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#hes been running the school for hundreds of years
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274 Palestinian lives don’t matter to the Biden administration
This week provided further evidence – if any were lacking — that anti-Palestinian bias is simply a rule of American politics, and today maybe the leading rule.
Yesterday Israel killed 274 Palestinians and wounded hundreds more in Gaza’s Nuseirat refugee camp while freeing four Israeli hostages, and the U.S. promptly hailed the “rescue”. It is beyond question that this was an indiscriminate massacre, but Joe Biden saluted the Israeli action, and so did Secretary of State, without a mention of Palestinian lives.
“As if we needed more proof of how little this administration values Palestinian lives,” Khaled Elgindy wrote.
Mainstream reporters are horrified, but politely. After the last outrage earlier this week, when Israel killed dozens of Palestinians in a school, a reporter asked at the State Department: “People might find it very puzzling that you have the leverage of $3.8 billion of defense supplied to the Israelis per year, and you cannot compel this situation to change.”
The State Department said the U.S. has prodded Israel, and there’s been progress. “We have seen them [the Israelis] take improvements over time.”
So the U.S. keeps pouring money and weapons into Israel, and the Democratic base believes overwhelmingly that it’s a genocide, and Biden keeps saying he wants a ceasefire, but won’t apply any pressure to achieve it.
Republicans are at least more honest about their policy. Nikki Haley—a possible running mate for Trump —visited Israel at the end of May and wrote “Finish them” on an Israeli shell. Even as the death count in Gaza crossed 36,000.
This disdain for Palestinian life is consistent throughout the American establishment. Variety reported this week that a Hollywood marketing guru warned her employees that they should hit “pause on working with any celebrity or influencer or tastemaker posting against Israel.”
In an email, Ashlee Margolis said, “Anyone saying Israel is committing a ‘genocide’ is someone we will pause on working with, as that is simply not true…. While Jews are devastated by the loss of innocent lives in Gaza, we are feeling immense fear over the rising Jew Hatred all over the world.”
So again, Palestinian lives just don’t matter, next to Jewish fears.
This special degraded status for Palestinians has become an area of study for Palestinian intellectuals. Rabea Eghbariah, a human rights lawyer and doctoral student at Harvard, wrote a lengthy legal argument for a new term for the Palestinian condition.
“The law does not possess the language that we desperately need to accurately capture the totality of the Palestinian condition. From occupation to apartheid and genocide, the most commonly applied legal concepts rely on abstraction and analogy to reveal particular facets of subordination,” Eghbariah wrote –and offered the idea of “Nakba” as a legal concept to encompass that subordination.
But Eghbariah’s argument was censored, first by the Harvard Law Review, in “an unprecedented” move against a fully-edited essay, as the Intercept reported. Then, in an even more unprecedented fashion, by the Columbia Law Review this week, whose board of directors, which includes alumni with ties to the Biden administration, actually shut down the entire website when Eghbariah’s piece went up. (In the ensuing controversy, they have now restored the site).
In the eyes of the world, Palestinians only count when they are dying. That is what Qassam Muaddi wrote at our site this week, in an essay titled, “Against a world without Palestinians.”
Over the years, learning our Palestinian history, I began to notice that in order to be acknowledged by the rest of the world, we Palestinians always had to die…. It is as if in order to exist without justification, Palestinians had to intimately deal with death — they could master it, put up the best show of it, but they always had to die.
Qassam went on to explain that all that builds Palestinian character, including culture and stories, has no place in the world as it is. It must always be dismissed as terrorism or something less than human.
He actually ends that essay with hope, that the global discourse of Palestine is finally changing.
And the next day, another 274 Palestinians were killed, with full U.S. support. And Democrats wonder why democracy is in crisis.
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tangledinredstring · 2 months
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Kneejerk reaction is to say "Jawbone! Why haven't you reported that a student has expressed murderous thoughts towards another student! Surely, that is your job!"
But that is assuming that he hasn't. I choose to believe that he has, but the problem is that the principal was
1. A robot man that enforced perfect order by literally attacking students that fell outside the line, and then
2. Another student, who almost certainly doesn't have the training and resources required to deal with this problem.
There is, of course, a third option. The position of Vice Principal has limited power, but it is held by an actual adult...
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saistappen · 1 month
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Special guest | MV1
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In which Max pays a visit to a primary school class to answer a few questions before the Dutch gp
or
In which Max only has eyes for the young class teacher
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Today is a very special day. Your six-year-old pupils were particularly looking forward to this day.
The Zandvoort Grand Prix, which was not too far from the school, would take place at the weekend.
In a few minutes, a very special guest would be coming to your class - the lion class.
Over the last few days, you and your class have organised and prepared a lot to make your guest's time in class as pleasant as possible.
A satisfied smile sits firmly on your face as you walk through the rows of tables and put up the children's name tags you have made so that your guest can call them by name.
You then unfold the blackboard to reveal the colourfully painted greeting.
Written in orange chalk in the centre is the words Welcome Max Verstappen.
Your pupils have painted a few trophies around it, as well as chequered flags and racing cars.
A glance at the clock hanging above the classroom door tells you that it is about time for the first pupils to arrive.
Shortly afterwards, the first pupils enter your classroom with big smiles on their faces. Some of the children are already wearing fan merchandise.
After you have greeted each child with a quick hug, the rows of tables slowly start to fill up and an excited murmur goes round the room.
"Good morning my lions", you greet your class with a smile on your lips and a little chant of welcome comes back.
"As you know, we have a visitor coming in a few minutes. But before we get there, I'd like to go through a few things with you about how we're going to behave during this," you begin as you sit down on the edge of your desk and look around the room.
Yesterday you went through the rules for today with your protégés. It is important to you that everything runs smoothly and well today.
It's not a given that someone famous would take the time to answer questions in a class full of six-year-olds.
" Who can tell me the most important things to consider for today? "
Within a few seconds, countless hands shoot into the air.
Your gaze wanders briefly through the rows before you take a boy from your class, who lists all the rules to be observed for the next two lessons.
With a satisfied smile on your lips, you thank the boy and add a sentence or two, telling your charges that it's important that they don't talk out of turn and to please come forward if they want to ask Mr Verstappen a question.
You know that the class is pretty excited and probably not everything will go one hundred per cent, but despite all that, you're really confident that it will go well.
Some time passes, during which your class spends painting Max Boliden in bright colours, until there is a knock at the door of your classroom.
Countless heads go up and look over to the door with wide eyes, while one or two squeak out.
You can clearly see the nervousness slowly rising in each of them, even in you.
You wipe your slightly sweaty hands on your black jeans before a smile creeps back onto your lips and a "Come in" leaves your lips.
Shortly afterwards, the door opens and a smiling Max Verstappen steps into your classroom.
As he does every time there's a race weekend, he's wearing one of his team shirts and dark trousers.
"Good morning! "He beams as he enters the classroom and lets his gaze wander round the room.
"Good morning Mr Verstappen! "The class literally shouts in chorus, causing a proud smile to spread across your lips.
Point one has already been successful.
"Welcome to the lion class. I am Mrs y/l/n. I'm really pleased to welcome you here today," you greet the Dutchman and hold out your hand to him, which he shakes with a smile.
" I'm delighted to be here today. "
You notice how his eyes linger on you a little longer, so you clear your throat quietly and look back at your protégés, who are scrutinising Max curiously and whispering quietly.
"Look what we've painted for you! " shouts Leona, one of your students, pointing to the blackboard and presenting the colourful picture to Max.
"You drew this especially for me? That's really great! " Max steps a little closer to the board to take a closer look at the artwork.
"And we drew cars too! " shouts the next child and gets Max's attention.
"Did you design new liveries for special Grand Prix races? " Max begins to walk through the rows to take a closer look at the coloured-in cars.
He repeatedly takes time for each of the children to exchange a few sentences with them about their coloured pictures.
Smiling, you watch him and sit back on the edge of your desk.
A glance at the map next to you shows that Max will start by introducing himself and talking about his motorsport career. Afterwards, the children will ask a few questions and get autographs. Finally, there will be a little bobby car race in the schoolyard, where each child will compete against Max himself.
"You're all really great artists. I'll show my team your paintwork and I'm sure something can be done! " Max grins as he walks back to the blackboard with the pile of leaves.
Enthusiastic murmurs go through the class as Max begins to prepare for his little talk.
And shortly afterwards, he begins to tell your class, who are literally glued to his lips, about his motorsport career.
During Max's lecture, you sat in the back row to give Max enough space at the front of the blackboard.
His lecture was quite interesting, so now you know a lot more about the Dutchman.
The children had been so quiet throughout the lecture that you are really proud and shower the children with a little praise.
"And now we come to your questions. Now you can ask me anything you've always wanted to know. But think about your question carefully, because everyone is only allowed to ask me one. "
Max holds up his index finger to make it clear to the children that they are really only allowed to ask one question.
"Just one? How am I supposed to decide which question to ask? " Liana's sad voice sounded from the front, causing Max to start smiling.
" You'll manage that, Liana. Take some time to think of a good question," you reassure the little blonde-haired girl, whereupon Max gives you a grateful look.
" Who wants to start asking me a question? " As Max's gaze begins to wander around the class, countless little fingers are raised in the air.
One or two of them even start to kneel on the chair so that they can stick their finger higher in the air and be seen better by Max.
" Finn ", Max takes the first boy.
" Would you like to drive for Red Bull forever or for Mercedes or Ferrari? "
The Red Bull driver leans against your desk and rests his hands slightly to the right and left of him as he begins to think for a moment.
Your protégés look eagerly at their star and wait for an answer.
"I actually feel incredibly comfortable in my team and so far there's no reason for me to leave. I get on well with everyone in the team and we have a good working relationship so that everything runs as smoothly as it should. I'll never rule out a change, because you never know what's to come, but so far I can reassure you and tell you that I'm not considering a change. "
A sigh of relief goes through the class, which makes you grin.
In fact, most of your class are Max and Red Bull fans.
" Who is your favourite team colleague? " Joleen asks Max after he has taken her on.
"So far I've got on really well with all my team mates and we've all got on really well, but if I had to choose a team mate who I've got on best with, I'd say Daniel. The two of us not only get on particularly well in Formula 1, but also in our private lives. "
In fact, you've already guessed this answer, as you could always clearly see how well Max and Daniel got on and harmonised with each other.
You still mourn the time when Max and Daniel were team-mates. That time really was by far one of the funniest content times at Red Bull Racing.
A few more interesting questions were asked, which Max answered in detail, such as his favourite colour, which is blue, his favourite food, which was tomato soup and the question about his pets, Jimmy and Sassy two Bengals cats.
"Is there anyone else who hasn't asked me a question yet? " Max's gaze travelled around the class.
Even after answering countless questions, he still seemed pretty relaxed and happy.
"Mrs y/l/n hasn't asked a question yet," Johann takes the floor as all the children turn to look at you.
Max also leans a little more on the desk now as he leans forward to see you in the back row.
" Do you have a question for me? " he grins.
So you start going through all the possible questions that are floating around in your head.
There are a lot of things that would interest you, but they don't belong here right now, so you decide on the simplest question that any teacher would have asked.
" What was your favourite subject at school? "
" Oh, that's really easy! " Max grins and almost claps his hands. " Your teacher will probably rip my head off for this, but I never liked going to school. The only subject I liked was geography. What's your favourite subject? "
Countless voices start shouting their favourite subjects in confusion, which Max takes in his stride with a smile and somehow tries to catch every subject.
To restore some calm, you walk back to the front and start clapping a rhythm, which the children immediately follow and the class becomes quiet again.
A quiet " Wow " leaves Max's lips, who looks at you with fascination and makes the blush rise slightly in your cheeks.
"That's the best way to keep things quiet," you almost babble as you start to clear your desk to give Max a little more space for the upcoming autographs.
You had already cleared out your desk, so there were hardly any things on it. However, you now have to keep your hands busy to avoid blushing even more or doing something stupid.
" Please line up to get an autograph. If you have an autograph, please go and put on your jacket so that we can go out into the school playground straight away. Please keep your voices down," you remind the children, who shortly afterwards line up in front of your desk waiting to sign an autograph.
You take the seat next to the door to keep an eye on the children who are putting on their jackets.
The autograph session goes faster than expected, so that within twenty minutes all the children are standing in the corridor whispering in their jackets and then follow Max and you out into the schoolyard in a duck march.
Yesterday afternoon you had already set up a small parkour, which you will have to drive through today with the two Bobby Cars.
The red and blue Bobby Car are already ready and waiting to be used.
You had even made a small podium out of cardboard boxes and bought small mini trophies to give your offspring the full programme of a racing experience.
While the children would race against Max, you would time them and the three fastest times would end up on the podium.
Max grabs the blue Bobby Car, which just fits half his knee, while Aaron can sit perfectly on the red Bobby Car.
While the two race against each other, the children cheer on Max and Aaron in different groups.
The latter narrowly wins, as Max has a few problems with the only Bobby Car.
Despite all this, the Dutchman doesn't lose the fun of the game, so he competes against every single child with joy and fun, even if it's not enough for one of the three podium places in the end.
Standing proudly on the podium with their trophies, the three winners literally raise their plastic trophies in the air until a couple of water pistols are used to replace the champagne shower and all the children run across the schoolyard screaming and chasing each other.
Smiling, you look after your class as Max stands next to you.
"That was a really nice day. Thank you for preparing so many nice things. I really don't know the last time I really enjoyed a day like this," said Max, smiling and thanking you.
"I also have to thank you. You really put a lot of effort into my class. You were really looking forward to the day, which was a real success. "
You can't stop a smile from forming on your lips as Max gives you a smile and then pulls something out of his trouser pocket.
" I forgot to give you your autograph. "
The Dutchman smiles and hands you the autograph card before also grabbing a water pistol and running over to your class.
Confused, you lower your eyes to the autograph card, which shows a grinning Max in his dark racing suit.
You really have a great class.
Your lions are really lucky to have such a great teacher like you.
You've learnt a lot about me today and I hope I get the opportunity to get to know you a little better.
Why don't you write to me
01*******
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natjennie · 2 months
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as funny as aguefort's "violent deranged lunatics" last stand speech was, I think it's honestly really important to the conceit of d&d in general. like you cannot start analyzing the moral and ethical quandaries of the bad kids adventures without picking the world apart entirely. it's d&d! you're supposed to grab your banker by the balls and aim a pistol at his head! you're supposed to crash a pirate ship into a building in hell! you're supposed to turn hundreds of feet tall and grab the sun out of the sky! you're supposed to be wild and outside the box and fun and reckless, because it's all imaginary. which aguefort has been preaching since literally day one.
I understand why kipperlilly is mad, I do, and gorgug's anguish after "we didn't have to study at all, we could've just done this?" is such a succinct example of it. but it's aguefort!!!!! what did you expect!!!! of course he put in a system for people to just go hogwild and win with abandon! kipperlilly has been going to the school for at least 2 years before now. and aguefort is the most powerful and insane wizard of their age. why the fuck did she expect it to be different. that's what I don't understand. she's got a vendetta against the very foundation of how aguefort runs. she was just never gonna thrive in that environment. hudol and mumple are right there kettlecook cuntclapper, transfer away. this is aguefort bitch.
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changetyre · 3 months
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Lando is secretly dating a girl he knew from high school, and she meets Daniel Ricciardo at one point, Lando brings y/n to a race very discreetly and there is some jealousy with Daniel and it ends up with a quickie in his motor room, and lastly their relationship is exposed in some way
Please☺️
You're mine and it's time to let them know II Lando Norris x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ
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SUMMARY: Lando has loved nothing more than to have you all to himself for so long but it only takes Daniel Ricciardo to make sure the world hears you scream you're his.
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: I switched the request a little I hope you don't mind It just sort of worked better in my mind like this ;)
"You ready darling?" Lando walked into your shared bedroom after the last-minute business call he had to take. "Woah." He bit his lip eying you up and down.
"No baby...I know that look we're already running late." You couldn't hold back the smirk at the way you saw your boyfriend looking at you knowing that look would only lead to another and you'd both end up wrapped up in the sheets soon after.
"What? I don't know what you're talking about." Lando feigned innocence although he walked towards you wrapping his hands around your waist loving the way you felt in his arms especially when you looked like this.
"Lando." You said his name in a warning tone as you finished putting your earrings in.
"It's times like this I hate that we're a secret...how am I supposed to keep my hands off you tonight?" Lando pouted, his usual child-like behavior showing.
"Well you've done for 6 years I'm sure you'll manage another night." You smiled grabbing your boyfriend's hand before guiding him out.
"At least let me kiss you." Lando stopped and pulled you back you as you were about to open the front door.
"I just put lip gloss on." You pouted this time.
Lando obviously didn't find a problem with this as he happily took your pout as an invitation to close the space between you both and kiss you a little more intensely than you'd thought he meant.
By the time he pulled away, Lando knew he had left you in a daze. "Lan-" your breath skipped as you saw the lip gloss around your boyfriend's lips.
"That should do for a few hours," Lando smirked as he took his fingers wiping the gloss that had spread around your lips and proceeded to use the back of his sleeve to wipe the excess around his own lips before exciting through the front door.
________
You arrived on separate cars not being new to the hundreds of cameras that would be waiting at the entrance to the gala. After so many years of hiding their relationship, everything was rehearsed when they were in public.
It was fun, you thought almost like your own Hannah Montana movie. People knew who you were, completely aware to your ties with Lando from being classmates in high school to working together in the same industry now.
That's at least as much as the public knew. They weren't familiar with the longer version of the story where Lando and you had actually been more than classmates in high school and were in fact in a long relationship and had mutually decided to work in the same industry to stay together.
Lando of course had always dreamt of being a driver and wanting to stay close to him but also sharing a passion for communication you'd been offered a job as communication manager for McLaren allowing you to stay close, but not close enough for people to suspect there was more.
So thankfully it also wasn't odd for you to appear at the F1 gala as you had been invited ever since you'd started working with McLaren.
What was unexpected though was the fact that a certain someone would take the opportunity to make a move now that he wasn't going to be in the team anymore.
"You look beautiful." Daniel walked to you a drink in hand before he took another one from a passing waiter handing out glasses of champagne.
"Thank you, Dani, you clean up well too." Daniel handed you the new drink as you chose to reply kindly not a stranger to men trying to hit on you but another driver was certainly new territory.
"You know when we were working I was certain you had to be seeing someone but coming to the gala with a dress as gorgeous as this without someone by your side...that is a surprise." Daniel was a lot more intense than you'd expected making you choke on your drink.
"Uhmm...actually-" You were interrupted before you could come up with something.
"y/n come dance with me." Lando walked up to you placing his hand low on your back which took you completely by surprise.
"I was actually hoping to dance with her myself-" Daniel laughed with Lando except Lando didn't seem to find the humor.
"Hmm was always faster wasn't I?" You gasped at the insinuation and watched Dani's smile drop but before you could say anything else Lando had taken your hand and was taking you somewhere.
"Lando!" You shouted after your boyfriend who didn't seem like would stop until he got to his destination.
Lando didn't stop until you were both in a secluded hallway.
"Lando what the fuck wa-" But before you could say anything else Lando had pulled you in holding your waist tightly into him and kissing you passionately.
"You're mine okay? I'm tired of hiding it." He whispered and you could feel his breath tickle your lips as you tried to process what was happening.
"Lan where did this come from?" You weren't exactly opposed to the idea of finally going public but you certainly didn't think today would be the day.
"I just...I'm having a hard time keeping my hands off you in this dress." Lando smirked repeating his words from a few hours earlier before he took your hand once more pulling you into the men's bathroom and locking the door after him.
"Lando what has gotten into you!" Your smile deceived you as Lando picked you up and sat you on the bathroom counter.
"Can't a man just show his girlfriend how much he fucking loves her?" Lando smirked as he kneeled in front of you and wasted no time in attacking the space between your legs.
"Ahh-" You were breathless in seconds as Lando licked at your clothed clit for a few seconds before shoving your panties aside and sucking you directly.
"Let me see you baby-" Lando seperated his lips from you for a few seconds and you knew exactly what he meant.
You shimmied the straps of your dress off your shoulders letting Lando see your bare chest as his hand came up to cup your left boob.
"Lando please fuck me-" you begged your boyfriend as you felt yourself getting close.
"Only because we need to be quick pretty girl." Lando obliged coming up to kiss you and letting you taste yourself on his lips as he aligned himself with you.
"Mhm-" you moaned into your boyfriends lips as he pushed into you starting to set a pace immediately.
"How does that feel baby?" Lando asked.
"Mm so- so ahh-so good Lando-" You were struggling to formulate words with how good he could make you feel.
"That's it darling, let everyone hear who you're screaming for." Lando grunted.
"AHH LAN!" You weren't able to contain your volume as Lando quickened his pace without previous warning but something told you he intended for this to happen.
"Who's making you cum baby?" Lando asked as he could feel you start to clench around him.
"Ah-Ah- you- you Lan-only you-" You moaned not even sure how loud you were being but quite frankly you didn't care.
"Fuck...that's it." Lando was satisfied enough as he slowed his pace after fucking you through your orgasm and finishing himself. "That's it, darling." He kissed you softly, a clear contrast to the way he'd just fucked you seconds before.
"Everyone's gonna know now Lan-" you commented as you pulled the straps back over your shoulder and Lan cleaned you up gently.
"That was the idea yes-" Lando smirked proudly planting a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling your dress down and patting it down for you.
"Was the idea everyone or Dani?" You asked laughing to yourself knowing how childish your boyfriend could be.
"Hmm let's say one of those was an added bonus" He winked as he watched you fix your hair and tried to clean yourself up a bit.
"You're insane." You turned to face your boyfriend.
"And you still said yes." He smiled before kissing you once more, proudly wrapping his arm around your waist and enjoying the rest of the night unashamedly with you by his side.
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A/N: This is the first time I do a twitter au on Tumblr but don't expect them frequently cause I hate doing them I just thought it went well with this story ;)
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rboooks · 1 year
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DC x DP Fic idea: The Royal Consort
Wesley Weston runs a blog after getting over his desire to expose Danny's secret- primarily due to no one believing him- and no one pays attention to it since almost all of Casper high school has one too.
The difference between the hundreds of other blogs is that one of his pictures of Phantom is clear. A perfectly uncorrected image of the famous ghost, whereas nearly all other pictures are blurry due to ghosts disrupting cameras. Even Wes isn't sure how he managed to capture him so well.
Another difference between his blog and others is that one of his followers happens to be John Constantine, who followed the kid a long time ago due to the fanfiction of the Bats and found them hilarious.
John opens his phone app, expecting a new chapter to the Bruce Wayne/Superman fic, and spits out his tea upon seeing the High King of the Dead casually in the human world. Horrified that the King has not been appropriately welcomed- which could lead to a war that the humans would never win- he calls an emergency Justice League and Justice League Dark meeting.
It didn't help that they had allowed a county to pass the anti-ecto laws, which ruined any attempt to appease the Ghost King once the news broke to the public. The League still worried about a declaration of war even after they demolished the laws and the United Nations had the States apologize on humans' behalf.
They quickly discover High King Phantom has been visiting Earth for almost three years. Before his coronation, Phantom had not been outside the Infinite Realms very often though he has appeared throughout history. Cave drawings date back thousands of years before the first ancient Egyptians, but he's visits are few and short.
Life would naturally send him back to the Realms because he had too much power and ectoplasm. After taking the throne, his powers only grew, which meant someone had to summon him as the only way for him to stay on Earth longer than an hour.
Now as King, he appeared only within the small town of Amity Park daily. Why?
John sighs. "He has an anchor. Someone is tying him to this plane. Like the helmet for Nabu, which allows Doctor Fate to exist here without being launched back to the Infinite Releams, Phantom has bonded himself. And I know who that is"
He pulls up a class photo on Weston's blog and points to a boy wearing a particular necklace.
"Danny Fenton is wearing the official Royal Consort of the Infinite Realms symbol and has been since he was fourteen. Phantom's husband may be our only hope to salvage the terrible mess the USA's bloody GIW placed the rest of us in."
