#when in reality she’s actually kind of a bitch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pupcuck · 3 months

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NYMPHOMANIA !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. daddy-daughter incest, femcel reader :3, reader wants to get raped so she talks about that, dub-con for like a paragraph, suicidal thoughts, awful thoughts in general, tiny bit of somno, threats, spanking, slapping

note. HAII :3 back on my femcel shit… god i rewrote this like 15 times and restarted over and over so i hate this 😭 it’s clunky so ignore any mistakes!!! feedback n rbs always so appreciated <3 was thinking of og4 leon but.. honestly idk atp !! anyway sorry again for the slow decrease in quality in this .. title has nothing to do w the fic ack ok bye :3

tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

There are two things you want to get off your chest.

You are not, under any circumstances, ugly. Your face just takes getting used to. (This is a cope.)

You have a crush on your dad. No excuse for this one. Cupid is a conniving bastard. That’s that.

These might not seem like related issues, but they most certainly are because being ugly is hard, and having a crush on your dad is equally as hard.

You’re a sweet girl, you didn’t choose to come out ugly, it’s not your fault you turned out this way. It’s unfair, but ultimately no one meant for it to happen

(Well, you hope no one meant for it to happen unless someone had a vendetta against your mother and cursed her firstborn. She’s an irritating lady, you can see why someone would do so.)

You won’t even be the kind of below-average woman who marries a mediocre man to have mediocre sex to make mediocre kids to live in caustic mediocrity. You have one friend, she’s an online friend, and she might be a lonely old man. To be entirely honest you would prefer that. ‘Cause that would mean someone out there wants to creep on you.

If you weren’t ugly, having a crush on your dad would be socially acceptable. That’s why daddy-daughter porn spans pages and pages and pages of Pornhub. Everyone loves to watch a busty, blonde slut on her dad’s dick. If you didn’t have a crush on your dad, being ugly would be perfectly fine— No, that’s wrong.

Being ugly is never fine. Being ugly is on the same level as being a rapist. Being ugly in the presence of people who are objectively not ugly is, like, worse than being a rapist. ‘Cause all the dudes in high school were rapists in the making. Ted Bundy-style shit.

Grope an ugly bitch in the bathrooms and she wouldn’t speak up, and if she did— She just wouldn’t actually. Would be burnt at the stake Salem style. Hung. Crucifixion perhaps. Ugly girls aren’t good enough to die like martyrs did, however. Especially not ugly girls who cry wolf.

Why on God’s green earth would a hot guy go out of his way to slap a freaky-looking girl’s ass, right? Got girls lined up down the halls waiting for him to sign their perky tits, he doesn’t need to rape. It must be wishful thinking on her part, right? A wet dream she took as reality.

Why would you say that? Do you want to throw what he’s worked for down the drain? Accusations like this, they’re not jokes, y’know that? He’s got a scholarship, college wouldn’t take something like this so lightly.

Aw, you miss her. This goth chick in senior year. Your sorta friend. When it all went down and she had nowhere else to go, you invited her over because you’re a nice girl with no nefarious intentions. None at all. When she lay beside you at night, and she opened up, and she thanked you for believing her, you totally did not have your hand in your panties. And you totally did not rub yourself raw while she spoke about it in excruciating detail. You did not treat her rape case as erotica.

The dude got away with it of course. He was on TV the other day in fact. NFL. Baltimore Ravens. Still stupid hot. God, you wish it was you he picked - wouldn’t have told a single soul. Would’ve sucked the sweat from his jockstrap without complaint.

You’re too repulsive to be touched or raped, and you’ve learnt to live with that. Passing out in alleyways would result in rapists who frequent the area to avoid those very alleyways. Only your hand knows the cushiony softness of your tits, the wetness between your legs, how great your mouth feels— Only your dildo knows that, but you can imagine it’s good. You’re a total catch. A nympho. Men love nymphos when they’re pretty, which you are not. So you’re a nympho without the sex appeal. So in other words you are a pervert. A degenerate. A fucking freak.

