she is with the most hated being of all creation.

They never really expressed the thoughts they had after eating the fruit with eachother

Resentment started building up without them really noticing

They still held love for eachother and tried to survive in a world full of danger

It went alright in the beginning

They had two kids

Everything seemed to look up

But of course Cane kills Abel

And that was the last nail in the coffin

Adam and Eve could not cope with the loss of both their sons (let's pretend Seth never becomes a person in this story)

They still tried to stay together

But the resentment grows bigger

Love turns into hate and a lot of hurtful things are said between them

They separate and go there different ways

And lets pretend Eve really did have something with Lucifer

As soon as Adam hears about that his hate for Lucifer and Eve just grows bigger

What is wrong with these women? What is it about this Lucifer?

He develops a lot of doubts about himself in his living life. Which causes him to develop the fear of being left by anyone who he lets into his life.

After he died he hears all about how great he is being the first man and all

And over the years he starts believing that he can do no wrong and it was only his wife's and Lucifers fault that everything went to shit

And even though deep down he wants a meaningful relationship he opted to just go for hook ups in fear of losing someone again

And after a few thousand years those things develop into the kind of person we see in the show

But this is just one possibility

I hope it is understandable what I'm trying to convey

Please share your thoughts with me.

What do you think happened all these years ago?

[byunpum]

Ghost girl | part 3

Pairing: Neteyam x Albino na'vi!fem x Sully family

Warning: All the characters are aged up 20’s, bad relationships, teyam is a shy babygurl, soft & crush moments.

Note:Sorry for the late update, I've had a lot of work to do and I'm finally on vacation. I will try to catch up. But thank you so much for all the love you have given to this series. BTW… I'll keep answering requests. I have a lot of them in my inbox, so please be patient.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4,Part 5(final)

3 weeks had passed since the Sully family took you into their home. Your injury had healed, and little by little you had started to help more in the family home. Because the camp was a rather uncomfortable and small place. Neytiri convinced you to live completely in the family hut, in a way she felt responsible for you. After all she was the one who had found you in the jungle. She also felt that you needed her, so she promised herself to take care of you. Jake didn't mind this, he thought it was adorable… to see neytiri so worried about a girl totally different from them. But he supported his mate's decision, you were a girl who had lost her entire clan. They should help you and make you feel like part of the new clan. Or so they were trying.

The Omaticaya had never interacted with the Na'vi of the cold mountains. They had heard stories, and only a few had seen a few. Your clan was known to be very polite, a bit of a hermit and not very sociable. They were not aggressive, but they did not like to mix with other clans. Besides the physical and social differences. Your clan was different in their way of living. In the last few weeks you could see how everyone did their chores, how the clan lived together. Of course, all this from the door of the hut. You were still a little afraid to go out, you had walked around the hut. But no more than that. You were curious, how you were going to help them. You had to learn to do something. You hadn't noticed, but Kiri had already come closer to you. Sitting down next to you. "Hey…what are you looking at? Are you looking at tarsem?" kiri teased a little. This comment caught the attention of neteyam, who was getting his things ready to go fishing. "Oh no" you laugh nervously, yes you had noticed this guy's presence, but that wasn't what you were looking at.

Neteyam clears his throat, coming over to where you two were sitting. "What are you two talking about?" the boy asks, playing dumb. "mmm nothing…about Y/N. She's spying tarsem, that's bad" kiri continues teasing. "Stop!!!" you push her a little. As your eyes meet neteyam's, he had a forced smile on his face. The last few weeks, ever since you had arrived at the hut. Neteyam has been silently close to you and your baby. Watching you from afar, or sitting closer to you at meal times. Helping you take care of him, or just holding him while you did other things. Making sure everything was okay, of course…all with a low profile. Everyone thought neteyam was being nice and wanted you to feel at home. So did the other members of the family, but you… you knew this was not the case. Neteyam was forgetting that your gift as a seer allowed you to feel and see things that others did not. You didn't know exactly what that feeling was that neteyam radiated when he was around you. But you knew it wasn't something normal…it was something very intense.