Danny loved the necklace he found in Pariah Dark's old haunt. He inherited Pariah's haunt and everything inside once he was crowned and hasn't taken it off since. He didn't think it would be an issue. It's not like it would out his secret to his parents or anyone else since it was in Ghost Speech. Even he didn't know what it said.
Then one morning he comes down for breakfast only to have the most important members of the Justice League sitting in his living room waiting to greet him.
Desperate to keep his halfa status a secret, Danny must convince the entire world watching him, that he's just a human who scandalously eloped at age fourteen with one of the strongest beings in the mulitverse.
Jack's horrified "We were shooting my son-in-law this whole time" became a meme that has trended for months.
( Part 2 )
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elix8r · 3 months
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Monkey Bars (sjy) Part 2
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PART ONE
PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader
GENRES: smut, angst (so much in this part), college au, frat au, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers
WARNINGS (for this part): profanity, underage drinking, violence, depression, so much slut shaming, kind of toxic relationship?, lots of crying and emotions, mentions of sex tape, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, victim blaming
SUMMARY: Jake Sim was like the epitome of the perfect fourth-grade boyfriend. He had it all – being a year older automatically put him on the cool list (which in turn also boosted your popularity), genuinely kind, and very cute. But then, the earth-shattering truth that he was a two-timing cheater hit you like a ton of bricks. You caught him red-handed, holding another girl's hand and it devastated you beyond measure. So of course, in your nine-year-old mind, there was only one deserving punishment – a forceful push off the monkey bars during recess, resulting in a broken arm. 
And so, the battle lines were drawn. You and Jake became sworn enemies, a feud that carried on even into college. You saw him as a total fuckboy who always knew how to get under your skin, while he saw you as a snobby bitch who thought she was better than everyone else. But fate, in its twisted sense of humor, had other plans. Out of a class brimming with a hundred other possibilities, it was Jake who ended up being your assigned partner. 
Clearly, the world had favorites and you weren’t on that list.
WORD COUNT: 18.1k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i know it’s been almost a year since the first part came out and so much has happened since then but seriously thank you to everyone who waited patiently for this it really means so much to me that this story was loved as much as it was and i hope this last part doesn’t disappoint! seriously love you guys so much and enjoy! 🫶
THE FRAT DIARIES MASTERLIST
GLOSSARY
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You didn’t really know how the rest of the weekend went. In fact, you weren’t even sure what day of the week it was, but honestly, that was the least of your worries. Since Friday, you had been holed up in your room, refusing to leave your bed. After running out of the bar, it was as if you lost all your memory. You had a hard time recollecting everything when you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and swollen eyes.
According to Wonyoung, when she and Lily followed you out, you were in a state of absolute hysteria, hunched over on the streets, and dry heaving. Niki and Jungwon had stayed behind, and while you were trying to get away, Jungwon had apparently threw a punch, resulting in both of them getting kicked out. But neither of them cared. They came out of the bar seething with anger, not only with how the three boys treated you but also with the realization of what one of their own brothers had done to you. It was as if your body shut down, and Niki ultimately had to carry you back to your dorm. Since then, you haven't left the comfort of your bed.
Throughout the weekend, Wonyoung made sure you were left alone and took charge of your phone, shielding you from any more heartbreaking news. She couldn't bring herself to disclose the truth to you, knowing that what you had assumed was indeed true, and the reality was even more devastating than she had feared. A video was circulating, spreading like wildfire, and it seemed that a large portion of the school had already gotten ahold of it.
Your best friend had also held back in revealing that she had marched over to Epsilon Nu after tucking you in on Friday night and ended up getting AES banned from the EpNu house for the rest of the semester. None of your sisters seemed to care though as they were quick to stand in solidarity with you and wanted no association with their former brother fraternity. In fact, Yeji (AES’ President) had called an emergency meeting the next morning, which you were obviously absent from, to address the severity of this situation and how no one was to engage with the fraternity for the remainder of the semester. Once again, none of your sorority sisters seemed to protest as they all praised Wonyoung for the actions she had taken.
Wonyoung was never one for violence, but upon discovering what Jake had done to you, her sister, best friend, and soulmate, she felt an overwhelming need for him to face the consequences. Jungwon, of course, did his best to reason with her, urging her not to make any rash decisions, but Niki stood firmly in support of Wonyoung's impending actions.
Jake had just put the final touches on your shared project before submitting it when his door was forcefully thrown open. Jay, startled from his slumber on the other side of the room, was bewildered but still groggy. Jake, however, recognized the situation the moment he saw Wonyoung's face twisted in absolute fury. He was too slow to react as she delivered a resounding slap across his cheek, setting off a chain of chaos. Jay was now fully awakened as Jungwon tried to restrain Wonyoung, and Niki stood in the doorway, glaring at Jake. Despite Jungwon's efforts, Wonyoung effortlessly broke free from his grasp and landed a solid punch on Jake’s face, causing him to be met with a searingly painful sensation. The commotion attracted the attention of several of his fraternity brothers, who rushed over to assess the situation. The sight that greeted them was far from what they had anticipated.
Jay and Jungwon struggled to hold back Wonyoung, who had turned feral, screaming and attempting to break free in order to continue her assault on the boy now bleeding on the floor. Jake made no attempt to fight back or escape; he simply absorbed the blows, unable to meet anyone's gaze as guilt washed over him. He knew that once the truth about his actions became known to everyone, he would be left with nothing.
It took the combined effort of about five boys to finally restrain Wonyoung, but by then, the entire house had caught wind of the incident through her passionate outbursts. The piercing looks Jake received from his fraternity brothers only intensified his overwhelming sense of shame. He was immediately summoned into Heeseung's room for an impromptu meeting to address the situation.
"What the actual fuck, Jake!" Heeseung's disbelief was eclipsed by his anger. While Jake had always been one of the more unruly members of the fraternity, this crossed a line that even Heeseung couldn't fathom.
Jake pressed a towel to his still-bleeding nose, remaining silent with his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Jesus fucking Christ so you’re just not going to say anything?” Heeseung scoffed at Jake’s lack of response as he paced around his room. Then, the door opened revealing Taehyun who was in charge of risk management. He entered in silence as he eyed Jake before turning to Heeseung. 
“Soobin thinks you should call Yeji. Wonyoung’s having to be guarded by like five people. She’s crazy like she just yanked Sunghoon by his hair and threw him across the room like he was nothing, it was actually insane. The guys are kind of scared, what do you want me to do?” Taehyun’s normally big eyes were even wider as he informed EpNu’s president of their current situation. 
Heeseung, obviously stressed, exhaled really loudly and combed through his hair. “I’ll handle her and I’m calling Yeji right now. Can you take care of him? I’ll send Yeonjun up to help.” He shot Jake one last look before leaving. 
After Heeseung departed, the room fell into an eerie silence. In contrast to Heeseung's exasperation, Taehyun remained ominously quiet as he took a seat at Heeseung's desk. His unwavering stare fixed on Jake, and as mentioned earlier, Taehyun had a menacing aura when angered, which sent waves of terror through Jake.
"Is it true? What Wonyoung is accusing you of?" Taehyun's voice was cold, devoid of any sympathy for the bleeding boy.
Jake finally mustered the courage to meet Taehyun's gaze. Every fiber of his being urged him to avert his eyes, yet this time he decided to speak up. "Kind of."
Taehyun scoffed, unsatisfied with his response. "What the fuck does that mean? It's a yes or no question."
As Jake opened his mouth to reply, the door burst open, revealing a tall figure. Unlike Taehyun's icy glare, Yeonjun exuded an entirely different energy. He appeared visibly angered. "Did you fucking do it?"
"He says he 'kind of' did it, whatever that means," Taehyun informed the older male, rolling his eyes in Jake's direction.
Yeonjun narrowed his eyes, casting his gaze downward at Jake, both literally and figuratively, as he stood towering over him while Jake remained seated on the bed. "Alright, then what does that mean?"
Jake felt as though he was trapped in an interrogation room, suffocating under the weight of their scrutinizing stares. "I didn't intentionally share the videos. Some of the guys got hold of them and sent them in a groupchat to everyone during practice."
"So it's not your fault that they were leaked, then?" Yeonjun probed further, his confusion evident as he questioned why Jake bore a guilty expression.
Jake let out a heavy sigh before finally confessing, "Yeah, it's not entirely my fault when the videos first leaked, but I didn't do enough to shut it down. I don't know what came over me, but they kept pushing me to show more, and then Jeongin said some things that angered me, so I ended up giving them what they wanted. I thought they would drop it after that, but instead, they started treating me like some sort of god or something, and my ego got the better of me, so I let it continue. Even at that moment, I knew it was messed up, but for some reason, I couldn't stop myself. I just never expected them to confront her about it."
As Taehyun and Yeonjun absorbed Jake's explanation, their demeanors shifted dramatically. Taehyun stood up, seething with anger as Jake finished speaking. "You didn't think they would go after her and harass her about it? Are you seriously that fucking naive? They literally witnessed her most intimate moments, so of course, they targeted her! Unlike us, girls are constantly slut-shamed even for being even the slightest sexual!"
Taehyun practically screamed at Jake, unable to comprehend how he could have been so oblivious to the consequences his actions would have on you. Taehyun struggled to restrain himself from physically attacking Jake, his rage barely contained.
"Jesus, Jake. Taehyun is right. What the fuck were you thinking? Did you ever stop to consider Y/N? Fuck, man. Now you're going to face the repercussions of all this because you’ve really crossed the line this time." As the words of his friends echoed in his mind, Jake couldn't help but long for a chance to turn back time and undo everything.
3 days ago…
When Jake handed his unlocked phone to Eric and Jeongin so they could add their orders to the team's food delivery, he hadn't considered that they would have full access to his phone. He should have sensed trouble when he noticed them laughing loudly in the corner of the locker room. But it wasn't until he heard the sound of text notifications coming from nearby phones that he frowned, realizing the messages were from their group chat.
Reactions varied among the team. Some huddled together, laughing, while others stared at him with varying degrees of confusion, disgust, and amusement. It wasn't until Jisung approached him, asking if he had intended to send the video, that Jake's confusion deepened. Then he heard a familiar sound emanating from a nearby phone, and it dawned on him what had happened. Jake immediately stormed toward them, ready to unleash his anger for invading his privacy and sharing his private videos. But before he could even open his mouth, Jeongin beat him to the punch.
"Jesus, Jake. She doesn't even look like she's enjoying it. I mean look at you. Like this is kind of embarrassing. Clearly having a high body count means nothing by the way you’re fucking."
Jeongin and Jake had never had a good relationship, stemming from an incident during Jake's freshman year when he unknowingly slept with Jeongin's (now ex) girlfriend. Since then, Jeongin had harbored animosity toward Jake, and Jake wasn't about to let him win this time. Without thinking, he did the only thing he believed could counter Jeongin's words.
In an escalating frenzy, Jake's teammates gathered around him as he sat on one of the benches, pulling up a more recent video of the two of you having sex. The explicit video played, filling the locker room with the sound of your loud moans as you sported a fucked out expression while Jake wrapped his free hand tightly around your neck. It became evident, through the videos Jake displayed, that Jeongin had been mistaken. However, Jake hadn't considered the consequences of defending his ego. In his attempt to assert himself, he inadvertently exposed you to a vulnerable position. The initial high he experienced over the following days gradually faded as he came to terms with the gravity of his actions. Furthermore, he had forgotten about the widespread distribution of the videos. Before he could even begin to address his mistakes, it seemed that everything had already spiraled out of control.
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While Jungwon had been the first to intervene between Jake and Wonyoung, it wasn't out of concern for Jake's well-being. He was actually holding Wonyoung back to prevent her from getting into trouble. He couldn't care less about Jake right now after all that had happened tonight, and he was relieved that Jake wasn't his big as this situation could have been even more devastating. Instead, he was stuck with the fool on the other side of the room, pathetically nursing his head (Jungwon was sure Sunghoon was actually crying), while Jay inspected it to ensure that Wonyoung hadn't actually scalped him. Still, he would prefer Sunghoon any day over Jake—poor Niki.
However, Jungwon had to admit that his girlfriend was quite terrifying when she was angry. His gaze drifted over to the head-shaped hole in the living room wall, a result of Sunghoon's head being smashed into it by Wonyoung. She had also kicked poor innocent Huening Kai in the stomach during her attempts to break free, and Sunoo appeared disheveled and exhausted from his own encounter with her that he narrowly escaped unscathed. Since then, Wonyoung had calmed down significantly, but everyone remained on guard as if she were a rabid dog that could unpredictably go wild again.
When Heeseung finally entered the living room after informing Yeji of the incident at the house, he took in the scene before him. It almost resembled a battlefield, with everyone tending to their wounds. In any other situation, he might have found it somewhat amusing, but right now, he had too much on his plate to find humor in it.
"Hey Wonyoung, Jungwon, and Niki, can we talk? The rest of you can go back to sleep. I'll speak with you guys in the morning," he addressed the three individuals who were present at the bar. Each of them displayed a range of emotions, with Wonyoung's anger being the most apparent on her face.
Jungwon and Niki nodded in agreement, while Wonyoung seemed unwilling to move from her spot on the couch. With some coaxing from her boyfriend, however, she reluctantly got up and followed them.
The four of them entered the kitchen for more privacy, and Heeseung let out a sigh before delivering the news. "I just spoke with Yeji, and unfortunately, due to the violence you showed towards multiple brothers tonight, AES will be banned from the house until the end of the semester. I’m sorry and I want to let you know that this isn’t at all what I wanted cause I know the reasons behind your actions, but I can’t go against the rules. We'll have time to discuss what will happen next during the break."
Wonyoung couldn't care less about the news. In fact, she was relieved that none of her sisters would have to come into contact with Jake.
"I need to talk to you three about what happened at the bar. I'll be having a more detailed conversation with Jake, but I want to know the full extent of what occurred," Heeseung's voice was stern, and it was perhaps the most serious Jungwon and Niki had ever seen their president.
"It was just three assholes who approached us while we were out and started harassing Y/N. She had no idea what they were talking about, and they assumed Jake had already shown us videos. He obviously hadn’t though so we were confused, but they were so fucking disrespectful towards her," Niki recounted, his brows furrowed and a look of disgust on his face as he recalled the degrading treatment his friend had endured.
This was exactly what Heeseung had feared, as he didn't know if any of the Epsilon Nu boys were involved in the incident. "I'll have to conduct a thorough investigation with Taehyun and Yeonjun over the next week to ensure that no one else was involved. Niki, I know you're Jake's little, and he may not have mentioned this to you, but it doesn't mean he hasn't discussed it with Jay, Sunghoon, or any of the other guys."
Wonyoung's face twisted in anger at Heeseung's words. The mere possibility that some of the EpNu boys could have been involved only fueled her diminishing fury. "Heeseung, I swear, if you find out that Jake had been showing those videos to the boys, I won't give a shit about your stupid fucking ban. I will kill them," she declared, her threat laced with genuine conviction. Wonyoung meant every word. Too many of her loved ones were connected to the boys of EpNu, and if she discovered any of them had prior knowledge of Jake's actions, she would unleash her wrath upon them without hesitation.
Heeseung understood the gravity of Wonyoung's words, knowing full well what she was capable of especially after tonight. He simply nodded silently. "It's getting late, Wonyoung. You should go back to your dorm," he sighed, rubbing his head in exasperation before he addressed her once again, this time expressing his remorse. "And I'm sorry about what Jake did to Y/N. I can't even begin to imagine what she's going through. I understand why you did what you did tonight. I'm not supposed to praise you for punching Jake, and I truly am not, but I want you to know that he will face the consequences he deserves."
His words hung heavily in the air as the three of them absorbed their weight, comprehending its significance and the gravity of Jake's actions. Wonyoung locked eyes with Heeseung, scrutinizing them to ensure he wasn't lying. Satisfied with what she saw, she gave him a firm nod and finally made her way out of the house, with Jungwon following closely behind.
By the following morning, before the sun had even risen, news of the incident had spread among your sorority sisters like wildfire. Their anger surpassed any imaginable limit, prompting many of them to march down to the EpNu house, demanding to confront Jake. Unfortunately, their attempts were in vain, leaving them to seek alternative means of seeking justice for their sister.
Winter, true to her earlier threat, didn't back down. Unable to physically harm Jake, she devised a different plan to inflict pain. With the assistance of Giselle, the sorority's Vice President of Public Relations, they composed an exposé letter, which was then published on AES' public Instagram account, boasting a substantial following of 10k. The letter called out Jake by his full name and provided enough details, carefully avoiding disclosing your identity as the victim, to shed light on his actions. Its publication sparked a significant reaction within the HybeU community, with all the sisters reposting the letter. This, in turn, flooded Jake's and EpNu's social media accounts with a deluge of hate comments, reaching such an overwhelming level that they had to disable their comments section a letter of their own in response. 
Monday arrived, and it came as no surprise that both you and Jake were absent from campus. Your friends managed to coax you out of bed for some breakfast, but the weight of the situation hit you hard as you tearfully picked at your pancakes. Despite the comforting hugs from your friends, the overwhelming sense of shame and regret still consumed you.
Lying on Winter's bed at the AES house, with Wonyoung across from you on her own big's bed, you felt a sense of solace in their presence. It was a natural occurrence for the four of you to hang out like this, given that your bigs were also best friends.
Winter broke the silence with a question, "Have you considered actually taking legal action?"
Honestly, amidst the chaos of dealing with the invasion of your privacy and its fallout, the idea of seeking retribution against Jake hadn't crossed your mind. While you were aware of the intense public scrutiny and the ostracization Jake was facing due to the public outing by your sorority and friends, you had barely had a moment to think about anything beyond handling the aftermath.
"No, not really," you replied, your brows furrowing in thought. "I mean, is there even anything I could report him to the police for?"
"You should, there's bound to be something they could charge him with. Like, at the very least for invasion of privacy, right?" Wonyoung's eyes widened with seriousness as she sat up from her bed, interjecting into the conversation.
Wonyoung’s big nodded in agreement with her little, "Yeah, there's definitely legal grounds for action. This whole situation is fucked up, and there's no way he should get off this easily."
You let out a sigh, feeling a headache starting to form at the mere thought of the complex legalities involved. "It's just so complicated. Plus, haven't we heard enough stories of things like this happening to girls, and even when they speak up, the police don't do anything? It's like I'd have to go through all this with no guarantee of justice at the end."
"There's no fucking way Jake's getting away with this. I mean, sure, everyone's hating on him right now, but give it time. After the break, they'll move on, and he'll be back to his normal life like he didn't just violate you. Meanwhile, you're gonna be forever stuck knowing those assholes have videos of you in your most vulnerable state. It's just not right," Winter vented, frustration evident in her tone. The idea of Jake seemingly escaping consequences fueled an indescribable anger within everyone present.
“Does the school know?” Winter’s roommate asked.
You shrugged in response, "I'm not sure, maybe? AES' post blew up, so it might've caught the attention of the administrators. But if they know anything, they haven't said anything about it."
"Okay, well then let's make sure they know. They'll be obligated to take action if you file an official complaint. We have proof and everything, so if they don't do something, the backlash will be insane," Wonyoung declared, already in action as she reached for her computer to draft the email.
"Wait, wait, wait. I'm not so sure about this," you interjected, your mind suddenly conflicted.
"What do you mean?" Winter chimed in, puzzled by your hesitation.
"I..." You hesitated, struggling to articulate the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "What if he gets like expelled?"
Wonyoung's big wore a baffled expression. "What do you mean 'if he gets expelled'? That's what he deserves! He probably deserves that and more."
The girls nodded in agreement, but your emotions were in turmoil, and you couldn't pinpoint why you weren't fully on board with delivering the harshest punishment to Jake. It felt utterly stupid; you knew you deserved justice for everythin he put you through, yet you couldn't shake the discomfort of potentially derailing his entire future.
"I don't know, I need time to think about this. I appreciate it, but give me some time," you said, offering them a tight smile that betrayed your inner turmoil. With that, you gathered your things and headed for the door. "I'll catch up with you guys later."
The rest of the day unfolded in the library, where you desperately tried to catch up on missed classes and prepare for looming finals. Yet, your grades felt like the least of your worries as your mind continuously circled back to the revenge plan your friends had suggested. The desire for retribution burned within you, but something held you back. 
Frustrated and overwhelmed, you sighed heavily and rested your head on the table, closing your eyes in an attempt to alleviate the pounding headache. However, as you lay there, you couldn't ignore the faint whispering emanating from behind the bookshelves nearby.
"That's her, right?" The hushed voices reached your ears, stirring a sense of unease within you.
"Yeah, it's definitely her. I've seen her at one of those EpNu parties, always with her little clique. That sorority thinks they're hot shit, but turns out they're just dirty sluts. I mean apparently she’s been run through by most of that frat," one voice remarked, failing miserably at keeping their tone down.
Your heart sank as you realized they were talking about you, and the other voice chimed in just as indiscreetly, "I'm not surprised. I heard even before her sex tape got leaked that she had a foursome with Jake, Sunghoon, and Jay. So, it’s probably true."
A heavy lump formed in your throat as you struggled to contain the surge of emotions welling up inside you. Clenching your jaw to stifle the rising anger, you continued to lie there, desperate to hear more of their conversation. It fucking hurt, but you wanted to know what people were saying about you.
"What a fucking whore. Isn't she embarrassed? I remember crying when I didn't get asked back to AES during rush, but now I'm so glad, 'cause they're probably all like her. So much for being a ‘top house’," the voices continued, each word feeling like a dagger to your heart. 
"Yeah, I’m gonna take not getting into AES as a blessing in disguise. It seems like they only go after sluts, super fucking classy. I'd be mortified if I were her parents. Did you see her trying to play the victim card? Apparently Jake's getting all the blame, but that's bullshit because she clearly played a part in making those videos," the girl's disdain dripped from her words.
"Ugh, yeah, I kind of feel sorry for him. Everyone's been treating him like shit and icing him out, but what about her? That video was disgusting; the stuff they were doing were insane, and she looked so proud of it. It's gross," the other girl chimed in, their voices laced with mockery as they burst into giggles.
Unable to bear another moment of their cruel gossip, you abruptly gathered your belongings, stuffing them into your bag, and stormed out of the library, your emotions raw and turmoil consuming your thoughts.
Was this how people saw you now? You didn't even know them, yet they felt entitled to make all sorts of assumptions about you. The weight of their cruel assumptions pressed down on you, leaving you reeling with a mix of anger and hurt. As you waited for the bus, you clenched your fists, willing yourself to hold back the tears threatening to spill. You were beyond pissed off, and any lingering hesitation about going after Jake's academic career evaporated in an instant.
The moment you stepped into your dorm, you wasted no time in grabbing your laptop, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you poured your emotions into a lengthy email to the administration.
Jake was going to fucking pay—no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
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Jake emerged from a private meeting with Heeseung and Yeonjun, feeling a profound sense of dissapointment and carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. The repercussions of his actions had cast Epsilon Nu under intense scrutiny for the past few days, particularly due to the widespread awareness created by your sorority's Instagram post. The executive members of Epsilon Nu were in a frenzy, working tirelessly to address and rectify the fallout caused by Jake's behavior. It was abundantly clear to everyone involved that distancing the fraternity from Jake, at least for the time being, was not only necessary but also non-negotiable.
Fortunately for Jake, his membership as an Epsilon Nu brother hadn't been terminated, although he knew that many of the boys would probably have preferred that outcome. Heeseung explained that since the incident wasn't directly linked to the fraternity, they didn't have grounds to kick him out, but he had been placed on probation instead.
Despite the leniency shown, being an Epsilon Nu had been a source of pride for Jake so with the official announcement of his probation until the end of the school year, he felt a profound sense of loss and disorientation. The consequences he faced were still significant, as he was stripped of his participation in any EpNu coordinated events and denied the opportunity to reside at the house for the remainder of the year. Additionally, he was prohibited from wearing or engaging in anything that associated him with the fraternity during his probationary period. Still Yeonjun made sure to emphasize how lucky he was to not be kicked out and how they would allow him to live in the house until the semester ended due to it only being a couple weeks away.