It’s time to start sticking your fingers down your throat. ‘Cause that’s what gorgeous girls do to achieve that grave-robbed look. Heroin chic. Modelesque. It’s all the same type of beautiful. Emaciated and sickly. Dead girls are the sexiest ‘cause they can’t say yes or no and if there’s no no then it’s a yes. A nymphetic loophole of sorts. Men love dead girls that double as nymphos. Unfortunately, you are well and alive. Walking into traffic seems like fun, but you would be classed as roadkill, and it wouldn’t be tragically beautiful, just embarrassing to get scraped off the concrete like that. Even in death, you would be ugly because you are ugly to your very core. Your bone marrow is so ugly no scientist would want to make stem cells out of it, polynucleotides so deformed— You’re ugly. No need to wax poetic about it. Nothing poetic about being ugly.

Dad is the closest a human being can get to perfection. A divine image. Michelangelo is, like, dead and gone. David should've died alongside him. Dad deserves to take his place in the Accademia Gallery. With the way people gawk at him, he might as well be art. You’re surprised he doesn’t sell tickets to merely exist in his presence. He’s hot like a Calvin Klein model, and mom is hot like a regular model. Due to how you’ve turned out, you have a few qualms with your mother.

Like, what the fuck happened to you in her womb? Did someone take a mallet to one side of her belly to ensure her child came out as asymmetrical as one can be? A lack of nutrients maybe? Was she dieting during the pregnancy? Did dad fuck her too hard? Busted her womb up or some shit.

It simply might be that two rights make a wrong.

Or you were a tester before she popped your siblings out. Little ichor-filled putto. They were child models, scouted in their diapers, and you would stand behind your mother and the cameraman so hurt you couldn’t even feel jealous. Now they’re all grown up, fully-fledged erotes, and they’re working and doing all this shit you still haven’t managed to get a grasp on. Navigating the world as an ugly bitch is terribly hard.

Rape kinks are developed, dads get crushed on - awful, terrible things happen when girls are ugly and alone and unable to leave the comfort of their bedrooms.

Pretty girls have daddy issues that are dealt with in standard pretty girl fashion - finding emotionally unavailable, salt-and-pepper-haired men to fill every hole, including the one in their doll hearts. The thing is pretty girls don’t go for their dads. ‘Cause a lot of the time dads are gross. Dads do not look like your dad does. And to be fair you don’t exactly have daddy issues. Your dad is present and he doesn’t hit or shout or do anything out of the norm. Maybe this is a you issue.

It is a you issue, not even an ugly girl issue or an any type of girl issue. It’s your issue and yours alone.

It is your issue that when Leon asks what you want for dinner you almost ask for his hand around your throat or his hand in marriage. Either would be fine. Both would be preferred.

Severing your relationship would be even better. Goddamn, girls with absent fathers are lucky. You wish he was anything but your dad— It’s just that if you weren’t his daughter, dad wouldn’t ever look your way, he would pass by you like every man does.

Dad is a busy guy, and he’s a strange guy in the sense that he’s never really bothered with you. He loves your sister, and he loves your brother. But everyone loves those two. You don’t think he likes you very much, you can deal with that. Doesn’t mean you have daddy issues ‘cause no one likes you very much. So it’s a you issue and you should try harder.

Leon’s home early today. He’s collapsed on the couch, withered into himself like he always is after business trips. Mom said not to disturb him. You don’t. Then you do. This is like crack to you. Dad.

More specifically, dad without mom hovering over him. Dad’s sleeping so your brain is not stewed by his intense gaze. It only ever lingers on you for merely a second, but your stomach flips like you’ve got appendicitis and your legs spread involuntarily.

He’s a light sleeper, you’re well aware. He’s also a living, breathing Ken doll so you don’t put much thought into it when you reach out to ghost your fingers along the bridge of his nose. So pointy it could pierce your clit. Your clit. His nose. Oh, it could work so well, you want to grind yourself to mush against it.

