#wouldn’t it be funny if all these answers were fake

[petrovna-zamo]

Whenever the dating show is brought up I think about this... 

[dumbseee]

oh shit.

pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.

pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.

genre: fluff

__

- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.

- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.

- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.

- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.

- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?

- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.

- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.

- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.

[kissitbttr]

miguel with a jealous fiance

-

“stare a little longer and you might actually kill her, y/n” jess chuckles as she follows your eyesight, spotting miguel being flirted by a woman whom you’ve never seen before.

you and miguel are attending a gala fundraiser. run by some rich bastard named ‘bruce wayne’. he didn’t want to go at first, but because mr. wayne had sent the invitations to you both himself, it would be rude not to attend. plus, it’s best if he’s out and try to socialize, make some new friends instead.

but now you’re starting to regret the decision when you see some red haired getting cozy with your man. she keeps touching his arm, giggling obnoxiously at something he said. which pisses you off because your fiancé is not that funny.

Ignoring jess’s comment, you twirl the wine glass softly, emerald green manicured nails clicking against it. you bite the inside of your cheek with cold eyes dead set on the girl. you wanted to laugh at how that woman had been trying too hard to catch his attention.

miguel isn’t doing anything rather than answering without holding an eye contact, casually sipping his whiskey on rock as he searches through the crowd. you could tell he’s annoyed. but it wouldn’t be polite for him to tell her to fuck off, would it?

god, you wish he had the balls to actually do it.

“you know he wouldn’t do such thing right?”

scoffing as if it’s the most stupid question ever, you nod. of course he wouldn’t. he’s too damn crazy about you.

“i know. it’s her i don’t trust” you mutter, almost growling. “that bitch could clearly see he has a ring on his finger. she fucking blind or something?!”

jess could only laugh while shaking her head. she thinks you and miguel are too much alike. a perfect pair. “then show her who’s the boss.”

“oh i will” you respond with hesitation, gulping down every last drop of your drink before setting the glass down on the table. “be right back”

with that, you flick your hair over your shoulder, adjusting the straps of your silky emerald green dress and begin walking towards your fiancé’. jess’s commentary about ‘try not to kill her’ from behind fall deaf upon your ears.

sorry, jess. no promises.

you could feel all eyes on you as you walk. it’s hard not to. men and women craning their shoulders to get a better look at the beautiful woman who looks like she’s invented class and beauty herself. the world completely stop when you walk through the crowd.

and not to be cocky or anything, but you’re fully aware of how gorgeous you are. with curves that look like built by the gods themselves, full plump soft lips and long, beautiful thick hair that cascade down to your back and eyes sharp enough to draw sailors if you were ever a siren.

it’s like looking at freyja the goddess whom paid a visit on earth.

as miguel’s eyes continues to scan through the busy evening filled with mindless chatters, his dark red irises then stop at you. a small grin creeps to his face when he sees you walking towards him with your head held up high.

but your eyes aren’t on him, it’s on the woman.

“i just think, that you are sooo-“

“so what?” you cut her off with a fake smile and arms crossed over your chest. standing beside your soon to be husband, you watch how the woman’s eyes then flicker to your figure. “making friends without me, my love? how impolite”

miguel shakes his head, his hand quick enough to snake around your waist pulling you close. “of course not, mi vida. this is—“

“not interested. so, you wanna fuck my husband?” your voice coming off venomous, glaring at the woman who seems to be shocked at your question.

a sigh escape from miguel’s mouth, one that implies ‘this is not going to be good’

the woman has her mouth hang wide open as she struggles to respond. she can’t exactly decide whether she’s intimidated by you or attracted to you.

“i—i’m so sorry… I didn’t know he had a wife—“

with a scoff, you roll your eyes. “you’ve been eyeing and talking to my man for at least twenty minutes. you’re saying that your eyesight is so fucking jacked you couldn’t even see the ring on his finger?!”

miguel could only stand there and listening to you scold the woman. because if there’s one thing he learned being with you? is that to not meddle or interrupt.

she shakes her head rapidly, stuttering out a nervous response, “n-no! i—i—I did see it, i j-just thought—“

“oh you did see it!” you exhale a sarcastic laugh. “and what, you think it’s okay to flirt with someone else’s husband when clearly he has no interest?! you really think he’s gonna go for you, sweetheart?”

the tone of your voice is far from polite. miguel could sense that, and he squeezes your waist in attempt for you to take it easy on the girl but you only shrug it off and pay no mind to it.

the woman look like she’s about to cry by how you’re scolding her. shaking quiet a bit and embarrassed that her flirty gesture had failed to steal someone else’s man.

“i’m s-sorry… I’m—i—“

“you” your raise your finger at her face. “need to get the fuck out of my sight before i drag you by the hair and beat your ass hard that no one will ever recognize that pretty face of yours again.”

she nods quickly at that, taking her champagne flute before walking away quickly. you’re still fuming on the inside. glaring at the back of that girl’s head until she’s fully disappears.

“damn, mami” miguel lowly whistles, a dark chuckle follows after as he moves to stand in front of you. hand around your waist still attached, pulling you close to him. “you’re so sexy when you get jealous.”

jealous. you hate that word.

everyone needs to know that you don’t take it lightly when it comes to miguel. he belongs to you and vice versa. and if you have to beat a bitch up to get your point across, then so be it.

“let’s get one thing straight, miguel. I don’t get jealous” You emphasize the word as you turn your focus on Miguel, giving him a stern look. “I get territorial. they need to know that you’re my man. I see a girl trying to take over my territory, then consider her fucking finished. you got that?”

miguel can’t argue with the fact that you just turned him on just by saying that. especially when you come off as demanding like this. It’s one of the reason why he fell in love with you.

bossy. ambitious. confident. and Independent. traits that miguel loves in a woman.

he smirks, looking down at you as he clicks his tongue against his bottom teeth. “yes, ma’am” he replies with a nod.

you nod back, crossing your arms. “good.”

“and just when i thought you couldn’t get any sexier” he shakes his head, squeezing your ass before leaning down a bit to give you a kiss on your cheek. “you do”

rolling your eyes, you lightly shove his shoulder. yet you can’t help but blush at the gesture. “easy there… we’re in public.”

he cocks an eyebrow, palm not leaving your ass. “and when has that ever stopped you before, mi amor?”

you bite your lower lip softly, remembering the times when you and miguel had done it over and over outside the comfort of your home.

yeah, both of you are pretty experimental.

“bathroom in 5. don’t keep me waiting”

[sexlapis]

yn and toji filming a buzzfeed puppies interview together then getting a question about if they would adopt a dog together 🎀🎀🎀

TOJI FUSHIGURO & Y/N + PUPPIES

⤷ cw: fluff, short fic, cute puppies, toji & yn haven’t exactly gone public but everyone basically knows they’re together 💀

a/n: needed to make this a whole thing bc i love this idea sm 🤭

INTRO

“oh my god!” you squeal as the crew members release six fluffy, tiny golden retriever puppies to where you and toji sit. the puppies immediately run over to both of you, and begin licking all over you knees and hands.

“hey, little guy..” toji coos and gently lifts the dog in his hands, practically dwarfing the small animal in the size of them. “such a little squirt, huh?”

you on the other hand, now have three bundles of pale yellow fluff bundled up in your arms, cradling them like they’re your children. “oh my god, oh my god. they’re all coming home with me, i’ll make it happen somehow.”

IF YOU WERE AN ANIMAL, WHAT ANIMAL WOULD YOU BE?

“easy.” toji begins, smirking. “i’d be a wolf. i-”

in the midst of rubbing the belly of one of the puppies, you snort harshly at his answer, pulling you lips together.

toji drops the smirk and looks at you while he rocks two puppies in crook of his big arms. “what’s funny?”

“toji…you? a wolf? i don’t think so..”

toji scoffs. “what’d you think i’d be then?”

“hmm.. i think.. i think you’d be a chipmunk.”

“chipmunk?!” toji exclaims. “no way!”

you hold one of the puppies up to your face, speaking in a baby voice. “toji would be a chipmunk, wouldn’t he? yes he would! yes he would!”

“i would- you know what you would be?” he starts and you know he’s probably going to say something crazy. “you’d be a pterodactyl.”

“a what!” you cackle, dropping your head onto the floor and laying on your stomach. some of the puppies start climbing on your back. “what the hell would i be a dinosaur?”

he puts one of the puppies on the ground and it rests on his shoe. “pterodactyls ain’t dinosaur actually-”

“ok, toji the palaeontologist, why the hell would be a pterodactyl?”

toji shrug, nuzzling the puppy in his arm. “y’know.. they’re loud..and they got big mouths.”

you gasp. “that is-” you puff your cheeks and start throwing the squeaky toys at him aggressively.

“hey! stop!”

IF YOU COULD ACT WITH ANY ACTOR, WHO WOULD IT BE?

“oh, definitely mikasa ackerman.” you answer. “she’s so talented and sweet.” you bounce the puppy in your arms, one who seems to especially love you and toji. “she’s so sweet! yes she is!”

“yeah i’ve heard good things about her..” toji said. “‘think my choice would be..nanami kento. he’s done good work..seems respectable.”

“wow, really? you’d both hate each other.”

“_____, why are you so negative?” toji asks, faking seriousness. “we would get along. don’t be jealous.”

“jealous?!”

“yeah, jealous,” toji picks up the smallest puppy and it to his chest, stroking its head, “ain’t that right? she’s jealous, right?” he shakes his head at you while shaking the head of the puppy with his hand. “she’s so- oh, that one’s taking a shit on the floor.”

you turn and there it was, a tiny puppy, in toji’s words, taking a shit.

“ew.. i forgot they just did that…”

when the puppy finishes it’s…business, the other puppies run over and start sniffing it.

“oh fuck, they’re about to eat his fucking shit.” toji wheezes, shoulders bouncing m. “their faces just make you forget how fucking disgusting they are..”

“eugh, they’re so nastyy.” you cringe at them, cooing at the puppy in your lap. “but you’re not like they are you?”

WOULD YOU ADOPT A PUPPY TOGETHER?

“yes! yes we would!” you rest the female puppy in your arms. “wouldn’t we, toji?”

toji looks at you, admiring how adorable you look with the adorable, little puppy in your arms. he looks back to the puppies in his arms and lap. “‘couldn’t hurt..”

you shout happily. “toji, we’re taking this one home.” you lift the puppy in your hands to the sky like she’s simba. you look off camera. “can we take this one home? please?”

at the end of the video, you’re hugging toji along with the other puppies. “you’re all coming home with me!”

toji looks to the camera for help

(and that’s how you both end up with 6 golden retriever puppies for pets :))

[beom-pyu]

truth or drink! (couples edition): choi yeonjun

based off those truth or drink videos by cut on yt! who's next?

other parts: beomgyu & taehyun "my ex + my boyfriend edition" soobin "engaged edition" kai "blind date edition"

nsfw! (minors dni.)

welcome to truth or drink! couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.

“hi, i’m y/n.”

“and i’m yeonjun.”

how long have you guys been together?

YOU: “nine months.”

YJ: “nine months, really? i thought it was already a year.”

YOU: “that friends with benefits stage doesn’t count, i think.”

YJ: “ohhh, okay, okay.”

how did you meet?

YOU: “we had a class together in our freshman year of college and i thought he was sexy.”

YJ: “that’s it? you weren’t like attracted to my kind nature and generosity?”

YOU: “no, you just looked like you had good dick.”

yeonjun shrugs at the camera, a small smile on his lips.

YEONJUN: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever said about me to your friends?

you immediately reach for the bottle of fireball, pouring your shot glass to the very top. yeonjun glances at you, to the camera, and back to you, a disbelieving puff of laughter leaving his lips.

YJ: “was it that bad?”

YOU: “you used to be an asshole, jun.”

YJ: “...okay, fair.”

YOU: when was the last time you masturbated, and where was i?

YJ: “this morning. and you were right next to me.”

YOU: “why didn’t you wake me up?”

YJ: “you’re like the devil reincarnated in the morning.”

YOU: “i thought you were into that?”

YJ: “...”

you smile as yeonjun quickly pours himself a shot.

YEONJUN: what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done sexually with an ex?

YOU: “pour me a shot.”

YJ: “no, no, i actually wanna hear this.”

YOU: “oh my god. uh—okay. i fucked one of my exes with a 10 inch tentacle dildo.”

…

YJ: “can we try this sometime?”

YOU: “yeonjun.”

YOU: if i was put in a coma, how long would you wait for me?

YJ: “at least a good… year? maybe two.”

YOU: “wow… you wouldn’t wait an eternity for me? am i not the love of your life?”

YJ: “hell no. you run up my wifi bill.”

YEONJUN: when was the last time you faked an orgasm and why?

YOU: “i've never faked one.”

YJ: “you heard it here, folks.”

YOU: what would you think if you caught me watching porn?

YJ: “without me?”

YOU: “he’s actually said this before.”

YJ: “what if it was me?”

YOU: “‘again?’”

YJ: “okay, next question.”

YEONJUN: if our sex life was a porn genre, what would it be?

YOU: “dominatrix meets pegging meets cuckhold meets—”

YJ: “none of this is true by the way.”

you give him a pointed look

YJ: “some of it is true.”

YOU: have you ever had a crush on any of my friends before we started dating?

YJ: “you never brought me around your friends!”

YOU: “i’m pretty sure i did, like once or twice. it would’ve been awkward 'cause they knew we were fucking.”

YJ: “i brought you around my friends and they knew—wait, did you have a crush on any of my friends?”

YOU: “...pour me another shot, please.”

YEONJUN: name two celebrities you’d want to have sex with if we weren’t together.

you immediately take a shot.

YJ: “woah, wait why?”

YOU: “because i’d like a peaceful drive home.”

YOU: how many sexual partners have you had?

YJ: “maybe like… seven. eight?”

YOU: “you’re lying.”

YJ: “i’m not! do you think i’m a whore?”

YOU: “well, i’m dating you, so yes.”

YEONJUN: have you ever thought about cheating on me?

YOU: “you already know, but i’m taking a shot.”

YJ: “this is actually a funny story. so, there’s this guy named soobin—”

YOU: “okay, slow down—”

YJ: “and y/n didn’t cheat, but they asked if we could have a threesome—”

YOU: “we did have the threesome, by the way.”

YJ: “yes, we did.”

YOU: “we should call him later.”

YJ: “nah, i think we scared him off for good.”

YOU: have you ever considered having an open relationship?

YJ: “surprisingly, no. this is probably the first stable relationship i’ve ever been in and i don’t have any intentions on being with someone else right now.”

YOU: “agreed.”

YJ: “you’re all mine, baby.”

YOU: “...can i take a shot, just for that?”

YJ: “shut up, you love it.”

YEONJUN: what’s the one thing you would change about me?

YOU: “hm… well, you do get super defensive about the littlest things.”

YJ: “i do not! what the hell?”

you deadpan the camera.

YOU: what’s my biggest flaw?

YJ: “you’re like a borderline workaholic.”

YOU: “i agree with that.”

YJ: “and me?”

YOU: “hm… you’re very, very forgetful.”

YJ: “i’m like dory.”

YOU: “yea, except dory is actually cute.”

…

YJ: “is the video almost over?”

YEONJUN: what’s your favorite thing about me?

YOU: “you always manage to make me feel safe and loved, even when my confidence is really low.”

YJ: “woah… i thought you were gonna say my stroke game or something.”

YOU: “i mean… that too.”

YOU: why do you love me?

YJ: “who said i love you?”

YOU: “cut the cameras.”

YJ: “i’m kidding, i’m kidding. um, well i feel like i always have? like we’ve been friends for so long, but no one has ever made me feel the way you do. i’ve never been happier… like i’m my true self around you, and i know i can be because you’d never judge me for that, yknow?”

YOU: “awe. guys, i’m gonna cry.”

YJ: “they’re actually crying, look. zoom in.”