He had of course anticipated some form of punishment from his fraternity, but what he hadn't expected was an email from the Dean’s Office sitting in his inbox. As he opened it and read its contents, his heart sank and what felt like panic started to creep up. He was summoned to meet with the Dean the following day to discuss his actions and the disciplinary measures the school intended to take. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he contemplated the impending consequences of his actions. 
While he wasn’t the exact person who had sent out the videos, there still was proof that it came from his phone. Plus, he was a willing participant in showing more content to his teammates and overall did nothing to shut any of it down. So of course, the next morning as he was sat in front of the Dean, he was sweating nervously with anxiety coursing through him at a rapid pace. 
The Dean wore a stern expression and barely acknowledged Jake's entrance, engrossed in the paperwork before him. A heavy silence hung in the room until the Dean let out a loud sigh, removed his glasses, and finally locked eyes with Jake.
"Mr. Sim, we are here today due to a troubling letter I received from one of your classmates, containing serious accusations against you. Upon an investigation by the university, it has come to light that you not only played a significant role in this incident but that it has gained significant public attention. In fact, even President Bang is now aware of the situation," the Dean stated, causing Jake's anxiety to intensify. The thought of the President knowing about his actions made him feel sick.
Without offering respite, the Dean continued, "This puts the university in an extremely difficult position, as it highlights our failure to protect our students. Consequently, certain actions need to be taken regarding your standing here. After thorough deliberation, the council and I have decided to place you on probation. This means you can continue attending classes but will be suspended from all other activities. I have already been made aware of your current status from your fraternity and must inform you that you will also be suspended from the soccer team until the next season. Your probation period will extend until the next academic year. Any further policy violations may result in suspension or even expulsion. Additionally, this disciplinary action will be recorded on your academic record, which may impact your future pursuits. While you have the right to appeal this decision, Mr. Sim, I must emphasize that the evidence against you is substantial, casting doubt on the success of your appeal."
Being a student at Hybe University had been Jake's lifelong dream, and now he found himself in a position that he never could have imagined himself in. The consequences he faced far exceeded anything he had ever imagined. He had risked everything for the mere approval of his teammates (ones that he honestly didn’t even care that much about), and the realization left him feeling utterly devastated.
"I should also mention that we have received additional information from one of your teammates who was present at the incident, providing details about other individuals involved. They too will face consequences for their actions. Know that we are taking this matter extremely seriously. By winter break, your parents alongside Y/N’s will be sent a letter fully disclosing everything that I discussed with you today to ensure that they are made aware of your status along with everything else. That will be all, and I expect to see you again at the end of your probation period." The Dean seemed unwilling to entertain any further discussion, promptly escorting Jake out after delivering the news.
Feeling numb and overwhelmed, Jake struggled to comprehend the gravity of his situation as he made his way back to the house. It was a profound realization that not only was he in disfavor with the school, but he had also lost his position as a soccer player. A series of poor choices had completely upended his life. While he understood that he would still be able to attend classes and, once his probation period ended, could potentially return to his fraternity and the soccer team, he couldn't shake the feeling that things would never be the same. The possibility of holding a leadership position within Epsilon Nu now seemed out of reach, and the dream of becoming team captain had evaporated. 
Amidst all the turmoil, Jake was also dealing with the dread of having to return back to the EpNu house. However, he had no other options; it was the only place he could go. What was once a sanctuary now felt like a confining prison he was compelled to enter.
Since Friday night, Jake had been met with glares and stony silence. He was only spoken to when necessary, and his presence seemed an unwelcomed one. Some of the guys didn't hesitate to voice their opinions and disgust towards him, while others acted as if he didn't exist at all. He wasn't sure which was worse. It hurt, but he knew he had brought it upon himself. He had no right to expect sympathy from his brothers after what he had done.
Jay had resorted to crashing in different rooms, avoiding any proximity with Jake while Sunghoon (who had been concussed during Wonyoung's attack) was outright ignoring him. Even Niki, who used to stick by his side everywhere, was distancing himself and seeking solace in the company of other fraternity members. Jake couldn't blame them; he knew a simple apology wouldn't solve anything this time. The Epsilon Nu boys were rightfully bitter and upset. They now had to face the wrath of the rest of the student body for their association with Jake, and they knew rebuilding their reputation would be an uphill battle.
Despite the circumstances, the EpNu boys stood by your side. While they knew Jake's actions weren't their responsibility, they continued to show their remorse through various gestures. When you returned back to your dorm, you were greeted with an abundance of flowers and baskets filled with your favorite treats, all signed by Epsilon Nu. Yeji had mentioned that the flowers had also been sent to the house as well. Some of Jake's closest friends, such as Niki, Sunghoon, Jay, and even Heeseung, even personally approached you to express their apologies and accompanied you to your classes to make sure you weren’t being harassed by anyone. However, while you appreciated their efforts, you knew that nothing could erase the pain you still felt.
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"Jesus, this morning I even woke up to Jay screaming because Taehyun apparently stepped on him while trying to go to the bathroom! I mean, what did he expect from sleeping on the floor?" Beomgyu ranted about the changed dynamics within the EpNu house since Jake's probation was revealed. Jay had been avoiding Jake by crashing in either Beomgyu and Taehyun's room or Sunghoon's every night.
With finals week approaching, you finally decided to take up Beomgyu's offer to study together. It was quite different from your study sessions with Jake, where you would mostly study in silence and occasionally seek help from each other. Instead, you and Beomgyu seemed to prioritize chatting with your textbooks mostly on the back burner. Since the whole STD incident, you had actually become quite good friends with Beomgyu. He was kind and funny not to mention quite easy on the eyes so his presence in your life was a welcomed change. He was also one of the first to reach out to you, expressing his disgust at what Jake had done and trying to cheer you up. 
"Poor Jay, at this point, wouldn't it be best to just kick Jake out of the house? I mean, he won't even be living there when January rolls around." You were fully aware of Jake's status with his fraternity and the school, and while you should technically be happy with his punishment, the anticipated joy never surfaced. Instead, you were still engulfed in feelings of betrayal and hurt.
"That's exactly what I'm saying! None of us want him around, and the whole vibe in the house is fucked up now. I mean he’s probably going to fail all his classes cause he doesn't even seem to be attending any so he might as well just move back home." Beomgyu's eyes sparked with frustration as he voiced his concerns. Although he had already been on shaky terms with Jake, even after his apology, Beomgyu now believed that their relationship had an extremely slim chance of returning to how it was at the beginning of the year.
"Ugh, I'm so sorry, Beomgyu. It's terrible that all of you guys have to deal with this." You genuinely empathized with the boys. While you had been the main victim in Jake's actions, there was no denying that everyone around him had also been affected.
As soon as Beomgyu heard your words, he quickly shook his head in disagreement. "Y/N, I told you it's not your fault! Seriously, stop blaming yourself for this." You knew he was right, but despite that, tears welled up in your eyes, and you realized that the guilt you felt wouldn't disappear anytime soon.
In the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you sniffled and looked down at your lap, hoping to stop the tears. However, Beomgyu reached out and gently took your hand in his, causing you to look back up at him. "I know you've been saying that you're doing a bit better now, but I can't imagine it being that easy. This isn't something you can just get over in an instant. You've known him your whole life, and I know your relationship was rough. But that doesn't mean the pain will be any less."
A tear escaped as it streamed down your face while you absorbed his words. He was right—things weren't okay, and the journey to healing would be long and challenging. But you had no choice but to move forward.
"I know you're closer to Wonyoung and Winter, and you have the support of your other sisters, but I genuinely mean it when I say that I'm here for you. Plus, it seems like your skills in physics are even worse than I thought, so I'm sure you'll need my help." True to Beomgyu's nature, he effortlessly made you burst into laughter amidst your tears. You knew this was his way of trying to cheer you up and it was working.
"Thank you, seriously." You expressed your gratitude sincerely, sharing a smile with him. His words, even if only a little, warmed your heart.
The rest of your study session went as before, with both of you laughing and attempting to get some work done. The joyful mood continued even as Beomgyu walked you back to your dorm after deciding to call it a day. However, the moment you reached the steps of your dorm, the atmosphere quickly changed.
From a distance, you could see a figure sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading to the entrance. As you approached, your anxiety grew, and you realized who it was.
"Oh, fuck no." Beomgyu seemed equally unamused by the unexpected encounter. Jake looked up as he heard footsteps approaching.
Immediately, Beomgyu stepped in front of you, attempting to shield you from Jake. Though partially blocked, you caught a glimpse of him. While you couldn't recall exactly how he looked the last time you saw him, you knew for sure that he didn't look nearly as bad as he did now. You almost couldn’t recognize him as his usual smirk and playful glimmer in his eyes were now no longer able to be found and instead replaced with sunken features that made him look as if he hadn’t slept for days. 
"Hey, guys..." Jake didn't know what else to say. He hadn't expected to see Beomgyu with you, and he instantly knew that talking to you seemed even more impossible.
He took a step forward but was quickly stopped as Beomgyu pushed him back with his free hand while still holding you protectively behind him. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing here?"
Even from behind, you could sense Beomgyu's anger vibrating in his voice. You, too, felt shaken, but for different reasons. Panic was creeping in, now familiar friends of yours since you were sure they seemed to be visiting you more frequently since the discovery of the leaked videos.
"Y/N..." Jake's voice called out your name, and you felt nauseous.
"No, seriously, dude, what the fuck are you doing here? Are you that fucking stupid? Do you think it's okay to just show up here and what? Ambush her into talking to you? Haven't you already done enough?" Beomgyu yelled angrily at Jake. 
"Please, just let me talk to her." Jake's voice softened in contrast to Beomgyu's, and he sounded almost desperate. He knew coming here might not have been the wisest decision, but he didn't know what else to do.
By now, you were nearly dissociating from reality, trying to control your breathing, but it felt futile. You realized you would have to face him at some point, but you didn't expect it to be so soon. You felt blindsided and unprepared.
"Jesus Christ, Jake, leave her alone! She doesn't want to talk to you, and the least you can do is respect her wishes." Beomgyu felt on the brink of losing control, restraining himself from confronting Jake physically. Seeing him at the EpNu house was one thing but seeing him here seemed to have ignited something in Beomgyu. 
"Fuck, Y/N, please. I'm sorry, please." Jake was on the verge of tears, desperately trying to convey his words to you while Beomgyu continued to push him away. Couldn’t he understand? You couldn't bear it any longer.
"Go away, please." Your voice was soft and broken as tears streamed down your face. You just wished for anything to happen, anything to help you escape this nightmare of a reality you were experiencing.
Your voice sounded weak, almost shattered, as Jake heard you softly crying. It felt as though his heart was breaking under the weight of a thousand pounds, and he wished he could vanish. At that moment, Jake realized he had committed the most heinous act, not only against anyone but against the girl he loved.
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Fortunately, before the situation could escalate further, your RA, Renjun, intervened after hearing the commotion from inside the dorm lobby. Upon seeing Jake, he threatened to call campus security, prompting Jake to dejectedly retreat back to the house with one last glance in your direction.
In a state of panic, you were quickly ushered into your room, where Wonyoung sprang into action, doing her best to tend to you. Without the chance to bid Beomgyu goodbye or express gratitude to Renjun, who was currently contacting campus security to request increased dorm security, you collapsed onto your bed, completely drained from the overwhelming emotions coursing through your body.
Jake seemed to have complied with your wishes since that night, as you hadn't heard a single peep from him for the next couple of weeks until school ended. He even skipped the mandatory Relationship 101 class, but honestly, you couldn't care less about whether he passed or not. You were just relieved that your project was completed before everything unraveled. In truth, you were excited that the semester had finally ended and you could escape this toxic environment and go back home. It was disheartening to witness the campus you once adored being tarnished by Jake's actions, which had caused you immense anxiety. This break was much needed.
However, amidst the chaos of managing school, rebuilding your reputation, and working through the emotional aftermath of the incident, you had completely forgotten about how your parents would react when you returned home. It was naive of you to assume they wouldn't find out about what had happened given the scale of the situation. Now, here you were, confronted by your family's intense outrage, more specifically your father’s.
"To think that we raised our daughters alongside that bastard disgusts me! How many times have we welcomed the Sims into our home? I can't understand how you're staying so calm about this. He violated our baby! I can't handle this; I'm going over there right now to make sure he knows he will not get away with this and we will be pressing charges!" Currently, your entire family was trying to restrain your father from actually committing murder on an unsuspecting Jake, who lived just a few blocks away.
"Dad, no! Oh my god, stop!" You shouted at him, joining your sisters and mother in their desperate attempts to prevent him from leaving the house. This level of anger was uncharacteristic of your usually even-tempered father, but you understood why he was so furious. After all, Jake had harmed his precious daughter, not to mention the youngest.
"Dad, please, let's think this through first!" Your eldest sister, Jennie, usually level-headed, firmly pleaded. While everyone in your family had every right to be angry, resorting to violence wouldn't solve anything—it would only escalate the situation.
"Honey, listen to the girls, please. The school has already informed us about the actions they're taking against him. He won't get away with it. I'm furious too, I mean he’s the son of one of my best friends, but acting out won't help Y/N. Let's take a moment to calm down before we discuss this further," your mother, though seething with anger, managed to handle the situation better than your father.
"But that's not enough! I mean I can’t even imagine the extent of humiliation the boy put our daughter through!" Flames still flickered in your father's eyes as he yelled out, but his body came to a halt, no longer headed for the front door.
"Mom's right, Dad. Having your photo splashed all over the news because you ended up murdering Jake won't help Y/N at all," Rosé’s words seemed to finally resonate with your father, causing him to turn back towards the living room. He let out a deep sigh of frustration before taking a moment to collect himself. Clearly, he was still angry, but he knew that his rash actions would do nothing but more harm to your already delicate situation. 
You could see right through your father; it was evident how utterly heartbroken he was beneath all the rage. He couldn't help but direct some of his anger towards himself for not being able to protect his baby girl. With gentle steps, you approached your father, who was hunched over on the couch. You knew that no words could alleviate his suffering, so you simply embraced him in a tight hug, offering a silent gesture of comfort and support.
Thanks to Jake, it felt like he had even managed to rob you of your winter break, the one thing you had hoped would provide a sense of normalcy. Since the first day back, your family had been making an effort to avoid bringing up anything that would make you uncomfortable while still trying to maintain the holiday spirit you were all too familiar with, but something felt off. Despite your parents' repeated emphasis that none of this was your fault, you couldn't help but still feel an overwhelming sense of shame, especially now that they were aware of the relationship you had with Jake and the extent of what you had allowed him to do to you. It was already embarrassing enough that your parents knew about your sex life, but to have them informed by the school about the sex tapes you had made with their best friend's child added a whole new level of humiliation. 
As expected, the usual Christmas dinner between your family and Jake's family wasn't happening this year. It was clear that the incident had strained the relationship your mother had with his, causing a noticeable rift between them. While Jake's family had expressed sincere apologies for their son's actions, you knew that rebuilding the close bond they once had would be a difficult task for everyone involved. 
However, what truly caused you the most internal struggle was the conflicting feelings you seemed to have toward Jake. Yes, you were still undeniably angry and upset with him, but a small part of you kept nagging at the back of your mind, making you think about him. The image of his absolutely worn-down look during your last encounter haunted you. It was a side of Jake you had never seen before – so broken and vulnerable, and it bothered you. Was he genuinely feeling guilt for everything he caused you to go through, or was it just a facade to deal with the consequences of his actions? You berated yourself for even having these thoughts, but they were hard to ignore. 
Despite not considering each other friends, the progress made in your relationship during the semester had surprised you. The glimpses of a different side to Jake had almost made you proud of the changes the two of you were seemingly making. So, to witness everything crumble away was painful. It seemed as though, against your better judgment, you had developed some level of care for Jake, and amid all the pain you were going through, you couldn't help but wonder about him. 
The internal turmoil left you questioning your own sanity. How could you find any compassion for someone who had caused you so much harm? It was a maddening contradiction that seemed to defy all logic.
The only time you felt fully comfortable confronting these thoughts was during your daily walks with your dog to the park near your house. Unlike everyone else in your life, Lady (your absolute sweetie pie 5-year-old cocker spaniel) not only held no judgment in her eyes and was the best listener, but she also knew the best way to comfort your conflicted heart: cuddles.
"I know you're probably sick of hearing me saying this, but it's just so hard for me to really understand what's going on." You let out a huge sigh that caused Lady to look back at you with eyes that conveyed concern. But before you could continue your rant, Lady seemed to be taken by something as her head whipped around, and she barked loudly.
A fluffy ball of fur could be seen barreling through the playground, and you started to recognize what was heading your way. It seemed as though Lady was quite aware too, as before you could even register what was happening, you found yourself being dragged across the playground where you were currently swinging, all thanks to your dog. You were all too familiar with the Sim's family dog, Layla, who seemed to have spotted you earlier and escaped from her owner. You hadn't seen her in a while, but she seemed extremely elated to be in your presence, immediately rolling on her back, hinting at you to rub her belly. Lady, too, was overjoyed to see her friend, barking and jumping around in excitement.
"Fuck, Layla, come back! Jesus, you can't just—" You heard his voice before you saw him, and Jake seemed much too preoccupied with getting his dog back to realize who Layla was running towards. His wide eyes and frozen state at your presence were a huge contrast to how he was back at your dorm when you last saw him.
"Shit, Y/N…" He muttered out before failing to find the rest of his words. His face flushed red, seemingly utterly confused about how to approach the situation. Clearly, neither of your dogs seemed to sense the distress coming off from their owners as they happily played with each other.
Unlike before, the feeling of panic and overwhelming anxiety seemed to be less present, replaced by a profound sense of confusion. Yes, initial anger surged within you upon seeing him, but there was also a part of you that wanted to take him in, to understand him. Dressed in a dark hoodie and sweatpants, he appeared disheveled, as if he had just rolled out of bed. The darkness that clouded his face persisted despite the sunny weather, and it was evident that he hadn't made much progress since before.
"I'm so sorry about Layla. She just darted out of nowhere. I guess she spotted you with Lady and got excited." As he mentioned her name, Lady finally seemed to recognize his presence,  instantly wagging her tail and nudging his leg, seeking affection. "Um, seriously, I'm so sorry about her. I-I'll just go."
However, before you could fully comprehend your own actions, you found yourself shaking your head. "Wait!" His eyes widened in surprise.
"Jake, hold on. Can we talk?" You weren't sure where this sudden urge came from, but you knew that earlier you weren't ready to face Jake. Now, however, you felt more prepared. You needed this. It was the least he owed you.
He appeared taken aback by your request, but after a moment of hesitation, he nodded. "Yeah, of course."
Your assumptions about his situation seemed to be accurate, as he was clearly not doing well. His parents were on the verge of kicking him out, unable to comprehend that their son was behind all of this, and his relationship with his brother was strained, with minimal communication between them. Moreover, he had failed almost all of his classes, save for one, and it appeared that his former friends had distanced themselves from him, not wanting to be associated with him. While a few of his teammates were still willing to hang out with him, he personally didn't want to be involved with them, knowing they were also complicit in what had happened. It was evident that his once highly regarded status and reputation were now completely shattered. 
His depression had reached an all-time low, and the idea of taking a break from school and not having to return back in a couple of weeks was incredibly tempting. After all, what was the point of resuming when he already had to take extra time to graduate due to his failing grades? However, he knew deep down that this decision wouldn't help repair his already strained relationship with his parents. Despite all this, as he spent his days moping around in bed, only one thing consumed his thoughts—you.
It was ironic how the person he had always seemed to despise was now dominating his mind but for entirely different reasons. Although it might be difficult to believe this sudden shift in his feelings towards you, Jake had come to a profound realization that his previous hatred had merely served as a facade for his true emotions. It had taken a long time for him to become aware of them, but now he was somehow enlightened. Jake wasn't entirely certain if what he felt could be called love or if it was perhaps a form of obsession, but one thing he was certain of was that the feelings he harbored for you were genuine. He found himself missing your smile, the scent of your perfume, and even the snarky quips you directed his way. 
Now, he understood why the saying "you never know what you have until it's gone" was so widely accepted, especially as he sat next to you on the swings. Every aspect of you captivated him, and he made a conscious effort to absorb every bit of you, unsure if this might be the last time he would have the opportunity to see you. You were utterly beautiful, and the mere thought of not being able to call you his brought tears to his eyes.
"I know my apology means very little to you, and it won't undo any of the damage I've caused, but I need to say it—I'm sorry." His words were sincere, and while he had been right that they wouldn’t erase the pain or fix anything, you had still been yearning to hear them directly from him.
You let out a sigh. "I just need to understand why. It’s no secret that we’ve never really been fond of each other, but I thought we were making progress. Have you really been hating me that much all this time?" Despite the joyful sounds of your dogs playing happily nearby, the atmosphere between you and Jake couldn't have been more different.
This question about his true feelings towards you had been haunting you at the core. If someone else had been responsible for the hurt you experienced, it would still be painful, but it somehow hurt more deeply when you realized it was Jake behind it all. You had known him your entire life, grown up together, and despite the ups and downs of your relationship, you took a chance trusting him with your most vulnerable self. For him to exploit that trust in such a cruel way felt like an unbearable betrayal.
"To be honest, I'm still grappling with that myself. As much as I want to deny it, the truth is that my stupid pride was at play when Jeongin was egging me on. At that moment, I prioritized my own ego and how I would appear in front of a group of guys I couldn't care less about. Y/N, I don't hate you. I don't think I ever truly did and in fact, I think it’s actually always been the opposite. I'm sorry." His confession made you frown, unable to immediately process what he was saying.
"Wait, what? Jake, you've spent most of our lives convincing me that you hated me. You can't just tell me now that you never actually hated me. I reciprocated those feelings because I believed it was mutual. If that wasn't the truth, then why did you torment me all this time?" The idea that Jake had never truly hated you should have brought some relief, but instead, it only added to your frustration.
"Damn it, I don't know. Deep down, I always knew I was in the wrong when we were kids and I cheated on you. I deserved that push off the monkey bars. But my pride got in the way, and it was easier for me to blame you than to admit my own faults. So, I continued messing with you, making you believe I hated you, rather than facing the truth. And now I realize how much I've lost. You were my best friend until that point, and I loved you. Losing you because of my foolish mistake was difficult to accept. And now, it seems we're in a similar situation. We were doing so well and I was starting to really fucking like you until I went and fucked it up again." Tears welled up in his eyes as he finally revealed the underlying reasons behind his actions.
He was sincere, and his guilt was evident, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of being upset. Growing up, girls were often told that if a boy picked on them, it was because they liked them, but that notion never sat well with you. Harassing someone you liked wasn't a display of love, and Jake's admission that he had perpetuated such a toxic stereotype only added to your disappointment. He could have chosen a different approach to express his true feelings, but instead, he resorted to hate, making you feel sorry for your younger self. While you were willing to participate in getting back at him, it was a result of your genuine upset and negative emotions towards his actions. If he had simply revealed that he was sorry and missed being friends with you, you would have readily welcomed him back into your life.
"Jake..." Your voice trailed off, struggling to find the right words as a surge of emotions overwhelmed you. "I don't think I can talk to you right now. I just need some time." Swiftly, you turned away from him and headed towards where Lady and Layla were joyfully playing. However, before you could get far, you heard his pleas and felt his hands grasp your wrist.
Jake desperately clutched on to your wrist, abandoning any pretense of holding back his tears as he begged. "Please, Y/N. I don't expect you to forgive me, because you don't owe me anything, especially cause of everything I’ve done to you but..."
You waited for him to finish his sentence, but his thoughts seemed jumbled and incomplete, prompting a sigh from you. "But what, Jake? I need time to process all of this. You've dropped a bombshell on me on top of everything you already put me through, and I can't easily understand or accept everything."