"Tarsem is a guy…quite interesting" neteyam speaks with a hint of annoyance in his tone of voice. Playing with your baby, which was in your lap. Kiri laughs again, nudging his brother on the shoulder. "He's interesting…and he's very cute" kiri looks at you, watching you roll your eyes back. "I'm not looking at him…I'm looking at that" you point to the group of women who were separating some fruit. Others were making baskets. "Ahh they're just picking fruit" speaks neteyam.

"They didn't do that in my clan…in the cold there are no fruit trees" you say, while still looking at the group of women. Kiri and neteyam stand silently looking at each other. "No fruit? So what did you eat?" asks Kiri. "Meat…and some berries and herbs" you smile awkwardly. You watch the look on kiri's face turn to one of sadness. "It must be very sad," says Kiri. You laugh and settle closer to neteyam. "It's no big deal… my clan was located in the area where there are many storms. So these foods are perfect for survival" you try to explain to them, but you could still see the anguish in their eyes. If it could be a bit depressing, you could occasionally enjoy some fruits that survived in the cold snow. But you were used to it. "But… I'm glad to be here, I've eaten a lot of fruits and I love them" you smile shyly. Noticing how neteyam was literally glued to your side. Your arm was bumping against his. After a short silence, neteyam had an idea.

"Why don't you come with me to get some fruits?" asks neteyam, placing his hand on your thigh. You bristle under his touch, he doesn't know what he's doing to you. Of course, he couldn't feel what you could, it was all too intense. "I'd like to…but" you lower your gaze, watching as your baby played with one of your braids. Braids that Neytiri had made for you the night before. Kiri steps up, and takes the baby in her arms. "I'll take care of him…it will be good for you to go for a walk" says Kiri. You think about it for a moment, but agree. Herwì had just turned 2 months old, so he was a little easier to take care the baby. You stare at Kiri for a moment, you swear you can hear a voice saying "he'll be fine". You panic a little, they turn your head. "Everything okay?" kiri asks, you try to laugh. "Yeah, yeah….esta fine, if anything happens you look me for me" you agree. Watching as neteyam gets up from the floor, going to get some baskets.

"So what are we waiting for….let's go" neteyam says, placing his hand on your back guiding you. You give a last to kiri and then walk out of the hut. The further you walked, the more surprised you became. Not only by the differences between the na'vi. But by the amount of humans walking normally, it made you a little nervous. You knew that everyone got along well, and that these humans were not dangerous, even your instinct told you that you shouldn't be afraid. But still… you felt fear. "How about we go to my ikran, what do you think?" neteyam asks you, trying to distract you. "Really?" you sound excited, ever since you had seen the ikran you wanted to ride them. A couple more minutes and you are ahead of the ikran. You grab the creature's head. Neteyam is silent, watching his ikran go calm under your touch.

"You are precious" you whisper, closing your eyes. Neteyam's ikran becomes even quieter, just as you touch it. You could feel its heartbeat, you look up, staring into the animal's eyes. "You haven't named it, why?" you look at neteyam, who had already walked beside you. "Ahh I don't know… I didn't think he wanted a name" says neteyam laughing a little. Holding up the baskets. "Well yes…you should" you speak. "I should" there is a small pause between the two of you. "Ok…all set" neteyam climbs into his ikran, inviting you. You take his hand, and he helps you get comfortable. "Hold me tight" neteyam says, as you wrap your arms around his waist. Holding you tightly, so that the ikran begins to fly.