YOU: “and that’s a wrap! thank you for watching this video! don’t forget to like and subscr—”

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

[theemporium]

may i request a quinn hughes fic, about them being neighbours (reader is a good 4 years younger than him) in the same apartment building (and think the others cute), see eachother in the elevators all the time, but eventually they talk and boom bam you picture the rest

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

After one of the worst days of your life, it shouldn’t have surprised you that the universe would pick today of all days for your cute neighbour to catch you outside your apartment.

If it had been any other day, it would have been a funny situation you could have laughed at and maybe joked about. But it wasn’t any other day, it was today and today fucking sucked. From your alarm not working in the morning to missing the bus, to spilling coffee all over your notes in a lecture to getting yelled at during your shift at a local cafe. 

From the moment you woke up, everything seemed to be going wrong and you just wanted to crawl into bed, maybe indulge in a takeout and cry in bed with the hope that tomorrow would be better. Except, you had climbed the flights of stairs to your apartment (because of course the elevator was broken) only to find out you left your keys inside when you were rushing around that morning. And, according to the message from your landlord, the blacksmith wouldn’t be able to come out for another few hours. 

Which left you sitting against your apartment door, soaked to the bone because Vancouver weather was no joke, sniffling to yourself because an attempt to call your mother and cry to her failed when it rang into voicemail. 

So of course that was exactly how Quinn Hughes had to find you. 

“Are…are you okay?” 

Your head snapped up to find the boy standing a few feet away from you, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie with a gym bag over his shoulder. He looked ridiculously cute in the blue Canucks beanie on his head and the soft expression on his face as he took in your current state. 

“I got locked out,” you answered with a pathetic laugh because if you didn’t laugh, you would have cried. Again. 

“That isn’t what I asked,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I asked if you were okay.”

“Yeah, totally,” you scoffed, waving him off. “I’m so fine.” 

You waited for him to nod, accept your answer and make his way to his apartment a few doors down. Instead, you were surprised to find him dumping his bag on the floor and settling against the wall across from you as he sat on the floor.

“You look like you’ve had a rough day,” he admitted with a sheepish expression.

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you snorted.

His cheeks burned a little. “No, I didn’t mean like that—” But he stopped when you snickered a little, something in his chest easing at the sound. “I just meant you aren’t smiling properly.”

You raised your brows. “Smiling properly?”

“Yeah, your smile seems fake. Usually you have these big smiles on your face whenever I see you,” Quinn confessed. 

“Maybe those are reserved just for you,” you said the words before you could stop them, your face burning even hotter. 

“I would hope so,” Quinn retorted. 

You pressed your lips together, trying to resist the urge to let one of those massive smiles take over your face. However, the boy caught your attention again as he lightly nudged your leg with his foot.

“How about you wait at my place until the blacksmith comes?” Quinn asked, and despite the bravado a captain should have, he looked a bit nervous. “I’ll give you some clothes to change into before you catch a cold.”

You started shaking your head. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he answered quickly. “I want to help.”

Your gaze softened. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he said as he moved to stand up again, grabbing his bag and swinging it over his shoulder before stretching his hand out to help you up. “And in return, maybe you can tell me what happened to make it look like you went through a war zone.”

“Way to charm a girl, Hughes,” you snorted.

“It seems to be working alright so far,” he countered, a cheesy grin on his face as he pulled you towards his apartment, not quite ready to let go of your hand just yet. But neither were you.

.

[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 alchohol/consumption of alchohol, 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. 

[heecyon]

𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 & 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒; 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 —teaser

pairing: ceo!park sunghoon x coffee shop owner!fem!reader

genre: one night stand, fake relationship, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, and accidental pregnancy.

summary: Park Sunghoon was done with his grandfather begging for an heir. Being the CEO of the Northern Branch, Sunghoon wasn't ready for a relationship just yet and neither was he ready to have a baby. So, after being arranged a blind date, he meets you, and soon convinces you to run away with him far away from your dates, as you were arranged a blind date as well with a different guy. And after a night of talking, flirting and alcohol, you both ended up in an hotel bed. Being attracted to an stranger wasn't in your plans, but soon everything goes to hell when you discover that you are pregnant with sunghoon's child.

release date: between late november and mid-december

2nd installment for CEOs & ARRANGEMENTS with enha 02z

“So, you’re a CEO?”

Sunghoon’s cheeks blushed from the amount of alcohol that he had chugged down. And you were not innocent, either, your hair was kind of messy from how much time you had combed it back with your fingers, and your mind was racing in a million places because of the two bottles of Henri Bourgeois that you had shared with the flushed boy in front of you.

“Yep, Park Sunghoon, Northern Branch.” His voice came out like a tumble, his mind not processing what his sentences meant. He was not a person to drink, he usually did not do it, especially with a person he just met, and especially not in his hotel room, but tonight he felt in a place of trust, and you felt the same, except that the only difference was that you were somebody to drink with friends, but not with people who you had just met.

You pressed your elbows against the table, your teeth clutching against the tip of your nail. “Who would’ve thought that I’d be sitting in front of the famed Park Sunghoon? I guess it’s a one-in-a-million-type of situation.” “Especially, if I’m getting drunk on glasses of wine while having him sat across from me.”

“Who would’ve thought? I just came to New York to finish some unsolved company partnerships, and now I’m ending my trip with a forced blind date that I just escaped from, with a pretty, tipsy girl who I took with me in the process.” He answered sluggishly, his brows lifting up with sarcasm as he spoke.

Your brain suddenly stopped tracing around, by just emphasizing one word he said.

“You think I’m pretty?” Your voice came out like a wave, a small smile setting on your mouth.

“Why wouldn’t I? You are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

“It makes me happy that you think I’m pretty, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t think that I’m pretty. I’m pretty sure that I’m pretty.” You suddenly rambled, the words came out fast as a train, all because your nerves and the alcohol took complete control over you. But, Sunghoon just found it funny in his drunken state, he found it adorable, to say the least.

He was almost slushed on the table, his arm being completely settled on the wooden board.

For you, he looked so handsome, his arms were toned, and it was visible against his dress shirt, his fingers slender and delicate, you were convinced that his hands were soft as silk pillows.

But his face was absolutely gorgeous, with features that could've been chosen by the Greek Gods themselves.

"You are so handsome, like really handsome, the type of handsome that was kissed and blessed by Aphrodite and Princess Diana." The words vomited out of your mouth like a splutter. You weren't expecting your drunken state to reveal such a thought, but when you looked at Sunghoon it didn't seem to bother him.

"Kissed by Aphrodite and Princess Diana? Never heard of such compliment." His voice came out slurred and dazed, but it sounded as if he was in a dream-like state.

His lips were red and glossy, his eyes shone from the reflection of the New York lights. The more you looked at his lips, the more you wanted him to touch every part of your body.

"Well, now you've heard it…"

He tapped his chin for a moment before unexpected words came out of his mouth.

"What if I told you that it would be a real compliment if you told me that I was kissed by you?" Your heart skipped a beat as your stomach fell and came back up from the impression. Your heartbeat quickened and did everything it could to go back to normal.

You got up from your chair, walking towards him with tremendous mischief. I'm pretty sure it was the immense amounts of alcohol acting up for you.

His figure sat in front of you, his gaze analyzing every single part of your body, especially your lips, and the shimmer on your eyes.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Oh, Cindy! I want you to do that and more."

Never in your life did you think that you would be taking a pregnancy test inside a pharmacy bathroom.

But you were going through desperate times. It needed to be done as quickly as possible. It was mostly because you needed to calm your frantic nerves and also get out of any doubts that you had. The worst part was the fact that you wouldn't be worrying about this if you just didn't run away from your blind date with a complete stranger.

Complete stranger that could possibly be the father of this possible baby.

You just needed to confirm if you were actually pregnant.

"Shit!"

Two lines.

[i9messi]

Hi love ❤💃 could you maybe write something with charles leclerc x girlfriend reader, maybe shes a actor and does a movie with harry styles maybe like don't worry darling and charles is jelous because every where are scenes of them kissing and having ,,sex" from the movie

Acting — Charles Leclerc

Word count: 720

a/n: fluff

charles' masterlist

"Charles, baby, are you alright?"

You and your boyfriend had just arrived from the premiere of your new movie. Charles had been there to hold your trembling hands, to remind you that you were doing great, and also to bring you calm in all that commotion. It was your first starring role, a very important moment for your acting career and you didn’t want to ruin it.

Everything had gone very well, you had posed for the cameras and then in the cinema room you had sat next to your other co-workers and of course, next to your boyfriend. The film was applauded and you were happy with the result of your performance. It was a film that you had put a lot of time and effort into, and now that the movie had come out, you were proud of your work.

However, your boyfriend has been acting a little weird since he finished watching the movie. At first, he kept smiling, but once you finished watching the film, Charles had driven home quietly. Something was wrong, you could tell by the way his brow was furrowed and he didn’t say anything. Now that you were in the comfort of your home, your boyfriend went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

You took off the heels that hurt your feet and waited for his answer. Charles finally spoke.

"Did you have to kiss so much?"

"Excuse me?"

"You and that guy. In every scene you were practically doing it, well, in a lot of scenes you were doing it."

You finally understood what was happening to him. Some scenes had been quite intimate between you and your co-star, that was true, but everything was fake and for the sake of the movie.

"It’s called acting. It wasn’t real, Charles."

"It seemed quite real to me."

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

Your boyfriend was a bad liar. You looked at him for a moment, his face showing how much he had bothered to see you kiss another man. He was serious, just like when during a bad race. It was a face you knew a lot, because whenever things went wrong, he would come to your side to find comfort.

"No way.... You’re actually jealous."

"Maybe I am a little bit jealous. But who wouldn’t be? You were kissing him!"

"Nothing was real, is just my job, Charles. It’s a movie, I’ve acted before and I can swear I never developed any feelings for my other teammates."

Even the scenes of sexual intercourse had been completely taken care of, you and your co-star had shared nothing but fake kisses. Charles remained upset about what had happened and you had the amazing idea to start laughing. It was funny because he didn’t have a real reason to be jealous, you couldn't care less about the other actor, not at least in the way he was concerned about.

"What are you laughing at? I don’t see anything funny..."

"You’re cute."

You narrowed the distance between you and him and decided to kiss your boyfriend. Charles seemed a little calmer once your lips came together, maybe all the questions and doubts disappeared once he knew you were there with him. The kiss you shared was true, his lips made you tremble and feel something in your heart. However, the kisses in the film had no meaning, you had felt nothing. You were in love with him.

"I love you, Charles. I choose you, I always choose you. It was just a movie and I was just acting, you don’t have to be jealous of anyone because I’m yours."

Charles finally opened his eyes and looked at you through his eyelashes.

"You’re mine?"

"Yes, I’m yours."

"Good."

This time, he kissed you. His lips joined in a warm kiss and his hands approached your face and your hair, in a desperate grip to draw you even closer to him. His hands then went down to your waist, leaving soft caresses on your skin, above your dress. You took your time to be able to breathe again, Charles had a unique way of making you feel loved.

"Sorry for everything. I just didn't like that too much, alright?"

"It's fine, love."

"I love you."

"And I love you."

"Kiss me again."

"But- mmph"

[otakubimbo]

Fake Love, Fake Rage

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!Reader

Contents: Yelling. Anger. Cussing. Mentions of fake dating. Angst. Mean Miguel. Miguel who can't talk about his feelings. Harassment. Unresolved argument.

You didn't think your life would turn out like this. What's the problem with a little white lie anyways? Miguel had a huge problem with that little lie.

Sticky Note: This is part 1 of 2, there will be a happy ending but let's get some angst in the meantime <3. Not proof read, if I missed any content warnings let me know. K. Thanks. Mwah.

Masterlist

Nothing could have prepared Miguel for the words that were going to come out of Jessica’s mouth that afternoon.

“So, you finally confessed to her, huh? About time.” Jessica says as she drops a stack of reports on his desk. He immediately looks up with an irritated confused grunt.

“What are you talking about?” He questions picking up the papers she just put down, turning his attention to that instead of her.

“You and Y/N are finally dating. It’s the word around the society.” She huffs, a smile painted on her face as Miguel's head snaps up and he stares at her wide-eyed.

“Que carajo? We are not dating. Who the hell is saying that?” He questions, eyes glowing red as his face heats up at the thought. Well yes, the two of you were close, as close as someone could be to Miguel, but dating? No, absolutely not. Of course, he’s thought about it. You had a genius that rivaled his own, you were beautiful, talented, competent, serious but funny. Miguel shook his head at the thoughts.

“Everyone’s saying that she said it. That’s why I thought you finally confessed your feelings for her.” Jessica shrugged casually, mildly amused at this.

“I do not have feelings for her.” He grumbles standing up from his desk to find you and ‘fix this’. Both Jessica and Lyla exchange looks at each other as he storms out of his own lab to yours, the one he personally built for you because he doesn’t have feelings for you. He absolutely has feelings for you.

As he makes his way to your lab, he can hear all the whispers of people about the two of you dating. Mostly people are shocked but can see it with the amount of time the two of you spend together and the things he does for you. There are some whispers about how you’re obviously too good for him and how he could ever convince you to date him with his personality. But he already knew that he already knew that you were too good for him. All of this just made him angrier as he neared your lab. You could feel him before you saw him, without the need for your spidey senses.

“Yes O’Hara?” You question, not even looking up from your task of working on a watch as Miles holds a light for you and Hobie is handing you tools. You, of course, could do these tasks by yourself but you enjoyed their company.

“Why the hell are you going around telling people we are dating?!” He barks at you; you still don’t lift your head from your work.

“Tone, O’Hara.” Is your response that makes his nostrils flair. He takes a deep breath; he knows your stubbornness will not allow you to communicate with him if he’s yelling at you. You made that very clear in the early stages of your ‘friendship’.  Miles looks back and forth between you and Miguel while Hobie looks amused as usual. You had already told Hobie the incident that brought upon Miguel being in your office right now and he told you Miguel would be pissed.

“Why are you lying to people saying we are dating?” He asked in a calmer tone which surprised Miles, he’s never heard him speak so calmly but of course, this was usually reserved for spaces when it was just the two of you.

“Ben Riley wouldn’t take no for an answer, so instead of making him lose his teeth I told him we were dating.” You say nonchalantly still not looking at him.

“So, are yall dating?” Miles quietly asks more to you than to Miguel.

“We are not. Now hold still so I can finish these modifications.” You respond shifting his hand back in place.

“You would be lucky mate to even fake date her. She is one of the most fit spider women around.” Hobie jokes which just makes you roll your eyes.

“Everyone out!” Miguel growls at Hobie and Miles, now you finally lift your head to scowl at him.

“This is MY lab, O’Hara. You can’t just command them out during the middle of my work.” You huff, eyes narrowed at him. You and Miguel glare at each other.

“Ooof” Hobie huffs as he stands up from the desk behind you, putting your tools back. “Let’s leave the lovers to quarrel alone, mate.”

Miles nervously puts your light down while Miguel glares at them as they leave the two of you alone. The two of them didn’t even get out of earshot before you started yelling at Miguel.

“You think we should of just left?” Miles asks, worried about you.

“Oi, yeah absolutely nothing worse than getting in-between a couple's fight.” Hobie says as he casually puts his hands in his pockets.

“But she said they weren’t dating.” Miles looks confused.

“Yet”

At this point, you were truly heated at what his problem was. He could simply just deny that you two were a couple, there was no need to storm into your lab when you were in the middle of working.

“Miguel, I’m seriously too busy to do this right now. If you want me to be able to go on any missions, I need to work on this.” You gesture at your exposed watch on your desk.

“You’re the one who’s going around telling everyone we are dating because you can’t just reject someone.” He snaps back, towering over you. You roll your eyes deciding to just ignore him and get back to your watch.

“I told you; he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and you’ve been clear about spider-on-spider violence.” You respond with a roll of your eyes, whispering how he’s a hypocrite for the whole Miles situation. Miguel aggressively rakes his fingers through his hair, eyes going a light red annoyed with your instance that you weren’t in the wrong.

“And now, I’ll be getting back to work.” You say now having to adjust your stuff since your help was told to get out.