"You can take all the time you need, I beg you," he pleaded, cradling your hand and looking at you with desperation in his eyes. "I’ll do anything. I just can't bear to lose you again."
"Well, maybe you should have considered that before then."
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The winter break inched by painfully slow, leaving nothing memorable in its wake since your unexpected encounter with Jake at the park. Days melded into each other until school sneaked back into session, disrupting the monotony.
Jake continued spending the rest of his break under his covers, in a depressive state. While he honestly should be more worried about his future at HybeU as his GPA had plummeted and he was looking to take an extra year to graduate, but the only thing he could think about was you. Every waking moment he spent mulling over you and your tears and the way your eyes gazed at him in betrayal. You, who he’d spent most of his life convincing himself that he hated when he knew that wasn’t true. It was his fault that he lost you when you were younger and now again when given the golden opportunity to win you back, he fucked it up again. 
The decision of whether to return for the second semester hung over Jake until the day before school started when he reluctantly opted to go back in hopes of avoiding driving a further wedge between him and his parents. But now, regret gnawed at him for not taking time off, leaving him wallowing in a sea of misery.
The first week of classes turned out to be far worse than he had anticipated. His motivation dwindled, and the simple act of attending felt like a burdensome chore. No one acknowledged him, a stark contrast to the earlier days of the school year when greetings were abundant from those he passed. Even the professors seemed to have caught wind of it, their expressions carrying a tinge of disappointment. The constant scrutiny and sudden isolation became overwhelming, especially now that he resided alone, separated from the familiarity of the EpNu house he had grown accustomed to.
He caught sight of Sunghoon and Jay at the library the other day, messing around just like they always used to, making the librarian frown with their loud banter and laughter. Instantly, a wave of overwhelming upset crashed over him, compelling him to turn around and head straight back home. It felt like everyone else had moved on, leaving him adrift.
The only ones who seemed to make an effort were a few guys from the soccer team facing similar consequences. But he found himself pushing away their attempts to connect, stewing in a mix of anger and resentment. While he knew his actions were at fault, part of him blamed them for provoking him into hurting you. 
Meanwhile, your night on the other hand was taking a completely different turn from Jake's scene, with you slamming down your sixth shot and pulling a face at the vodka's harshness, quickly chasing it with cranberry juice.
“Shit! That’s so gross ugh,” you grimaced as you chased the vodka with the cranberry juice you held in your other hand. 
"Ugh, vodka’s always the worst," Ningning grimaced, grabbing your drink and downing it herself to mask the taste.
It was formal season, and this year, Epsilon Nu had gone all out, choosing New Orleans for the grand celebration. You were surrounded by many of your sisters (EpNu had patched things up with AES to a certain extent, especially after Jake’s suspension and once it became clear that none of the boys were involved in anything), all glammed up to the max. The city was alive, music blasting from the bar, adding to the thrilling chaos of the night—an ideal distraction.
"Fuck, Ningning, seriously, that dress was made for you! Jay better be all over you later at the hotel," you slurred, planting a tipsy kiss on her cheek.
She blushed, about to reply when someone crashed into you, their perfume giving away their identity.
"Wonyoung, seriously, stop it!" Jungwon's voice frantically followed, trying to separate her from you.
Well past midnight, it was evident that everyone was thoroughly intoxicated. But honestly, who could blame you? You were surrounded by some of your closest friends in a city known for its entertainment, far removed from Jake's world on campus. It felt like the first time in forever that genuine laughter filled the air, finally allowing you to escape thoughts of him.
"Been searching all over for you! Ugh Y/N, you can’t just leave me like that!" Jungwon struggled to peel his girlfriend away from you, but you didn’t mind her clinging.
"Ningning and I have been right here the whole time! You clearly didn't look hard enough," you giggled, feeling the warmth from one too many drinks.
Your feet were throbbing in the stilettos you had on, and your body felt damp from the sweat of dancing and the drink you accidentally spilled earlier (thank goodness for the black dress). You knew your makeup was probably smudged, no longer as flawless as it had been for those pre-party photos. Your ears were practically ringing from the deafening noise of the bar and you were already dreading the miserable bus ride back home tomorrow, but honestly, in this high you were feeling right now, you couldn't care less.
“Where’s Beomgyu hyung?” Jungwon asked which made you realize that you’d lost your date. 
The party beads around your neck jingled softly as you whipped your head around, scanning the crowded space. Failing to spot him, a slight pout formed on your lips. "I don't know, I think I lost him. I'm gonna go find him," you declared, pushing yourself away from Wonyoung and heading away from the bar before protests from your friends could be heard.
Finding him in this crowd, especially in your tipsy state amid similarly dressed people, turned out to be quite the challenge. But then, as you glanced towards a dimly lit corner off to the side, your eyes widened in realization. There he was—Beomgyu, engaged in conversation with Sunghoon, Jay, and Yeonjun, oblivious to your presence. As you approached them, amid the bar's clamor, you could pick up on snippets of their conversation.
"He looked absolutely miserable, like I almost didn't recognize him," Sunghoon's voice pierced through the noise.
You frowned as you inched closer to them, careful not to reveal yourself yet eager to hear more of their conversation.
"Yeah, I've heard a few people mentioning how he hardly shows up to class anymore, and I don't even know if he has any friends left. Wouldn't surprise me if he didn't," Yeonjun remarked nonchalantly, taking a sip from his cup which you were sure was filled with some kind of alcohol.
"Well fuck him. He brought this all on himself and deserves it, and now he's probably just wallowing in self-pity," Beomgyu's disdain dripped from his words as he rolled his eyes. To him, Jake was nothing but a sorry excuse for a human being, and he couldn't help but feel angry that he had once considered him a brother.
"Yeah, he deserves everything he's getting, but you guys don't get it. He looked awful," Jay interjected, acknowledging Beomgyu's sentiments while also sharing his own observations from his and Sunghoon’s encounter with Jake at the library.
Sunghoon nodded in agreement, his expression troubled. "We're not trying to excuse his actions, but you should've seen him. It was beyond concerning, like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks. He used to be our best friend, so yeah, we're fucking furious with him, but we can't help but feel a little worried."
"No, I can't believe this," Beomgyu shook his head in disbelief at Jay and Sunghoon's concern for Jake. "I don't know if you guys realize, but he ruined Y/N. She went through hell, and even though she might seem okay now, it's all an act. The things people are still saying about her are fucking insane. Winter and I practically had to drag her onto the bus to get here because we felt like we needed to do something to lift her spirits."
Yeonjun scoffed in annoyance, joining the conversation. "Yeah, you guys need to realize that while Jake may be struggling, it's nothing compared to what Y/N went through. Don't fucking bring this up again, at least not until we're back on campus."
And with that, Beomgyu stormed off, followed by Yeonjun while Sunghoon and Jay exchanged weary sighs, shaking their heads in resignation. The effects of alcohol seemed to evaporate from your system as their conversation sank in, leaving you painfully sober.
You should have been rejoicing in Jake's suffering, but instead, a sickening taste lingered in your mouth, refusing to dissipate throughout the rest of the night. Even as you returned to your hotel room, the intensity of your thoughts about Jake seemed to amplify. While Beomgyu softly snored beside you, you laid still on the bed, unable to escape the swirling whirlwind of emotions the thought of him had stirred within you.
This feeling didn’t seem to leave you as the bus ride back to school was filled with laughter and chatter, but even then, Jake continued to haunt the recesses of your mind. You felt guilty for allowing yourself to harbor such conflicted thoughts about him. How could you feel sympathy for the man who had shattered you in the worst possible way? Yet, shamefully, his presence persisted in your thoughts, a constant reminder of the turmoil he had inflicted upon you. 
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"What's up with you?" Wonyoung's voice pierced through your thoughts, jolting you back to reality.
You quickly shook your head, trying to brush off her concern. "Nothing, what do you mean?"
But Wonyoung wasn't buying it. "Stop lying. I know you better than anyone, and I can tell something's been bothering you ever since formal. So, what's going on?"
You hesitated, debating whether to confide in her. Wonyoung was your best friend, but you feared her reaction to your shameful empathy towards Jake. She wouldn't understand. "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry about it," you insisted, hoping to brush off the conversation.
Her frown deepened, and you knew she wouldn't let it go. "Y/N, I'm serious. What's going on? I promise I won't judge; just talk to me."
With a heavy sigh, you relented, knowing her stubborn nature wouldn’t leave you alone till you told her. "Okay, fine. But you have to swear not to get mad or make me feel worse about it, because I already feel terrible," you requested, seeking her assurance. She nodded, prompting you to continue.
"During formal, I overheard a couple of the EpNu boys talking about Jake. They saw him at the library, and apparently, he looked really rough," you began, sensing Wonyoung's urge to interject but you gave her a warning look to let you finish. "Like, he apparently looked so bad that they barely recognized him, and he seemed like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks. He already looked bad enough the last time I saw him, so I can’t even imagine what he probably looks like right now. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I'm worried, and I can't stop thinking about it, especially considering all the stuff he said when we ran into each other at the playground. I really-"
Wonyoung's reaction cut you off abruptly. "Wait, what do you mean you saw him at the playground? You didn't mention this! When was this? Are you okay?"
You cursed inwardly, realizing you hadn't shared this with anyone and hadn't really planned on doing so. "Shit, I forgot to tell you. I'm sorry," you apologized, offering her a sincere look before continuing, "We just ran into each other at one of the nearby parks during the break while walking our dogs. He wanted to talk, so I listened. He started apologizing, and then he started revealing things, like how he never actually hated me when we were younger and actually liked me. It was overwhelming, so I walked away, and I haven't seen him since."
Wonyoung's mouth hung open in shock. "And you forgot to mention this? Oh my fucking God, this is insane. He's actually fucking crazy, isn't he? Does he think confessing to you after what he did is going to fix anything? You're not buying into this, are you?"
"No, of course not," you asserted, your voice wavering with emotion. "Well, actually, he did seem genuine about being sorry and liking me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to forgive him. I swear I'm not. But the thing is, I can't stop thinking about him. Wonyoung, I don't think you understand. I fucking hate myself right now because all I can think about is him. I hate him so much for what he did to me, but why am I feeling this way?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you finally let out the pent-up emotions, laying bare your inner turmoil to her.
"Oh, honey," Wonyoung's face softened as she rose from her seat and approached you, enveloping you in a comforting hug as you sobbed into her embrace. "You're right, I have no idea what you're going through, and I fucking hate Jake so much for hurting my best friend in the worst way possible. But I also can't ignore the fact that you just admitted how you can't stop thinking about him."
There was a brief pause before she sighed and gently broke the hug, facing you with a serious expression. "Y/N, do you maybe like Jake?"
Her question caught you completely off guard, and a baffled look crossed your face as you almost jerked in surprise. "What?"
You started to shake your head, but she quickly interjected before you could even deny. "Y/N, just listen. I know this might sound insane, but have you considered that maybe you're experiencing this immense guilt and can't stop thinking about him because you have feelings for him?"
The moment Wonyoung uttered those words, panic surged through you like a tidal wave, causing your breathing to quicken as you vehemently shook your head in denial. There was no way.
"No, what the actual fuck, Wonyoung," you choked out, tears welling up in your eyes as you rose from your seat, needing to put distance between yourself and her. "Why would you even suggest that?"
Wonyoung could see you on the verge of hyperventilating, and she reached out to try to calm you down. "Hey, hey, Y/N, come on, sit down, please," she urged gently. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to upset you. I just think that you're going through so much right now, and from what you just told me, you're conflicted and in a really difficult place. We don't choose who we love, and I think it's weighing heavily on you right now, maybe that's what happened with Jake. He's put you through so much, not just this year, but practically your whole life, and maybe coming to terms with that despite everything, you still fell for him, is creating this guilt within you. It's not your fault, and for fuck's sake, Jake would be the last person I would choose for you to love, because he will never deserve someone like you. But I'm not in charge of that, and I'm so sorry."
In that moment, you broke down completely, your sobs wracking your body as you clung to your friend, desperate for some semblance of solace. Deep down, you knew she was right. You'd been grappling with these feelings for Jake for longer than you cared to admit, and the realization terrified you. You despised yourself for loving him.
"Wonyoung... What do I do?" you whimpered softly, your voice tinged with fear.
"I don't know, Y/N," Wonyoung replied gently, her own voice filled with empathy. "But I promise you're not alone. We'll get through this together."
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You hadn't set foot in any of the downtown bars since that night when you learned about what Jake had done after being harassed by those guys. The thought of returning made you uncomfortable, yet on this Saturday night, with seemingly everyone in your friend group going out, you decided to push yourself to socialize, to reclaim some sense of normalcy in the chaos of your year. However, it quickly became evident that your judgment wasn’t the soundest; you were already feeling miserable, and it wasn't even midnight.
You had arrived with Winter and Ningning, meeting their boyfriends at the bar. But as the night wore on, you lost track of them. Winter was beyond drunk, likely off somewhere making out with Felix, while Ningning and Jay were lost in their own world on the dance floor. Unlike their blissfully intoxicated selves, you felt painfully sober. You longed for Wonyoung's presence; she was away for the weekend with Jungwon visiting his parents, and you regretted accepting the invitation to go out. 
Sighing, unable to immerse yourself in the same mood as your friends, you downed the shot of tequila in front of you before gathering your stuff and making your way to the exit. You made sure to send Winter a text, explaining that you weren't feeling well and were heading home, urging her to enjoy herself and not to worry. Just as you were about to summon an Uber though, an unfamiliar voice called out your name, halting you in your tracks.
At first, the voice seemed like a distant echo, easily dismissed amidst the clamor of the bar. But when it persisted, calling your name again, you couldn't ignore it any longer.
"Hey, Y/N!"
Turning abruptly, you were met with a face that you really didn’t ever want to see. He was obviously in a very intoxicated state; his words slurred, and his movements unsteady as he stumbled toward you.
"Hey, where're you going so fast? Have somewhere to be?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face as if you were close friends.
"Fuck off Jeongin." You curtly spat at him as you attempted to walk away.
He scoffed, his laughter tinged with bitterness. "Jesus Christ, Y/N, is that all you got to say to me after getting me fucking suspended?"
His words sent a chill down your spine, and you whipped your head around to address him. "I don’t know what you’re talking about because I didn’t do anything to get you suspended, but seriously, leave me alone," you angrily told him. As you attempted to walk away once more, you felt his hand reach out and harshly grab your wrist.
"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?" His tone turned menacing, the overpowering scent of alcohol made you grimace. "Aren’t you cute trying to act like you have no idea what you’ve done?"
His grip tightened on your wrist, sending waves of pain shooting through your arm as you struggled to break free. Panic surged within you as you realized he wasn't going to let you leave. "Let go of me! I have no idea what you're talking about. If anything, you’re the one who did this to me!"
"Listen here you bitch, because of your stupid little act of trying to paint yourself as some poor little victim, my fucking future is ruined. So this little act of you trying to act like you have no idea what I’m talking about isn’t going to cut it. You’re going to fucking pay, it’s the least you deserve,” he snarled, his grip on your wrist tightening as he dragged you out of the bar. You fought back, but his anger seemed to fuel his strength.
“You’re fucking hurting me! Seriously let me go you asshole!” you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear as you struck his arm.
“If you don’t shut the fuck—”
“Let her go, Jeongin.” The interruption came from a familiar voice, causing both you and Jeongin to turn toward the source.
Despite it only being about three months that had passed since you last saw him, Jake looked almost unrecognizable. His hair was longer and a bit unkempt, and he wore plain sweats and a hoodie. Yet, there was no mistaking him.
“Fuck off, Jake. Mind your own fucking business,” Jeongin spat, his disdain evident in his tone.
“You made it my fucking business once you dragged her into whatever you’re doing. So fucking let go of her,” Jake asserted, his voice laced with fury as he approached.
“What? You still fucking pussy whipped for her, huh?” Jeongin harshly threw your wrist away, turning to face Jake. “From what I know, aren’t you also in the same position as I am because of this bitch?”
“Don’t fucking call her that, and the only reason you’re in this position is because you put yourself there. So leave her out of this and go home, you’re drunk. It’s pathetic,” Jake shot back, his anger palpable.
“You’re in no place to be calling anyone pathetic. I mean, look at yourself. Newsflash, she’s a fucking whore! Jake, it’s honestly embarrassing to watch you throw yourself for what? A girl who obviously doesn’t give a shit about you. In fact, I did you a favor, she deserved this. I mean, she’s been so passed around she’s literally like a—” Before Jeongin could finish his drunken rant, he was knocked out cold. Jake's fist met his face in a swift, furious blow.
“Jake!” You gasped in shock, watching as Jeongin crumpled to the dirty street.
“He fucking deserved it,” Jake snarled, his rage barely contained. But before he could do further damage, you reached for his arm.
“Hey, he’s already out, just let it go,” you urged, tugging Jake away as you tried to diffuse his anger.
He turned to you, and in that moment, it was as if his anger melted away, replaced by concern as he took you in. You looked stunning, your eyes filled with worry for him, and Jake couldn't help but once again be struck by the realization of what he had lost.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice was gentle as he reached for your wrist, handling you delicately as if you were made of glass.
You furrowed your brows, concern evident in your features. “I’m fine, seriously. But Jake, you hit him really hard. Are you sure you didn’t break anything?”
Only then did Jake become aware of the ache in his knuckles, the pain radiating through his hand. He winced slightly as you reached to inspect his injured hand.
“You need to get that checked,” you insisted, but Jake shook his head stubbornly.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just ice it and it’ll be fine,” he assured, but you rolled your eyes at his attempt to brush it off.
“Ok fine, let’s go then,” you relented, letting out a sigh and crossing your arms.
Jake gave you a confused look before shaking his head. “I’m fine, Y/N, just go home. It’s late.”
“Jake, I’ll leave once you’re done icing your hand, so let’s go,” you insisted firmly. Knowing you wouldn't budge easily, he relented
“Jesus Christ, Y/N, fine. Let’s go,” he let out another sigh, closing his eyes briefly before nodding and the two of you walked away from the bar, turning left after walking a bit into what seemed to be the entrance of one of the student apartments located downtown.
Quietly, you followed him to the elevator, the tension palpable between you. After a while, Jake broke the silence. “Why were you out alone anyway?”
“Oh, I wasn’t alone. Well, I didn’t come alone, but everyone got really drunk and went off on their own, and I just wasn’t feeling it, so I was trying to go home when Jeongin ambushed me,” you explained, picking at your fingers nervously.
“Wait, so they just ditched you? Who’d you go out with? That’s not safe at all and in fact really dangerous—”
“No, they didn’t ditch me. They were dancing and all, and like I said, I just wanted to go home, so I left. You know damn well Winter and Ningning would never ditch me,” you clarified, rolling your eyes. Thankfully, the elevator dinged, cutting off any further discussion on the matter.
“So, how’s living alone?” you asked, eager to change the topic as you followed him down the hall to his apartment.
He let out a disgruntled grunt. “As lonely as you can expect it to be.” Fishing for his keys in his pocket, he winced a little at the pain his knuckle was giving him. Maybe you were right; it was starting to hurt like a bitch.
“Yeah, I guess going from living with a bunch of guys to being by yourself can be a huge adjustment,” you nodded in agreement. 
Despite the awkwardness in the air, you found yourself surprised at how calm you were feeling in Jake's presence. Given the strain in your relationship over the past few months, you had anticipated the reunion to be much more uncomfortable, especially seeing how the last encounter went, but it wasn't as bad as you had imagined. In fact, you felt lucky that he had run into you and Jeongin; if he hadn't been there, you weren't sure how you would have gotten out of that situation.
“Well, here it is,” Jake said, opening the door to his apartment and gesturing for you to enter. It was a clean studio, cleaner than you had expected, though it seemed he had only the bare essentials.
“Oh, it’s actually really nice,” you remarked, taking in the space as you set your purse down on the island.
Jake chuckled softly as he reached for the fridge to grab some ice for his hand. “What, you weren’t expecting it to be?”
“Oh no, it’s just... I don’t know,” you trailed off, unsure of what you had expected Jake's living space to be like. You hadn't really thought much about his living arrangements; your mind had been preoccupied with other matters, particularly your feelings toward him.
“I just overheard a couple of the EpNu boys talking about how they saw you and you weren’t in the best shape, so I didn’t really expect your apartment to be in the best shape as well,” you truthfully told him. Jake didn’t respond for a couple of seconds, just taking in what you said as he iced his hand.
“Sunghoon and Jay?” he asked, and you nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know... I guess they’re right. I haven’t really been doing the best, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be living like a slob. It’s already depressing enough.” Jake couldn’t meet your gaze. Both of you knew why he had reached this point, and he didn’t want to see any disgust reflected in your eyes towards him.
“Jake, can we talk, for real this time? I know we saw each other during the break, but I think that was just way too soon, and we were both just dealing with so much emotion to fully hold a coherent conversation,” you sighed, finally broaching the subject you had been avoiding. But you knew there would be no better opportunity than now to talk with him. You needed to, at least for yourself.
He nodded before answering, “Uhm, yeah, of course, but if you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to. I can just drive you back home.”
“No, I want to. I think I need to, and it’s the least I deserve,” you insisted. He nodded again, leading you to the couch.
Jake nervously bit his lip before sighing, facing you squarely. “Y/N, I just want to start by saying I’m sorry. I know you’re probably tired of hearing it, but I really mean it. I've had a lot of time to myself to reflect on everything, and I know that simply saying sorry will never be enough to make up for what I’ve done to you.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “I just can’t even begin to imagine what I put you through, and I’m just so fucking sorry for that. Hearing the awful things people have been saying about you, knowing it’s because of me, it’s just... it's horrible and so upsetting. You don’t deserve any of this. I know we haven’t always gotten along but you have always been a constant in my life and these past few months without you have made me realize the full extent of the pain I caused you. I ended up hurting the person I fell in love with in the worst way imaginable.”
Jake's confession to you brought tears to your eyes as your lips quivered. To hear those words from him ached your heart. It took you a moment to look up at him and regain your breath before you could respond.
“Jake, I know you didn’t send those videos out in the first place, but you were being so fucking stupid, and that ended up costing everything. You’re right, you don’t know what I’ve been through these past few months, because it’s been hell. But I’ve also been suffering not just because of the humiliation from classmates or just knowing that there’s a sex tape of us out there for everyone to see, but it has been so hard coming to terms with the fact that amidst all this, I had also somehow fallen for you. You ruined something that could’ve been so good, and that fucking hurts.”
"I miss you so much, Y/N, so fucking much it hurts. I'm sorry." A tear made its way down Jake’s face, and you couldn’t help but reach out for his hand because you couldn’t help but feel the same way.
“Jake, I don’t know what to do,” you softly said while looking at your intertwined hands.
Jake breathed heavily, “I don’t know either, but Y/N, I’m not expecting you to forgive me. I’ll be spending the rest of my life working for that, but I don’t know if I can go on living like this. I feel so empty without you, like I’m hollow inside and it aches like-”
You just couldn’t listen to him any longer. It hurt too much to see him like this. It hurt you too much to be away from him and so you did the only thing you could think to do. You kissed him.
Jake was obviously taken aback as he stood frozen on the couch, unable to reciprocate or even process what you had done. But your lips eased him as he slowly started to move against them. It was like he was riding a bike again, with muscle memory kicking in. The two of you got closer as your bodies touched one another, deepening the kiss. His hands made their way around your face, cupping them softly as if he was handling delicate porcelain, and you reached for his neck, pulling him closer as you wanted to feel more of him. You had missed this beyond words. You had missed him beyond anything.
As the kiss started to get more heated, you felt Jake slowly pull away, leaving you confused. “Wait, wait, Y/N, shouldn’t we think about this?”
He was right. You should, as every cell in your body was screaming at you about how big of a mistake this was. But right now, you couldn’t give a damn. “Can we just talk about this after? Please, I just need you right now. It’s been so long.”