The view was so beautiful. The mountains, the wildlife. The clouds that adorned the tops of the trees. Neteyam was silent, noticing how you were relaxing. Just as you were gaining altitude, in the distance you could see what had once been your home, Neteyam's eyes opened wide. You could see the large area that had been burned. As smoke billowed from the burned trees and floated up to the heights. Neteyam can feel your grip getting tighter. He moves one of his hands, to touch yours. Which was now on his chest, giving it a squeeze. "That was my home" you speak, laying your head on his back. Neteyam holds your hand tighter. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry" neteyam feels you settle more on his back hugging him, he knew you were looking for some comfort. Neteyam has never seen first-hand what the brutal loss of his clan was like. Neytiri and Jake only talked superficially about it. Sure, he had seen destruction. But the destruction of this magnitude never. And that you had experienced it firsthand, it broke his heart. He felt bad…knowing that his mother had to suffer as much as you did. Or worse.

Neteyam diverts his ikran a bit, to take another route, and so get away from the area. After flying for a while, you both land on a branch. You cautiously climb down from the beast, while Neteyam begins to place several baskets on his shoulder. "I told you that I'm not very good at climbing?" you say, looking down at the ground. "No? Why?" neteyam comes to your side, looking at your worried face. "Well… I didn't have the need to climb trees. I was just…walking" you feel yourself getting a little dizzy, seeing the height of the tree to the ground. Neteyam holds you by the arm. "Oh I understand…mmm climb on my back" says neteyam, bending down to be more below your height. You move closer, hugging his neck. Feeling neteyam's hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you up onto his back in one swift movement. "Hold on tight," neteyam says.

"You're not going to let go…are you?" neteyam can feel how nervous you are, you're shaking a little. And your tail was thumping his hands. "No…but if you want me to release you to the ground" neteyam jokes with you loosening his grip a little. You scream and hug him tighter. "Just kidding… calm down" neteyam starts to climb down the tree carefully, it wasn't very tall. So you reached the ground quickly. Carefully releasing you on the ground, making sure you were okay.

"Well…that wasn't so bad" you speak, adjusting several pieces of your top. You were still getting used to how revealing these clothes felt. Neteyam comes over, and adjusts a piece. Carefully, checking to make sure it was in the right place. You stand still, noticing how carefully he touched you and cared for you. So different…so kind. Making your heart clench. "If we follow this path…there are some trees that have the best fruits" neteyam speaks, he was so close to you. You could see all his expressions, and how his little ears moved as he tried to find his way through the jungle. Taking your hand, to start walking. You don't complain, you let him guide you. After walking for a while, about 6 minutes. You get to where the trees were. They were all full of yellow and red fruits.

"It's harvest time…I know you're going to love them," says neteyam, watching you walk away. To get closer and investigate the fruits further. They were so strange to you, Neytiri was bringing another type of fruit to eat..this one was bigger and brighter. "These days are supposed to start picking this fruit…look" neteyam plucks a fruit from the tree, and offers it to you. He gestures with his mouth for you to bite into the fruit. You laugh a little, it looked funny. You take it, and take a bite. Enjoying the new texture, taste and smell you were experiencing. Your ears perk up, and your tail starts wagging fast. "You like it, don't you? It tastes wonderful" neteyam asks, munching on a fruit. "This…is delicious" you speak with your mouth full. Neteyam laughs, he thought it was adorable to see you discovering something new for the first time. You both sit on the ground, laying your back on a log. Eating more fruit, while Neteyam told you all about the fruit. He told you that this was not the only fruit there was, that there were hundreds of them and how they should be harvested and cared from them. You listened to him very attentively, surprised that there was such a variety of fruit.

After a while, the two of you started talking about anything and everything. Until the subject of your baby came up. Neteyam was curious. Since you didn't talk about your mate, usually couples talked about their mates. Even if they had died, they still remembered their memory. You had barely mentioned it once. Now you were sitting, eating another piece of fruit. Neteyam cleared his throat and spoke. "Y/N…I have a question?" you could tell the nervousness in his tone of voice. You respond with a "Hmm?" but continue eating your fruit. "I wanted to ask you something about …. the father of your baby" speaks neteyam. He notices how you have stopped eating, and you put the fruit in your lap. You look up, to see neteyam. "I've noticed that you hardly talk about him, and…" you interrupt neteyam.