“You do realize what people are saying right?!” He grunts as his hand slams on your workstation.

“If it’s really that bad for people to think we are dating then just simply tell everyone we aren’t. I really don’t care that much truthfully; I just said the first thing that came to mind.” You don’t even acknowledge his tantrum anymore, tools in hand going back to your watch.

“Seriously?” He asked, his tone is different than before, it sounded saddened? That makes you look up at him, and really look at him. His brows were furrowed, and his teeth were clenched but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t understand.

“What’s actually wrong, Mig?” Your voice was soft, gentle, the voice you only used when he was in one of his moods which seems like right now.  Your eyes gazed upon him in worry and concern for him. He hated that. He hated seeing everything fade from around you, that all he could see was you. Your lips pressed together, plump and soft, your eyes shining at him as if he was the only important thing right then, the nickname you gave him falling off your lips making his pulse pick up. He almost let himself get caught in that until the voices of the other spiders played in his head, what Hobbie said played in his head, he was no where close good enough for you, he would never be. You deserve something better than the monster that he is. He breathes out curses in Spanish as he grows more frustrated with everything, mainly himself.

“Mig, you know I haven’t taken those Spanish classes yet. What is going on?” You ask even more gently than the last time, you could tell it was more than you pretending to date him. There was something else, something he wasn’t telling you.  “Talk to me, you know you always can.” You say when you don’t get a response from him.

You reach out to touch him, like you always do when he gets too into his own head.  He pulls back quickly, scowling at you.

“Have you ever thought about keeping me out of your shocking business? This stupid fake dating shit. And of course, people believe it because you’re always forcing yourself around me. I don’t want to be in any of your stupid drama, for shocks sake. Leave me out of your shit. Have you ever thought that shit was annoying? Because it is, it’s annoying and pointless. You’re here to do your job and that’s shocking it. ”  He spits at you and your eyes go wide.

 He’s never spoken to you like this before. Yeah, he had a temper and could even get frustrated with you but you thought maybe it was different between the two of you. The conversations you’ve had, all the time you’ve spent with just the two of you. You thought you were at the very least friends.  You could feel your eyes starting to burn, but you refused to cry, especially in front of him.  You grab your deconstructed watch and all your things in grabbing distance.

“Fuck you, Miguel” you say as you shove your way past him. He fucked up, he knew he did so he let you walk off. Hoping you could calm down enough to let him speak to you again, but he didn’t know when that would be. He saw the tears starting to form in your eyes when you pushed past him, he heard the crack in your voice, but he said nothing to stop you. No apology, no explanation, nothing.

When you left your lab, you went directly to Spider Byte, your watch wasn’t working currently since you took it apart and you just wanted to go home. You hadn’t started crying yet but she could see something was wrong when you walked up to her.

“Hey Margo, my watch is kind of out of commission right now. Can you get me home?” You ask breathy, your chest tight in an effort to keep your composure.

“Of course, girl but are you good?” she asks, concern written all over her face. You wave her off dismissively.

“Yeah, I just got some stuff to take care of at home. I’m good. I’m good.” You say through your gritted teeth, hoping she would drop it and she does, going into start to bring up your home universe.

“So, you and Miguel?” She questions, an eye looking up at you hoping this wasn’t your problem.

You take in a deep breath, “There’s definitely no me and Miguel, absolutely not. That was just a lie I came up with to get Riley off my case ya know.” You respond trying to keep your voice steady and reassuring.

“Yeah, yeah I get ya.” She replies, dropping that topic also as she pulls up a portal to your universe. “Thanks, Margo, I’ll catch you later.” You say stepping into the portable before she could even reply. And that was the last time anyone had seen you.

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four Ao3

A/N: Part Two is here! Robin is finally coming in and giving us some new perspectives and answers, Steve accepts some things about himself, and Robin wants to invoke her best friend rights to protect Steve. Hope you enjoy!

Tw: internalized biphobia, implied/referenced abuse, implied/referenced suicidal thoughts

———

Robin grunts, hopping off her bike and ripping the helmet off her head. Three cars almost hit her today. Three! She groans.

“Stupid fucking bike—“ she kicks the back wheel, making it fall against the brick exterior wall of Family Video. She had to ride it to work today because someone—ahem, Steve—has decided to adopt half of the rising sophomore class, which means he’s off today since his favorite little nerd is off to Utah for the weekend. So now, she’s late for her shift and all gross and sweaty. Great.

Robin tucks her helmet under her arm, raking a hand through her hair in a weak attempt to fix it, and begins the short walk to the front doors when something catches her eye.

A burgundy BMW. Correction, Steve’s burgundy BMW.

She slows her steps and walks up to it, cautious as if it’ll attack her, and peeks inside. There’s nothing out of the ordinary save for a green duffle bag and an old beaten up shoebox. She frowns and looks towards the front doors as if the transparent surface will answer all of her questions.

She walks inside to find Steve. Steve, who is propped up on the counter with his eyes closed, head dipping down, and at work. The place he is decidedly not supposed to be right now.

“Dingus!” She shouts and slaps her hand on the counter, startling Steve awake. He reaches behind him, frowns when his hand comes up empty, and looks around with hazy eyes. There’s a distance behind those irises that she’s never seen before, like he’s not all there. As if he doesn’t know where he is.

Robin wasn’t concerned, but now she is.

“Steve?”

He finally looks up at her, sitting up straighter as if he didn’t know she was there, and puts on a smile she obviously knows is fake.

“Oh, hey, Robs,” he greets, his voice perfectly exemplifying that of model customer service personnel. Robin scrunches up her eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, shifting her weight and putting her hands on her hips. She stares at Steve expectantly, waiting for an explanation. He only blinks at her.

“Uh… working? I have a shift today, Robs, why wouldn’t I be here?” He answers, eyebrows furrowing and head tilting slightly. Robin has a fleeting thought that he looks like a confused puppy, then she realizes that’s not too far off. She meets his confused gaze with one of her own.

“Dustin leaves for his trip to Utah today, Steve. In like,“—she checks the clock behind him—“an hour. Shouldn’t you be there to, ya know, say goodbye and all that?”

She waits for realization to dawn on his face, for that wrinkle between his brows to disappear and panic to settle in. It doesn’t. If anything, he looks even more confused now.

“… What trip to Utah?” He asks hesitantly, like he doesn’t know. Does… does he not know?

“Are you messing with me right now? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, this isn’t funny,” she huffs a nervous laugh. He shakes his head.

Shit.

Steve, she realizes, hasn’t talked about the kids in… a while. A week at least. But he would have told her, right? He would have mentioned something, would have asked her what’s going on.

But then again… would he?

“Fuck,” she curses, and briskly walks over to the front door. She locks it, flips the sign to ‘Closed!’, and ignores Steve’s petulant protest of “Robbie, c’mon.” She drags Steve out from behind the counter and pulls him in an aisle of tapes before crossing her arms over her chest.

“The movie nights… Those weren’t migraine days, were they?” She asks, already half expecting the head shake she gets in response but it hurts all the same.

See, Steve gets debilitating migraines sometimes, so bad he stays in bed for days at a time. She had bought him blackout curtains a few months ago after he said the dark helped his head, and ever since then he’s taken it upon himself to get through them alone. She would ask if he needed help, tell him to call her so she could come over, but he never did. She just assumed that he didn’t show up because he couldn’t, not… whatever this is.

Robin grabs him by the shoulders, thumbs rubbing over his collarbones as she looks in his eyes.

“What happened?”

Steve sighs, face falling as he looks to the floor.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. His hand finds the hair tie on his wrist and he starts fiddling with it, snapping it against his skin and twisting it around his fingers. It makes Robin's heart clench. She shakes his shoulders to get him to look at her, and doesn't speak until he does.

“Steve, tell me what happened,” she insists, looking into his sad brown eyes that droop with the weight of her request. His shoulders rise beneath her hands as he takes in a deep breath. Then, he speaks.

“They haven’t talked to me in three weeks, Rob,” he confesses, eyes trained just over her shoulder to avoid eye contact. She knows he means the kids, and that makes this so, so much worse.

“Steve—“

“It’s okay,” he interrupts. His face slowly forms a small, wavering smile as he finally looks at her. “It means they’re growing up, expanding their horizons. Finding… finding better people to be around.”

Her stomach drops.

“Steve, what… what do you mean by that?” Her voice is shaky, filled with fear and the horrible dawning of what he's implying. Steve huffs and turns to look in the direction of the front windows, eyes distant.

“It’s good that they’re not talking to me. Why… Why should they?” He looks back at her, determination shining in his eyes. Robin realizes, with frightening clarity, that he’s confident in it. That he believes it. She swallows the forming lump in her throat.

“What do I do for them other than free rides or snacks? Nothing,” he laughs, a wet, hollow thing devoid of its usual happiness. “They haven’t asked me for anything in three weeks, Rob. Not once. Every time I ask they shut me down or… or tell me Eddie already offered. It’s… fuck, it hurts so bad but what else can I do but respect their decision to leave me?”

He rubs a hand harshly over his face, his skin turning pink from the pressure and force, before pushing his hair back. He looks away, murmuring, “it’s for the best, anyway” that Robin is sure she’s not supposed to hear but does anyhow.

She pushes him back, holding him out at arms length and ignoring the look she gets in return, and looks him up and down. His normally crisp polo is rumpled under his work vest and half tucked in his jeans. Dirt stains the once-white laces of his Nikes, and mud is caked on the side of his soles. His hands tremble at his sides before clenching into fists, as if trying to stop the shaking, before resigning to tap an unsteady rhythm against his thighs.

She looks up at his face, notices the tenseness in his jaw as it stays sealed shut. How his hair lays flat and greasy on his head as if he spends his days running his fingers through it. His eyes flicker around, as if unable to stay in one spot for too long. As if they’re looking for something. Watching. Waiting.

Most importantly, she notices a sadness in his eyes she’s never seen before. Not when he would talk about Nancy or his parents or his past. It shows in the lifelessness that’s found its way behind his pupils, in the flatness of his gaze. It shows in the deep bags under his eyes and the crease between his brows. That earlier thought about how he resembles a puppy returns, however instead of a confused puppy, it’s one that’s been kicked too many times to count and just wants someone to rub its little head.

It’s those sad eyes that make her realize that he’s used to this, to people leaving. All those times they spent together, curled against each other in the comfort of his big plush mattress after Starcourt and whispering secrets into the night, come back to her.

How he told her his parents left him with nannies and babysitters when they would go on trips until he was ten and his father decided he was old enough to fend for himself in their absence. How he had to call the police just so someone would tell him how to work the stove. How they missed his first birthday at thirteen, then Thanksgiving the following year, then his sixteenth birthday—which they tried making up for by buying him a car—then both Thanksgiving and Christmas the next year until it was a surprise they showed up for anything at all. How they missed his high school graduation.

How he cried through telling her he handed his heart to Nancy, giving her everything he could to make her happy, only for it to be left bleeding on the bathroom floor. How she cheated on him with Jonathan without giving an explanation for why or when or how, only a silent understanding of ‘yeah, I’m with him now. We’re over’ during the end of the world. How she never even said sorry.

It was one instance, when Robin woke up to Steve thrashing in his checkered sheets as his throat screamed out into the darkness of his room, that she’ll always remember. She had to sit on his chest to keep him from moving and accidentally hurting himself in the process. She did her best to stay clear of any still-sore wounds while holding his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks as she waited for him to calm down.

Eventually, those tired eyes opened, glistening with tears yet to be shed and Robin’s heart ached for him. She did her best to smile, to bring some comfort to his panicked mind.

“Hey, dingus, it’s me,” she soothed. “It’s Robin.”

“... Robin?” He muttered, voice fragile and raw from screaming. She nodded, even if he couldn’t quite see her yet.

“Yeah, that’s me. We’re in your room right now, in your bed,” she informed, and Robin could see the shame rising to his face in real time. “You had a nightmare.”

“Fuck, Robs, I’m so sorry,” Steve apologized, moving to try and get up but she shook her head, refusing to budge even an inch. Despite him being twice her size and having the ability to easily move her if needed, he relented and went slack underneath her, almost completely boneless save for the ever-present tenseness that never quite goes away.

“None of that, Steve,” she admonished. “Nightmares are normal, especially for us. You wanna tell me what happened?”

Steve looked away and shook his head. Robin nodded, accepting his refusal, and climbed off to flop down beside him, bouncing a little on the expensive mattress. She propped her head up on her hand, looking down at him as he fiddled with the edge of the sheet. Robin quickly learned that his fiddling meant he had something on his mind, so she nudged him and gave him an expectant look. He stayed quiet, and just when she thought he wasn’t going to speak, he did.

“You know, sometimes I think the world would be better off without me,” he murmured, and Robin looked at him absolutely horrified.

“Steve, you can’t actually believe that—“

“No, Robbie,” he interrupted and paused to shake his head as tears filled his eyes. “I do, ‘cause what am I good for other than nice eye candy for the elderly ladies at the local grocery store and a stand-up athlete for asshole dads to compare their sons to?”

Steve shook his head and clenched his eyes closed.

“No one stays. No one. It’s just been me for eighteen years and I… I’m sick of it, Robin. I’m just… I’m so tired.”

When he looked at her again, she could see it. That tiredness was etched onto his face, found in the creases around his eyes, the tenseness of his mouth, and the deep purple bags beneath his brown irises.

“I know,” Robin reassured, even though she didn’t. Not really. “We’ll get through it, okay?”

“‘We’?” Steve questioned, and Robin gave him a smile.

“Yeah, ‘we’. You’re never getting rid of me, dingus,” she claimed. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh no,” he said sarcastically, giving her a small grin that let her know he was grateful, either for the change in subject or the fact that Robin was there for him. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Guess we’ll have to find out, hm?” It was a silent question, one asking him, ‘will you stay around long enough to find out? Will I be enough for you until you do?’

Steve smiled and pulled her down to rest on his chest, both of their arms finding their way to wrap around each other.

“Guess we will,” he whispered into her hair, and it sounded a lot like, ‘for you, I will. For you, always.’

She never forgot that conversation, and the sad way his voice quivered has plagued her mind ever since then.

Now, the kids are joining the devastatingly long list of people that have left. The kids who he has quite literally sacrificed himself for time and time again. The kids he has given countless rides to, given his time and money and sanity to just to make them happy. The kids he cares for with his whole being. The kids he loves.

That lump returns, causing pressure to form behind her eyes as she looks at her best friend. Her platonic with a capital P soulmate. The only man she’ll ever love. Tears well in her eyes, clouding her vision and making her face contort. She’s always been an ugly crier but she thinks this is justified.

“Robs? What’s wr—”

She cuts him off by wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling him into a harsh hug. She knows he doesn’t like sudden touch—as proven by him stiffening under her—but she gives herself a pass on this one.

“Robin?”

She buries her face in his chest, silently crying for him, and only begins to calm down once hesitant arms wrap around her.

“Shh… Robbie, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He promises, and his earnest tone makes her almost cry harder because yeah, he’s there for her, but who is there for him?

She sniffs and pulls away, hands coming up to wipe away her snot and tears, and hopes he doesn’t mind the wet patch on the front of his shirt. Steve’s hands drop down to her waist, squeezing and rubbing her hips with his thumbs, as her hands raise to hold his face between them.

“We’re going to fix this, Steve. You don’t deserve all this—this shit that’s been thrown at you,” she vows, squeezing his cheeks to emphasize her point.

“It’s… It’s fine, Robs. You don’t have to do anything, it’s okay,” he tries to protest but it only furthers her determination. She shakes his head in her hands.

“If I have to throttle your head to make you realize that I love you then I will do it, dingus,” she promises, shaking his head again to prove her point. “Screw all your concussions.” She smiles at him, something small and filled with love for the man before him.

Steve breaks.