Jake looked sincerely into your eyes, making sure you were sure of your decision before he gave a small nod and reached for you again.
Your lips moved against one another as if they’d been starved for each other and you quickly moved your body on top of his, straddling him as your mouth opened, letting more of him in. Quiet moans could be heard as you slowly moved your hips down on him while his hands made their way down to cup your ass. 
His lips detached from yours but before you could complain, they reattached themselves to your neck, nipping at your soft spot as you softly moaned. You had been wearing only a thin black slip dress so you could feel the hairs on your body all rise as chills went down your spine. 
As his lips moved their way down your neck, you palmed at his hoodie, “Take it off.”
He obliged with no hesitation and in one swift motion, his bare torso laid before you. Fuck, you had missed him. He looked as gorgeous as ever despite everything and you couldn’t help but rake your eyes over him, taking him all in. 
His patience got to him though as he yanked you down, bringing your lips together again. His fingers played with the bottom of your dress and before you knew it, that too was getting yanked off.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered. You had forgone wearing a bra and so you were only left in a small black thong. You looked like a little present perfectly wrapped for him. 
You gave him a soft smile before reaching for him. You started to kiss your way down his neck to his chest, eliciting another groan from him, but before you could go further, he pulled you up. You shot him a quick look of confusion but he dismissed it. “Next time, I just need you right now.”
Jake got up from the couch, helping you up as well before guiding you backward a couple of steps to his bed. You laid back as you watched him take the rest of his clothing off. Your mouth was watering and to be honest, you hadn’t slept with anyone in a while and you hadn’t realized how badly you had been craving this until now.
He quickly made his way back to you and the two of you attached your lips once more, moving against each other as if you had been starved. One of his hands made its way down to your breast, softly kneading it, as the other hand went further down before reaching under your thong. 
His finger softly glossed over your entrance as you gasped, aching for more. You were wet, beyond soaking and it made Jake harder than ever. He gently played with your pussy before slowly entering a finger. 
You were just as warm as ever as your soft gummy walls sucked him in and your soft mewls were enough to instigate him to start moving his finger slowly. You tightly pulled at his hair as you continued panting into his mouth.
“Babe, you’re soaking,” he smirked a little before kissing you again. His finger was now steadily moving inside you as he teased another.
“Please, Jake please,” you moaned, seeking more of him.
He gave in to your pleas as he added a second finger, stretching you further. You already felt incredibly tight and Jake felt like he was losing his mind. He couldn’t bear to go further without fully being inside you so he pulled his fingers out before yanking your thong down and spreading your legs open.
“Jesus, you’re so beautiful. The absolute prettiest.” Jake praised you before taking his cock and lining it with your entrance. Feeling his tip alone was too much of a tease for you and you whined. 
“Just put it in, please.” He gave in to your plea as he plunged inside of you. 
Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as your mouth opened wide. You felt like you were about to burst with how full he was making you feel. 
“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Jake clenched his jaw, taking in how you felt around him. You were made for him and he couldn’t wait any longer. 
His thrusts were hard and powerful, making sure you felt him everywhere. Your soft pants turned to loud moans as you couldn’t hold them back any longer. He felt too good, plunging deep inside you, hitting against your cervix. Your toes curled and your hands reached for his shoulders to hold on to as he pummeled himself in and out of you.
“Jake, fuck! It’s too good,” you cried out. Tears were forming in your eyes from the pleasure. 
Sweat dripped down his back as Jake continued to thrust into you. He could feel himself getting closer every time you clenched around him and he reached down to capture your lips in his once more. 
Sounds of skin slapping against each other while lewd noises of tongues moving against each other filled Jake’s small apartment as the air around the two of you grew thicker. You knew you were getting close as you could feel the familiar coil below your belly on the verge of snapping.
“Fuck, Jake, I’m almost there, keep going,” you urged him as you maintained eye contact with him. His eyes were raging with fire as your words had him thrusting into you harder. 
Then the splintering feeling came crashing down on you as you clenched around him tightly. It was too good as the world around you spun while all the noise cut out. You let out a whimper as your toes curled tightly and back arched while you finished. 
The sight of you cumming was beyond heavenly and Jake chased quickly after his release. You were limp against him, softly mewling at the overstimulation as he continued to hammer into you before finally cumming inside of you. His deep groan in your ear had you clenching around him one last time as you felt him slump over you. 
The two of you panted loudly, trying to catch your breath as you stayed in your embrace. Your mind had been thoroughly blown, and this moment solidified just how much you had missed Jake. You never wanted to leave his embrace; it was where your raging mind and racing heart seemed to find stillness. Despite everything that had happened, you still yearned for this, and for the first time in a couple of months, you felt some semblance of clarity.
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Your eyes fluttered open, and at first, you were confused as you took in your surroundings. But the events of last night quickly came back to you as you spotted Jake’s now bruised knuckles, his arm wrapped around you.
Tightly closing your eyes, you sighed, knowing that sleeping with Jake had just further complicated an already complicated situation. But no matter how much you tried to paint it as a mistake, you really couldn’t. You simply couldn’t change the fact that you had missed him deeply despite everything.
Feeling too hot under the comforter and the body heat emanating from Jake, you decided to quietly get up, gently moving his arm off of you to avoid waking him up. You searched around for your clothes but quickly realized that you had only worn your dress and there was no way you were getting back into that right now. So, you opted for Jake’s hoodie that was discarded on the floor last night.
You heard rustling from the bed, and when you turned around, you saw that Jake was half awake as he rose up from the bed. His hair was disheveled, and he rubbed his eyes before they laid themselves on you. He seemed surprised that you were still there.
“I thought you’d have been gone by now,” he murmured as he too searched around for his clothes.
You shrugged. “Running away from this would make it even worse.” It was true; what the two of you had done last night definitely wasn’t smart or ideal, but it had happened, and the two of you needed to deal with it.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jake nodded, then asked, “You’re not regretting it?”
You shook your head. “Honestly, no. But Jake, I hope you realize that this doesn’t mean I forgive you for everything.”
“No, I know, I wouldn’t expect you to. But I hope you also realize that what I said yesterday is all true.” He walked towards you, taking both your hands in his as he peered into your eyes. “I love you, Y/N, and I’m not just saying that to get you to forgive me. I mean it.”
You looked deep into his eyes, searching for any signs of deceit, but found none. All you could do was nod. “Okay.”
“So what does this mean for us?” Jake’s question lingered in your mind. What did it mean? It was already established that the two of you loved each other, but you also couldn’t just overlook what he had done.
“I’m not sure, Jake,” you sighed. “I think we need to start over.”
Jake nodded. “Okay, and what does that mean?”
“I think you and I both know that we can’t date each other right now. That relationship would be fucked up the second we do. I think we need some time to maybe rebuild our relationship on a blank slate.” You scanned Jake’s face, hoping to gauge how he was feeling about your suggestion.
“Okay, a blank slate, that works for me.” This was more than he had expected you to give him, and it meant there was hope for the two of you. It was all he could ask for.
“Jake, you need to get your act together with school, your friends, and your parents. I don’t want you fucking up everything because of this one mistake. Yeah, it was a huge one, but what’s done is done and it can’t derail your entire life. And once you feel like you’re back on the right track, then maybe we can start over again.” You peered at him deeply, and he sighed. He knew you were right. His life had been so fucked up for the past few months, and he knew he had to straighten it out before even thinking about pursuing anything with you.
“I will, I promise. Thank you, Y/N, and I know I’ll be working for what I did to you for the rest of my life and that I’m nowhere close to being deserving of your forgiveness or even this. So I promise I’ll make it up to you and get my life back together. I love you.” Jake nodded as he cupped your face in his hands before giving you a kiss on your forehead.
You hugged him, and the two of you stayed in that embrace for a bit until you pulled back. “Wonyoung’s never going to forgive you for this, you know that? But I’ll be willing to work on her if you just show me that you’re genuine about this and working on yourself.”
And from the moment Jake dropped you back at your dorm, he did just as he promised you. For the first time in a while, he found himself eagerly making his way down to the library to get some work done for his classes, and while he knew it was a long shot, he texted Sunghoon and Jay. They were his best friends, and they also hadn’t deserved the betrayal Jake had put them through; they deserved a real apology. Jake was determined to change.
Slowly but steadily, it seemed to be working. Every now and then, you’d see him in the hall or at the library, and you would exchange waves or smiles. Each time, he looked like he was doing much better. You had also heard through the grapevine that he had been trying his best to mend each of the relationships he had with the EpNu brothers. Of course, not everyone had been as receptive or even willing, but everyone knew that he was atleast making an effort.
Long before you knew it, the year was ending, and while the back half of your semester didn’t bring you much excitement, you actually preferred it that way. After all that had happened, you didn’t need any more drama in your life. And honestly, you couldn’t complain. You still had your best friend by your side, along with a couple of other friends you had made along the way, whom you knew you would have for the rest of your life. Plus, you ended the year with pretty good grades, considering everything that had happened. The gossip and hate you initially received had pretty much died down, and honestly, you believed this was the best outcome that could have happened.
"I think we did alright, don’t you agree Lady?" Your sweetheart of a dog barked excitedly, as if she was agreeing with what you had said. But before you could say anything further, Lady's attention was taken as you saw a familiar ball of fur make her way towards the swingset where you and Lady were. Lady seemed to disregard you the second she spotted her friend and started excitedly chasing after Layla.
You watched the two of them playing with each other, a smile growing on your face. A few seconds later, you felt a presence on the swings next to you. You knew exactly who it was before you even turned to face him.
“Hey,” he said softly, offering you a smile as he extended his hand for a handshake. “I’m Jake. Nice to meet you.”
A smile as bright as the sun spread across your face as you shook his hand. “Hey Jake, I’m Y/N. It’s great to meet you.”
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terastalungrad · 3 months
Text
Sometimes, you’re a comedian with a touring show to promote, so you do an interview with a regional newspaper.
I think that’d be the funniest possible time to reveal a big scoop, wouldn’t it?
Stewart Lee is currently touring, and to promote his Yeovil performance, gave an interview to Blackmore Vale Magazine.  According to Wikipedia, the Blackmore Vale is an area of north Dorset, south Somerset and southwest Wiltshire.  According to the comedian Jake Baker, the magazine would cover his school sports day as he grew up in Dorset.  That’s the level of news you’d expect.
The questions are friendly and easy, from a journalist clearly familiar with Lee’s work and history.
The first question is about the show’s angle.  Lee describes the nature of the show, and here’s an excerpt:
So it looks like stand-up, and sounds like stand-up, but it’s actually a kind of character piece about a desperate person who’s frightened and trying to organise the world in a way that puts them in control. And I guess you could argue that’s what a lot of stand-ups are doing anyway. Ricky Gervais to me looks like a very frightened man. He’s frightened of transgender people coming after him, the act is a defensive wall.
Fun!  This is a Ricky Gervais hate blog, so it’s nice to see a sudden, unexpected attack in an unrelated promotional interview.
Lee mentions Gervais again in response to question four.
Sometimes I become bitter and think ‘I get all this good press, why can’t I get 10 million quid for a TV special like Ricky Gervais?’ But on the other hand, I wouldn’t want that audience, it wouldn’t allow me to be better.
And then again to question eight, where Lee explains why he spends six months running new shows in the relatively small Leicester Square Theatre (as opposed to arena comics who might do 10 warmup shows followed by 60 tour dates).
You can still run it like a club gig, you can interact with people in real time. Also, you wouldn’t get better at the show because you wouldn’t have done it as many times. You can see this with an act like Gervais. Those shows have not been run in, they’re not fluid, they’re a succession of inflexible statements that would snap like twigs if the pressure of an unforeseen event was applied to them.
The journalist finally addresses this head on.  It really is worth reading the entire article - there’s a lot more than I’m quoting, including an interesting story about Sean Lock:
But here are my favourite bits:
[Gervais] still kind of copies me though, which is the weird thing. There’s still a lot of cadences of what I do but they’re used in the service of evil. In Star Wars, he’s Darth Vader and he’s taken the force, which is me, and used it for evil purposes. He was a fanboy, he was actually the booker at University of London and used to book me and Sean Lock all the time. And when he became famous for the Office, he wrote an hour-long act that was so indebted to us it was awkward. [...] If he’d come up through the circuit that would have been rubbed off him because you find your own voice doing club gigs. It took me two years of gigging five nights a week to come through the mesh of things I liked. But he didn’t have that experience in the same way. [...] Funnily enough, in his first show there were bits I’d never recorded that he’d do almost verbatim. He’d clearly remembered them. I went to see him at the Bloomsbury – on his invitation actually – with my then girlfriend and she was very concerned for me. I’d given up at that point due to lack of interest, and she was concerned for what it felt like to see my act being done to hundreds of people, it was quite weird. On the other hand, that sort of did make me think I don’t want it to be consumed into someone else’s vocabulary. And also, I think because he had a residual sense of guilt, he would always credit me in interviews as being an influence – that helped me in 2004 to get the audience back.
This is, to my knowledge, the first time Lee’s ever claimed that Gervais stole his material.  He’s certainly talked about Gervais clearly taking influence from him (though in the past, he downplayed this compared to the account given in this interview).
It’s a pretty big thing to accuse a comic of stealing material.  That’s a big taboo.  I reckon this is partly because Lee wants to discourage fans of Gervais from coming to the show.
Anyway, let’s finish by quoting the end of the interview:
It must be strange to have that level of financial remuneration and those audience figures but not really a single good review. And I expect what that does for you is create a cognitive dissonance where you have to manufacture a worldview by which the whole world is wrong and you’re right. Which can’t necessarily be very good for your mental health, although I expect the money’s nice.
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ficmotel · 1 month
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Lives Changed
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part one
4.5k words
read part two here
summary: eddie receives a deal of a lifetime, while reader is put through a life altering position. Their lives are changing, just not together.
warnings: pregnancy, break ups, just all angst
Eddie Munson had been everything to you, your boyfriend of two years, the love of your life and the man you had wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You had your future with him planned out from the first date, that was until it had all come falling down.
You had just graduated High School, Eddie was about to repeat his second senior year. It was a Sunday morning in the middle of August. A simple Sunday morning, before both your lives would change forever.
You had been feeling nauseous and tired for a few weeks, and had decided to run to the pharmacy for something you never thought you would have to buy at eighteen . A pregnancy test. It wasn’t far from the realm of possibility for you to be pregnant, You and Eddie were passionate to say the least. So there you sat on the floor of your bathroom and waited the ten minutes for the pregnancy test to give you your results.
While waiting you thought for the first time about the possibility of a baby. To be a mother, you never hated the idea especially if it was with Eddie, but now? at eighteen ? You had just gotten accepted to University, could you really let that go? It was a crazy thought. If you were being honest you weren’t that worried about it, fully denying the possibility. You were prone to overthinking, it was something that had caused problems for you and Eddie in the beginning of your relationship before you learned to trust each other, to communicate. So you thought it was just that. You, thinking too much.
Though the two blue lines on the pregnancy test before you proved your worries to be true. You were pregnant.
To be sure you decided to take five more, all with the same results. There was no denying it now, you were a hundred percent pregnant. Tears streamed down your face as you stared at the five positive tests. Terrified was an understatement on how you were feeling.
You weren’t ready to be a mom. Oh my god! your mom was going to kill you, she herself had gotten pregnant at a young age. Having to raise you all by herself, she had always warned you to be careful, it was something she always said every time you left to spend time with Eddie. She was going to be so disappointed in you.
Your body began to shake with how hard you were crying, but your thoughts then turned to Eddie. Your understanding and loving boyfriend, as you thought about it you knew that with Eddie by your side, you could get through anything. Or that’s what you thought.
While you were on your bathroom floor, with tears flowing down your face, surrounded by pregnancy tests. Thinking about how different your life would be from this moment on. Eddie was at his trailer surrounded by his bandmates thinking the same thing but instead of fear or uncertainty, he was feeling the exact opposite.
For the first time he felt true certainty for himself, he felt joy and hope for the future. For a second did he think of you through the smiles and joy but when he did he only felt panic. So he pushed it aside, it was a happy moment. He needed a happy moment for once because for Eddie Munson, his Sunday morning didn’t consist of pharmacy visits, pregnancy tests or tears. It was him and his bandmates and a phone call.
Never in his life did he think he would actually receive the life changing phone call, but when he picked up the receiver, saying his usual “The Munson Residence”
The news on the other line was one that Eddie had dreamed of hearing his whole life. He had almost dropped the phone onto the floor as the person on the other end, identified themselves as a LA Music Producer. They had actually listened to the Corroded Coffin tape he had sent them, and they loved it. Corroded Coffin had been offered a record deal, the deal of a lifetime.
Both of your lives were changing, just not together.
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After you collected yourself, You knew you had to tell Eddie. For a flash of a moment you felt absolute fear, but you knew Eddie loved you. There was no doubt about it, he was your biggest fan. Always there to shower you with praise and compliments, it was also a known fact that the boy hated to be away from you. The boy practically had to be peeled away from you every time you had to go to class or go home.
So you picked up the phone, you weren’t going to deliver the news over the phone but you knew Sunday mornings were designated band practice days for Eddie and Corroded Coffin. So you called.
If you were being honest with yourself you just wanted to talk to him before placing such a burden on him. The phone rang longer than you were used to which only worsened the anxiety you were currently feeling. When the call finally connected you breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of the voice you loved so much.
“Hello, Lead Singer of Corroded Coffin speaking” Eddie Answered with pure joy lacing his tone. You could hear Gareth's laugh on the other side of the phone.
“Well hello Lead singer of Corroded Coffin” you replied, giggling softly at his antics. If you only knew.
“Oh, Hi Sweetheart. What’s up” He said with less enthusiasm, if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own thoughts you probably would’ve caught the change in tone.
“Nothing, just wanted to see if you and the band were still practicing. Wanted to talk to you, hear your voice” Your voice shook slightly, trying to hold back the tears that we’re returning once more.
Just like you, Eddie was too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice the shake in your voice. Something he usually would’ve noticed instantly.
He was silent for a moment, a long moment that only filled your gut with a feeling of dread. Could he possibly know? Did he see you at the pharmacy? He couldn’t have. You would’ve noticed him.
After a few seconds of silence and shuffling on the other end, Eddie finally replied “Um.. Uh yeah we’re still practicing, Jeff is still having trouble learning the riff to this song we’re working on... Ar-Are you okay?”
“Yeah Yeah, I’m fine but can we hang tomorrow?” You asked, he had sounded so happy when he answered the phone. It had been a rare sound recently as he had been feeling low since flunking his senior year. Even when he congratulated you after you had walked in your cap and gown, you knew he felt disappointed in himself. You couldn’t drop this on him when he was finally sounding like his usual care free self. You could tell him tomorrow.
“Of Course, Sweetheart. I actually gotta get back to the boys but I’ll see you tomorrow” He rushed out. You should’ve noticed the unsteadiness in his voice. If you had noticed it, you would’ve been prepared for what was to come.
“Yeah, I’ll see you. I love you” you said and then he hung up.
Eddie never said goodbye without saying ‘I love you’ back. If anything he was always the first one, berating you for not saying it back quick enough. The dreadful feeling in your stomach only grew after that.
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When Eddie hung up the phone, for the first time that day he felt the gravity of the deal he had accepted. He was undeniably happy, this was his dream come true. He would no longer be the trailer park trash that everyone thought him to be, the freak of Hawkins or the idiot who had to repeat his senior year because he was too busy drug dealing to actually participate in class.
But what did that mean for the two of you?
“What was that? Why didn’t you tell y/n? She should be on her way here to celebrate with us.” Gareth said his hands held out, confused by Eddie’s actions. Never has Eddie been able to keep something hidden from you. It was actually something that had bugged Gareth in the beginning as he knew that if he told Eddie something, you would be told the same information only hours later.
“Yeah! And I completely nailed that riff by the way” Jeff inserted, slightly offended by Eddie’s choice of excuses.
Eddie ignored them both, slowly and silently making his way to the couch, all excitement he had previously felt, gone from his body. The only thing on his mind was you. You would be happy for him, there’s no denying that. You loved him and always encouraged him to seek out his dreams. Hell, you were the one who convinced him to send the tape out anyways, helping him pick the right songs and mail it. This was as much your accomplishment as it was his.
Yet why did he feel like something was ending, like he was giving up one dream for another.
“What’s wrong dude?” Doug asked, moving to sit next to Eddie, sharing concerned glances with Jeff and Gareth at their friends' sudden change of mood.
“He lied to y/n for one thing, he never does that. '' Gareth replied, his arms crossed. While you were friends with all of Eddie’s bandmates it was Gareth who had introduced you to Eddie in the first place after meeting in Biology. You were true friends outside of your relationship with Eddie.
Eddie stayed silent, barely registering Gareth’s words.
“ I forgot about her. We just accepted the deal and I forgot about her” Eddie muttered silently more to himself than anything but the boys heard him perfectly, Suddenly understanding.
The boys knew how much you meant to Eddie, after having to endure two years of you two clinging to each other and sucking face. Though they knew you made Eddie happy and that’s all they wanted for him.
Jeff came to sit on the other side of Eddie on the couch, hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “ Don’t worry about it, man. Y/n will understand she knows this is your dream. I mean didn’t she help out with the tape”
“We’re going to have to move. That’s what the producer said. I was too caught up in the excitement, I- Oh god. Are we going to have to—break up?” Eddie's voice shook and it was the first time the boys had ever seen Eddie scared. He was their confident leader , the guy who stood up to bullies and made fun of them back. Even when he felt like shit for not graduating, he was never scared.
“Don’t think about that dude. It’s y/n, I mean she could come with us?” Doug suggested but even he couldn’t be confident about his words. Eddie always puts your wants and needs first.
You had just got into Indiana University, you had specifically chosen one close to home so you could stay close to Eddie and your mom.
“I-I can’t do that to her. Force her to live my dreams” Tears began to brim Eddie’s eyes as he thought about it. “She’ll hate me for it” The last part he said quieter but in the silence of his living room, the boys heard him clearly fully understanding where his mind was, knowing the history of Eddie’s parents.
His dad wanted kids, his mom didn’t but she had Eddie anyways to make his dad happy. She used to remind Eddie of that every day about how he ruined her life. That's when the fighting started, Eddie’s mom resenting him and Eddie’s dad for ruining everything. Then when Old Al Munson finally went to jail, Eddie’s mom did what she always wanted. She left.
He couldn’t let that happen to him and y/n, he loved her too much to force her to give up her dreams, to uproot her life for him. What if she began to hate him like his mom? But then could he give up his dream for her? The initial answer was yes but his evil mind played out the same ending, with him hating her for making him give it up. He could never hate her, but he’s seen couples break up for less.
“Y/N could never hate you, Eds. You know that, We all know that. That girl adores you, she loves you.” Gareth said, trying to help.
“Exactly, fucking exactly. She loves me, she would give up University, she would give it all up for me. Then in a few years she will realize how much she gave up. She’ll resent me for ruining her life. Then she will hate me.” Eddie stood up and began pacing, his words tumbling out.
This was how Eddie was, when he came to a conclusion no matter how twisted it was, he would stick to it. He was stubborn like that, the only person who could ever calm him down, change his mind, was you.
“Eddie buddy, just talk to y/n. I can’t believe I'm saying this but you two are meant for each other. I knew it from the moment I met her. Just talk to her and you’ll work things out” Jeff stood up, resting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder once more to steady him.
Eddie only nodded but kept his gaze low, far away. The boys looked at each other, Gareth nodding at Jeff. Though while they silently agreed it was good advice, they just hoped Eddie actually heard them and would listen to them.
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Eddie had heard their words and for a while it calmed him down, you were Eddie and Y/n. There was nothing you couldn’t handle but that night as he tossed and turned all he could think about is what you would say when you found out. The boys might have been right in just talking it out with you, but they didn’t know you like he did. He knew you, he knew you would jump at the opportunity to go with him, you would give up everything and leave it all behind for him.