Until dad shifts, he’s so beautiful up close you almost forget he’s real, not a wax figure. You trace the straight edge of his jaw, then thumb his petal lips, dragging your pointer finger over the fuller bottom one to push the tip into his wet mouth. Your dad is a slut. ‘Cause he sucks for a good second or two. Heat licks at your insides. You might vomit. His spit glistens like cobwebs when you take it back. That hand is shoved down your pants. That finger finds your clit, uses what spit is left to get it nice and wet. Which is totally unneeded, you’ve been soaked since god knows when, your pussy doesn’t know when to quit.

Feels good knowing that a part of dad is in you, his spit pushed into your hole. You’ll give him something back, it’s only fair, you smear your slick on the spot you traced. His tongue pokes out, likely to combat dry mouth, it swipes along his bottom lip— He tastes you. Heat engulfs you, chars your body from the inside out, the scent of rotting meat is in your nostrils.

Dad tasted you.

Holy fuck. You sit there with a trembling smile, staring down at him and he does not rouse. Shit, you’re creepy and you know it, but you’re not stupid. What other chance do you have? You unzip his old shearling jacket, underneath is that compression shirt that fits him too well. You map out the ridges of his abs, the slight dip between his pecs, every hard line that makes up his body. He smells so sexy, lavender and leather, must be some sorta pheromone ‘cause all you want to do is drop your face into his tits to bathe in that scent, to have it stick to your skin. Shit. Holy fucking shit. You’ve got a sex doll instead of a dad. That explains the distantness. He’s made of silicone.

The door clicks the moment you find it in yourself to click open his belt.

“What're you doing?” Mom ruins everything. She’s had it out for you the moment you formed in her womb. “He’s sleeping, don’t disturb him.” She says tersely, placing her Coach Tabby on the coffee table.

“He was cold.” That’s why his nipples are peaking, piercing the fabric of that shirt. Should be illegal to wear that in public. He’s asking for it.

“Yeah?” She asks, unconvinced, bending down to unclasp her heels.

“Yeah.” You stand up, dad’s indirect kiss on your cunt, shoot her a nasty sneer before you scuttle away to your bedroom for the rest of the day.

There are stairs that creak and stairs that don’t. You hang around down here at midnight often so you know the right path to take as to not alert your parents of your presence. They’re speaking about you.

“—be careful around her.” Truly, you hate your mother.

“What is there to be careful about?” Right? You tell her dad.

“Just, just be careful. She doesn’t y’know.”

“She doesn’t what?”

“She doesn’t get off her ass, she doesn’t talk to anyone but, well, I don’t know actually, she doesn’t talk to anyone at all.” You could pretend and say it hurts, but it doesn’t. There’s nothing insulting about the truth.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“You’re a guy, she doesn't talk to guys.”

“We don’t talk much either.” Dad is too stiff to make conversation, and you collapse anytime he breathes in your general direction.

“Yeah, but, Leon.” Mom sounds exasperated, but she’s not getting her point across well. She should know better, dad’s skull is thicker than cement. “I’m worried.”

“What, for me or her?”

“Her, obviously, I don’t want her to… I want her to get out, like, I want her to do stuff,” mom sniffles, she is so putting this on to make dad feel guilty. “It’s so hard to watch your adult daughter just sit in a room and do nothing all day, Leon, she’s like a big fucking baby, why is she like that?”

“Babe,” he coos, and your knees buckle.

“Go talk to her.”

“What?”

“Go talk to her about it,” Mom repeats, voice shaking. “She doesn’t listen to me.”

They go back and forth for a few minutes, and then dad sighs and says fine. You make haste back to your hovel that doubles as a bedroom, crawl into bed and try to look natural.

Leon clears his throat before he knocks, when you don’t answer he pokes his head in. He says your name and you stir, sheets taut to your body as you peek up at him.

“You should open a window in here.”

When you don’t respond, he sits at the foot of your bed, looks around and nods. His gaze is scathing. Not purposefully. You just take it that way.

“Dinner’s ready,” he lies, then he leaves. His perfume lingers, and you touch the space he was sitting in, his warmth remains.

The day after that, you’re in the living room, tuckered out after mom forced you to help her with the groceries. You’re not cut out for this sort of life. The living sort of life. You were made to rot.

“Door wasn’t locked,” Leon says when he steps in, he puts his keys down, shucks his jacket off, tracks mud halfway down the hall and into the kitchen.