His face contorts much like Robins had earlier; eyebrows scrunched together, eyes clenched shut, nose wrinkling, and mouth a flat, wavering line. Ugly, heart-wrenching sobs claw their way out his throat, echoing off the metal shelves that surround them, and she knows that this was a long time coming. All of his sadness, his sorrow, is coming out through the tears that drip down his cheeks and onto the filthy carpet, the snot clogging his nose, and the small, breathy whimpers that pass through his lips.

His head drops to her shoulder, making his back arch forward in a way that cannot possibly be comfortable but he doesn’t seem to mind. She wraps her arms over his shoulders and his hands tighten their grip on her waist before resolving to squeezing her middle. Robin lets him cry it out, knowing firsthand that sometimes it’s all you need. Soon, his breaths get choppy and sporadic, so she begins rubbing her hands up and down his back in long, slow strokes in an attempt to ease the panic.

“Match your breathing to my hands, okay? Up for in and down for out,” she instructs, demonstrating by moving her hands up and down while breathing in with her movements.

“I-I don’t—“ his voice breaks.

“Yes, you can. C’mon, let's give it a try. Ready? In—" she moves her hands up. Steve struggles through a breath, only getting halfway before a sob rips through his throat and he’s forced to exhale.

“That’s good! Try again for me, babe, you can do it. Take it slow. Now, in—“ she rubs her hands up again and, this time, he follows through. “Good, good. Now out—“ her hands drop slowly down his back as he breathes out, shaky but it’s there.

“You got it! Let’s keep doing that, okay? Just focus on my hands, there you go,” she instructs, keeping her hands at a steady, calm pace. Steve does his best to follow, getting off track when a harsh sob cuts off his breathing, but he quickly calms down. He sniffs and pulls away, a mirror image of what she did just a few minutes earlier, and gives her a small but genuine smile.

“Thanks, Robin. I’m sorry you had to see that—“ Steve tries to apologize but Robin firmly shakes her head.

“Nope! None of that crap, okay? You’re allowed to cry, Steve, especially over something like this,” she insists. Steve wipes his face and, in all honesty, he looks like shit. But it's marginally better than what he looked like before so she’ll take it.

“Now, what kind of pizza do you want?”

“Wh… what?” Steve asks, confused. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Pizza! What kind of pizza do you want, Steve?”

“Robs, it’s like nine in the morning—“

“Not for right now, dingus!” She exclaims. Honestly, this guy. “For our movie night tonight!”

“But we didn’t have one set up for tonight… Right?”

“No, but I’m initiating one! We need some decompress time and a longer conversation than the one we just had about all this,” she informs. Steve rolls his eyes and smiles.

“You don’t have to, Robbie, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do—“

“Nothing is more important to me right now than comforting my best friend, Steve,” she insists, leaving no room for question. Steve holds his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, okay, just making sure,” he defends. A small smile graces his face. “And uh… can we get pepperoni?”

Robin softens and pats his cheeks.

“Absolutely.”

The rest of the shift was spent in comfortable silence. Steve seemed to be in a very non-talkative mood and she respected that. He mostly spaced out, staring out the front windows or at a random spot on the wall while mindlessly fidgeting with something. Robin took one for the team and helped all the customers, giving him some much needed space. After that morning, it felt cruel to subject him to customer service.

When their long, boring shift was over, Steve insisted she put her bike in his trunk. When she tried to protest that she could just bike over there, he rolled his eyes and gave her the bitchiest look possible.

“Robin, I love you, but I’m not waiting for half an hour while you and your giraffe legs hit every pothole on the way over to my house when I could just drive you.”

Needless to say that after ten minutes of two fully grown adults struggling to get her bike in the trunk after a long shift at work, they were exhausted. Well, Steve was exhausted since he did most of the grunt work while she complained about how long it was taking but it was a team effort, she thinks.

They pull into his drive, the house lit up on the inside from nearly every room despite it being empty. Robin knows it’s because he hates the dark, hates the feeling of being alone. She doesn’t comment on it. Never has.

She rushes to the phone once they get inside, dialing the pizza place from memory and recites their order. She hears Steve huff from the living room followed by a soft thump, presumably him flopping on the couch. Hanging up the phone, she shrugs off her shoes and work vest before standing next to him and bouncing on her feet.

“Can I help you?” He looks up at her expectantly, tired eyes finding hers but looking infinitely more at peace. She grins.

“Let’s make a pillow fort!” She exclaims, grabbing his hand and tugging him off the couch. Steve groans.

“C’mon, Robs, that’s totally not necessary,” he complains despite having a smile on his face. She tugs harder, pulling him towards the hall closet where the spare sheets and pillows are stored, and ignores him. Throwing open the door with her free hand, she turns to face him.

“Suck it up and help me carry these, dingus.”

She throws a stack of sheets at his face, snickering when they mess up his hair, and grabs a few pillows. Haul successful, she heads back to the living room, Steve giving her an over dramatic eye roll for the trouble.

“We can just sit on the couch, you know.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She questions before gesturing to the coffee table. “Now move that out of the way so we can get this thing started!”

Steve grumbles but does as he’s told. After a few minutes, they have a completed pillow fort. It’s a little wonky, just big enough for two people if they scrunch together, but it’s perfect. It’s angled directly at the TV, the seats of the chairs holding up the roof acting as personal trays for their drinks.

As soon as the last pillow is in place, the doorbell rings. Before Steve can move, Robin jumps up, rushing over to her vest and grabbing a ten out of the inside pocket. She ignores Steve's protests and opens the door, all but throwing the money at the delivery guy before grabbing the pizza and telling him to keep the change. Pizza acquired, she bounds back to the fort and flops down, placing the warm box between the two of them. In her absence, Steve has keyed up Pretty in Pink, their go-to feel-better movie.

Over the course of the movie, they eat their pizza while critiquing the characters and relationships, plot holes and bad acting, and make up their own responses to dialogue until both of them can barely breathe through their laughter. Steve returns to himself a little bit, somewhere around the first hour mark, and Robin feels accomplished that she got some of her friend back.

Once the movie is over and the pizza is gone, they lay in the dark under the protection of the fort. The blue screen from the TV reflects off the white sheets, turning their skin pale and glowing. Steve is on his back, one arm behind his head and the other resting lazily on his stomach. He looks soft, face lax and eyes a little droopy as if he’s already half asleep. Robin turns on her side to face him, one hand propping her head up while the other raises to carefully pick up Steve’s. He turns his head to look at her, and she knows he knows it’s time to talk. Really talk.

A beat of silence, then, “Why didn’t you tell me, Steve?”

He sighs and she can feel the movement under their joined hands on his stomach. He’s silent for a moment, and Robin watches as hesitation clouds his eyes.

“I thought it wasn’t important enough for you to know,” he murmurs. He’s not looking at her, instead focusing on running his fingers along hers. She stays quiet.

“I… I thought I deserved it, still do. There’s just so many feelings in here,“ he pauses to tap his heart with a sad smile, “and I don’t know what to do with them.”

“So tell me about them. What’s the biggest one right now?” Steve huffs.

“It… it sounds stupid but there's this intense misery all up here,” he gestures to his head, "paired right up there with this bitter… resentment,” a dry laugh falls from his lips and he shakes his head. “God, that sounds pathetic.”

Robin pinches his arm and diligently ignores his offended “ow!”.

“You’re not pathetic, dingus,” she corrects. She taps his heart. “Tell me about them.”

Steve sighs, eyes closing. He takes a deep breath.

“I… I have this—this sadness that just doesn’t go away. It’s like… like it knows when I’m happy and just sucks it all up.”

Robin nods and holds his hand, squeezes it to provide some comfort for him. She knows this isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. She hesitates on the next question.

“…How long have you felt like this?” Steve chews on his lip for a moment.

“As long as I can remember.”

Fuck.

Distantly, memories from a time after the Mall come flooding back.

‘Yeah,’ she thinks, remembering what he confessed that night. ‘Fuck indeed.’

“Even when I’m with people I love, it’s always there. It’s…” Steve pauses, furrows his eyebrows. “It’s like this… this dark cloud constantly floating above me that always looks like it’s going to rain, but you never know for sure if it will or not. I’m…”

Steve trails off, sucks in a harsh breath, and looks at her. His voice comes out just above a whisper, a weak thing that if she wasn’t right in front of him, Robin wouldn’t hear.

“I’m scared I’m not gonna feel happy again, Robs.”

That… That’s what brings Robin close to tears again. The quiet way he admits it, like he doesn’t want to say it too loud in fear the universe will make it come true, is enough for her eyes to sting.

“Steve…”

“I know,” he chuckles wetly, hand coming up to run through his hair as he looks away. “I know how it sounds, Robbie. Trust me, I do. If I could fix it, I would, but I don’t know how—“

“You don’t have to fix it, Steve,” she interrupts. “You’re not broken, this… this is just another part of you. One that you are just now letting yourself show. You don’t have to be the perfect, put-together, level-headed person all the time, and no one expects that of you.”

She pauses to look him properly in the eyes, trying to drive her point home. “You’re allowed to be sad, Steve. You’re allowed to feel, you know that, right?”

Steve looks at her, tears falling steadily down his cheeks as he shakes his head. He didn’t know. Robin feels her heart breaking for him, a deep pang in her chest as her soulmate cries in front of her. She wipes his tears away with her thumb, noting how his eyes flutter shut at the touch.

“Keep going,” she gently commands. She runs her hand through his hair, scratching a little at his scalp when he leans into it. He huffs, air fanning across her face.

“It’s really more of a frustration but I… I don’t understand why this keeps happening to me. Why the people I love keep fucking leaving me. I mean… I’m the common factor, right? So I’m the problem,” Steve ventures. “Always have been.”

The last part is added under his breath but Robin hears it. He’s always had a bit of a self-deprecating streak but this is something else. Something deeper, more real.

She gives a small tug at his hair to signal him to keep going.

“All I wanted was for my parents to be proud of me. I worked myself to death just trying to get an ounce of affection, of love, but it was useless. I was never good enough.”

A pause. He sniffs.

“Then Nancy came along and I thought, ‘yeah, I can love her and she can love me back,’” a small, fond smile graces his face, one he always gets when he talks about his past with Nancy. One that means he’s remembering the good times before everything went downhill. There’s no longing there, not anymore.

“I thought that I could finally show someone all these feelings kept inside of me and get some in return,” Steve quietly confesses, then pauses again. That fond look sours, and his mouth forms a stern line. “Guess that was bullshit, huh?”

He spits out ‘bullshit’ like it's laced with poison, followed by a hollow laugh. He closes his eyes, takes a breath, and keeps going.

“I thought she was it for me but she… She wanted Jonathan. She wanted someone better, and who am I to blame her for that? I’d want someone better if I was her, too.”

“You did everything right with the situation you were given, Steve. It’s perfectly okay to want some normalcy after what you saw, what you went through. You and Nancy just don’t deal with trauma the same way, and that’s okay too,” Robin reassures. She lets some bitterness seep into her voice, because yes, she is mad at Nancy on Steve’s behalf. “What’s not okay is the fact that she cheated on you, and you’re allowed to be hurt by that.”

He pats her hand, a silent understanding. She nods. “Keep going.”

“After that, I tried to become a better person. A better influence for the kids to be around. I wanted to be someone they could go to, a figure they could always trust and lean on for anything. Someone I wish I had as a kid,” there’s a sadness in his voice as he says that, a tone he always gets when he talks about his childhood. Robin taps her fingers against his scalp to get him to look at her. She smiles at him, and he gives a small one in return. He keeps talking.

“They need to feel safe in this shitty town that decides losers and freaks should be shunned, that they’re bad for being a little different,” his voice is filled with anger as he grinds the words out, words she has a suspicion are directed at the people who pay the bills for the very house they’re laying in.

“But none of it ever mattered because they found someone else to do that for them, to be that for them.” Robin gives him a confused look.

“Who?”

“Eddie,” Steve reveals, face forming a small smile as the name slips through his lips. He looks… fond, in a sad way.

It only confuses Robin further.

“I don’t blame him for any of this, by the way,” he clarifies. “I doubt he even realizes it. And they… They’re just kids, I can’t blame them for choosing the better option.

“Eddie shares their interests in their little nerd game, something I can’t even begin to comprehend. He’s funny and charming and outgoing, and he's so, so good with the kids,” he smiles once he rambles about Eddie, a small thing that Robin realizes is similar to the one he wears when he talks about his past with Nancy. Except this one… this one is bigger. Better. Real.

As if realizing he’s rambling, his face loses that bit of brightness as he looks away.

“I’m mostly just angry at myself,” he admits. “I just want my family back. Even though they’ve made it very clear they don’t want me in return… I still want them.”

He looks up at her then, face contorted with resentment she can tell is only directed towards himself. “Isn’t that fucked up? Isn’t that just perfectly fucking tragic?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one she doesn’t need to answer. She can’t say anything to help, anyway. Steve wipes a hand harshly over his eyes, irritating the skin and making it red. He lets out an emotionless huff, sniffing a bit through his nose. He looks… exhausted.

“Steve,” she whispers. He looks at her, and she finally asks one of the questions that’s been bugging her since this morning. “When was the last time you slept?”

He stares at her blankly, eyes darting around as if he's visualizing the math he’s doing in his head. All of the fanfare tells her he’s not sure when, and her suspicion is confirmed when he shrugs.

“I uh… don’t really remember. The days kinda all blend together, ya know?”

She nods. She does know, the days after their run-ins with the Upside Down always seem to pass by in a blur. The doctors say it’s something to do with trauma, the brain needing time to fully process everything that happened and causing the time to slip by. This time there is no Upside Down, no mortal peril or end of the world, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less important.

She’s realized a lapse in post-nightmare phone calls from Steve recently, but just figured it was because he was getting better. They usually dwindle down to two or three a week after a few months, something they’ve all found to be relatively normal after what they went through. She never considered that it was because he wasn’t sleeping at all.

“That um… well, that kinda leads me to my next point. Uh…” Steve huffs, running a hand through his hair—something she knows he does with he’s nervous. She waits.

“I’ve not been sleeping because I’m not exactly… at home… every night.”

What?

“What?” Robin questions, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. An idea comes to her head, and she smirks internally.

“Where the hell are you going then? Are you,” she gasps, hand clutching mock pearls around her neck, "fulfilling your title as the resident man whore of Hawkins? Hooking up with the female population while living under my roof?” She waves her finger at him, giving him an overdramatic grumpy face and shaking her head in fake disappointment. “How dare you, young man!”

Steve laughs at her declaration, face a little pink from the accusation, and shakes his head.

“No, Robbie, I’m not ‘hooking up’ or whatever,” he rolls his eyes, as if finding the claim absolutely absurd. Even if it’s already half true.

“Actually, I’ve been uh… patrolling. Hawkins. Um, at night and stuff…”

Robin blinks.

“What does,” she pauses and makes sure to physically add quotation marks with her fingers, “‘and stuff’ mean exactly?”

“It means that I’m trying to be proactive, okay? Every time the Upside Down has come for us, we’ve been unprepared. Surprised. If I can prevent that from happening, give everyone a bit of a heads up, then it’ll be worth it,” he explains. “I know El–Jane? Whatever–said she closed it but we’ve thought that before and it’s come back so… better safe than sorry.”

Steve flops his head back on the pillow behind him, staring up at the sheet ceiling rather than at her. Robin doesn’t mind, as long as it gets him to talk. Kinda gross she can see his nose hairs now, though. He sighs.

“I’ve been going out at night with my bat and checking all the gates, all the spots they’ve come through before, to make sure they’re gone. Every night. Sometimes I don’t finish until early morning, sometimes it’s only a couple hours but… yeah,” he finishes ineloquently.

So, he’s a dumbass. His intentions are good, don’t get her wrong, but the execution… is not the greatest. No wonder he’s exhausted. Speaking of—

“Wait, so when do you actually sleep?”

“Only when I can’t physically stand to be awake anymore. My body kinda… shuts down,” Steve says, like it’s nothing. Like that’s not the most depressing thing she’s ever heard. Like it’s not entirely unhealthy. He huffs a laugh.