"seyey was one of the strongest hunters in the whole clan, at such a young age he had a lot of experience. He had earned the respect of the entire clan. Including my father…the clan chief" you pause. So you were the clan chief's daughter, now it all made sense. "I guess…he wanted you to be with him," says neteyam. You nod your head in agreement. "He thought seyey was the perfect mate. Our clan thinks about preserving our lineage, it must be pure. So as soon as we came of age, we united before eywa" you spoke with your eyes on the ground. Neteyam didn't want to say anything, he could see how uncomfortable this topic made you. "The only thing that came out enjoyable, was my son herwì… we were unhappy together". "I'm sorry for everything…" neteyam put his hand on your back. "My father only wanted the clan lineage to stay intact…no matter what I really wanted. He wasn't a bad father, but he didn't listen to me" you speak.

"And what did you want to do?" asks Neteyam, trying to cheer you up a bit. You blush a little, a little embarrassed. "I wanted to be a slinth rider" you speak, neteyam is a little shocked. The slinth were dangerous creatures. "Those creatures are not from the jungle?… they are also very dangerous" neteyam notices how you laugh. "Yes…but the ones found in the cold mountains are another type of slinth…they are just like me" you laugh, taking a bite of fruit. "You can still be a rider…if that's what you want" speaks neteyam. You let out a sigh. "Well…what's done is done. There's nothing I can do about it. Besides…I think I know why I'm here" you tap neteyam on the shoulder.

"Really? And what's that reason?" neteyam moves closer to you. Wiggling playfully. "mmm I can't tell you" you change your face, laughing a little. "Come on…tell me!" speaks neteyam in a soft but at the same time playful tone. The atmosphere had become more peaceful, you both started to laugh. You knew what the reason was, you had a feeling that the reason why he had come to this clan. It was because of neteyam…because of the dream you had of him. Now you just had to find out what was the reason for your encounter with him. You two were so wrapped up in your own world that you didn't hear someone approaching. Neteyam was the first to notice the noises, there wasn't supposed to be anyone in the harvest area yet. Rising to stand in front of you, you carefully stand up.

Neteyam pulls out his knife, ready to strike at anything. But he immediately relaxed when he heard his brother's voice. What the hell is lo'ak doing here, Neteyam thinks. "Don't worry…it's lo'ak" neteyam lowers his weapon, watching as the voice continues to get closer. Out of the bushes comes lo'ak who was talking carelessly next to spider. You let out a low cry, and move quickly behind neteyam. Hugging his arm. "What's that 'thing' doing here?" you sound scared, you had seen the humans. But from far away. You had never seen one so close. "This 'thing' is spider…it's good" lo'ak says trying to calm you down. "Yeah…I don't bite" says spider, laughing a little. Everyone knew what you had been through, so this was a very normal reaction. "I see you" spider gestures with his hands, and you copy his greeting. Looking at neteyam, but not taking off from him. "I promise I won't hurt you…I'm good" spider felt somewhat responsible, even though he hadn't done anything to you.

Lo'ak had talked about you, the last few days. And he was fascinated to meet you. An albino na'vi and from the cold mountains. That sounded wonderful. "You've met norm?…you'd blow his head off" spider jokes a little. But your face turns to horror again. "no…I don't want to blow anyone up" you yell a little, whining. The three boys laugh out loud. "Babe..no. He says norm would be impressed with you. He just said a human quote" neteyam explains to you. "I'm sorry" spider apologizes. He doesn't want to scare you. "And you were doing here?" neteyam asks. Lo'ak points to the fruit in his hand. "Same as you guys…but without the romantic atmosphere" lo'ak scoffs. Neteyam laughs uncomfortably. "Why don't we go back to camp?" neteyam looks at you, and can see that she was still frightened by spider's presence. "Yes…I want to go back" you squeeze neteyam's arm tighter. You two begin your walk back to neteyam's ikran. Hearing the giggles of the boys. "Ignore them…yes?" neteyam takes your hand. You take another look and follow neteyam. "She's…she's very impressive" says spider. "I know…I've never seen anyone like that" says lo'ak.