“Your shoes, Leon,” Mom groans, “she came in last.”

“Oh, sorry,” you say absentmindedly. If it doesn’t include tits or dicks or pussy it is none of your business. You have enough energy to keep up with one thing and that is your porn addiction. Groceries really took it out of you.

“You should be careful, rapists might come in, murderers or some shit.” Leon is speaking to your mother. Not you because he has seen your face and he knows very well that an ugly girl like you would survive out of sheer ugliness.

Mom snorts, “I think you’re the scariest thing that could walk through that door, honey.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

You’d like to know what that means too. Well, you get the gist, ‘cause you’ve heard all those stories. Dad and his wandering hands.

“You know what that means.” The sound of lips smacking is enough to have you feeling sick, dizzy as you cling to the walls and make your escape. “Did she leave— Quit it, Leon— Hands off, can you go talk to her, please? Properly this time.”

He forgets to knock this time, or he can’t bother to knock. Dad sits in that same spot, he opens his mouth and closes it about five times.

“Mom’s worried about you,” Leon says robotically. “You good?”

“I’m great.” Your tone is unconvincing, but he clearly doesn’t care enough because you're his dirty little secret. Not in a sex way. You would do anything for it to be in the sex way. Dirty little secret as in the ugly kid he chooses to ignore purely because you’re ugly. Dad doesn’t like ugly girls, you know that. He doesn’t think they’re worth a second glance, even a first glance is too much. Dad is superficial and his love is plastic.

These are all things you’re making up in your head based on assumptions. This is how all attractive men think. Ugly girls aren’t worth rape, dirtying your dick in ugly pussy sounds like a hassle. If you were pretty, you wouldn’t fuck an ugly guy. Even as a self-proclaimed ugly girl, you still wouldn’t fuck an ugly guy ‘cause they’re gross, and it’s not like they want you. Ugly guys shoot high and aim for pretty girls. Duh.

So you get it. Honestly. Whatever. Dad doesn’t like you. That’s okay, you don’t like him as a dad anyway. You love him like an obsessive lover. A hallway crush that stars in your late-night rape fantasies. And you’re fine like this. You’re so fine.

“Can I… Can I actually have a hug, dad?” You muster up what is left in your hollow heart to ask him that. It’s a big deal.

Leon blinks at you, levels you with his blank stare. He’s so handsome you want to blow your brains out, it’s an easy feat because you’re always looking for reasons to blow your brains out. Every straw is your last and yet you’re still here.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Dad opens his arms, and you crawl towards him, head on his shoulder as his arms loop around your waist. Oh, god, you will your heart into giving out. Dying right here in dad’s arms is ideal.

He holds you so gently it’s brutal. He crushes you with the weight of his loveless love. Dad’s so good at pretending you almost think he cares.

“Can you… I want to stay like this.”

“Uh, sure, sweetheart,” Leon calls everyone sweetheart. Sweetheart is his default. Sweetheart ranges from Auntie Ashley to babysitters to lifeguards and retail workers who aren’t getting paid enough to deal with some old man making eyes at them. Not that anyone minds dad’s attention. It’s fucking unfair. Mom is babe, and your sister is baby, and your brother is buddy or sport or tiger or whatever shit he pulls out of his ass. And you’re sweetheart because you’re not important to him. His firstborn daughter is not important to him ‘cause she’s ugly. More of a specimen than a human.

You would do anything to keep him here.

“Dad?” You whisper into his neck.

“…Yeah?”

“I want you to…” Your lack of life flashes in front of your eyes. Bedroom. Bedroom. Porn. Bedroom. Porn. Porn. Dad. Not much. What have you got to lose? “I want to— I want to fuck you.”

Dad is silent. Then: “Oh.” He never makes the move to pull away, so you sit snugly in his grip for a few seconds longer.

“I— Dad, I touch myself thinkin’ about you.” Your stomach ties itself into a Gordian knot.

“Yeah, okay, why don’t we— Yeah, fuck, I see what she meant, okay. Wow, that’s a lot. Sweetheart, why… Listen.” Dad says a whole lot of nothing as he takes your hands off him.