“The first time it happened, it scared the shit outta me. Thought I was dying. Turns out you’re not supposed to be awake for like… four days straight,” he recalls, face light like he’s talking about a fond memory instead of passing out from exhaustion. “On the bright side, I don’t have as many nightmares now. Don’t think my brain can keep up with all that.”

His version of a ‘bright side’ is decidedly equivalent to the darkest depths of the Mariana Trench because what the actual fuck—

“Steve…” she trails off, voice wobbly with fear for her best friend. She begs to know why he’s doing this, why he’s risking his life and sanity again, why he always seems to play the self-sacrificial card even when it’s not necessary. Even when no one asks him to. “Why?”

She expects him to crumble again, to fall apart at the realization that he’s tearing himself apart on his own volition. She expects him to cry out apologies, to scream and rant and hit things just to let all his emotions out. She expects her platonic soulmate, who carries the weight of too-heavy emotions on his shoulders and in his heart, to show his cards and let it all out.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he closes his eyes. He, at this moment, looks peaceful. Content. Like his world isn’t crumbling down around him. Like he—

Like he’s accepted it.

Accepted the anger and hate and rejection from the people he loves. Accepted the endless nights of walking and hunting and searching just in case. Accepted keeping all of this—his thoughts, his emotions, his vulnerability, his love—to himself.

Accepted that his love will never be returned, so why even try to live for it anymore?

The last shards of her heart shatter completely.

“Even though they don’t want me anymore, I have to keep them safe. It’s my job. It’s what I’m meant—what I’m expected to do,” he insists. His voice is an even, calm tone. No waver, no hesitation. “I’m so scared that it’ll come back and I’ll—we’ll be too late.”

She doesn’t miss his corrections, but doesn’t point them out either.

“You know it’s not all up to you, right? There’s other people—me for one, Joyce and Hop, Wayne and Eddie, Nancy and Jonathan, and… fuck it, probably that Murray guy too—that are willing to help. That can help,” she suggests gently. “You don’t have to fight all your battles alone, ya know. Sometimes you need a little help, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Steve has his eyes open now and is looking at her. Not in a sad way, or ashamed or angry or anything of the sort. He’s just… looking. Looking just to look.

“I… I think somewhere deep down I know that, that you’re all here, but it’s just so hard to accept. It’s hard to believe it, Robs,” he confesses. “I’m sorry.”

Robin smiles at him, a soft thing that feels like melted butter on pancakes or a warm summer morning. She pats his cheek a couple times.

“Stop saying sorry, dingus, or I really will follow through with that promise of throttling you into another concussion.”

Steve laughs, short and sweet as if it took him by surprise, and shakes his head a little.

“Sorry, it’s just a habit.”

“You just said it again!”

“Fuck, sorry—"

“Steve!“

“Sorry—“

“Steve!“

“Sor—“ Robin cuts him off by pinching his lips together with her fingers, making him look like a deformed baby duckling. The imagery has her snorting and Steve follows soon after, only laughing because she is, until they’re both clutching their sides and gasping for breath.

He looks younger like this, when he’s laughing. Like the Upside Down never happened. Like his father never happened. Like he’s just a kid.

She has the striking realization that he is just a kid. He’s only nineteen, barely even a legal adult, yet he’s seen enough shit for a lifetime. Really, he’s been an adult for far longer than two years, far longer than anyone should have been at his age. He barely had time to just be a kid but now, here, when he’s laughing with her, so carefree and innocent… she thinks he might finally be letting himself feel like one again.

To think that earlier in the day, she was mad at his dumb ass for not driving her to work. Funny how a few hours can change someone’s whole perspective, huh?

Speaking of…

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s with the duffle and box in your car?”

Steve’s face falls, and that light he held from earlier has all but vanished. He huffs a small laugh.

“I don’t even know why that’s still in there, to be honest with you,” he confesses. Clear that he isn’t going to continue, Robin nudges him with her hand. He sighs.

“Sometimes when I go out at night, I don’t really uh… remember everything,” he starts. “I kinda zone out a bit? Like my head isn’t screwed all the way to my body and the connection’s all wonky.”

“Babe, it sounds like you’re dissociating,” she offers. At his confused face, she elaborates. “It’s when you kinda disconnect from yourself, and a lot of times you can’t really remember what happens.”

He nods. “So I guess I do,” he gestures to her, “that sometimes. Or, well—every time, really…” he trails off, then flicks his eyes to meet hers.

“One night, I just… I guess I needed to get out. Out of the house, out of Hawkins, who knows,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I grabbed everything I needed—or thought I needed, I guess, and shoved them in my car. I don’t remember how I got there, only that I came back in my head at the edge of town with my car pulled off on the side of the road just in front of the ‘Leaving Hawkins’ sign.

“I just sat there in my car and thought that I could just… keep going. Kept thinking that I could just follow the road, see where it takes me. Go around the curve and disappear into the trees. Leave everyone behind. Not like they’d care, anyway.”

“Hey,” she smacks his arm. “I would care, dingus. I don’t know what I’d do if you just disappeared on me.”

She doesn’t like thinking about it, about the fact that he could leave. Part of her knows it would be good for him to get out of town, to not let it hold him back from doing whatever he wanted with his life. Another part of her—the more selfish part—wants him to stay. Wants him to be with her for everything. Wants him to be there when she gets her first girlfriend, when she gets married, when she has kids. Wants him to be her other half for the rest of their lives.

The thought of him just disappearing, though… that’s one she hasn’t even considered being an option. He’s a constant in her life, always there when she needs him, and sometimes even when she doesn’t. He’s her rock, just like she’s his. Life without him… it’s something she can’t really comprehend.

“I know you would, Robs,” he begins, voice as soft as the smile on his face. “You’re one of the reasons I turned the car around that night.”

Fuck, she’s gonna cry.

“Jesus, how can you just say stuff like that?” She sniffles, not really crying but her eyes are definitely stinging. “Fuck, that’s like… the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Steve laughs and reaches up to ruffle her hair. “Don’t take it too seriously, you’re only one of the reasons.”

“I still count though!”

“Yeah, Robbie, you still count.”

Robin collects herself before flopping on Steve’s chest, right ear next to his heart. She likes listening to it, to the deep thu-thump that proves he’s alive. It always seems to calm her down.

One of Steve’s hands comes up to play with her hair and she smiles. She traces little shapes on his chest while she tries to figure out how to ask her next question. However, her thinking face must be obvious because Steve tugs her hair a little and dramatically sighs.

“Just spit it out, Robs.”

“I’m getting there! Just…” she hesitates. “What’s in the shoebox? Like… your favorite pair of shoes or something?”

She couldn’t fathom why in the hell he would bring shoes of all things with him out of town, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings if that was the case. But, judging by the incredulous look on his face, shoes are definitely not an essential item for his escape.

“Have I… never shown you the shoebox?”

“Um…” she pauses. “No? I’m pretty sure I would remember that, Steve.”

“Huh,” he huffs. “Thought I did… ”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“Back to the point.”

“Right, yeah,” he takes a breath. “It’s everything the kids have ever given me. Polaroids, notes, letters, stickers, trinkets. You name it, it's probably in there. Pretty sure there's some arcade coins somewhere in there too.”

“Aw, Steve,” she starts. “That’s so sweet.”

Steve smiles a little, then—for some weird reason—blushes.

“That’s not.. all that’s in the box,” he begins. “There’s stuff from you, obviously, like our friendship bracelets and your little notes reminding me to eat or sleep or shower. Plus tons of pictures from your disposable camera you had a while back—“

“Wait, you kept those?” She interrupts. He nods. “Huh… I thought you just threw them all away.”

“Why the hell would I do that? They’re from you, Robs, I would never throw them away.”

“I mean, some of them were really bad. Like… I’m pretty sure they were all blurry in some way and I’m almost positive there’s a picture of just my thumb in there.”

Steve smiles. “There is. It’s my favorite one.”

She hits him. “Yeah, yeah, asshole.”

“No really, it is! You wanna know why?”

“Sure, why?”

“Cause in the bottom right corner you can see your smile. You were trying to take a picture of yourself, I think, but your thumb got in the way of the lens,” he grins and looks down at her. “Sometimes I take it out when I’m feeling sad just to remind myself what your smile looks like.”

God fucking damnit there he goes again.

“You know, I think you’re just trying to make me cry at this point,” she starts. Steve rolls his eyes at her.

“Just being honest, Robbie.”

“I know, shithead, that’s what’s making me cry,” she rubs her eyes, willing the stinging to go away. “What else is in there?”

“There’s still stuff from Nancy, I think. There’s one of her flashcards, a ticket stub from our first date to the movies, and there's a ribbon in there that I’m pretty sure she used to wear in her hair. But… I don’t look at them nearly as much as I do yours or… or Eddie’s.”

“Eddie’s?” She questions, because what the fuck?

“Mhm… you know how he likes giving out little trinkets to people?”

She nods. She does know, her dresser is full of them; shiny soda tabs hooked together in a little chain, bouncy balls from the little restaurant machines, and rocks that Eddie claimed were “so cool, Birdie, just look!”. There’s a little sailor figurine that’s her current favorite, given to her by Eddie shortly after her and Steve recounted their Scoops experience.

“Well, they’re all in that box. Every last one of them. All the bottle caps, buttons, D&D figurines, drawings, notes, everything,” a smile finds its way to his face, a small thing she isn’t sure he knows he’s doing. “I almost need another box just for everything he’s given me.”

“But…” she begins, hesitating. “Why put them in a box?”

“In case they come home,” Steve answers, plain and simple. She knows he’s talking about his parents, about how if they found even one little weakness of his, he’s done for.

She remembers one morning in the winter when she had woken up in Steve’s bed to the sound of distant yelling. The spot Steve normally would have been in was cold, and when she sat up she could tell that the voice was one she didn’t recognize.

She shrugged on one of Steve’s sweatshirts to fight the chill, the fabric draping her frame as she snuck down the hallway. Robin froze when she heard a sharp ‘smack’, followed by a thud. Her stomach sank and she couldn’t move. It was like her brain had disconnected from her body, leaving her limbs rooted to the spot until it came back online. The voice was still yelling, but Robin was too out of it to make sense of it in her head.

Only when she heard the slam of the front door and an engine start up did she begin to move. Thundering down the stairs, she ran down the hallway and froze at the entrance to the kitchen.

Steve was sitting on the floor, knees pressed up against his chest with his arms draped loosely over them as a bright pink whelp formed on his cheek. He was still in his pajamas and his hair was draped messily over his face, half of it pushed back as if he attempted to make it look presentable.

Robin took in a shaky breath.

“Steve…”

At the sound of her voice, Steve’s head shot up and his eyes blew wide. He immediately covered the red mark with his hand as he got to his feet.

“Robs, this isn’t what it looks like,” he stated, but Robin could tell by the waver in his voice that yes, it was.

She took a slow step towards him, holding her arms out as if he was a wild rabbit she was trying to catch and he was at risk of running away any minute. By the tense line of his shoulders and the way his eyes were flitting over her face and around the room, he was very much prepared to do just that.

“I know,” she tried to reassure, and after another step closer she could tell it was working. She stopped moving and just held out her arms, waiting. Steve collapsed into them not a moment later, chest hitching with cut-off breaths as his mind panicked. She rubbed soothing hands up and down his back.

After he had calmed down some, and his breathing was closer to normal, she broke the silence.

“Who did this, Steve?”

He gripped the back of her sweatshirt in his hands so tight, she feared he would rip the fabric. His voice came out quiet, as if saying it out loud would change everything. In a way, maybe it did.

“My… my dad,” he confessed. “I-It’s not bad, though. I knew he was in a bad mood but I pushed it anyways and he—"

“Woah, woah, slow down before you launch yourself into another panic attack,” Robin interrupted. “Steve, is this the first time it’s happened?”

“Him yelling at me? No, that’s kinda all he—“

“No, Steve,” she cut him off. “Is that the first time he’s hit you?”

Silence. Then, a small shake of his head.

Robin clenched her eyes closed as they began to sting and wondered just how long he’s been going through this, then wondered if he was doing so alone.

“Steve… does anyone know?” Robin asked, and Steve only shook his head again.

“I think Hop suspected something when I was younger, he used to come around a lot after they would come home and leave, but… he stopped coming around when I got older. Guess he thought I outgrew it,” Steve explained, and Robin’s heart ached for him.

“How long?”

“… as long as I can remember,” came his shaky whisper, and Robin only squeezed him tighter in response.

“You don’t deserve this, Steve,” she insisted. Steve immediately began to shake his head.

“No, I… I do, Robin, I was asking for it this time. He was just doing what he needed to in order to get his point across. It was my fault for trying to talk back,” Steve defended. Robin furrowed her eyebrows.

“Steve, what was he yelling about?”

“That’s… that’s not important—“

“Just answer the question, dingus,” she insisted. Steve sighed.

“He was mad that I didn’t decorate for the holidays, said that we had a reputation in this neighborhood and I was ruining it. He said he expected me to do better or else next year, I wouldn’t even have a house to decorate.”

“Steve… you realize that’s wrong , right?” She asked, but Steve just looked at her blankly.

“No, it’s a pretty simple concept. I knew I needed to decorate but between the gatherings and parties and taking the kids shopping, I didn’t have time. I should’ve made time, but I didn’t and that’s on me,” Steve explained, and Robin wanted to throttle him.

“Steve, you shouldn’t be expected to do any of that. If your parents wanted the house decorated that badly they should have called someone to come and do it or—god forbid—actually do it themselves,” she countered.

“But-“

“No ‘but’s, Steve. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it until you believe me; you don’t deserve this,” Robin stated. “Can you repeat that for me?”

“I… I don’t deserve this,” Steve muttered hesitantly.

“Good, again.”

“I don’t deserve this,” he repeated, more confident but not as strong as she’d like.

“One more time.”

“I don’t… holy shit, I don’t deserve this, Robbie,” he finished with a whisper as the words registered in his mind, taking root in the folds of his brain.

“Damn right you don’t,” she pulled back to grab his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “We’re going to get through this.”

Steve nodded. “We’re going to get through this.”

They smiled at each other, and Robin knew that they both meant it.

“… Robin?”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“I… I love you.”

“I love you too, dingus.”

After that night, Robin had made it her mission to get Steve out of the house as much as possible when his parents were home, even going as far as keeping him at her house for a whole weekend when they stopped by unexpectedly. But that fear never quite goes away, and some small part of him, she thinks, will always be afraid of his father.

“I can’t let them take away the last little things that make me happy. I just… I don’t think I could survive that, Robs.”

“I know.”

They sit in silence for a moment, and Robin thinks he’s done talking until she sees him bite his lip—another sign he’s thinking about saying something.

“Then there’s the box," he starts. She blinks.

“There’s another box?” She questions. Jesus, how many could he need?

“Not a physical box, no, but one in here,” he taps his head. “It’s where I put all the things in my mind that's too big to think about by myself.”

“What’s in this box?” He smiles a fond little smile.

“Eddie.”

Um… the fuck?

“Eddie?” She asks, because she must have misheard him, right?

But Steve just nods his head, his smile growing. “Eddie.”

“Okay… what about him?”

“I… okay, I need to preface this by saying that uh… I think I like boys, too,” he confesses, voice quiet as if he’s waiting for some kind of retribution for his words. Robin, on the other hand, is in the middle of a spontaneous cardiac event because what the everloving fuck?

“What?!” She screeches, sitting up suddenly and causing Steve’s hand to fall from its place in her hair. He winces due to their close proximity. “Wait, wait, wait… you mean to tell me that you, Steve Harrington, are into guys?”

Steve shrinks back on himself a little at her disbelieving tone, face closing off, and she can see in real time the mask quickly sliding into place. Immediately, she backtracks.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” She rushes out, face flushing. “Obviously, it’s okay for you to like guys, I mean it would be totally hypocritical of me to say you can’t. Not that I have any say in who you can or can’t like anyway! I mean, you’re your own person after all, it’s just… very unexpected and I—"

"Robin," Steve interrupts. "You're rambling again."