Near the cold mountains…

"Sir…we've looked everywhere and nothing" says one of the warriors. The man clears his throat, holding back tears from his eyes. He could not look weak in front of his warriors. "Make a scan in the southern area, closer to the village" says the man. The warriors quickly look at each other with concern. "But sir… the humans may be nearby and" the man slaps the ground. "I gave an order!!!" the man shouts, all the young warriors get up and leave the cave.

"Father…I don't think we're going to find her" says a younger boy. The man strokes the back of his neck, letting a tear come out of his eye. This situation was killing him, he had to find her. "tekxe…we have to find your sister. I have a feeling she's still alive" says your father. Eywa always protects his chosen ones.

Teyam babygurls: symptoms-of-moonlight , tru-blubelle, mashiromochi, ducks118, @butterfly-ibuki, @innercreationflower, @ok-boke, @lovelyygirl8, @sandaltoesocks, @he110hon, @inlovewithpandora, @sussybaka10, @mommyneytiri, @daughterofjakesully, @symptoms-of-moonlight @ilostmyaccounf

If there is any problem with the tags, let me know and I will try to fix it as quickly as possible. tag list is open, just let me know *3*//

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Rick Sanchez Headcanons (Rick and Morty)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter! This one is a request from YouTube and oh my lord, the amount of research I had to do for this was obscene! Anyways I hope you enjoy this!] 

(Disclaimer: Rick Sanchez is not Yandere in canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!!!) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Rick From Rick and Morty- 

.Rick, is, in fact, a genius, but he is also an alcoholic, hot mess of a mass murderer. 

.But there is one thing we cannot deny about Rick, and that is that he loved two women in his life very much. 

.Diane his late wife, and Unity. These two women he had a deep bond with and when his wife was killed he spent his whole life hunting down the man that did it. 

.This caused him to become the man he is, a mad scientist. 

.Now in comes you, you just met Rick by chance a completely normal human, with a completely normal life. 

.Meeting this man has changed everything about your life and has made Rick completely obsessed with you. 

.It was obsession at first sight, he fell for you good and hard and knew you were the one for him. 

.He finally has felt something that he has not felt in a long time. 

.He is a very unstable yandere. 

.He manipulates you into coming with him on various missions. 

.He is a super toxic yandere that will manipulate you, most likely kidnap you, and possibly experiment on you. 

.He does care for you, and when your safety is on the line, he feels like his world might end. 

.And if someone did put your safety at risk, he would not just kill them, he would not just torture them. 

.He would make a world of all their greatest fears, and pain, and make them immortal, so every time they die they would have to go through it again and again and again. 

.He would make them suffer and he would take enjoyment in it. 

.He deals with rivals in a similar way, a bit at least. 

.First, he would try and buy them off, if that does not work he will threaten them, if that does not work he will just straight up shoot them. 

.Rick is a genius and in his mind the best of all Ricks. So of course he knows that he is the best match for you. 

.He is once again very toxic, he is manipulating you to only depend on him. 

.And also getting rid of anyone that would try and get in the way of his relationship with you. 

.He would want to possess you and be the only person you can depend on in your life. 

.He is very possessive and controlling of you and becomes very jealous very easily. 

.He is also the one who might just kidnap you and take you to a dimension where it is just you and him. 

.so that way no one will be able to take you away. 

.When he does confess his love he Is supper excited and maybe a little bit buzzed. 

.If you accept his love get ready for so GILF Grandpa I would Like to FUCK, sex. 

.If you turn him down, he takes this as a huge betrayal and we all have seen how well he reacts when that happens. 