“Please… I love you, dad. I really like you— I know it’s weird, dad, I do, seriously, I know, but please I just… I just like you.” There is no explanation for it. “Dad… Daddy.”

He full-on winces. It’s like you’re being flayed. Something inside of you just— Just shatters. Not your heart ‘cause it’s pumping more blood than it ever has. Fragments of your sanity splinter into even smaller segments until there is nothing left but nauseating levels of mental disturbance.

“If you don’t…”

“You seriously trying that right now?” Leon scoffs, and he’s so cocky you get hot under the collar.

(Between your thighs too, but that’s a different story.)

“Yeah, I’m serious— If you don’t… If you don’t do it- do it with me, I’ll tell mom you… I’ll tell her you raped me.” In actuality, you would never tell mom if daddy raped you. You would treasure it, keep it in a heart-shaped locket and think about it when you get off twelve times a day. Getting your pussy reamed by dad’s cock would fix you right up.

“Don’t— Are you okay?” Leon smacks your hand away, his tone is even.

“You do it too— I know you’ve done it, I know how you and mom met.”

His face drains, pallor yellowish. “That don’t… That’s different.”

“How is that any different?” Different ‘cause he’s hot and mom is hot. Leon passed it off as a drunken mistake and they end up getting together. It’s not rape if the perpetrator is a hottie. You agree, but still— It’s not fucking fair.

“‘Cause I didn’t do this.” Leon gestures abstractly.

You kiss him, hands braced on each of his tits, digging your fingers into the meat to feel him tense and harden like he’s wearing a chest plate. “You’re so hot dad,” you whine into his mouth, and Leon is quick to push you off, your wrists in his hands. Makeshift handcuffs.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Dad is using his dad voice. It’s like porn to you, only makes you wetter. “I don’t like hitting girls, but you’re givin’ me a damn good reason.”

“You can hit me, daddy.” You offer your face to him, stretching your neck forward, closing your eyes as you wait for the impact. It lands firm on your cheek, his fingertips catching the tip of your nose. Fuck that felt good. Shit. You think you’ve creamed your panties. “Again, dad, hit me again—“ He does. Harder than the last time. Your head knocks backwards, and your brain must have a dent in it.

Dad puts you over his lap and you’re so sure you’ve entered the pearly gates. Or the innermost circle of hell. Probably that ‘cause Jesus Christ are you steaming.

“I hate stupid little sluts that try it out on me,” Leon drags your sweats over the swell of your ass, “Do you have a dick?”

“What, dad— No!” You tell him, more mortified at his question than you are by your bare ass under his palm. Fuck— You’re so wet it’s disgusting, dripping down your thighs and surely staining his lap. Thick like treacle.

“No? Were you gonna rape dad with this stupid cunt?” Oh, you hope he spanks your pussy. Porn makes it look delicious. “You look like you might have a dick with that face of yours.” He traces the seam of your cunt through your panties. “Or is your pussy just fat?”

Good fucking lord.

“Dad…” You arch into him, only to have a hand come down on your left ass cheek. One. Two. Three. They all hurt bad as each other. Four. “Ouch!” That one hurt real bad. Five. You feel like a naughty child. This is not as hot as you thought it would be. More dull and embarrassing. Not even the good kind of embarrassing.

Leon puts you on your knees, the hand wrapped around your jaw forces your lips into a pout, and you think he is going to kiss you— God, you close your eyes and wait for it, lean into him, shit you’d pop your leg if you were standing up. He spits in your face and it trickles down the bridge of your nose.

“Got me dirty with that filthy pussy.” Dad speaks offhandedly, he speaks to you like you’re dog shit. Not dog shit stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Just dog shit on the side of the road. Like the sort that bothers you enough to complain about it, but it doesn’t ignite any real anger.

His hand remains tight on your jaw, then he drops it to fish his fat cock from his pants to slap the drippy head on your cheek. The sound ricochets off the walls. Hits you like a bullet. Holy fuck. Dad really just did that. You giggle, batting your lashes up at him as pretty as an ugly girl can, and he grimaces so it can’t be pretty.