"Oh," she breathes out and snaps her jaw shut, giving him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, uh… keep going."

“Well, it’s um… It’s not really that unexpected on my end,” Steve reveals, and Robin’s mind blows a little bit further. “When I was younger, I never really understood why being gay was frowned upon by some people because I just… I felt that way about guys sometimes too.”

And that was… what?

“Tommy was the first guy who really stood out in my head. We became friends in grade school and he just… he was always there. I remember looking at him sometimes and wanting to count his freckles or hold hands when we walked. I never did, of course, ‘cause he made his opinions about queer people very clear.

“Outside of the whole asshole thing, he was actually pretty nice. Well, when he wanted to be, anyway,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Steve glances at her and looks away, cheeks flushing a little.

“Then it was uh… Billy Hargrove.”

Now that… that threw her for a fucking loop.

“Hold up, Billy?!” She shrieks. “Like… the same Billy that broke a plate over your head? Who beat you unconscious and left you with a concussion?”

Steve nods, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Robin groans, burying her face in his chest. Of course he’s going to have the worst possible taste in men.

“Okay, it was before he beat me unconscious, but still! I didn’t like Billy as a person, obviously, just appreciated his general… you know… sex appeal,” he clarifies. She groans again.

“Hey, he was hot!” He defends. He runs a hand over his face before continuing. “I didn’t want to date him or anything, but the fact that I was interested in him at all was terrifying at the time. I didn’t know what it meant, so I pushed it all to the back of my mind and locked it away.”

“Hence the box,” she confirms. He nods. There’s silence, and when Steve doesn’t continue, she prompts him.

“Then there’s Eddie.” He smiles and nods.

“Then there’s Eddie,” he repeats. His face lights back up just at the mere mention of him, and Robin can’t help but to smile as well.

“Tell me about him,” she asks, and immediately knows that’s the wrong move because if it’s one thing Steve picked up on during their friendship so far, it’s Robin’s tendency to ramble.

“Looking back on it, I think I had a crush on him in school, too. The way he would attract the attention of everyone in the room just by his presence alone was almost breathtaking, and I found myself looking over at his lunch table more times than I could count,” he admits. A blush has found its way to his cheeks, settling high on his cheekbones.

“The way he would spout nonsense about society and expectations made me realize that we were similar in that way, having a need to be different from everyone else, to get away from the normalcy of it all. I was unable to look away, to focus on anything else because he was always there and my mind was very, very weak.

“And it was fine in school, because I knew nothing would ever come from it ‘cause he made it clear he hated rich, popular jocks and… well, I fit into that category pretty well. There was no way he would ever like me, so after I graduated that infatuation kinda fizzled out.

“Then, the kids started talking about Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, and I knew that it had to be the same one because no other nerd would be willing to run a D&D club in Hawkins of all places,” he huffs a little laugh, more of a push of air through his nose, but the smile on his face is as gooey as freshly baked brownies.

“When I started picking the kids up, I’d see him across the parking lot and that infatuation came rushing back. The way he’d run out of the double doors with a flourish grand enough to rival a king yet immediately trip on the lip of the concrete was so endearing that it would never fail to make me laugh.

“Then I got to actually know him, and I think that’s when I knew,” Steve finishes, and Robin can’t hold back a grin. One thing that will never get old is hearing Steve talk about the people he cares about. Hear him talk about all the little things he notices, the little quirks and intricacies of those around him. It’s just… it’s nice to know that someone sees.

“So, what else do you like about him?” She asks, and the dopey grin that blooms on his face is enough to make her wonder if sometime during this conversation, he managed to get high without her noticing.

“He’s so sweet, Robbie! He gets all shy when you compliment him and does that thing where he hides behind his hair but it does absolutely nothing to hide his face,” he begins, hands gesturing as he talks. “Speaking of his hair, it looks so soft. I just wanna run my fingers through it and fluff it up.”

Steve groans, covering his face with his hands. It takes all of Robin's willpower not to outright cackle at how gone her best friend is. He rakes his hands down his face, stretching his skin as he fixes his eyes on the sheet ceiling above them.

“God, he’s so hot, Robs. Seriously, I think I’m going to spontaneously combust every time I see him. The whole rocker persona really does it for me.”

“I mean… it kinda sounds like you have a type.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Steve grumbles, squinting his eyes at her.

“No, I’m serious! Hot, curly hair, deceptively smart with a firecracker attitude… I mean Nancy and Eddie are practically the same person,” she ventures.

“I guess you’re right. Billy was just a physical attraction, though. Dick didn’t have any real personality to appeal to,” he mutters the end of that sentence, but she snorts anyway. Then, his eyes blow wide. “Wait, is that considered speaking ill of the dead, or whatever?”

Robin shrugs. “He deserves it.”

“Yeah, he kinda does… still miss that ass, though—ow!”

Robin cuts him off by smacking his chest, hard. “Ew, gross! I totally did not need to visualize that oh my god.”

Steve snickers underneath her, giggles bubbling out his throat. She only rolls her eyes at him before smacking him again.

“You got off track again, dingus,” Robin reminds him and he sends a sheepish smile her way. “What else about Eddie?”

“He…” Steve pauses, and his lips quirk upwards. “He always looks so soft, underneath all the denim and leather. Like… he gets this look on his face sometimes, like he’s feeling all the love in the world, and I find myself wanting to be the reason that look is there. I wanna see him early in the morning when he hasn’t had his coffee yet and he’s all sleep rumpled and soft and domestic and I wanna wake up to him like that everyday, Robs.

“I wanna watch him grumble and talk to himself and fuss over breakfast. I wanna take the kids places with him and lean against his side while we watch the gremlins run around. I wanna look into his eyes in the morning sunlight and watch how they shine amber up close.

“I wanna trace his dimples with my finger, then his lips, and his jawline, and his neck, too. I wanna cuddle with him after a long shift at work and lean against him as he practices guitar and watch movies while holding hands in the dark and kiss him. Fuck, I wanna kiss him so bad. I wanna kiss him until our breath runs out and then some, ‘cause I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him.”

Steve looks… Well, there's only one word for it. He looks like he’s in love. His eyes have gone soft, staring off as if he’s visualizing Eddie in front of him. His face is relaxed, a smile she now recognizes as his ‘Eddie smile’ grows.

It falls a little bit as the silence stretches, and he looks down at his hand laying idly on his chest. He starts fiddling with the fabric there, running his thumb along a fold.

“I tried to get closer to him after he got out of the hospital, and it worked for a little while. We would hang out here most of the time, watching movies or talking under the stars outside, but… I could tell he was holding me at arms length. Like he couldn’t accept that I was different. That I wanted to be there.”

He looks at her, smile turning a little sad.

“Then he stopped initiating hangouts and every time I offered, he would say no or claim he had something to do before rushing off. So I just took it as it was and stopped trying,” he sighs.

Robin thinks back to every interaction she’s seen between the two of them, how Eddie was always quick to leave and never lingered like he used to. How he almost seemed… nervous around Steve. Hesitant.

That fucking dumbass.

She starts to get up, only pausing her efforts to untangle their limbs.

“What—where are you going?” She huffs.

“To the trailer park,” she starts. Limbs finally free, she sits back on her knees and crosses her arms. “I’m going to knock some sense into that damn metalhead and probably kill him for hurting my best friend.”

Steve snorts and drags her back down on top of him.

“It’s okay, Robs, you don’t have to do anything. Promise me you won’t hurt him?”

“Ugh, fine. I promise or whatever,” she reluctantly agrees, and lays her head back down on his chest.

A beat of silence, then—

“Can I at least punch him a little?”

A pause.

“Okay, I’ll let you get away with that,” Steve amends. “But only light punching. I know you know how to throw a mean right hook and if I see Eddie with even a single bruise on his pretty face I think I’ll go into mourning.”

Robin giggles at his statement, and Steve just rolls his eyes at her before letting out a giggle of his own.

“I’m serious!” He tries to be stern, but the giddy smile on his face is a far cry from the nature of his words.

“I know, I know,” Robin says, holding back another wave of giggles. “Man, you’re really gone on him, aren’t you?”

Steve nods sadly.

“I want to tell him that I like him, Robs, but I can’t,” he confesses. “It’s.. it’s breaking me inside, to have all these feelings for someone and know you can never do anything about it.”

“Steve…”

“It’s terrifying just thinking about telling him because what if? What if he thinks I’m just fucking with him and shuts me out completely? What if he’s a homophobe or thinks that I just wanna use him as an experiment or something? Cause I don’t, not like that.”

“Steve,” she tries to interject, knowing that he’s working himself up. He ignores her.

“But as much as I hate holding all this… all this shit inside, it's still better than telling him. I don’t…I don’t think I could handle it if he rejected me,” he finishes. The ‘I don’t think I could survive it’ goes unsaid, but not unheard.

He finally looks at her, and she notes the sad acceptance in his eyes. His face threatens to crumble, as does hers, but they hold it together.

“Robbie, am I crazy for feeling like this?” He asks, voice a near whisper. “For falling for someone who hates me?”

She smiles sadly, placing a hand on his cheek and causing a tear to fall from his eye. She wipes it away with her thumb.

“You’re not crazy, Steve,” she reassures. “I know how it feels, how scary it is to like someone like that. It sucks, but it’ll only get better if you talk about it.”

He smiles a little. “I do feel a little better now, actually.”

“See? Talking helps, and I’m always here to listen,” she insists. She lays her head back down on his chest, not taking her hand away from his face, and slowly wipes away the stray tears that fall from his eyes. She vaguely registers that her thumb is acting as a mini windshield wiper for his face. The thought makes her smile.

Steve takes a deep breath, the movement causing her head to raise with it, and she knows there’s something else on his mind. She waits.

“Is…” he whispers, hesitating. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just… I like boys, but I like girls too. That part hasn’t changed for me but… can I do that? Like, is that…” he trails off. “Is that allowed?”

“Yeah, Steve, that’s allowed. You can like whoever you want to, it doesn’t change who you are,” she reassures. Steve lets out a breath, like he was holding it in lieu of her answer.

“But… What am I then? I mean… I can’t be half gay and half straight, right?” He asks.

At that, Robin thinks back to a few zines she got on her and Steve’s first trip to Indy. She had been wanting to go ever since she came out to Steve on the grimy bathroom floor high on drugs, when he had accepted her with no questions asked. She had always heard things about Indianapolis, about how it was so much different than the little town of Hawkins. How there were so many more people, so many different types of people, and she just had to see it for herself.

A couple months after Starcourt, when school was just beginning to take off, Robin had asked if they could go on a day trip somewhere, just to get out before they were stuck there for the winter months and holidays. Steve had agreed, of course, and they piled in his fancy car and made short work of the two-hour trip to the city.

It was bigger than they expected, people milling about the streets and tall buildings surrounding them. Parking was a total bitch, but once they got their feet on the ground there was no stopping them. They bought shitty hot dogs off the street, popped into a bunch of little stores for the sole reason just to look, and even ventured into the fancy stores to make fun of their obscene prices.

“Robs! I want you to guess how much this shirt is.”

“Uh… like ten bucks?”

“Try seventy-five.”

“Holy shit! It’s so ugly!!”

“I know! God, rich people are weird.”

“Steve… you are rich.”

“Yeah, but I have taste. That’s different.”

“Keep telling yourself that, dingus.”

They were beginning their trek back to the car when a small, multi-colored flash caught her eye. A rainbow flag sticker was stuck to the store-front window of a small record shop, and Robin immediately grabbed Steve and pulled him in.

“Robs, what—“

“Shut up, and come with me. I might’ve found something.”

She didn’t wait for his response, only shoved open the shop door with a huff. The bell above her jingled, and a woman behind the counter nearby looked up from a magazine on the desk below her.

“Hi there, welcome to Rainbow Records!” The lady greeted them. “New releases are in this bin here,” she gestured to a bin full of records next to her, “and all other records are sorted by genre and alphabetically.”

Immediately, Robin was in love with her. She had long black hair that was shaved on the sides, the top of it pulled back into a sort of half-bun. Her ears were full of piercings, some dangling almost to her shoulders, that matched the flowy skirt she was wearing.

She felt Steve nudge her with his elbow, and that was when she realized she had been staring rather intently with her mouth hanging open like a newborn baby bird waiting for its mama to puke up worm goo for food. She snapped it closed with an audible click.

“Sorry, uh… Hi! Thank you for uh— that. I… um,” she floundered and pointed to herself. “Robin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Robin. I’m Delia,” she responded, smiling before looking her up and down.

“We also have a room in the back you might be interested in. There’s an assortment of different media back there I think you’ll enjoy,” Delia said before she winked at her, and Robin knew she was in the right place.

“Well, Robs?” Steve spoke up behind her, quiet enough to not be overheard. She had almost forgotten he was there. “You wanna go look?”

It was more than a question, it was an out. It was his way of asking if she was ready, if she wanted him to be a part of this, too. If she wanted him to be a part of this stage in her life, this self-discovery.

She looked back at her best friend, whose face was so open and earnest that it made a huge smile bloom on her face.

“Hell yeah,” she said with a grin. “Let's do this, dingus!”

She grabbed his hand and walked up to the counter, and Delia pointed her head towards a small hallway on the other side of the room that Robin only just now noticed.

“It’s back there whenever you’re ready to look,” she informed. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. Both of you.”

“Thanks, Delia,” Robin responded, blushing enough to be seen from outer space, and looked up at Steve, whose face was a similar shade of red. She rolled her eyes and dragged Steve behind her into the room.

It was dimly lit, giving it a cozy atmosphere that made her feel completely at home. Posters and colorful flags lined the walls, with pictures of queer artists and figures as well as local drag queens and advertisements for different underground clubs filling in the gaps. There were different sections for movies, books, music, and magazines, all with different subcategories depending on which sexualities they included.

Robin’s eyes began to sting. She had spent years of her life feeling like the only person in the world, knowing that she would never find anyone like her in Hawkins and trying miserably to make peace with that. Then Steve came along and accepted her with open arms and zero complaints, and it made her feel a little less lonely.

But now, looking at a room filled from wall to wall with things by people like her? By people who knew what it was like to fall for people society says you shouldn’t fall for, by people who have defied what society said and expressed themselves anyway? It was enough to bring her to tears.

“Woah, hey, Robbie,” Steve began, moving in front of her to block her view. His hands came to rest on her cheeks, wiping away her tears as they fell. “What’s wrong? Is it too much?”

Robin shook her head, clenching her eyes closed.

“Happy tears,” she laughs wetly, hand coming up to wipe away a tear that snaked its way under her chin. “They’re happy tears, promise.”

Steve pulled her into a tight hug, hands wrapping solidly around her and she instantly felt better. She melted into him and hugged him back, and the two of them stayed there until she pulled away.

“Alright, help me find some hot women, okay?”

Steve laughed that big, loud laugh of his and Robin couldn’t help but to join him. They sorted through all of it; books, movies, and magazines alike. She went home that night with two books, a handful of magazines, and more knowledge than she ever imagined having about being queer.

It was time she put it to good use.

“Have you ever heard of the term ‘bisexual’?” She asks. He shakes his head. “It means liking both, Steve.”

He goes silent, so quiet she would have thought he stopped breathing too if she wasn’t still laying on his chest. His mouth silently forms the word, before a smile breaks out on his face.

“Bisexual. I think… I think that’s me,” he confirms.

“Now tell me properly this time,” she suggests. He smiles at her, and she can’t contain a smile of her own.

“I’m bisexual, Robbie,” he says, his words full of genuine confidence.

“Thank you for telling me, Steve.”

They smile at each other, both so wide she’s surprised their faces haven’t split in half yet. She scoots up to wrap him in a hug, laughing a little when his arms immediately squeeze her back.

Turns out her best friend, her platonic with a capital P soulmate, is more like her than she thought.

———

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[f1version]

congratulations on the 1k!! it's well deserved

could i please request alex albon + ❛ i didn’t know where else to go. ❜

❛ who did this to you? ❜

❛ please don’t leave me. ❜

i apparently need some angst!