.So he would one hundred percent kidnap you and make you love him by putting in a brain chip that makes you feel good when you are around him. 

.So that you would think you like him and your brain chemicals will make you have the same effect around Rick around someone you would be in love with. 

.It does not take your consent away but it does manipulate the hell out of you. AND Is a total invasion of your body's anatomy. 

.Rick does not care cause in his mind you still chose him so that means you want him and he finally has the love of his life. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done, oof Rick sure does have a lot of layers, and man do I feel bad for his family! Anyway I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all my sexy muffins!] 

[sunshine-jesse]

Ashley Graves Did Something Wrong

TCOAL plays a lot of fun games with the ways it makes you perceive events. From the title screen itself, to various pieces of official art, it primes you to accept certain narratives surrounding the game. Namely, the one that Ashley is very not good. She is, in fact, very bad! And it's pretty easy to see why- many of her actions fit neatly into the mold of an abuser. She's controlling, she tries to deflect blame, gaslights Andrew into making him take the blame for things she pushed him to do to begin with, and harasses other women to ruin his relationships with them.

It's all so easy, and makes so much sense. Case closed.

Right? Well, no. But actually yes! But actually, it's not that simple.

Y'see, as I said, the game establishes this framing from the get-go. It introduces us to our, uh, heroes and tells us in no uncertain terms that Ashley is bad and Andrew is a non-entity. It sets this framing intentionally so that many players will engage in a little quirk of human psychology called…

Confirmation bias!

I'm sure we all know what that is, right? Well, for those who don't, it's when we start with a bias towards something- or an idea of how things SHOULD be- and view every piece of evidence as confirmation that said bias is correct. The game, very blatantly, does this with Ashley's actions by priming us to see them as part of an abuse dynamic, with her as the primary abuser. And, indeed, it's not too hard to dig into Andrew's behavior and figure out that he, too, is fucked up and awful and come to the conclusion that their relationship was mutually fucked up and abusive. I did that in my last two essays, so I won't cover that ground again here. With this, it's easy to think that they bring out the worst in each other and that any relationship they have would be toxic, fucked up, dark, and every other word or phrase that describes the same idea, whether it makes them happy or not.

… But what if I told you that this, too, was an intentional misdirection?

So. Let us, for a moment, completely remove the framing that their relationship is toxic. Let us remove the framing that their relationship is abnormal or aberrant. Let's even remove the framing that either one of them is responsible for the harm of the other. I'm not arguing that any of this is not the case. Please, for the love of god, do not think that I am, if only so you can take the rest of what I have to say seriously. What I'm doing is trying to examine the two of them free of as many preconceptions as I can, using nothing but textual evidence and inference to figure out why Andrew and Ashley treat each other the way they do.

I will later examine why they MIStreat each other too, but first comes the reasons they treat each other well.

I'm going to start with Andrew, because, despite being the more complex of the two, it's actually pretty easy to figure out why he treats Ashley the way he does based on what he says. Let's go all the way back to the earliest known incident between the two in the story, where the two of them were at their most, uh, "pure," for lack of a better word: The cupcake scene.

Leyley was supposedly a problem child. She was neglected by her parents, disliked by her friends, and had nobody else but Andrew to rely on. She got nothing- absolutely nothing- from anyone else. And so, Andrew decided to celebrate her birthday, by buying her the cupcakes she wanted, by giving her what she lacked from others. By providing for her, and taking care of her. All he wanted was to make her happy, more than anything else. And, as Nina learned the hard way, at the expense of everyone else.

He doesn't lack empathy, per se. Andy just loves Leyley more than he loves anyone else by such a wide margin that his desire to provide for her overrides his fear of consequences… until those consequences threaten to separate the two of them.

That is a very Gender Roles thing to do. More on that later.