“Christ, you nasty fuck,” Leon snickers at the look on your face, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Daddy,” you whimper, nosing the tip of his dick, he smells so good you want him in your mouth, “I jus’ love you lots.”

“God, I hate ugly little freaks like you.” He said that already, no need to rub it in. Another slap of his cock on your face. Your heart beats for him and him alone. “You know what I think?” Dad guides his cock into your warm mouth. “Shit, that’s good— I think your mom is a liar.”

His dick is all you’ve ever wanted. It’s heavy on your tongue, though the longer you suckle on the tip, the weightier it gets, and he’s wet. Dripping all over the place. You must get that gene from your dad.

“‘Cause I don’t think,” he grunts, palm resting on your forehead to push you off his shaft, “I don’t think I could make a kid this ugly.”

“No,” you say breathlessly, “No, you’re my dad, my daddy.” Crouched down below him, you lave over his balls, putting more effort into this than you have done with anything else in your life. Gargling dad’s balls is your best work. Nothing else you have to be proud of.

Your pussy is pulsing, shit has its own heartbeat, you drop your hand down to soothe your poor cunt, rubbing figure eights into the bulge of your clit over your panties. It’s not enough, you push them to the side, your fingers slip a couple times, not enough, only dad’s fingers are enough, only his cock will plug up your leaking hole.

“Get off me,” dad instructs, and you might be glued to him, but you detach yourself immediately. “C’mon, stand up.” You use his thighs as leverage, standing on shaky legs that threaten to give out at any second. He takes your shirt off. “Cute tits gone to waste,” dad sighs like it’s heartbreaking. “We could've done something about it, y’know? Could fix your face right up, just had to ask daddy.”

“Really, dad? I want to be pretty, daddy, I want to be pretty for you, you never call me pretty— Daddy, I want to be pretty, please.” You clasp his shirt, and he brings you into his lap once more, raising your legs to slide your panties down so you’re free bleeding on his lap. Free bleeding without the blood. Just good old pussy.

“Messin’ with you, sweetheart, can’t fix that dog face,” dad coos to you tenderly, and the plain-as-day insult flies right over you. Dad could get you to sell both your kidneys if he keeps talking to you like that. “Just gotta live with it.”

You have. You have lived with it. That’s what you do. Live with your ugly face. You could die, that’s an option, but you choose to wait it out. ‘Cause dying is pretty scary no matter how much you want it. And Leon’s dick is hard beneath your pussy so there are things to live for. The world isn’t all cruel.

“Up,” he taps your lower back, you raise your hips and he presses his cock to your stretched hole. Toy after toy after toy. All to ready yourself for dad. When you sink down on him, your body convulses. It’s the sweet release of death. Or an orgasm. Fuck. Dying on dad’s cock is— You haven’t died on his dick, he fucks you through your high, feet planted firmly on the ground as he thrusts upwards, dick angled just right.

Heroin is meant to be good. You’ve seen Trainspotting. Better than any cock— You don’t believe that for a minute. Unless he’s leaking smack straight into your pussy, numbing your walls. Could be that ‘cause god— You’re not really thinking, not that you think much, when you decide to shove your fingers into his mouth.

“Daddy, can you taste me?” You ask him, giving a languid grind of your hips down onto his cock, you regret it immediately ‘cause it’s so good your cunt squelches loudly. “Do you taste me, dad? Dad—“

“Yeah,” Dad says, muffled, “Shoving your fingers down my fuckin’ throat, you little psycho, ‘course I taste it.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Daddy looks so pretty with his lips wrapped around your fingers, you fuck them in and out of his pink mouth, his tongue runs along the length of your fingers like he’s sucking a nice cock. Treating your fingers better than you did his dick.

Daddy’s splitting you in two. He fucks you without a care in the world. ‘Cause he doesn’t care about you. One-time-use pussy. You’re disposable like the gloves you get with box dye. Like a plastic spork. His cock is so deep he might as well tear open your middle and fuck your guts. Leon grabs your hips, forces you up and drops you down. The air in your lungs has no time to build up— You grasp at his shirt, bouncing in his lap like you’re a fleshlight, and you would be so happy with that title. Dad’s personal fleshlight. It makes you giddy.