SAFE & SOUND ★ AA23

pairing: alex albon x driver! fem! reader

summary: you and alex have never had a good relationship as teammates, but for some reason you feel safe in each other’s arms.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, implied and mention of verbal and physical violence (non explicit, not between the pairing, reader explains what happened but nothing detailed), implied toxicity and sexism, anxiety, alex calls reader love.

word count: 1,4k

notes: this ended up being longer than i expected

general masterlist ★ 1k special

Everything hurts.

From the soft leather seats of your car to the speed in which it was being driven. Tears fell down your cheeks while those cruel words rushed through your head all over again. They will never stop, you repeated. But they had to stop, they had to stop because they weren’t true.

You should leave. F1 is not for women. Daddy’s money. Your wins were gifted to you. Cheater.

Every punch, every scream. Everything hurts because the cruelest people are the ones who don't see beyond the differences, the ones who only look for flaws. It seemed like safety was something you couldn’t afford.

It was 3:00 AM when you parked in front of an apartment building in Monte Carlo. You had only been there once 6 months ago, yet you managed to drive there as if it were routine. 

You don't even know why you drove there.

Your name was still on the list of people allowed to go up, even when he said he was going to do a new list and you were sure you wouldn’t be allowed anymore. You guessed he forgot, after all, Alex Albon was somewhat forgetful.

Alex.

You are in front of Alex Albon’s door, your teammate’s door. Questions finally start pouring into your head. Why are you here? What makes you think he will let you in? What makes you think he will help you?

You and Alex weren’t the best teammates, and it was mostly your fault. He took you by surprise with his kindness, he was as sweet and funny as it could get. He was sunshine and you were midnight rain; cold, unpredictable, pushing away every intruder who could throw away what you had been building since you were 4 years old.

Still, you were going to knock on his door at 3 in the morning.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

For five minutes and eight seconds, there was no answer, the wait was doom, it was a sign that you should turn around and leave because Alex was asleep. But he had always been full of surprises.

Two confused brown eyes meet yours, saying your name in such a tone. "Are you. What?"

"I didn't know where else to go" you speak quickly, nervous, the bruises hurt more then.

"I, Come in, let's talk inside"

In that moment a sigh of relief leaves your lips. Of course he would let desperate souls in his house at three in the morning.

The fake blond led you into the living room, where, with a soft motion, asked you to take a seat on the black sofa in front of you.

Alex sits next to you, concern in his pretty eyes. You haven't said anything since he opened the door. You always had something to tease him with, but only a small cry came out of you. You didn't even look at him, something was very wrong.

He calls your name, soft and caring. “Can you look at me?” You hear him say as you stare down at your hands. "Love, please tell me what's wrong, you're worrying me.”

Observing was one of Alex’s greatest qualities, that's why he froze. His gaze was stuck on the bruise of your left arm. On the way here, they had taken on a blueish color, they were painful, especially when you remember the reason why they were there to begin with.

“Y/n?” He says cautiously, scared to mess it up. "Who did this to you?"

Alex gets closer and suddenly you've never felt so vulnerable, so alone. Alex didn't want you here, it was almost four in the morning and he was in his pajamas while you were crying on his sofa, smelling of that goddamn drink someone spilled on you.

"Alex, I’m sorry. I, I know you must be tired," you say in a hurry, trying to get up. "I, I should go, everything is fine nothing, nothing happened."

Alex grabs your hand, looking up at you. "Love, please."

Somehow that’s enough to make you stay. His eyes, such pretty brown eyes drown in worry and sadness. You can't stand it. Seeing Alex sad was something only could bear within race weekends, when your focus wasn’t on him. But, yes, he always looked better smiling.

Alex sighs, "stay here, I'm going to go get an ice pack and some water."

You decided to look down, more tears filled your eyes. He was so good. Alex was a real-life angel in your eyes, and you never thanked motorsports for the things it had done for you until now. Knowing him.

When he came back, a glass of water made it’s way into your hands, calming the nausea and the nerves. 

“Love, can you turn around a bit? I need to see that bruise,” Alex states, you just comply. You knew that if you thought about it too much you would want to run away without looking back. This isn’t the strong, confident version Alex knows, this is some broken toy who has had enough playing. You didn’t want him to see you like this, you were afraid of breaking something that didn't exist.

But maybe it exists, that something. Maybe it’s just hard to spot what that is. Maybe it was all about the laughs, hugs, and soft touches on the get-togethers of the team and the grid. Maybe it was how he looked at you with those gorgeous brown eyes.

That maybe is what encourages you to open up, he wouldn't judge you. He could never.

"I, I was in a pub, celebrating the points from last week with my sister and,” you inhale sharply, "and at some point, she went dancing with her girlfriend and... some people, fans, they recognized me and they, they."

"They did this."

It wasn’t a question, it was a fact. The lump on your throat only allowed you to nod. Looking at Alex you recognized anger, it was something carnal and dangerous, something you hadn't seen before. It wasn't the adrenaline rushing through his veins after something went down on track. This was twisted, crooked.

"Love," He says, slowly. There's that nickname again. "Do you remember their faces?" He asks a few minutes later, tense. “What they were wearing. Something?"

"Alex,"

"We have to do something," he says, standing up abruptly. "This can't stay like this, you,"

"Alex," you interrupt him, "i know what I have to do, but not now, please. I just want, I want to rest, I want peace, I want… Please, let's not talk about this now and," there’s a confession hanging in the air, "please don't leave me"

Your watery eyes find exasperated ones, calming them within seconds. His newfound softness brought you peace. 

"Can I hug you?" The Thai murmurs, eyes never leaving yours.

"Yes, you can."

His arms wrap around your waist gently, doing everything to keep you from moving too much, afraid of hurting you. That made your tears fall inconsolable. You feel Alex's hands caressing your back, they are so gentle.

"Here, put this on the bruise," he says as he pulls away, extending you an ice pack.

"Thank you."

After that, there are twenty minutes of comfortable silence. You notice the music playing in the background, soft and relaxing, lo-fi, most likely.

Alex guides you to the bathroom, letting you shower away the anxiety. He even offers you a t-shirt and pajama bottoms that are just a little too big on you, but nothing wild. He brings snacks for both of you, giving you a sandwich and more water; you make a mental note of inviting him for dinner one day.

"Do you want," Alex says, breaking the silence "I, It doesn't matter."

"Alex," You call, sitting next to him, with your head almost falling on his shoulder. "It’s okay, you can ask."

“It's not what you think, I,” he smiled, “I just want to know if you want to cuddle for a while? Not in my bed, if that’s weird, but I can bring some blankets and pillows, it would be comfortable. I don’t think it would be weird, is it weird to you? We literally live together, you know, Williams. Agh! You know what I mean."

Your body moving closer to his silences his blabbering, your head resting on his chest, legs almost in his lap, a smile in your face. Alex puts an arm around you.

"Yes, that’s okay, really," you muttered. "And sorry."

"Don't apologize for coming, everything is fine I,"

“I mean how I've treated you,” you say and he makes a big ‘O’ with his mouth, then frowns. Is he confused? "I feel like I've been cold."

Alex smiles. "Honestly? I feel like it's just on race weekends, and I know why."

Now you smile. A grateful smile. No one had ever understood or tried to. You feel tears running down once again, this time of overwhelming gratitude. Alex kisses your temple. 

“You are okay, love, safe and sound, I promise”

[blues824]

🏃‍♂️💨 I Was TAG so of course I'll be joining in this mutual event~

All I can think about is Rollo F. With a sweetheart!s/o with number twenty~ I find it a bit funny but sweet, I just need more Rollo writings 🤧

Hoping you have a good winter holidays, I'll be back to request more~

You requested: Fake dating for Christmas Ball.

Gender-neutral reader

Rollo Flamme

It came as a surprise to no one that Crowley wanted to host a Christmas Ball for all the schools to attend to, just because Noble Bell hosted the Masquerade Ball. 

There was a bit of a twist, however: Everyone attending needed to have a date. It could be a friend, it could be a romantic partner, it could be someone’s parent just to piss them off. However, everyone needed to go with someone.

To say that you had received many letters asking you to be someone’s partner would be an understatement. You have turned each of them down as politely as you could, making sure that you parted on friendly terms.

There was one that you were looking for, but if you did not receive it in three day’s time, you would accept someone at random.

Well, your silent prayer was answered in the way you didn’t expect, nor in the way you wished.

Rollo Flamme had sent you a letter via a pigeon. You rushed to go get it some food after you untied the letter from the bird’s leg. Opening the letter, you read it, just to feel your heart beat a million times and break just a few seconds later.

Dear Y/N,

I am writing to you to ask if you would be my partner for the Christmas Ball. It has come to my attention that in order to attend, one must have a partner. I would like to keep up appearances that say I am not letting the past… events… affect me or the social relationship of our respective schools negatively. I am hoping that we come to an understanding on this, as I am coming as a guest on behalf of Noble Bell College.

Should you accept, I would forever be in your debt. After all, you helped me here in Fleur City as well, and I do not believe I have paid you back for that. Ask anything of me afterward, and I will see to it that your wish is granted.

I apologize for the inconveniences this may or may not bring you.

Rollo Flamme

Well, a win is a win. You were gonna be able to go to the Christmas Ball with Rollo, the man you had harbored a crush on since the Masquerade Ball. He made you feel appreciated when no one else did, and while that was because you had no magic, you were going to take what you could get.

You immediately wrote a small note in return as the pigeon feasted on small breadcrumbs. Your hand was shaking a bit, but that might have been because your wish was finally coming true… in the most heart-shattering way possible.

Dear Rollo,

I accept your invitation to be your partner for the Christmas Ball. I await your arrival with eagerness. I ask for nothing in return, as this is what friends do for one another. 

By the way, I fed your pigeon so that it may not be tired on its way back to you.

This does not cause any inconvenience to me.

Y/N L/N

~~~~~~~~

Rollo kept clicking his pen as he read your note. The brevity of it was appreciated, but it was the way in which you said that you were excited for him to be there that made his face feel warm. He was lucky that no one was around because they would have seen blush on his face.

Preparations were being made for his departure, and he was glad that he finally had a partner so that he may attend the event. He originally did not want to go, and should you have refused him, he wouldn’t have gone. Now he had a reason to go, as he did not want to disappoint you in any way. 

His bags were packed, but his mind was unpacked. Ever since you had saved him from the dark space he had succumbed to, his mind was filled by you. Images of casual dates with you flew about in his brain, and all he wanted was to be with you.

However, what would everyone think if he began dating you? Everyone would know that he had a soft spot, and he would be with someone from a rivaling school. There were too many risks with that. Plus, your friends would think you were insane by choosing him. To be fair, he would think you aren’t right in the mind either. After all, who would want to be with a person who set his entire school on fire out of pure, blind rage (you, apparently).

~~~~~~~~

The day eventually came, and the cafeteria was completely cleared for the event. It was transformed into a festive room, an elegantly gothic Christmas tree in the corner to match with NRC’s aesthetic.

Grim opted to skip this event, as you bribed him with some fancy tuna. You had spent hours making sure your outfit was perfect, and that you had everything waiting to go.

Everyone was gathered outside of the cafeteria, waiting for their partners to arrive so that they may be admitted into the building to escape the cold. You were looking around to find Rollo, and you were thinking that maybe he didn’t come after all.

After a few moments of searching around and giving up, heartbroken, you started to head back to your dormitory. However, a hand reached out for your shoulder, and you jumped in surprise. You turned to see the man you had been waiting for with an apologetic look on his face.

“I apologize for making you wait this long. I couldn’t find you in this crowd of idiots.”

His statement made you laugh, as you knew a few people who would agree with him.

“It’s alright, Rollo! I’m just glad you came. I’ve missed you!” You pulled him into a hug, and the man was too stunned to speak. Your perfume or cologne that you had chosen to wear brought a feeling of comfort in his heart and lungs, making him feel as though he could actually breathe.

Once you pulled away, he extended his arm out for you to take, and you wrapped your hand around the crease in his elbow. Then, you both were allowed into the room at the Christmas Ball. It was definitely very grand and elegant, and you found yourself twirling about to take in the entire venue.