You were selfless like that and a selfish part of Eddie wanted to let you but then he remembered the look on your face when you walked to him in your cap and gown, you were absolutely beautiful but the look of happiness and pride in your eyes. You were proud of yourself and that look only increased by ten when you received your acceptance letter. You had raved about how you would come down every weekend to visit him and help your mom out. Another thing he couldn’t do, Los Angeles was thousands of miles away from Indiana. If anything happened to your mom and you weren’t there, you would hate him forever.
It was three in the morning and every way Eddie thought about it, it ended with either you giving up your dreams or him giving up his. He knew he would give it up for you and you for him, but he also knew that kind of sacrifice could only end in heartache. He rather lose you to your dreams and happiness then even let the possibility of you hating him one day happen.
Eddie Munson knew what he had to do, and it was just about to kill him.
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You had spent the majority of the rest of the day in a trance. Your eyes redrimmed and face covered in dried tears. After your call with Eddie you hadn’t cried any longer, in a weird state of calm even with the dread filling your stomach.
There was nothing you could do at this point, at least not until you talked to Eddie. You laid in bed for most of the day, watching old movies and entertaining the different futures you could have with Eddie.
Could you be a mother? It would be terribly difficult, first with the way your mom would react to the news. You had had money saved for when you moved to school, hoping to start a fund for you and Eddie to move in together. Would you even be able to go to University anymore? Lots of people worked and went to school pregnant but could you? So far away from home?
You weren’t sure what you wanted.
Your thoughts turned to Eddie, how would he feel? He just flunked his senior year, what would being a teen dad do to him? Even when Eddie carried his carefree facade, you knew the things people said about him being “a freak” or “trash like his father” got to him. You knew because he told you, late night whispers as he ran his fingers up and down your side, and your fingers combing through his messy hair. Bodies slick with sweat after your usual night of dirty sex or ‘lovemaking’ as Eddie liked to call it.
The insults thrown at him would get worse if you had a baby, you knew that. A small conservative town like Hawkins wasn’t one that was particularly open to anything or anyone different. Eddie would support you but would he want this? Eddie wanted to be a rockstar, it’s why he spent every sunday morning and wednesday afternoon’s practicing so hard with his band. You even helped him send a bunch of tapes to music producers in Los Angeles. Eddie would support you but he didn’t want this, at least not now.
The true question was, if you wanted this?
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You had spent all day contemplating every possible outcome for your ‘little problem’ and had fallen asleep early. So when you woke up, you didn’t want to think anymore about possibilities. You just wanted him, your sweet loving Eddie. So still in your sweats, you grabbed your bag. Holding up one of the five pregnancy tests, you looked at it for half a second before shoving it in your bag. Then you made your way to Eddie’s trailer.
As you walked up, a wave of nausea hit you but it was different than before. Probably a sign of the pain and stress that awaited you on the other side of the door. You knocked and waited for Eddie to open the door for you. When he did, you noted his messy hair, his eyes had dark circles around them, you wondered if he had gotten enough to sleep. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, your worries washing away for a few seconds as you stared at him, God did you love this boy.
Though while you smiled, Eddie didn’t. Which was odd, he would’ve scooped you up into his arms at this point.
“Sweetheart? You're here early. Is everything okay?” He asked, opening the door wider to let you in.
You made your way inside, noting the beer cans that remained on the coffee table.
“I- I don’t know, I just really needed to talk to you” You said looking at him, trying your best to keep your composure. Twiddling with your fingers, gaze set on the boy.
Eddie’s brows furrowed and for a second he looked confused before he sighed. Taking your hand and leading you to sit on the couch.
“I’m guessing you talked to Gareth”
This confused you ultimately, now you really looked at Eddie. You had noticed the dark circles around his eyes which was normal after a night with the boys but now you noticed that he looked much like you did yesterday, eyes bloodshot and swollen, a wave of panic flooded you.
“No? Why? What happened?” You questioned not hiding the panic in your voice, all the things were coming together in your head now. The redness in his eyes, his lack of “I love you” when you said it yesterday and even now while you sat on the couch, hand in hand, he was an entire foot away from you. Something was wrong, and it had nothing to do with you or the fetus in your womb.
He was silent for awhile, looking everywhere else but you. Which only worried you more, Eddie never had trouble expressing himself, especially to you.
“ Remember when we sent those tapes out a few weeks ago” You nodded quickly unprepared for the turn this conversation was going to go.
“Well um, they called, Sweetheart. They want me, they want to sign Corroded Coffin” For a second you forgot about all your life and problems, and smiled brightly, you surged forward hugging him.
“Eddie, that's amazing! You're going to be a rockstar. I knew they would love you” You pulled back but Eddie wasn’t smiling or giggling with you. His face was passive, he pulled back, putting you at arm’s length. Your eyebrows furrowed at the loss of contact.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” You tried to reach for him, to cup his face but he stopped you, grabbing your hand and putting it aside but not letting go.
“ The band and I were moving to LA” These words were like cold water being dropped down your spine, you pulled your hand away like if it burned. You were happy for Eddie but this news was very bad timing. Incredibly bad timing.
You mulled over his words, ‘The band and I’, and he had yet to say anything after, the silence telling you everything you needed to know. He wasn't asking you to go, he had decided, you weren’t going.
This was not how you expected this morning to go.
“What about me? Us? ” You said softly, you had already cried all your tears yesterday, if anything the feeling of dread and panic was now overshadowed by a bigger feeling, anger.
Eddie sighed running his hands through his hair, “You have your whole life ahead of you darling, and this is an opportunity of a lifetime and I - I don’t think” He stumbled over his words, his eyes focused on the wall in front of him.
He couldn’t look at you, if he looked at you he would break.
“Just say it Eddie” Your voice was harsher now, you had spent all of yesterday crying thinking your life was over. Your only consolation was that you would have Eddie but you were wrong. He was leaving you.
He turned to you then, looking you in the eye, his own brimming with tears. “I think we should break up.”
Just like that the world had dropped from under you. An ache settled in your throat and chest. You fought the tears brimming but that didn’t stop the strain in your voice when you spoke . “You think?”
You didn’t look at him, only heard him as he spoke. “Sweetheart, It’s not right for me to ask you to come with me”
You scoffed bitterly “You didn’t even ask. I thought you loved me, you promised— We We h-had plans”
His hands came to cradle to your face as you continued to stumble over your words “Shh Shh, Sweetheart breathe”
You pulled back and stood up, laughing bitterly, he only looked at you with a concerned gaze, tears marking his cheeks.
“When-When did you find this out? huh? Yesterday?” Realization hit you and you couldn’t help the glare that you sent to Eddie.
“That’s why you were weird, Why didn't you tell me you loved me? What? you were planning on how to break up with me, all day? What? So you could get a new hot LA model girlfriend?” You rambled angrily
He stood up trying to touch you but you stepped back, trying to be as far away from him as possible. “No No Sweetheart, I’m doing this for you because I love you”
“ YOUR LYING” you yelled, you and Eddie never yelled to each other but you also never lied. “I know you Eddie Munson, you aren’t doing this for me. You are doing this for you. What? Were our plans not enough for you! The family we dreamed of !” Your hands moved to settle over your stomach but Eddie was too focused on you to notice.He was silent, and his silence only made you more angry.
“SAY SOMETHING” you yelled
“NO!” he yelled back harshly, his eyes hardened “You want the truth? That little white picket fence dream family you wanted. It was never going to be enough for me? I never wanted it, to be stuck here as the town freak, stuck here with you” He stopped abruptly knowing the cruelty of what he was saying.
It was like all your worst fears and doubts about your relationship with Eddie came true, you could feel your heart shattering. Everything you had ever dreamed of with him, the silent promises whispered at night, all the hopes, they were all lies.
“Sweetheart I—”
“It’s fine, Eddie. It’s just the truth right? You never wanted a future with me, you were just settling until a better opportunity came around, and now it’s here” Your voice was cold and calm. Gone was any fight you had, what was the point, Eddie didn’t want you, or a future with you. So why fight a one sided battle.
“Right?” You asked as a final attempt, You looked him in the eyes, hoping that he would say it wasn’t true, hoping to see a little sliver of regret in those brown eyes that you loved. That he would say that he did want a life with you, even if it got messy, but there was none.
His eyes set on you, “Right. This— It’s what I want Y/n” He said dejectedly. No regret, just guilt, he was choosing a life without you rather than one with you.
Eddie Munson was a stubborn man, when he wanted something he was set on it. You could always talk him out of things because well he loved you more, wanted you more. Though it looks like he had found something better to want.
You only nodded, moving to grab your bag. The pregnancy test sitting inside, long forgotten. He only stood there, frozen, staring at you as you moved to leave. As you opened the door you looked at him once last time.
“You were never a freak to me” you said before slamming the trailer door.
You walked down the steps to your car, stopping as you reached the door handle, you looked back to the trailer, thinking of the past two years you had spent with the boy you thought loved you. You waited, tears silently falling from your eyes, using the last thread of hope and trust you had in Eddie Munson. Hoping he would run out and stop you. He didn’t.
Eddie watched from the window of the trailer watching as you looked up at the trailer, unknowingly looking at him through the window. He didn’t move, he just watched you stare, then get in your car and drive away.
It was the last time Eddie Munson would see you for six years, eyes red, tears streaming, and heartbroken.
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This is my first series, so let me know your guys thoughts in the comments.
pls like, comment and reblog
taglist: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @transparentenemypenguin @mdurdenpitt @learninglinesintherainn @emxxblog @emma-munson @hazydespair
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unreal-unearthing · 1 month
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Also some added thoughts about Dead Boy Detectives and the way both boys’ deaths were because of bullying, because of pranks gone too far. It’s a ‘dumb prank’ but Edwin spends 70 years in hell because of it. The boys were ‘just messing around’ but Charles died from his injuries. Its a really compelling narrative about how much bullying can follow you throughout your life. It can be over a hundred years since edwin was last in school but he still can’t escape the consequences of what those boys did. it’s been thirtyish years since Charles died but he may as well still be running through those woods the way he has to always be on the move, always hiding from Death.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 month
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1. prepping (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)
summary: you landed your dream job as a line cook at harry styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.
words: 4.3k
warnings: nothing major in this one
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Your palms were sweating as you gripped the steering wheel, driving through downtown Chicago towards your new job. You kept glancing down at the address on the printed directions, double checking that you were heading the right way. The last thing you wanted was to be late on your first day.
Ever since getting your culinary degree, you had applied to what felt like hundreds of restaurant jobs, desperate to get your foot in the door of a real professional kitchen. But very few places wanted to hire someone so fresh out of school with no actual experience. 
Finally, after months of dead ends, you had landed a line cook position at Haus Kitchen - one of the hottest farm-to-table restaurants in the city. You could scarcely believe your luck when you got the call saying you were hired.
Haus was the brainchild of Harry Styles, international superstar singer turned chef. After his chart-topping solo music career, Harry had traded in artist life to pursue his lifelong passion for cooking. Using his accumulated wealth, he opened up Haus five years ago to rave reviews, quickly earning a well deserved Michelin star.
You vividly remembered watching Harry's transition from a pop idol to dashing culinary entrepreneur play out in the media. As a teenage girl, you had been obsessed with him during his One Direction days.
Your bedroom walls were plastered with Harry's posters and you had relentlessly played their songs, sighing over his tousled hair and pouty lips. Then as you got older and Harry went solo, your boyband crush evolved into more of an intense celebrity infatuation as he cultivated a cool, rebellious image.
There were countless gossipy blind items about his infamous hellraising, flings with models and socialites, and run-ins with the law. You had followed all the scandalous Harry headlines with rapt attention - from getting papped stumbling out of nightclubs with an endless parade of beautiful women to getting arrested for drug possession outside Soho clubs. 
But finally in his late 20s, seemingly bored of rockstar debauchery, Harry had pivoted to reset his image as a knowledgeable culinary entrepreneur. You admired how he transformed from tabloid bad boy into a refined, successful businessman and chef.
He began studying haute cuisine under the tutelage of famous European chefs, traveling abroad to hone his skills further. While continuing to record new musical projects independently, Harry started establishing himself in the culinary world through guest stints on TV cooking shows and food/wine events.
With his brooding good looks, charming personality, and serious culinary chops, the world fell for Harry's new sophisticated image. Before long, he was the subject of breathless puff pieces in food magazines as "the sexiest Renaissance man in the kitchen." It seemed natural when Harry soon opened up his passion project Haus to capitalize on his popularity and love of food.
Now nearing your mid-20s, your teenage fannish obsession had cooled into more of an admiring celebrity crush. You had stayed aware of Harry's journey, but your priorities were focused on graduating culinary school at the top of your class and finding your own big break in the Chicago restaurant scene.
So when you landed a job at Harry's iconic Haus, it almost didn't feel real. Not only would you be working at one of the city's most exclusive spots, but under the same roof as a chef you had admired for ages.
Not that you expected to have any real personal contact with Harry himself, you reminded yourself as you merged onto the exit for downtown. He was an internationally famous mega-celebrity who had to have hundreds of staffers, not to mention being handsomely paid to just be the smiling face of the business while professional kitchen vets like Paul Thomason handled the day-to-day operations.
Still, you had to admit to yourself that a tiny part of you tingled at the mere idea of being in the same building as Harry Styles...hopefully catching a glimpse of that handsome, endlessly charming man in the flesh...
You shook your head dismissively and double checked the directions again, annoyed at getting so easily distracted. This was your big break, your first serious job in the industry. You needed to bring your A-game and focus, not dwell on silly celebrity daydreams.
It was your fantasies of becoming a respected chef that needed to take priority.
You pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, double checking that you had the address right. The sleek, modern building had a neon "Haus Kitchen" sign glowing over opulent double-door entrances flanked by velvet ropes and cheerful outdoor seating areas.
Taking a steadying breath, you cut the engine and sat for a moment, giving yourself a pep talk. This was it. No more messing around doing coursework or labs - this was the major leagues with all the intensity of a real professional kitchen. You had to bring it all day, every day.
As you climbed out of your beat-up Honda, you smoothed down your spotless new chef's whites, making sure everything looked pressed and presentable. With your knife kit tucked under your arm, you walked towards the entrance with purpose, chin held high.
From the moment you stepped through the doors, it was like being transported into another world. The smell of simmering sauces, roasting meats, and freshly baked bread envaded your senses. Even hours before opening, the energy and hustle for dinner prep was palpable.
Off to the left was the main dining room you had studied photos of online - effortlessly cool with vaulted exposed wooden beam ceilings, brick accents, and casually modern decor. Pendant lighting glowed cozily over tables draped in white linens and rustic chandeliers hung over plush tufted leather banquettes. A lively bar area centered the space, stocked with top-shelf liquors and backed by a dazzling display of custom glassware.
In the distance ahead, you could hear the clamoring of the kitchen in full swing. Your stomach did a nervous flip - this was it. Taking another fortifying breath, you headed through the archway.
You emerged into a large, sleek open kitchen layout, all stainless steel and butcher block islands. Uniformed cooks were buzzing at their stations like a well-oiled machine under the barked commands of an older, stocky man you immediately recognized as Head Chef Paul Thomason.
Despite his gruff reputation, watching Thomason in action was nothing short of mesmerizing. He moved between stations with the easy grace of a conductor, sampling sauces, tweaking seasonings, and directing the workflow with gruff orders. There was no wasted movement or micro-expression as he continually tasted and perfected dishes, alternating between thoughtful contemplation and decisive action.
Though you had only seen Thomason in pictures and television appearances, his fierce focus and mastery were unmistakable. This was what true professional kitchen expertise looked like in the flesh.
Feeling like a mouse that had wandered into the lair of a lion, you hovered near the entrance, uncertain of what to do next. The kitchen team flowed around you in a choreographed dance, deftly ignoring your presence as they prepped and plated flawlessly.
After a few minutes of anxious loitering, the intimidating Thomason seemed to finally notice you. His grizzled features contorted as he scowled, looking you up and down through eyes squinted with decades of kitchen smoke exposure.
"You must be the new kid," he said gruffly, crossing his bulky tattooed arms over his broad chest. Even without raising his voice, Thomason had a rumbling bass that easily carried over the kitchen's clanging din. "Christ, you're shorter than I expected. Think you've got what it takes to keep up around here?"
You nervously clutched your knife kit closer while trying to not look as flustered as you felt. "Y-yes, chef!" 
You swallowed hard, hyper aware of everyone around you now watching the interaction. "I, uh...I came ready to work as hard as it takes. Whatever you need from me."
Thomason grunted, squinting at you for another long moment in consideration. Then he jerked his head towards the back. "Get changed out quick and meet me back here in 5. I'll get you started on prep and we'll see what you're made of. Don't keep me waiting."
"Yes, chef!" you responded immediately, wincing at how high your voice had gone up an octave.
Without another word, Thomason turned and strode back into the controlled chaos of the line, immediately redirecting his attention to sauces and garnishes. Letting out a shaky breath, you scurried towards the changing rooms, heart jackhammering.
Well, you were officially in the thick of things now...
You hustled back out to the kitchen, trying not to look frazzled from your rushed change. A young Hispanic line cook spotted you and waved you over to his station.
"You the newbie?" he asked, not unkindly. When you nodded, he jerked his head towards the walk-in refrigerator. "Thomason wants you to start by breaking down some of the produce delivery for prep."
"Got it, thanks," you replied, eager to prove yourself. The line cook gestured you through the door into the immense chilled walk-in.
You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the cold, taking in the sights and smells of the impressive stockpile. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with an array of fresh seasonal produce - crates bursting with leafy greens, bushels of root vegetables, flats of vibrantly colored tomatoes, exotic fruits, and mushroom varieties you had only read about.  
Your culinary school had humble basics for ingredients, nothing like the bounty of locally-sourced, meticulously selected provisions that Haus Kitchen demanded. You felt a thrill at getting to work with such an extraordinary pantry.
Respirating clouds puffed from your mouth as you scanned the inventory tagging system. You had been taught similar protocols in your food safety courses, but there was something exhilarating about putting that knowledge into practice in a real professional environment.
Grabbing a stack of plastic totes, you made a game plan for which items to start prepping first based on perishability levels and what would be needed for that evening's specials. Though you started out slow at first, you steadily built up a cadence of meticulously cleaning, trimming, and sorting into appropriate storage containers.  
By the time Thomason stuck his head in to check on you an hour later, you had developed an efficient system and made solid progress through a mountain of deliveries.
The head chef grunted in approval as he inspected your neat stacks of prepped produce, crossing his arms as he looked you up and down with a critical eye.
"Not bad, kid," he rumbled. "Clearly know which end of a knife to use, at least. C'mon back out, got some protein fabrication for you to tackle next."
You diligently followed Thomason back out to the main kitchen, wiping some sweat from your brow with your sleeve. Despite the industrial cooling system, the heat blazing from the ovens and range tops made the open kitchen feel like a furnace.
As Thomason led you to a stainless steel butcher's block island, you couldn't help but gawk at the array of gleaming knives hanging from magnetic strips overhead. The blades were works of art - sleek, razor sharp, and clearly extremely expensive.
Gesturing you over, Thomason grabbed a boning knife and twirled it deftly before handing it to you. "Let's see how you handle breaking this down."
He gave the block a solid smack with his meaty palm, indicating for you to get started on the glistening slab of beef tenderloin before you. Taking a steadying breath, you gripped the bone-handled knife firmly and leaned over the cutting board.
"Yes chef," you murmured before carefully piercing the thick cut of meat, angling the blade with practiced precision from all your training.
Around you, the kitchen bustled with the usual rattling pans, sizzling ranges, and Thomason's occasional barked orders. But as you fell into the rhythm of deftly separating fat and sinew, the noises began to fade from your awareness.  
You were completely focused on your knife work, confidently sawing through the tender flesh as you reduced the tenderloin down to portions and trimmings for other stations to further break down. It was meditative, almost hypnotic, the way you instinctively slid the blade along rendered paths of butchery.
After your initial intimidation of the intense Haus environment, you started to find your groove and calm amidst the choreographed insanity surrounding you. You were so laser-focused on the satisfaction of properly executing each slicing technique that the rest of the kitchen chaos became mere white noise.
You had no idea how long you stayed absorbed in the butchery, but eventually you became aware of a presence at your elbow. Glancing up, you nearly jumped to see Harry Styles watching you work with an unreadable expression, hands shoved into the pockets of his slim-fitting slacks.
His dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the fitted cotton fabric clung to his toned arms and chest, a few chest hairs peeking out of his slightly undone top button. A single necklace rested in the divot between his sculpted collarbones, drawing your eye to the alluring hollow of his throat as he swallowed hard.
You froze mid-slice, mesmerized by watching the tendons in Harry's wrist and forearm flex as his hands flexed restlessly in his trouser pockets. After a beat, his pillowy lips curved into an easy smile, crinkling the delicate crow's feet at the corners of his kaleidoscope green eyes.
"Afternoon," Harry said in that lazy, husky drawl that used to make millions of fans swoon. He flicked his eyes down to your handiwork before bringing them back up to your face. "Looking good there, newbie."
You blinked, not trusting your ears for a moment before realizing with a jolt that Harry was very much real and quite close. Like, unnecessarily close for your over-stimulated brain to handle.
"Uh...I-I, um...th-thank you?" you croaked out, wanting to cringe at how lame you sounded. Get it together, this wasn't the time to geek out–you instructed yourself.
But Harry didn't seem to notice your fumbling, simply giving you a dimpled half-smile before reaching around you to snag a stray piece of trimming from the butcher's block. He inspected it contemplatively before popping it into his mouth, those plump lips wrapping obscenely around the bite as he chewed and ruminated with relish.
"Perfection," he declared after swallowing, shooting you another crooked grin like you were co-conspirators sharing an inside joke. With a subtle wink, Harry pivoted on his boot heel and sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.
As he retreated, you risked a glance down at his form-fitting trousers shamelessly admiring the way the fine fabric cupped the ample curves of his pert backside. Even at his age, Harry Styles had the muscle-toned body of a man decades younger - long, lean muscles taut under golden tanned skin.
You blinked hard and shook your head, annoyed at catching yourself ogling your new boss like a drooling fangirl. Pull it together! This was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. You had zero business daydreaming about someone who gave you your paycheck, no matter how obscenely famous and heartthrob-ishly handsome they were.
Firmly re-focusing on your knife work, you determinedly put Harry from your mind and tried to re-immerse yourself in the rhythm and refuge of the butchery. But the memory of his distractingly lush mouth so close kept replaying over and over, preventing you from recapturing your previous sense of meditative flow. 
Dammit, you needed to get a grip! This kind of inappropriate crush on your employer was exactly the kind of silly, immature behavior that would make you look like a unprofessional joke in a serious kitchen environment. Blowing an opportunity like this was not an option.
Later, as you untied your apron strings and joined the team in breaking down the last stations for cleaning at closing, Thomason sidled up alongside you. You braced yourself for more of his typical gruff rebukes or criticisms.
Instead, the veteran chef simply gave you a long, considered look before saying gruffly, "You did good work today, kid. I can already tell you got the stuff to handle it around here if you keep your head down."
You blinked up at him in surprise before managing a small smile. "Thank you, chef. I really appreciate that."
Thomason grunted noncommittally before wandering off, likely to oversee something else. As you tidied your workstation, you couldn't help feeling a small glow of pride. Despite the craziness of your first day, you had seemingly passed this initial trial with flying colors.
As you left through the back entrance into the quiet night air, you took a deep breath and allowed yourself a satisfied smile. Maybe, just maybe, you really did have what it took to succeed in this highly competitive environment after all. For tonight at least, you had handled the punishing pace and standards. Tomorrow was another day to prove yourself all over again.
***
Your day started before sunrise the next morning, brewing a strong coffee and reviewing the notes you had taken the previous evening about which menu items needed prepping. By the time you arrived at Haus, reinvigorated by the crisp morning air, the kitchen was already a hive of activity in preparation for lunch service. 