Leon’s cock twitches inside of you, when he lifts you off of him, your pussy clings to the tip, holding on for dear life, insistent on milking daddy’s dick, taking every drop of his cum.

“Daddy…” Your head drops to his shoulder. “Please, daddy, am I pretty? Can you call me pretty?”

His hips stutter, and you don’t have to see his face to know he hesitates. It’s a struggle to call a girl like you pretty. “You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Then he dumps his load so deep— So deep, you warm to the thought of having your daddy’s baby. You already fucked so why not go the extra mile?

Dad doesn’t kiss you, but he lays you down and tucks you in like he never has before. “Your mom’s worried.” He goes back to the topic at hand and you groan, covering your face with a pillow. “Hey, we can, uh…” Leon scratches his head. “We can y’know…” He shrugs, glances down at you. “Can do that if you try pulling your weight a little.”

The promise of your dad’s cock is enough to have you applying for every job in a thirty-mile radius. Dad’s cock is a fix for an ugly girl like you. You’ve got a pussy only your daddy could love, and you think you’re more than okay with that.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you

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elix8r · 11 months

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Monkey Bars (sjy) Part 1

Part 2

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, crack, college au, frat au, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, fwb, angst

WARNINGS (for this part): jake and Y/N being mean to each other (jake’s actually a menace), profanity, underage drinking, Jake does Beomgyu SO DIRTY like justice for my mans, intimate photos/video being seen by unwanted eyes, harassment (mostly verbal but it’s pretty upsetting), invasion of privacy, slut shaming, panic attack, jake seriously being an ass, mentions of stds, mean dom!jake, sub!reader, unprotected sex, oral sex (m recieving), face fucking, fingering, filming during sex, mirror sex, dumbification, humiliation

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: 18.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This took so long and I def struggled writing it compared to pink whitney but i think it mostly has to do with how different they are! I’m not sure how long the next part will be but I definitely think it’ll be in the double digits cause I still have so many scenes planned out so hopefully it won’t take too long lol also i’m sure you guys will have stuff to say about jake by the end of this part cause he highkey sucks so i’m excited to see what you guys have to say lol but guys seriously thank you smmmm for all the love i hope this doesn’t disappoint and I would love to hear feedback!! thank you thank you everyone 🫶

THE FRAT DIARIES MASTERLIST

GLOSSARY

You couldn’t help but label anyone who told you to rush as absolute monsters, and in this case, it's your own mother and older sisters donning the monstrous roles. The three of them were all former sorority sisters, passing down the torch of tradition to you as the youngest. Initially, you were all in and ready to dive into the frenzy, but soon enough, the harsh reality hit you like a ton of bricks. Going through recruitment wasn't a walk in the park; it required nerves of steel. You found yourself having to socialize with over a hundred girls just during the past week, and man, it was driving you to the edge. Your sanity was slipping away, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this whole ordeal might be straight-up violating your very essence as a human being.

Lucky for you, today marked the last day of recruitment before bid day—the day you'd finally sprint towards your new home, liberating yourself from what seemed like a never-ending torment.

"Can you believe that there's a possibility that we might become sisters tomorrow?" Wonyoung, your lifelong best friend since diapers, now your roommate and potential sorority sister, couldn't contain her emotions at the thought. Despite your mixed feelings about the whole process, you were grateful to have your partner in crime by your side through it all. The possibility of ending up in the same house together overly excited you.

"I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we're on the same brainwave when we submit our rankings." Alpha Epsilon Sigma was the only house in your schedules that the two of you had in common. It would be the sole path that would unite you under the same letters.

"I mean, you're practically at the top of AES' wishlist with your legacy status and connections through your sisters. I'm just hoping they like me as much as I like them," Wonyoung's face twisted with a mix of anticipation and apprehension, aware of the intricate politics surrounding her position.