So. Ashley. Everyone's favorite disaster. Why does she treat Andrew the way she does? What does she provide for him? Well, isn't it obvious? She, too, wants to provide for him. Remember, she wanted the lemon cupcake because she thought it's what HE wanted. She also does most of the chores around the house. She prepares food, cleans the house, and does their laundry. She also provides for his non-sexual physical needs by offering him comfort whenever he needs it. It makes her feel useful. Wanted. Needed.

Ah, another very Gender Roles thing to do. See where I'm going with this?

The two neatly fit into a standard husband/wife relationship in a lot of ways. It's THE platonic ideal of such a relationship, actually! They make each other happy and provide WHAT THEY THINK the other really wants. It's really cute and perfect! As long as you ignore all the bad.

ignore all the bad …ignore all the bad… But we obviously shouldn't ignore all the bad. That would be ridiculous.

What I want to do is, instead, examine where the bad comes from, and why it's there. With the abuser/abused dynamic in mind, it's pretty easy to come to the conclusion that a mutual desire for control and power over the other is the sole determining factor. It's arguably the Central Theme of the game, and maybe a big part of what Nemlei is trying to convey. But, like, why should it end there? Why should that be where the analysis ends? There's a reason for everything.

They don't want to control each other for its own sake. They don't want to control each other solely to cover their own insecurities.

So why?

Ashley, first. She's obviously an insecure little monster, having never received the validation that she needs to really come into her own as a person. She keeps seeking it. Keeps trying to provide for Andrew. Keeps trying to make herself useful. Now, let's look at her calls towards Julia:

"DO YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!? Just because you can fuck him and I can't?"

Ah, wait, hold on a minute.

"You think that's love?! Are you fucking delusional?? Cumdumpsters like you are just that."

Where does that wording come from?

"He will never love you. Not like he loves me. I am the only one. I am everything."

She doesn't need validation just for the sake of her insecurities. She needs it because she needs Andrew to be happy, and in her mind, she's the only one who can provide it. She knows him better than anyone else. She can see how happy she seems to make him, and that nobody else can do what she does. She knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she makes Andrew more comfortable than anyone. She knows how important physical affection is to him. She can feel it. She doesn't lack empathy towards his plight or feelings; she has more of it than anyone, actually!

But Andrew, crucially, never seems to provide her any validation for this, even though she knows better. That's why she's so insecure.

"But wait," you might say, "didn't he, literally, fucking kill for her?"

Yes. But he always tries to place the blame on Ashley or use her as a scapegoat, when he was the one who pulled the trigger. He never accepts even the smallest amount of responsibility. And if a man can't even take responsibility for the violence he inflicts on others, what does that say about him? What does it say about how much he actually cares? oh. more gender roles. huh.

In Ashley's mind, that validation isn't validation because he didn't do it to prove he cared about her. He did it to shut her up. And… he never says anything to the contrary. He refuses to. All his validation is depressingly, overbearingly conditional.

His words always come with a caveat. They're always said in spite of something. They lack warmth. They lack kindness. They lack affection. She is never, ever given a key to lock the door to her insecurities…

…even though Andrew obviously has that key. He just refuses to give it to her.

But why?

Society! :D

There is something so fundamentally, obviously wrong with the way Andrew feels towards Ashley. She is a tar soul. A pariah. So horrid that her parents don't want her, so obviously bad that even demons don't want her. And yet Andrew, in spite of everything, still wants her. He wants to take care of her, when society tells him not to bother. He wants to protect her from other men, and even from herself. It manifests as jealousy because…

He, too, thinks the only one qualified to provide for Ashley is himself, because he was the only one who ever had. Violence comes so naturally to him that he takes it for granted. He kills for her, threatens to physically assault her when he thinks she's putting herself in danger.

It's so second nature to him that he thinks it should obviously be enough. But it isn't. His violence is so second nature as to be passive. It's non-committal. And what Ashley wants is committment.