A few people let out gasps upon seeing you on the arm of Rollo Flamme, not sure what to make of it. You saw Ace and Deuce standing with each other as well, knowing that they went as friends. Attending the event meant that you got to skip the day’s classes, so obviously they were going to go.

~~~~~~~~

About an hour into the event, the DJ hired took the mic off the stand.

“All partners, head to the dance floor. The waltzing is about to begin.”

Rollo was nervous as he put his left hand on your waist and his right held yours. You put your left hand on his shoulder, and you smiled at him with that absolutely radiant smile of yours. The sight alone had the man internally on his knees, praying to whatever being was up there that you would be his and his alone.

The music started, and he took the lead. It was simple enough, only having to go by a count of three. You turned to look at your friends all around you, and you could feel the awkwardness between everyone. However, you were completely fine with where you were… even if it was under a pretense.

“Those idiots don’t even know where to place their hands… How did they even get in?” He asked, seeing Ace and Deuce.

“They are my friends, and it’s because I didn’t want to go with them. A lot of people surprisingly ended up asking me, but I refused them.”

You telling him that just made jealousy bubble up in his chest, but the fact that you turned each of those bumbling fools down made him feel better. You accepted him.

“I can’t say that I blame you,” He said.

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, making you a bit flustered. He got close to your face, looking very serious.

“...I’m not sure how I would react to someone who isn’t myself dancing with you.”

“And why is that, Rollo?” He let loose on his grip to twirl you around before you went back into position.

“Because I have fallen in love with you and I am not sure I want to get back up,” You had never been so happy that his face was so close to yours because you placed a kiss on his lips as you both danced.

The man’s face went bright red, but he reciprocated the display of affection tenfold, happy that you were his.

Once you pulled away, you smiled and asked, jokingly, “Do you think we convinced everyone that there is a feeling of goodwill between our schools?”

“I think we did more than that,” He said, smiling as well.

[rabbitblackx]

Hi! Could I request Jason Voorhees and Micheal Myres with an s/o who plays the sims like religiously and makes them in the sims? I think it’d be funny hehe :)

Michael and Jason with a Reader that plays The Sims

Michael Myers💖

You were constantly on your computer. In the morning after you made Michael breakfast, in the lazy afternoon, and at night when he came back from a ‘spree’. What were you doing?

Michael came up to you at your desk. He was an older man, and wasn’t in tune with the times. When you wouldn’t look up from your computer screen, he peered over to peek himself

It’s just some video game.

“It’s not just some video game…” you blurted out

Michael jumped slightly. How did you know he was thinking that?

“It’s The Sims. You can do anything you want in it.”

He walked around your desk and stood next to your chair. You moved your mouse around, showing off your sim and house

“See? Look, it’s me!” You smiled and pointed at yourself on the screen

Michael had to admit… you were being pretty cute right now. Just when he thought it couldn’t of gotten any better, you jolted up and finally looked up at him

“Oh! And I made you!” You squealed

He tilted his head in confusion. You whipped back around to move the mouse to outside of your fake house, revealing Michael. You had to add mods to give him his mask and bloody coveralls, but it was worth it

“Look at him! Isn’t he cute?” You giggled

Michael tilted his head the other way at the little him on the screen. He looked at you, unimpressed at your wide smile

“Look, I can even get mine to kiss yours!”

You clicked on Michael’s sim, which made yours walk over. Your sim wrapped your arms around his waist, and kissed his cheek. You were laughing, thinking it was hilarious and cute. But Michael… he couldn’t believe it, but…

Did he just fall in love with you all over again?

Jason Voorhees💖

Jason never really paid attention to what you were doing on your computer. Hell, sometimes he didn’t even pay attention to you in general. But as the days went on, he noticed how much you spent staring at that screen. Like, you lived in the woods! Go explore, or swim in the lake! Okay, maybe not that… but still!

Jason finally stomped over to your desk, expecting you to look up and cower. But nope… your eyes were still glued to your computer. He walked around to stand next to your chair, glaring down at you

“What?” You said, still not looking up at him

Of course, Jason didn’t answer. He only looked at your screen, surprised at the bright colours. He watched silently for a few moments, actually intrigued to know what you were playing. Finally feeling the intimidation of the large man next to you, you peeked up at him

“I’m playing The Sims. It’s a game where you can create your own character and build your house and everything! You can do whatever you want.” You explained

Jason bent down slightly to peer closer at your screen. He noticed the sim that looked like you, and all the furniture and such you decorated your house with

“Check it. I made you too.” You smiled.

Jason tilted his head, his eyes soon widening at the sim that looked just like him. You modded him so he was wearing his hockey mask, as well as a little machete in his hand.

“And look, they’re in love.” You giggled

You clicked on Jason’s sim and made yours walk over to kiss his masked cheek. His stiff yet bashful reaction made you laugh harder

“Isn’t that so cute?”

Jason kneeled down next to you, not taking his eyes away from you. He had never seen anything like that before, but he really liked it. It was so sweet

Sensing his change of mood, you smirked and leaned over, planting a soft kiss to his masked cheek

[dontyoufeelitangel]

The Stand

What happens when you happen to be in the same club as the first man Adam?

He’ll question you till the end of time, or at least that’s what it feels like.

You don’t mind people talking to you or asking questions, honestly you’re all up to get to know other people.

But Adam liked to fuck around,

He’d ask weird unrelated questions, to throw people off guard or just ultimately tease them.

You’ve met Adam before, he was very popular in heaven for being the first man but also for a band that he was in.

You’ve seen him around heaven, seen him at concerts and even talked to him a couple times.

So when he throws these weird ass questions at you, you’re totally confused but soon catch on to his antics.

Two can play that game, if he wants to ask weird questions, he can get weird answers.

It started off simple.

“As the first man Adam, do you have any weaknesses?” You tilted your head towards him smiling.

“What babe? Tryin’ to use this against me?” He grinned taking a sip of whatever drink he had,

You giggled “no of course not! Just curious is all” you raised your hands in the air to attempt to prove your innocence.

It was true though, you didn’t expect a legitimate answer from Adam so you had no intentions of using his answers against him.

“Welllll… I like vodka on ice” he spoke and raised his glass.

That’s what he must’ve been drinking, you thought to yourself.

You gave a small smile and took a breath in to say something but then you were cut off,

“But then there’s women on bikes! They look great! Oh! Oh! Or just the women who straddle!” A shit eating grin on his face as he answered, he was trying to throw you off course with his answers.

As tipsy as you were you let out a laugh,

“Oh god you are a handful..” you wheezed, clutching your stomach. Who thought the first man would be so enthusiastic about girls on bikes?

He seemed to like your laugh because his smile never left his face and his eyes never left yours,

He wanted to keep going, he’d wanted to hear you laugh again,

“Hmm I forgot about handfuls…” he muttered, pretending to think to himself.

You let out another laugh so raw and real that you had to turn your back to Adam just so he wouldn’t see you.

The alcohol must’ve hit your blood stream because Adam’s jokes were actually funny,

If you can even call them jokes.

Nothing about anything he had said was funny, the fact he was pretending to give genuine answers is what was so appealing and hilarious to you.

Of course the first man Adam likes handfuls, handfuls of what? Who knows, he just likes handfuls.

You laughter only encouraged him. It was a shame you were turned around of you would’ve saw how happy he was to hear the little giggles that escaped you.

.

You caught you breath and turned around, taking a sip of your drink and facing Adam again.

“Good answers huh?” He took a sip of his vodka on ice. Still his eyes were on you, eagerly awaiting an answer,

“Great answers” you agreed.

“Well it’s my turn now tits, I want to know your fears” he set his drink down, full attention on you.

You smiled,

“Okay first man,” you leaned in towards him,

“It’s everyone here” you whispered close to his ear. His smell of cigarettes and carmel filled your senses.

You leaned back into your chair, waiting for a reaction.

Your answer was obviously pulled out of your ass, it was a fake answer, of course you weren’t scared of anyone in the room. If that was the case you certainly wouldn’t be talking to Adam.

But Adam seemed to believe you.

“Well shit, you mean just all the people?” His face dropped. He must’ve been drunk because he sat there expecting more from you.

You almost couldn’t hold in your laughter, you didn’t know why Adam was so invested in your one answer.

“Yeah… and all of their peers, and all of their pets, and the chandeliers!!” You said, speaking so fast your words seemed to be sewn together. For that last part you waved your arms towards the ceiling.

Now that, was a fake answer,

You had no fear of animals or fancy light fixtures,

But since Adam bullshitted his way through his answers you would to.

And the funniest part is that Adam almost believed you, only until you brought up chandeliers did he realize you were fucking with him.

Now realizing the joke, he leaned back and crossed his arms, a smile appearing on his face,

He found it equally as hilarious that you to were fucking with him.

Once you realized that he realized, you let out another laugh

This time you didn’t turn away from him, you just laughed straight in his face.

He didn’t seem to mind though,

Your laugh was beautiful, and seeing you enjoy yourself around him was equally as stunning.

Your laughter quieted, you smiled and decided to give a real answer.

“I don’t like cigarettes though, I haven’t smoked since I was alive, so I guess you could say it’s one of my many fears.” You gave a genuine answer and smiled looking Adam in the eyes.

He grinned along with you,

“Fuu.. ….uuuck! You might not like me then, I practically shit cigarettes!” He howled, setting his drink down.

Wow, he thought he was soooo funny.

You smiled and looked down as he was laughing at himself.

It’s true though, he smokes a lot. He doesn’t have a reason not to, there’s nothing bad that can come from smoking in heaven.

.

Somehow the conversation between you two wrap up.

You and Adam know each other, but he’s never talked to you this long about so much stuff before, normally he just says hi.

You were starting to think Adam was a massive asshole based on how others talk about him, but now that you got to see him for what he truly is, you have to admit, he’s pretty chill.

The night was coming to an end, the club was closing. After finishing both of your drinks Adam offered to walk fly you home.

You accepted, only out of fear that you were too drunk to find your way home by yourself.

.

You both managed to wobbly fly to your apartment.

Your apartment was on the top floor of your complex. You had a patio/ landing pad that led into your house.

Being in heaven there was no fear or reason anyone would break into anyone’s house, so everyone casually left their apartment and houses wide open. This was easier especially considering how much distance it takes to stop and take off when flying.

You stumbled onto your patio as Adam crashed face first.

You screamed out in laughter,

Adam smiled at your laughter and flapped his wings a few times to get on his feet.

“Wow, ya got a pretty nice place here babe” he put his hands on his hips as he glared into your house from the patio/ landing pad.

He didn’t make an effort to go into your house despite it being wide open to him, it’s kinda like an unspoken rule in heaven.

“Pfff, no way! This is like, the low of lows here. I bet you got a fancy mansion of something.” You nudge his shoulder. Your lips curled into a soft smile.

With your hand on his shoulder you notice his wings, something you never seemed noticed before.

“Your wings are beautiful.” You blurted out not thinking. You were embarrassed, drunk and quite frankly, losing it.

Adam noticed your anxiousness and Adam spread his wings out for you, allowing you to touch them.

You ran your fingers over the primary feathers, then over his baby feathers then back to the top of his wings.

His wings were noticeably bigger than yours, it adds up though because he was bigger than you.

Adam’s wings were also gold.

Winners didn’t typically have colored wings unless they dyed them.

But Adam’s wings were gold, bright gold and reflective.

“I have a human soul but because of my status on earth my wings are gold, pretty sick huh?” He said as if he read your mind.

Still mesmerized by his wings you restated his previous remark,

“Yeah, pretty sick” you whispered.

The sun had set and it was getting darker in heaven, stars and moons became visible.

You sat in a comfortable silence as you toyed with his wings. You didn’t mind the silence, you thought it was nice actually.

Adam seemed to be freaking out though, perhaps he didn’t like the silence, maybe he thought it was awkward.

Adam let out a question, something to bring your voice and laughter back into his ears.

“Talk about space,” he said pointing towards the stars in the sky,

You smiled sleepily,

“Well,, it’s a beautiful place” you turned to look at the stars

“But it’s so damn cold” Adam huffed in a playful manner. His wings flapping quickly to show faux anger. On earth humans have documented that space is cold, to cold for humans. But when your an angel and its life eternal, temperatures are Insignificant.

“Sure for the human race” you shrugged,

“But for the planets and stars,,, and everything else,,, and Mars” you mumbled, your eyes. Glued to the night sky.

Adam just watched you as you blabbered on about space, he enjoyed your presence.

He’d decided he’d talk to you more often, every chance he could get.

As he was lost it thought you finished your previous statement making him snap back from his thoughts.

“It’s like paradise.” You turned your head to look at him.

The both of you smiled, looking at eachother.

You quickly looked and the stars, then the ground, then again at Adam.

“Why don’t you come inside?” You smiled. It was a question but the two of you knew he wouldn’t decline.

.

.

.

.

.

Note: if you don’t listen to mother mother then this fic is gonna sound absolutely wild. Based off the song: The Stand. The two main singers go back and forth about random as questions so I thought, why not Adam and reader?

I wrote this drunk and prolly high idk so sorrry for spelling errors.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Falling pants | Evanstan

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Husband!Sebastian Stan x Actress!Wife!Reader x Husband!Chris Evans

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Its the photoshooting for Captain America: The Winter Soldier and next to the photoshooting you have some funny stories to tell about Sebastian. But you're not the only one with funny stories about some of the actors.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.475

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff

𝐀/𝐍 -> I wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for helping me to come up with the idea. I love youuuu.❤️❤️

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | March 30 | Theme: TWS Cast | Photoshoot, social media, stunts, favourite cast member | @catws-anniversary

LGBT Bingo | N1 | Sebastian x Chris | @lgbtqbingo

Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist

“Chris, honey? Have you seen my tie?” Sebastian asks, slightly panicking when his tie isn’t there.

Chris chuckles about his messy husband, holding up the fabric Sebastian is looking for and walking closer to the other man.

“You mean this tie? It was with mine,” the blond man hands his husband the tie.

Black tie, white shirt, and dark pants — both men look really similar. Their outfits match yours.

“I’m nervous,” Seb confesses, running his fingers through his short, brown hair.

Chris is trying to get Sebastian’s tie in place while he stands just a few inches away from his husband.

“I know. So am I.”

The reason why they are both nervous is because this is the first event — even though it’s just a photo shoot — that they are attending as a married trouple. When it came out that the three of you were dating, it was chaos. Between people who never minded and supporters, there were also a lot of people hating you. You were the one who got most of the hate; most messages told you that you’re dating them only for their money because you can push one away when the other is too boring, and they called you a slut for loving two men. Telling you that the relationship and feelings between the three of you are only fake. Seb and Chris spent many days holding you in their warm embrace, comforting you, and trying all those tears caused by a few idiots who made you think that you’re destroying the relationship between Sebastian and Chris. Both of them made sure that they loved you just as much as they loved each other and that those comments wouldn’t change anything about it. And they showed you once again when they took you out for dinner to ask you if you wanted to marry them. You said yes, of course. The wedding was small, like the three of you wanted it to be, but it was perfect. Anthony Mackie, your best friend, walked you down the aisle, and your husbands had the biggest smile spread across their faces. But now it’s the first time you’re showing up as a married trouple for the photoshooting and interviews for the new movie Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

“But it’s going to be oke, Seb. You’ve got me and our girl,” Chris says, his soft voice giving Sebastian the comfort he needs to calm his nerves.

He then leans closer and captures the blond-haired man’s lips with his. A short but meaningful and loving kiss they share before they hear your footsteps. Both men turn their heads toward the door when you enter the room. You smile softly, and the men’s eyes roam over your body. Seb is the first one who gasps and stands in front of you with a dropped jaw. Chris chuckles at his husband, closing Seb’s mouth, before he starts drooling.

“Do I look oke?”

“Oke?” They answer in unison, and you blush softly.

“Baby, you don’t know how beautiful you are, do you? Making both of us hard when we just look at you,” Seb says, walking closer to you.

He is capturing your cheeks, then he licks his lips and presses his plump, soft ones into yours. The kiss takes away your breath for a moment. That man can kiss like he has never done anything else before. Chris can do it too; they both can take your breath away and make your knees go weak with just some soft touches and their beautiful, warm lips all over your body.

“Let’s go, or we are late. Ans we don’t wanna stop the people from seeing our pretty doll, huh,” Seb says, kissing you again, before he reaches out and waits for Chris to place his hand in the other man’s big hand.

Even though you’re working as an actress and a lot of people know you, some still don't. Most haters think that you’re just with the two men because of their money. But when you enter the room where Anthony and the other cast members are already, all the thoughts are out of your mind, and the smile is big across your lips.

“There she is. I really need to ask your husbands to burrow you for a night,” Anthony says, hugging you tightly.

“They already argue every night about who is the biggest spoon and who is the smallest spoon, so I don’t think they burrow me.”

Suddenly, you feel a big hand on your shoulder, pulling you back and against a broad chest. You know you have Sebastian standing behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist and the others placed on your shoulder.

“No one is going to burrow you, pretty girl,” he mumbles into your ear and kisses a trail down your neck.

"In five minutes, we are starting with the interviews and the photoshooting," one of the men who works there shouts through the room.

Sebastian wraps both of his arms around your waist. You look through the room to find your other husband; he is standing with Scarlett somewhere at the side and laughing, holding his hand to his chest like he always does when he is laughing.

"Isn't he adorable when he laughs like that?"

"He is. Just like you, baby," Seb says, causing you to blush and hide your face with your hands. "Don't hide your pretty face."

When everything is in the room, you're getting ready to start the photoshoot. First, Chris and Seb, because they want to show the return of Steve and Bucky together. Then they take photos of Chris, Anthony, and Scarlett, and when everyone gets combined with the person he is closely working with in the movie, you all are asked to get in front of the white front to make some more photos with the whole cast. Chris mumbles something into your ear, and you burst out laughing, looking at Seb, who rolls his eyes, knowing why his wife is laughing.

"No, Chris. Really?" He asks with a smirk, his blue eyes glistening playfully.

"Ohh- I feel like there is a story you wanna share with us? Looks like something funny," one of the interviewers says, and you nod eagerly.

The others from the cast look slightly confused until you nod down toward Sebastian's legs, and they understand, smirking before you clear your throat. Ready to tell them funny things that often happen on set.

"When we are home, you wish you wouldn't have said that, doll."

You slide your hand into Seb's, squeezing it softly. Then you look back at the people standing in front of you.

"During some scenes with the winter soldier, Sebastian needed to run over a car, and he fell over his own feet. His glasses were foggy, and he didn't see the place he was used to stepping on. Then he fell and slid the car down like it was a slide," you say, laughing softly. "And then his pants accidentally fell down a few times in the middle of the scene. It was pretty funny because the big, fearful Winter Soldier was standing there without his pants."

Sebastian laughs, scratching the back of his neck. His face is red, and his grip around his hand tightens.

"But-" Chris starts, and suddenly every pair of eyes lies on him. "He wasn't the only one who accidentally made funny things. Y/N was running from one place to another, and she was supposed to spring over a small place full of water. It turned out it wasn't that small, or she was too small for that. And when she shouted something to make us follow her, he jumped, and just a moment later she was lying completely wet in the swimming pool."

Your eyes widen slightly, and you look at Chris. Sebastian next to you burst out laughing, remembering the day exactly because he made a picture the moment you fell into it. He has it as his background, and you just can't convince him to change the background; he loves it too much. The way your hair is spread around in the water and you are lying flat in the small pool. Sebastian smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and capture your lips with a short but soft kiss.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my husband kissing my wife, but none of them gives me any attention at all," Chris says jokingly.

You roll your eyes, amused, reaching your hand out for Chris to take it, while you slowly push away from Seb with red cheeks and a wide smile on your lips. The way both men look at you when you laugh is nothing but pure love and adoration for the most beautiful woman in their lives — their everything, their love.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days