The intense scrutiny under which you worked only amplified with the daylight. Every slice, every sauté was carried out under the watchful eyes of Chef Thomason and his steely gaze. More than once, you felt his presence looming over your shoulder, inspecting your work with the same critical eye as a diamond cutter examining a flawless gem.
"This slice is uneven," he barked, startling you. You flinched, resisting the urge to make excuses as he continued, "The portions all need to be identical for plating. Paying attention to details like that is the difference between a sloppy meal and a stellar one. Don't let it happen again."
"Yes, chef," you replied tightly, making a minor adjustment to your knife work. Though his words stung, you had to admit Thomason was completely right. In a restaurant of this caliber, any minor imperfection could spell disaster.  
You redoubled your efforts, pouring all of your concentration into each preparation, each plate. By the time the end of your shift rolled around, you were drenched in sweat, your feet screaming from being on them for 12 hours straight. But you had successfully made it through day two without any major mishaps.
As the whirlwind of dinner service finally calmed to a stopping point, you stood in the kitchen obediently waiting for Thomason's inspection and inevitable critique. But to your surprise, he merely gave a curt nod of approval before waving you off.
"Not bad, newbie," he grunted. "Get a good night's rest. We'll need you back bright and early tomorrow."
Those few gruff words of acceptance warmed you more than any high praise could have. For Thomason, a man of very few words, his small nod seemed to indicate you were, for the moment, living up to his exceedingly high standards.
The high from that small victory buoyed your spirits as you made your way towards the back exit, already dreaming of the few hours of sleep you might be able to grab before starting the cycle over again. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you nearly bowled someone over coming around a corner.
"Whoa there!"  
You froze, looking up into the grinning, mirthful eyes of Harry Styles himself. Up close, the force of his charm and magnetism practically crackled in the air around him like a physical force. His sweater clung distractingly to his lithe, muscular frame and his chestnut hair was casually tousled. A pair of small diamond studs glinted in each ear.
"Sorry about that, H-Harry," you stammered, resisting the urge to take a flustered step back. You were vividly aware of just how little physical space separated the two of you. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
If he noticed your frazzled state up close, Harry didn't let on. His pink lips merely curved in an easy, dimpled smile. "No need to apologize. I don't usually make a habit of lurking around blind corners, to be fair."
You laughed before you could stop yourself, surprised at how easily he was putting you at ease despite your elevated heart rate. Up close, Harry's eyes weren't just green - an entire kaleidoscope of colors ranging from jade to emerald to amber seemed to shift and dance in his gaze. It was...dazzling, frankly.
Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to take a subtle step backwards, putting a more professional amount of space between the two of you. The last thing you needed was to do something wildly inappropriate that would get you fired before the end of your first week.
"Still, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings," you replied, aiming for a respectful, levelheaded tone. "It's been a really intense couple of days just trying to stay on top of everything."
Harry nodded in understanding, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. "Thomason hasn't let up on you at all, I take it?" 
When you shook your head ruefully, he chuckled. "I know that seems like his permanent state - gruff, perpetually unsatisfied, and grumpy as a hibernating bear. But honestly, the fact that he hasn't fired you already is a good sign you're doing well."
You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait...really? But he critiques everything! I feel like I've gotten nothing but corrections so far."
"Exactly." Harry's dimples flashed as he grinned. "That's how you know he sees potential in you. If Thomason didn't think you had what it took, he wouldn't waste his breath giving feedback. He'd just cut you loose and hire someone else to start over."
His words were like a soothing balm on the anxiety and self-doubt you'd been carrying around for the past couple of days. You hadn't realized that Thomason's critical approach was actually a twisted form of acceptance and mentorship. The revelation caused the hard knot of tension between your shoulder blades to finally release.
"Huh," you exhaled, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you finally understood Thomason's tough love. "I guess I should take that as a compliment then."
"Absolutely," Harry agreed with an approving nod. Then his expression softened around the edges, growing earnest as his gaze searched yours. "Look, I know it's a huge adjustment and the pace here can be absolutely brutal starting out. But for what it's worth...I think you've got what it takes to be something really special in this kitchen."
You felt yourself flush at his unexpected praise, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of nervous butterflies. Harry held your eyes for a lingering moment before seeming to mentally collect himself.
Clearing his throat, he flashed you one more crooked grin. "But don't take my word for it - the proof will be in your work. Stay focused and trust the process. I've got faith you can handle it."
With that, he brushed past you, his shoulder grazing yours in a way that made your entire body buzz with friction. As Harry sauntered off down the hallway, you couldn't stop yourself from turning to watch his retreating form - the easy, rolling gait, the tantalizing sway of his hips below the slim cut of his trousers, the tousled waves of his chestnut hair.
You let out a shaky exhale, feeling off-balance and electrified all at once. Get a grip, you scolded yourself firmly. That was your boss - your incredibly famous, wealthy, and wildly attractive boss. Daydreaming was a one-way ticket to catching inappropriate feelings and potentially torpedoing your entire career before it even started.
And yet...you couldn't quite silence the part of your brain reliving Harry's velvet tone and intense eye contact as he professed having faith in your abilities. Just the casual warmth of his voice and proximity had set your heart pounding in a way it hadn't since you were a hormonal teenager, utterly dazzled by his rock star persona.
Shaking your head, you forced yourself to turn on your heel and head for the exit. Overthinking could only lead to dangerous territory. You needed to stay laser-focused on your work - that was the only way to succeed at Haus and make your culinary dreams a reality.
As you stepped out into the fresh evening air, you paused for a moment on the deserted back stoop, closing your eyes and taking a few centering breaths. When you opened them again, you felt the last fluttering tendrils of Harry's heated presence dissipate, replaced by a familiar sense of determined calm.
This job was your priority now, not silly schoolgirl crushes or indulging fantasies about your wildly unattainable boss. You knew better than to get distracted by daydreams that could only lead to self-sabotage. 
With a decisive nod, you strode towards your car with renewed focus. You would prove yourself at Haus through your skills and work ethic alone. No other agenda, no unprofessional entanglements allowed. 
Your passion was cuisine, creating nourishing dishes that delighted - that had to remain your sole priority. You couldn't afford any distractions from that lest you squander this incredible opportunity. Steadying your breathing, you looked forward with fresh clarity and resolve.
Tomorrow was a new day to earn your place in Harry's formidable kitchen. And this time, you vowed, you were utterly prepared to meet the challenge with your complete and undivided focus.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! this is an idea for a new series that will probably have 6 parts??? i guess. but do tell me if you like it! because there's no use in writing when nobody reads 😭😭
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kxsalt · 1 month
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cw fauxcest
The stuffed bear falls to the floor as her big brother tackles the bully. He sits on the boy’s chest, pinning his arms to the ground as a hail of punches drop from the sky. The onlookers scatter as a teacher runs to break up the beating. Her big brother is dragged off to the principal’s office for the last time as the bully wails in pain. She picks up the bear and hugs it close to her chest.
The stuffed bear watches as his little sister eats his staff meal from a takeout container. He looks over her homework while he tapes up his fingers; covering chemical burns from a poorly maintained dishwasher. He slides the workbook over to her and asks for an explanation to a tricky question. The girl pushes in close to him to teach the equation.
The stuffed bear listens in as they celebrate. An acceptance letter, to a school far away but prestigious enough. A generous scholarship, not much but a beginning for her to start her degree. Maybe more will come. The siblings laugh and cry, exhausted revelry from people given too much responsibility too young.
“I’m scared.” “Me, too. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”
The summer between her graduation and the start of her university courses moves by at an uncomfortable pace. Her big brother was always grateful for work, but for the first time in his life asks for a day off to spend some time with his sister before she moves far away. They go on a walk around their shitty town, enjoying the warm sun. Splurging on a cold popsicle to share, they return home to argue about what to watch on tv.
Wrestling for the remote, her popsicle-stained mouth bursts into laughter as he pins her to the couch. He pulls at her arms tucked under her body, firm and strong but gentle. His sister’s soft hands claw at his calloused grip. Her cold blue raspberry tongue touches his when she kisses him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Her brother pushes away, bewildered by the embrace.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She sits outside his door, apologizing with every word she has. He sits on the other side of the wall, confused and terrified.
Late at night, the girl spoons her stuffed bear, pressing her tears into the fabric of the animal. It’s been repaired a hundred times over the years. Rough, immature stitches across the wise, touch-softened fur. The eyes are the same as they always were. Once, one fell off walking home from school. Her brother spent hours searching for it in the rain along the side of the road. He caught a cold after that, and she made him chicken soup from cheap bouillon and pasta from the food bank.
They don’t talk about it. Precious weeks in the summer sprint past them as they try to pretend it never happened. They don’t hug quite as often as they used to. Their conversations get shorter as they worry about the topic changing. His sister looks over the map on her wall. Her destination at the end of the summer looking further away from her origin every day.
One night he comes home late and collapses to the floor. Barely able to move, he groans in pain. The toll of his blue collar work already starting to bear it’s weight upon him. His back hurts. The girl brings him a hot water bottle and talks with him while he lies in his own dirt on the ground. Eventually, she coaxes him back up and gives him a fresh towel for his shower. When he emerges, he’s still moving slowly, trying to stretch out his back.
His sister helps him get to the bed, and watches over his immobile body. Bringing some tiger balm from her room she starts to rub it into his strong back, feeling the knots and the weaknesses. He twitches lightly from the pressure and the burning sensation of the salve.
“It hurts.” “Sometimes things that are good for you hurt at first. You taught me that.”
The room is silent as her soft hands work on his hardened body. Her brother starts to snore. She returns to her bedroom and tries to go to sleep. After an hour, she’s still awake, staring into the bright eyes of the stuffed bear. The girl brings it with her to the living room, holding it in her arms as she paces around their small, run down house.
Creeping into her brother’s room, she whispers to him; asking if he’s awake. No response. The girl lays down next to her sibling. Her hand strokes the bear. I’ll just lay here for a few minutes. Then I’ll go back to my room and sleep. Thirty seconds later she’s out like a light.
Daybreak. The girl wakes up to see her brother watching over her as she sleeps, as he’s done so many times before. Electricity runs through her nerves as it dawns on her that she fell asleep in his bed. Her mouth opens to apologize, but he interrupts her.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay. It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”
In the midsummer heat, each night is unsettled. When she can’t doze off, she crawls into her brother’s bed and pushes her face into the bear. When he can’t rest, he climbs into bed with his sister and rubs the bear’s back. The siblings sleep late, but sleep well.
On the hottest night of the year, they go straight to her room at bedtime. He always made sure to give her the room with the biggest window, so she could look out at the sky. Now that window is wide open to steal the slightest bit of breeze. The coldest room in the house becomes the warmest when two people and a stuffed bear are in it. She learned that in school, he learned it from her. Neither of them mention the thermodynamics of their situation.
That evening, neither of them can sleep in the sticky-warm room. The bear’s old eyes watch the siblings toss and turn, trying to get comfortable. Finally, her brother sits up and takes off his shirt, desperate to free himself from the burning sensation. His sister sits up and starts to lift off hers as well. She pauses, looking to his silhouette.
“Is this okay?” “Yeah, it’s too hot. And it’s dark in here, anyways.”
Her shirt drops to the floor next to his, her naked chest clearly visible in the moonlight. Overheated, they still roll around on the mattress. He slides off his underwear. She slips out of her panties. The sheet is too much in this heat, it gets pushed down to the bottom of the bed. It’s dark in here, anyways.
Rest eludes them again. Unable to remove anything else trapping the heat, they start to talk as if their breath will cool each other down.
“I’m sorry about what I did.” “It’s okay. I just got scared.” “Why?” “Because I don’t want to do anything that would push us apart.” “I’m scared too.” “Why?” “School is so far away. I’m afraid it will pull us apart.”
She touches the worn stitches on the bear. He touches the soft fur.
“I would never let that happen.” “I wouldn’t, either.” “So, what are we afraid of?”
Their fingers interlace across the belly of the comforting animal. Their lips touch. Their bodies press into each other. His sister grinds against his thigh and scrapes her nails against his chest. Her brother touches her neck and gropes her bum. They roll over each other, trying to get in closer. Skin sticks against skin in the sweaty heat.
Her heart drops for a moment as he pulls away, immediately relieved as he pushes open her legs and starts to lick her pussy. Her back arches as the sensation tingles through her body. Her brother is generous and passionate, two things she always knew about him, expressed in a way she had only dreamed of before. The man’s tongue licks wide across her needy pussy, then sucks in tight, focusing on her clit. Precise, firm circles lace her most sensitive spot.
His sister gasps and pushes his head away moments from her climax. Crawling underneath his lowered body, she kisses the tip of her brother’s cock. She had seen it before, completely by accident, but nothing like this. Hard, swollen, and twitching, she savors the sweat and leaking precum before pushing as much as she can down her throat. His scarred hands rub her back and her bum, reaching underneath her chest to squeeze her breasts. She edges her pussy while she sucks her sibling’s cock, not wanting to orgasm until just the right moment. I’ve waited this long…
He grips her by the hair and slowly pulls her head off him. Drool runs down her chin as he stares at her with shining, eager eyes. The same eyes stare back into his. Rolling onto her back, she lifts her legs up high to her body. Like a wild animal, he walks on all fours between her arching thighs until he holds himself above her. Her hand strokes his slippery cock, pressing his head against her entrance.
“I want you.” “I need you.”
In one swift motion, the taboo is broken. The older brother’s cock slips into the younger sister’s pussy. They look into each other’s eyes. The same eyes. They see each other. Unable to restrain himself, the older sibling starts to fuck her. Unwilling to hold back, the younger sibling pulls him in close and kisses him. Wet, icky sounds bounce between their bodies, mixing with warm, loving moans of pleasure. They don’t stop kissing each other the whole time they’re intertwined.
The rhythm increases. Nothing can stop them now. The sounds of their incest fill the moonlit room, breathing more heavily in the haze and the heat. He feels his sister’s legs lock around him, behind his hips, pulling him in closer. Her brother responds by wrapping her body in a tight hug. She can’t hold back any more. Her pussy squeezes tight on her sibling’s cock as she starts to cum from their intimate fucking. His sister’s legs around him would keep him from pulling out, if he ever tried. The feeling of seeing her so safe, so vulnerable, so happy is too much for him to take. They cum together, tangled up in each other.
The couple refuses to let go of each other. They’re stuck. They can’t go back now, how would they even try? How could they do that to the other? Almost flattened under the pillow, the stuffed bear peers out at them, ever neutral. They share a short gasp and start to move again.
Daybreak brings fat drops of summer rain, bursting against the window screen, and giving them a faint, refreshing mist. Exhausted, but still awake, she holds herself on all fours in front of her brother. He holds her hair and hips, pounding deep into his sister. They cum again, and fall asleep on the stained sheets.
The cold, crisp air of late fall dances across the campus. The girl has had an excellent first semester, receiving academic accolades, and blossoming into a social butterfly. The first break of the year, and her new friends take her to the airport. They chatter excitedly, eager to meet the boyfriend she had talked so much about. She cries as she runs across the luggage area to embrace him. Grabbing her partner’s hand, she takes him to meet her friends. Later in the evening, they leave her dorm to give them some time alone. He sits on the bed and holds the stuffed bear while her last friend pulls her into the hallway. She whispers her approval.
“You two look so perfect together. You even have the same eyes.”
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eddywoww · 6 months
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I know literally all soulmate mark fics have been done (tw: scarification and abuse)
But I’m imagining one where Steve has a mark and it’s fucking huge on his forearm. It says “Are you okay?” And his mom absolutely hates it. She glares at it when it pops up when he’s only eight years old and she won’t stop talking about it, won’t let it go.
She wants it gone.
So she pays to have it lazered off. Steve hates the process, cries before and during and after because he’s only a little boy and it hurts so badly.
But it doesn’t work. The phrase only pops up somewhere new. On his ankle. It’s a little smaller but it’s the same phrase. He tries to hide it this time but it’s no use, his mom spots it at a clothes fitting. Being rich meant that he had little to no privacy growing up.
She takes him to a different place this time and the process is even worse and Steve wishes they’d get better at it. Soulmarks aren’t like tattoos. The process is much more painful even than that. And poor Steve doesn’t get why he can’t have it, why his mom doesn’t want him to have it.
He would figure out later that she only wanted to control everything aspect of his life. The next time it pops up, she gets more egregious. Wants it to be cut out of his skin. Steve sobs the night before, knows it’ll scar so much worse on the meat of his bicep. He hates it, hates that she won’t let him have this and he just doesn’t understand. He keeps hoping it’ll show up somewhere she won’t find it.
After many failed tries, it finally does.
Steve almost doesn’t believe it when he finds the phrase, as tiny as possible, on the sole of his foot. He hides it. He wears socks, he tries his best to make sure his mom never sees it. He spends his teenage years trying harder and harder to get away from her. Stealing and saving money, making sure she can’t keep him locked away anymore.
Steve runs away eventually. Ends up going to college and buying goodwill furniture and getting a part time job and-
But it’s rough because he’s always been sort of shut in. A pretty ornament for his mom to show off at parties and galas. He didn’t spend much time around other kids. So school makes him nervous. Anxious to a startling degree.
It happens on a normal Tuesday. He’s in the campus lunchroom, a tray in hand. It’s shaking, his drink nearly spilling as he tries to make his way through the moving mass of students. It’s too much, all his senses firing at one hundred or more.
And then it happens. He almost drops the tray as someone bumps into him, only to grab Steve by the elbows, turning big brown eyes and curly hair toward him. A boy. A very attractive, apologetic looking boy.
Steve was mesmerized before he even opened his mouth.
“Are you okay?” The boy asks in shock. “I didn’t mean to almost knock you down, man. That’s my bad.”
Steve stares at him like he’s just seen the sun for the first time.
“I like your hair,” He says, because he can’t think of anything else to say and he really does.
Eddie Munson nearly drops him a second time. Just behind his ear, he too wears a phrase. Unscarred and unmarked. He has no problem showing it to Steve right there in their busy campus lunchroom.
“I like your hair.”
Eddie might be without Steve’s scars but he has some of his own. A life well lived, not very far from Steve. They don’t lament over lost time. After all, it was meant to be.
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sutorus · 9 months
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BUY ONE GET ONE FREE
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DESCRIPTION: gojo satoru and geto suguru are the jewels of your university. glued at the hip, you have your eyes set on one of the best friends, but you should already know to expect double the trouble with this packaged deal.
PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader
WC: 3.8k
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, some derogatory terms like s!ut :c), university!au, frat!au, characters are in their 20s, oral (fem receiving), gojo is a douche (sorry!) with a soft spot for you, gojo and geto are both taller than reader, gojo wants you sooo bad you don’t even know, dubcon if you squint, annoyances to… something else!, implied 3sum but that’s for part 2 ig bc i got tired. enjoy!
A/N: first fic here yayyyy pls support (kiss kiss
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they were those boys in your campus. every university had them, or so you’re told. the ones to be proud of, but also weary of. the ones who could show you a good time you’d probably regret the next morning. the ones you’d tell stories about and never really forget.
at your school, that was geto suguru and gojo satoru. you heard they knew each other since high school, best friends back then and best friends now. they were part of the most infamous party house, the most awarded college teams, the most scandalous groupchats, the most torrid bathroom stalls conversations. everybody knew them, every guy wanted to be them, every girl wanted to be with them. you know the drill.
and although this was only your second year, you’d had enough run-ins with them to know exactly what they wanted — and what you wanted, too.
the two were truly inseparable despite not being all that similar, just like brothers. considering the stories you’ve heard, that proximity would be almost weird if they weren’t so hot. but that’s a can of worms you don’t want to open and, most importantly, don’t need to open in order to sit on geto suguru’s dick.
because of course it’s geto. 
sure, gojo is hot — in a really fucking annoying way. in a way that makes you want to slap that stupid grin off his face every time he ogles you and your friends at a party. you’d go for it, really, if you didn’t have to live to see the next day. you knew gojo would never let you act like it never happened, and not in a romantic way, but in a disgusting braggy way. 
gojo satoru is hot as fuck but you’re not built to handle him, if you’re being honest. not innocent enough, not devoted enough, not googly-eyed and pink-glossy-lips-drooly enough. gojo satoru was complicated like that. he came with a warning label as big as a cvs receipt in which big bold red letters warned DO NOT TRUST. and you knew better, anyway. 
but geto? geto was pretty much perfect. his looks were sweet, dark and kind of edgy, like a black kitty with really sharp teeth. he had really cute fuck me eyes and really big veiny hands and a really cool manbun and you wanted to sit your ass on his fat sick. it was simple math. 
the only thing that preoccupied you, though, was his reputation. and not his manwhore reputation or his party animal reputation or his fucks-hard-and-doesn’t-cuddle-after reputation — no, who cares about that. what worried you was his reputation with his best friend gojo satoru. 
ever since you enrolled at your university you’ve been hearing rumors. apparently, the two of them were so close that they shared everything. everything. 
would never let a brother go hungry and all. 
so yes, there was the slight possibility (only corroborated by, i don’t know, the hundreds of girls you’ve heard the same story from) that geto would want a threeway. 
you, having sex with gojo satoru? you can’t say you’ve never thought about it. you did have that one class together, your freshman year. in retrospect, the fact that he was your senior and taking the same elective as you should’ve been enough of a red flag. 
by the end of the first lesson he came up to you and told you to text him if you ever needed any materials for the class, almost sounding sincere before shrugging and saying, “i’m just on top of things. by the way, would you like to be one of them?”
and scene. 
that was your first impression of gojo satoru. 
if you two fucked a year after that initial offer of his, would it be comical or tragic? he’d never look at you the same way — that is, he’d stop looking at you like he can see your tits through your shirt with x-ray vision and start looking at you like he has seen your tits because he will have. and that sounds annoying. 
but whatever. you’ve heard the stories of how gojo fucks, after all. it’s not like it would be a bad time. 
and tonight seems like the perfect night to make a stupid decision like that because geto looks so fucking delicious in a hawaiian shirt (how is that even possible?) leaning against his yucky frat’s wall and sipping a beer. 
god, you want to bite him. is that weird?
“is that weird?” you turn to shoko, who so kindly accompanied you to another house party with the promise of free, gojo-sponsored liquor. “i want to bite geto.”
shoko looks disgusted, all too acquainted with your ramblings about the guy. her eyes scan around the room before settling towards the kitchen. “i’ll leave you to it, then, and go get a drink. do not abandon me until i’m drunk enough to be by myself in this shithole.”
you nod to her before she’s off to get her fix. and you’re gearing up to get yours, adjusting your skirt and correcting your posture until a too familiar, grating voice yells out from behind you:
“yo!” 
you sigh, rolling your eyes before turning around. 
“gojo.”
he throws one of his long arms over your shoulders, pressing your sides together. your fingers absentmindedly go back to your skirt, pulling it down. 
gojo has to lean down to talk to you, his face hovering over yours. you can feel how hot his torso is against you, his white shirt already completely unbuttoned. it sends a shiver down your spine. 
“long time no see, cutie,” gojo’s breath is warm against your ear, his voice high to be heard over the music. he gestures with his solo cup, “how are you finding the facility?”
you look up and give him a tight smile. “gross as always! is there something you want, or…”
he laughs heartily, and you feel his whole body rattle against yours. you huff in annoyance, antsy to get a word in with geto before he’s occupied. 
“so mean to me!” he looks down at you and if it weren’t for his sunglasses, that he wears indoors at nighttime like a dick, you’d be able to see his eyes looking right down your cleavage. “just when i was coming here to do you a favor.”
you can’t help but laugh at that. 
“what in the world could you possibly do for me?” he lifts an eyebrow and your finger flies up in between your faces. “don’t answer that, actually.”
“i came here to tell you a very interesting secret,” he sing songs right into the shell of your ear, earning another shiver from you. you take the cup from his hand and sip, too distracted to know what it tastes like. nibbling on the plastic rim, you gesture for him to go on. 
gojo’s smile grows that much darker, that much more sinister, a dimple appearing on the side of his cheek. 