But because of how society views Ashley, and how the world would view a romantic relationship between them, he can't truly commit to her. He can't give her the validation she really needs, because everything and everyone has told him that it's wrong. That she's wrong. And all his parents ever taught him is to be afraid of how others will react to that wrongness.

hey look, a man fearing the commitment a woman wants from him! more gender stereotypes!! I wonder what this game is trying to say!!!

Maybe I'm crazy or something. Maybe I'm just looking into it too deep. But I don't really care. I don't care if this is the intended reading, and neither should you. The fact of the matter is that most of the things that define them as toxic are not their fault. Most of the reasons they mistreat each other come from without, rather than within. The only reason they can't love each other is because the world tells them not to. Because it expects them to fill certain roles, to be certain people.

But Ashley can only ever be herself.

Maybe someone who's an actual expert on this subject matter could weigh in and give a true feminist reading. But me? I'm just here to point out patterns. I'm just here to point out facts. And one of those facts is that, to the world around her, Ashley did something wrong: She was born.

The Steam reviews of this game are fucking funny, but a lot of them say one thing that couldn't be further from the truth:

"I can fix her!"

No, you can't. She's only 'broken' in the context of her environment.

But in the words of another analyst:

It's madness to expect tar to behave like water.

So cut them some slack! They might finally succeed in a world that wanted nothing more than for them to fail. It's not our right to take that away from them.

[fury-brand]

Bizarre to me how unanimous the csm 167 tag is about interpreting this chapter as being SA and primarily about consent. I don't think it's either of those things.

Part 2 of CSM has had a lot to do with desire. The tension between Denji's desire for a normal life and his desire to be chainsaw man, and Asa's struggle to feel any desire at all, up to and including the desire to keep living at one point. A couple chapters back Denji talks about eating toilet paper and how it's impossible to go back. Part of what he's expressing and has been expressing is this idea that desire is ruinous. You can't go back to eating toilet paper once you've overcome desperation and been "ruined" by the desire for food. His desire for chainsaw man's violence has superceded his desire for a normal life and "ruined" it. Leading up to this he's saying his dick (his desire) has ruined everything.

But the answer isn't to cut off desire, the desire to be treated with dignity, the desire for a life where you are fulfilled, or sexual desire. Asa has been illustrating that. I think what's happening in this chapter is happening in the context of frustrated desire, both Asa and Denji's.

Asa has been very touchy about sex so far. She thinks that it's gross, and thinks that Denji is gross for wanting it. It's an obstacle to realizing their relationship more fully. But she's also heartsick and lonely, and in the same way Denji erroneously filters all his desire for intimacy through a desire for sex, Asa seems cut off from her desire completely. What happens in 167 directly confronts Asa with her feelings about sex, both Denji's and her own. It seems like Yoru is actually acting on Asa's repressed desires, and perhaps the two are not as separable as we once thought. They start kissing as a direct result of her remembering that they have kissed already before!

And this is chainsaw man so the whole thing is messy and awkward and certainly a mixed experience, but I will be surprised if the characters' enduring feelings about this will be that they've been violated or traumatized. Asa and Denji are peers. Asa is explicitly contrasting with other women Denji has encountered, being squeamish about sex rather than willing to exploit Denji's desire for it for her own ends. Denji's sexual desire is as real as his desire for connection. And Asa's desires for love are real, too -- Yoru seems to be acting on Asa's repressed desires, which were even more deeply hidden from her by Nayuta (a far less ambiguous violation, by the by). Reading what's occuring between them as unambiguously non-consensual and disgusting makes less sense than reading it as messy confrontation of the barriers in their relationship that will need to be surmounted for them to make the connection they're circling and desperately craving.

Anyway, plenty of people have said chainsaw man is often about sexual assault and so what were people expecting, but they're coming up a little short:

Chainsaw man is also about sex. Not just in the context of trauma, not just as a narrative tool to abuse Denji, just sex and desire and the awkward teen years that demand the negotiation of both.