“a little birdie told me suguru’s dying to screw you tonight.”
your demeanor must visibly brighten at that information because gojo lets out another lurching laugh. your eyes instinctively zero in on geto, across from you, who’s either doing a really good job of pretending he doesn’t hear the two you talking in the doorway or is genuinely clueless as to what his best friend is saying about him. 
you force yourself to regain your composure, shoving gojo’s solo cup into his bare chest and wiggling out of his hold. “and you care because?”
but you suspect you already know the answer to that. he puts his hands up in mock surrender, and god, your height difference is kind of reeling. 
“like i said, ‘s just a favor,” you eye him suspiciously. he continues, “he wants to fuck you, you want to fuck him. i’m just being a nice guy.”
right. nice guy. 
“and who says i want to fuck him?” you try to play it cool, even though you probably know as much as satoru knows as much as suguru knows that you’d crawl on your knees towards geto right now if that meant you could put his cock in your mouth. 
and who could blame you? 
“playing dumb?” gojo pokes your cheek. his voice grows thicker, “cute. look at you,” and he does, hungrily, eyes scanning your entire form and making you feel oddly self conscious. 
he snakes a hand around your waist and leans in close again, whispering into your ear, “all dolled up just for him. in class with me you show up in other dudes’ hoodies but for darling suguru you dress slutty. everyone knows.”
you inhale sharply. what is he playing at? is he trying to get into your head or what? people dress up at parties, people want to fuck people, it’s a thing. god, gojo is so unbearable. 
you scowl up at him. 
“first of all,” you rip his hand from your waist and he lets it fall limply by his side. “second of all, again, how is that any of your business? salty you can’t get laid without the hotter best friend’s help?”
gojo just smirks, huffing out a chuckle through his nostrils. “you don’t have to worry about me, sweetheart. although i have to say, i do worry about you…”
“what? why?” you can’t help sounding sincere at his words. he twirls a piece of your hair with his index finger. 
“‘m just saying, what kind of best friend would i be if i handed you off to suguru without taking you for a test drive first?” gojo’s disgusting, he’s audacious and cocky and it’s doing something to you. you find yourself uncharacteristically quiet as he continues, “i mean, for all i know, you just might break once he gets inside.” 
“you’re ridiculous,” you manage to utter, feeling too small and too warm. geto is no longer in your line of sight and neither is shoko and you rapidly start to feel like you’ve fallen into the lion’s den without realizing. 
“you know i’m right,” and you don’t, really, you don’t think he’s right at all but why do you want to prove him wrong so badly? “c’mon, baby, lemme break ya in a little.”
that seems to snap you out of it. “ew. you’re disgusting, where is—“
“ugh, i love it when you degrade me,” he groans sardonically, hand leaving your waist and grabbing your hand instead. “come on. i’ll take you to him.”
whatever that feeling was just then, you shake it off and relunctantly let gojo guide you through the sea of bodies in his living room, the two of you earning some whistles from his friends. eyes too busy scanning for geto, you’re surprised when you suddenly end up in front of the bathroom. 
“quick pit stop!” gojo tries. you roll your eyes. 
“you won’t even try to take me to your bed? like, you live here,” you say. 
gojo is grinning. “nah, nah. room’s for the main attraction,” he winks and turns the doorknob, letting you go inside first. what a gentleman. “this shouldn’t take long.”
the bathroom door muffles the loud music outside, leaving your ears ringing in the silence. gojo looks like a douchebag, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, shirt unbuttoned and wet with some sort of liquor, and your eyes do not dare scan any lower than that. 
you suppose he is a douchebag.
but he sounds so painfully sincere when he whines low in his throat, “wanna kiss you so bad.” 
you laugh at his face, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter. 
“i’m serious,” he says, taking a step forward. you instinctively open your legs a little to make more room. 
“you want to what, ‘break me in’, you said?”
gojo laughs and that doesn’t sound sincere at all. he takes another step towards you, slotting his hips in between your thighs. 
“suguru’ll like it sloppy,” and that’s all the explanation he gives you before he’s closing the distance between you two, crashing your lips together. 
you should be feeling ill at his words. you should be pushing him away. if you had any self respect, you would. 
but his hands on you feel so good, he’s kissing you like, yeah, he wanted to so bad. his grip on your hips is almost bruising, pulling your body closer to his so he can grind against you. 
you moan into his mouth and he’s quick to return it, tongue pushing up against yours hungrily. you feel like you’re being devoured, the kiss all encompassing, but it’s not bad, it feels so so good and gojo is so good and—
he breaks your kiss to command, “wrap your legs around me,” and you do so immediately. 
his hands push your skirt up, grabbing your ass and pulling you that much closer to him. you tug on his hair, grinding down hard against him, and he lets out the sweetest, most pitiful moan that sends your head reeling. 
“gojo…” you say his name but you don’t know what for, don’t know what you want or what to ask or what to say, all you know is yes and good and more. “satoru—“
gojo whines and presses his lips to yours desperately, grinding his hard on against your clothed pussy. he’s big, you can feel him all over your cunt, and you suddenly need all these layers between you gone. 
“fuck, let me see,” he swallows hard, pushing your shirt up fully. “lemme see those tits baby, that’s it—”
you puff your chest out when gojo pulls your bra down. you expect him to go for your boobs but instead he goes back in for a kiss, panting into your mouth. 
god, it’s too much. for how collected he acts one hundred percent of the time, seeing gojo satoru disheveled is a power trip. 
“touch me,” you mumble against his lips. 
he gives you a few pecks, nibbling your bottom lip before pulling away. 
“fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” gojo says, one hand grabbing your tit and another pulling your panties to the side. the cool air on your dripping core makes you shudder, and you feel yourself gush at the slightest brush of his fingers against you. 
he bends down to pop a nipple into his mouth and you arch your back, gripping his hair hard, ‘cause apparently he likes that. you both let out a unison moan as he sucks, saliva audibly swishing inside his mouth. 
you know it’s gonna leave a mark, he’s gonna leave a lot of bruises as he bites and sucks and keeps you distracted while he slips a finger into your wet core. 
you suddenly regain conscience and remember the man working your body with nothing more than his hands and mouth probably has a pretty painful big hard cock inside his pants, so you reach out to help him. 
“wait,” he says, mouth popping against your breast, “wait, you can suck it, i just wanna—i gotta do this first, lemme—“
that’s all he says before giving you another kiss and dropping to his knees. 
you’re obviously not going to complain, you can neglect his dick just fine, nevermind the fact that you want it inside you immediately. but in the meantime, gojo’s got two fingers pumping in and out of you and he’s about to put his face between your legs. 
it’s beautiful, it’s a lot, you want it so fucking bad and it shows. 
“so fucking wet, all f’me” he lays his tongue flat against your clit and licks a fat stripe up your pussy, making you groan in anticipation for what’s to come. “been thinking of this pretty pussy for so long.”
“yeah?,” you whine, brushing some hair away from his face before coaxing his head closer to where you want it. gojo moans in response and starts working his tongue in tight circles over your clit. 
fuck, is gojo satoru in a frat bathroom the best head you’ve ever had? he might be, with the way he expertly rubs his fingers against your walls, instantly finding that spongy patch that makes you jut your hips out. 
“fuck, right there,” you grind against his face, delighting yourself in the debauched moans he makes against your cunt. not only does it feel good, it looks so fucking hot and you can’t tear your eyes away. “stay right there, you’re so good.”
the way he eats it like he needs to, like it’ll save your life, like this alone is enough to make the both of you cum, you can’t help the too-honest praise tumbling from your lips. 
“yeah? tastes so fucking good” he mumbles, rubbing a thumb over your clit. you nod, bottom lip held tightly between your teeth. “play with your tits, baby, those juicy fucking tits, do it for me.”
you obey, head hanging back in pleasure. you keep one hand anchored firmly in his hair, your fingers gripping so hard they start to tingle. 
you shove his face closer, earning a deep groan from him. he noses at your pussy, replacing his fingers in your entrance with his tongue, fucking in and out of you. your breathing has lost all rhythm, your chest feels tight and on fire and a bead of sweat rolls down your back. 
you can faintly make out gojo asking do you like this? just like this baby? and all you can say in response is a string of “yeahs” and breathy little moans. they almost sound surprised, and they might be, because every twist of his tongue and every brush of his fingers knocks the breath right out your lungs. 
it’s so much pleasure that it doesn’t make sense. you think, suddenly, this is why people do drugs, this is why people develop addictions because you have no fucking clue how you’re supposed to live without gojo satoru between your legs from now on. 
“satoru. i wanna cum,” you whine, mind to mouth filter completely obliterated because all you want to do is fucking cum for gojo satoru. message relayed. 
“fuck yeah, baby, you wanna cum? i’m gonna make you cum?” he’d sound pathetic if you didn’t know how much of a whore he was. his fingers go back inside you and speed up ever so slightly, his lips wrapping around your clit. gojo’s tongue works you over and over and over and all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the sound of gojo swallowing every few seconds. 
he doesn’t stop, mumbles his dirty talk right into your pussy, like fucking cum for me baby cum all over my face yeah do it i’m gonna make you cum so hard god you look so fucking sexy wanna fuck you so bad, and you don’t want to know why but it makes you all the more intent in coming the hardest you ever have. 
you grip gojo’s hair and grind into his face mercilessly, revelling in the gurgling sounds coming from between your legs. 
“ohhh fuck, fuck, satoru i’m so close, just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“ gojo groans, using his free hand to play with your nipple. 
it’s too much, it’s too good, the coil in your belly that’s been building up since you started entertaining the idea of maybe getting laid tonight finally snapping. 
you’re sure you’ve never been this loud as you cum, hard, you can feel it gushing out of you and right into gojo’s awaiting mouth. with ringing ears and trembling legs, you find purchase in his hair as you keep cumming for him. 
the muscles on your thighs seize up as you ride out your orgasm against gojo’s face, your feet trying to find any sort of balance or solid ground. but you wiggle desperately in his hold, the man below you fulfilling his promise of drinking every last drop of you until the two of you are satisfied. 
you’re catching your breath when gojo finally pulls away from you, his face and neck flushed as you’re sure yours are. your back falls against the foggy bathroom mirror, chest rising and falling dramatically as you catch your breath. 
he finally stands up, sneaking a very obvious hand down his pants to readjust his erection. once he catches your gaze, he smirks at you. 
you try to roll your eyes, you really do, but what comes out is a slow, languid blink. you’re completely fucked out and he loves it, leans in to kiss you so fucking deep you taste yourself all over his mouth.  
before you can do anything else, anything more or less than kiss him back, you hear three knocks on the door. 
they’re gentle, nothing like the sound of a pissed off college student, murderous because you’re hogging the bathroom. 
gojo pushes himself away from you, grinning. “right on time.”
he grabs both your tits in his hands and plants a wet kiss on one, then the other, before pulling your shirt back down. 
you’re still dumbfounded, your overworked body slumped against the bathroom counter. 
before you have time to react, gojo’s opening the door to let geto suguru in. 
your body jolts, legs closing shut in what’s almost abject horror. you nearly forgot he’s what you came to this party for. 
it feels like you got caught red handed, and it must show on your face because geto shakes his head and laughs that pretty, sexy laugh, waving a hand around to tell you it’s okay. 
“please, don’t stop on my account,” are his first words to you tonight. 
you would say something if you weren’t sure your voice would fail you. but like usual, gojo satoru can’t stay quiet for too long.
“all done. she’s too easy” he announces cheerily, but the funny thing is, he doesn’t leave. instead, geto lets the bathroom door close behind him as he crowds in. 
you realize this space is far too small for two very tall men, most definitely far too small for whatever is about to go down between the three of you, and your calming heart starts to race again. 
“hey, pretty,” geto reaches out and wipes the side of your lip. “having fun?”
you can only nod, looking at gojo satoru of all people for answers.
he looks at you like he hasn’t just eaten your pussy with the intensity of a starving man, like he wants to do it again, right now. 
geto is sporting a similar look of hunger, looking between you and gojo and quickly assessing the situation that just happened here. 
this is weird. this is so fucking weird and so stupidly hot. 
“wanna take her for a ride next?” gojo asks geto like he’s not talking about a person, like you don’t have a say in it, like you belong to the both of them to play with, and it turns your brain to mush. 
geto smiles, handsome and dangerous. 
“what do you say, honey?” this time he addresses you. you swallow hard, looking between the two men in front of you. gojo grabs the outline of his hard cock through his pants, a reminder that whatever this is, it isn’t over just yet. “down to have double the fun?”
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bruciemilf · 3 months
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It’s been exactly fifteen years, two days, 4 minutes, and 33.5 seconds since the Wayne murder. Bruce can feel time crawling under his skin, like filth under fingernail, like it’s a breathing, screaming thing.
It’s an endless, infinite supply. And yet, he feels like he’s running out of it.
The details are carved deep; Alfred’s cologne lingering on both his mother’s Stefano Cabbana fur coat, Snow White and fluffy, and his father’s sharp-looking leather jacket.
The gunsmoke. The pearls bleeding on the pavement.
“Your mother wore Armani, actually.”
The Waynes are known to cheat Death, but this is getting ridiculous.
“You’re not here.”
The Riddler, — Edward. His name is Edward Nashton, 29-years-old, forsenic accountant, Bruce’s former classmate at Gotham University.
He’s just a man, not a monster, — gasps, wide eyes confused, “Who are you talking to?”
Thomas watches Bruce’s, — Batman’s hands tighten around the swamp green jacket with mildly tamed amusement. Almost like Bruce is an infant again, shaking on his first steps.
“Pretty sure I am, chum. Also, you might wanna move Eddie here to a coffee table. That shit looks sturdy. YOU were made on one, I think,—“
He cringes, but does as he’s told. Edward’s coffee screeches when Batman slams him across it like loose change, “I’d rather not think about that.”
“Honey, it’s a very romantic story, and I resent Alfred for not talking to you about it. Now go grab a drill and some duct tape. Oh, don’t make that face, — His adrenaline levels are higher than a fucking drop head.”
Bruce doesn’t want to do it. Something just compels him to. Thomas scoffs but Bruce is too focused on the drill biting through bone to notice. Edward doesn’t feel any pain. He’s just under the illusion of it, which seems much crueler.
“You would’ve KNOWN that if you stayed in school. “
“Why are you here?”
“Now that,” His father’s smile is a serpentine, alluring and full thoothed and stained with Maverick cigarettes. His hair is slicked, crowned by red lensed sunglasses.
He looked for a dead man. “Is a smart guy question.”
He doesn’t sleep. He can’t.
“Your father was a hundred different things, “ Alfred sighs at him, stitching up his wounds in a tight, secure pattern. Thomas’. The ghost of the hour. “And I never understood any of them.”
Bruce is about to ask more, expand a stream of curiosity, when footsteps bang against the cave’s massive interior.
He knows each child by foot, by volume, by rhythm.
He’d know Jason dead or alive.
He’s about to greet him, choosing to ignore his father’s ghost flirting with an unsuspecting Alfred, when his baby bird beats him to it.
“Why the fuck is your dead mom following me?”
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love-quinn · 2 months
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RIGHT BACK ━━━ remus lupin x reader
━━━ 𖥻︰ 1899 words
summary: you and remus meet in a way that is predictable for you both; hiding from the rest of the school.
pairing: remus lupin x reader
tags: remus lupin x reader, no pronouns but reader wears a skirt and is referred to as a girl, reader is in the same year as the marauders but house is unspecified, slightly shy reader coming out of her shell, reader and remus are both bookworms, one single swearword
The wooden panelling of the window was sticking into your back but you weren’t planning on moving. The sun was hitting your back in a way that filled you up completely. You had your current read in your lap, curling your neck into a crevice. The East hallway on the fifth floor was pretty much deserted most afternoons, most of the classrooms up there were for classes that no longer ran anymore. 
Summer was quickly approaching, and with summer came the end to your time at Hogwarts. You weren’t a hundred percent sure you knew what you were doing after you finished school, you knew the general field, but you didn’t have a dream job or anything. 
The pages of your book were browned by the sunshine, and it was hot to the touch as you flipped the page. 
There was the distant sound of footsteps, and you shrunk further into your alcove, a little sunset set right into a window that overlooked the Quidditch pitch. The Hufflepuffs were training down there, and you watched them zoom around between pages. 
You had nowhere you were meant to be, it was hours until curfew and the wing wasn’t off limits. No danger of getting in trouble. 
The footsteps slowed to a stop around the corner, you couldn’t see them with your back pressed into the panelling. Eventually, you heard a breath, and swivelled your neck to see who was there. You recognised him from a few of your classes, and just from around. He was tall, taller than the rest of his friends, with messy hair and a heaving chest. 
You weren’t staring at him, but you were definitely looking. He locked eyes with you and gave a sheepish smile. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re alright,” you said gently. “What were you running from?”
He looked embarrassed to have been caught. “Oh, just… you know.”
You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Right.”
He looked back in the direction he had come. “Don’t think anyone will come up here looking for me. I don’t suppose you mind sharing your hiding spot with me?” He asked softly. 
You pulled your knees closer to your chest, giving him enough room on the seat to sit. There was already room, it was deep enough for you both to sit side by side, but you figured he’d want the space. “I’ve seen you around loads,” he said, tucking himself away. His eyes were the colour of honey in the sunlight. He sat cross-legged, sleeves of his jumper pulled over his slender fingers. “Are we in the same muggle studies class?”
You nodded, pleased with the recognition. “I don’t know why you take that class, you already know everything.”
“My mum’s a muggle born,” he laughed, ducking his head. “But she was never able to share that stuff with me as much as she wants to, not with… all this,” he gestured around and your eyes fell to the quidditch team on the ground. They were packing up, dusk was coming soon. 
“That’s really sweet,” you said honestly, smiling behind where you held your book against your chin. 
He gave you a mirrored grin, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to remind me of your name. I’m normally not this rude, I promise.”
You told him and he snapped his fingers like you’d just given him some sort of breakthrough. “Right, I am awfully sorry.”
You shook your head, leaning against the glass of the window. “There’s no need to be sorry.”
He studied your face for a second, a frown working its way into his eyebrows. “You already know my name,” he guessed.
You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. “I get you guys confused,” you said airily. “You’re either Remus or Sirius.”
He groaned, forehead landing on your knee. “Don’t say that to me, I thought we were becoming friends.” He wiped his hand over his face. “Do I look like much of a Sirius?”
“About as much as you look like a Remus,” you reasoned. That wasn’t entirely true. Remus was soft, it was a cosy name that had some sort of academic background you couldn’t recall. Sirius was a star, you’d learned in mandatory first-year astronomy. You’d never spoken to any of Remus’s friends, but if you had to guess any of them to be named after a star, you’d pick Sirius, charming smiles and chipped nails. 
“Godric, just say you hate me.” He said dramatically. “I can never tell him that, he’ll be over the moon.”
You smiled at that, and he brightened. He’d been trying to pull a real, proper, one out of you since he’d arrived. He gave them a lot more liberally than you did apparently. Remus couldn’t really imagine looking at your face and not smiling. 
There were more footsteps and Remus sighed. “I’d better head off. You only need one idiot interrupting you.”
You didn’t correct him, though you wanted to. He walked off with the air of someone who wasn’t actively being chased. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” you said agreeably, not really believing him. He’d been a lot nicer than you’d expected. All three of them, Remus, Sirius and their friend James, were fairly intimidating. Taller than most of the other seventh-years, James was the captain of the Quidditch team and Head Boy, and Sirius had his own reputation. It was easy to see them as scary. They’d never done anything to you to cement the idea, but they’d also never done anything to disprove it. Not until then, anyway.
Dinner arrived and you took your book back to the Great Hall to eat. You sat with your friends and had almost forgotten about your encounter with the boy until the next afternoon. There was a summer storm coming, heralding in the season, with thick grey clouds off in the distance. For the moment, though, it was as warm as ever, and you were looking forward to being stretched out on the seat and continuing your book. You had friends, roommates, classmates, plenty of people who would be more than happy to let you keep them company after classes ended. But you liked coming up here. Hogwarts was often busy, especially outside, especially in the warmer months. You got to people watch in the quiet, and you didn’t mind it. The large windows gave you a view of the changing weeks without needing to ever alter your routine to suit the weather. 
When you reached the seat, though, it wasn’t empty. Remus Lupin was sitting there with his History of Magic textbook open on his lap. You stood there for a moment, right in the spot he had been when you had seen him the afternoon earlier. 
“You can sit,” Remus teased, “I don’t mind sharing.”
You sat, flattening your skirt and mirroring his crossed legs. His were a lot longer than yours, but there was more than enough space for you to give him extra legroom. “Oh, how generous.”
“I brought a book as well,” he held it up. “Mine’s nonfiction, though. I get shy. Figured I didn’t want to put you out too much. Not that I have to stay, of course.”
You shook your head. “Like I said, you’re alright. I can’t really picture you being shy about anything.”
He beamed. “Oh, you should see some of my books.” He let out a puff of air like he hadn’t used enough of his breath by talking. “It’s appalling, honestly. You’d lose all respect for me.”
“I don’t care what you read,” you assured him.
He shook his head. “No, it’s the state of them. You seem like one of those people who think books are this sacred thing - which, don’t get me wrong, I agree. But the state of them, I think I’ve written more in margins than I ever have for school.”
You let out a laugh, not too loud for how close you two were sitting, but loud enough that he could make out each individual layer of your voice. You flipped over your book and showed him your annotations that you had made months ago. This was your favourite, and you’d reread it dozens of times. “Ah, one of us I see,” Remus said happily. His whole face lifted when he smiled, like a spring that had finally let go and been snapped back to its original position. 
“This one’s blank, I donate my books back to the school at the end of the year,” he explained. You didn’t even realise the school did that, you’d always gotten your books from Diagon Alley at the beginning of each year. You did vaguely remember seeing old potions textbooks in the bottom of the ingredients cupboard. 
“Of course you do,” you shook your head, looking down at your lap and stifling a giggle. “Pack of saints, you lot are.”
Remus looked offended. “I resent your insinuation, evil girl.”
You raised your eyebrows innocently. “I’m just saying, I’m pretty sure I saw one of you throw a dungbomb across the hall during breakfast yesterday morning. I find it rather difficult to connect that person to this one.”
“I am multifaceted,” Remus said matter-of-factly. “Besides, that was James. I had no part in it.”
You gave him an appraising look, but he didn’t waver. “Of course. Where do your friends think you are, anyway?”
That surprised him well and truly. You’d been a bit of a surprise as a whole, really. You usually kept to yourself as far as Remus had seen. Even when you were with your friends, Remus had never heard you talk as comfortably as you seemed to be doing with him. He didn’t understand why you’d ask him that. “Here,” he said like it was obvious. It should have been. “With you.”
“Oh,” your eyebrows furrowed and then your face cleared with much deliberation. “Of course, right.”
“Why would I lie about coming to see you?” He asked, looking right at your face. Your eyeline was still in your lap. “I think you’re great. I want to get to know you better.”
You finally looked up at him and he felt the sun hit his face again, despite the fact that it was now hidden behind the impending clouds. “I want to get to know you better, too, Remus.”
He flashed you a wide grin. “I’ll have to ask their permission, of course.” He was teasing you again. You rolled your eyes and uncrossed your legs, stretching them so you could kick him as gently as possible. 
“I hope they’ll like me,” you didn’t realise you did until you said it out loud. 
“James’ll love you,” Remus said casually, like you were actually planning on meeting him. Neither of you had any intentions on breaking from your new tradition, especially not so early on. “It’s Sirius you’ll have to win over.”
You bit your lip. “I have to like, prove my intentions with you, or something?”
Remus laughed, and the sound echoed around the corridor. “No, no, you could fuck me over royally and he wouldn’t care.” Your laugh joined his and Remus scooched as close as he could in such a confined space. You didn’t mind, your thigh pressed against his. He finally spoke up again after a minute, voice filled with honey. “No, you’re just much prettier than he is.”
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