To a certain extent, she had a point. However, your family made sure to stress to you the importance of choosing based on your own desires, rather than succumbing to their influence. "Don't stress too much. And as cliché as it sounds, I promise we’ll end up where we’re meant to be." Your words seemed to offer a glimmer of reassurance, soothing her worries.

"Thanks, girl." She pulled you in for a tight hug before bouncing off her seat. "Well, my first party's about to start, and I don’t want to be late so I’m gonna head out right now. Good luck with your last two houses today, and I'll catch you back at the dorms!" With a wave, your roommate dashed off, leaving you with your thoughts.

The next day arrived, and as you opened your envelope, there was no surprise when you saw a bid from Alpha Epsilon Sigma staring back at you. Choosing had proven to be more difficult than expected, given your initial bias going into recruitment, but you were pleasantly surprised by the outcome. However, it was clear that your heart had already made its decision. And it seemed that Wonyoung knew it too, judging by the ecstatic shrieks emanating from beside you.

"I got AES! We’re sisters!" She practically tackled you with joy, and both of you jumped around in sheer excitement over your matching outcomes.

"See? I told you not to worry." It was a challenge to contain your excitement as you joined the other girls who had received bids from your sorority, eagerly making your way towards the house. The realization that this would be your home for the next four years was simply unbelievable.

Greek Row was bustling with energy, each house boasting its own unique theme. Yet, your eyes were drawn to one in particular. The house you had visited throughout the past week seemed transformed, barely recognizable amidst the sea of red and pink enveloping its pristine white exterior. Massive heart-shaped balloons floated in the air as a gigantic banner cleverly proclaimed, "All You Need AES Love," took center stage. You could also spot your sorority’s letters standing big and proud decorated with pink and red hearts all over. Members of the previous classes dotted the lawn, each holding custom-made heart signs to warmly welcome the new members. Among the crowd, it was easy to spot Winter, the girl who had rushed you all throughout the week. She bounced up and down, hoping to catch your attention, and you couldn't help but smile as you spotted your name signed beautifully on the sign that she was holding up.

"Y/N!" She squealed with delight, enveloping you in a tight hug. "I just knew you'd be an AES girl the moment you walked through our door on that first day!"

Bid day was living up to your expectation as you were having an absolute blast. Every person you had met so far welcomed you with open arms, and the festivities showed no signs of slowing down. The music pumped, and the atmosphere was electric. It was clear that choosing AES was the best decision you could have made.

It was no surprise that as soon as it turned dark outside, everyone started ushering the new members to a frat house. Epsilon Nu offered to host the girls of AES and you were beyond excited to meet the frat. While you were no stranger to frat parties, you were new to EpNu as the only houses you’ve previously been to were Beta Tau Sigma and Nu Chi Tau due to your sisters. But the stories you’ve heard about EpNu made your hopes high about the boys. Rumor was that they knew how to have a good time and they were apparently all smoking hot.

While their house couldn’t compare to the grand mansion your sorority claimed to be home, but you were surprised. It was honestly not as shabby as you thought it would be and while it could be the effects of both the alcohol in your system and the light show that was throwing you off, you had to say this was the nicest frat house you had been in. So far, you had nothing to complain about.

As Waka Flocka's "No Hands" reverberated through the pulsating house, your body instinctively moved to the infectious rhythm, the alcohol adding to the blissful sway. Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around your shoulders, and the intoxicating scent of cologne filled your senses. Your body melded snugly with theirs before they leaned in, whispering into your ear.

"What's your name?" His voice jolted you, instantly recognizable and sobering. Slowly, you turned your head to face him.

Jake fucking Sim.

Out of all the people in the world, of course, it was him. The realization seemed to mirror his own sentiment, evident from the annoyance etched across his face. Disgusted, you pushed him away, eager to distance yourself from his unwanted proximity.

"Oh, fuck no. Fuck off," you shot him a withering look, brushing at your shoulders as if trying to wipe away any remnants of his presence.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" His question only served to reinforce your belief in his sheer stupidity. You rolled your eyes, mustering up the patience to respond.

"Really, Jake? Why do you think you dumbass?" The realization hit you that Epsilon Nu was the frat Jake belonged to, instantly eroding any remaining respect you might have had for the house.

"No way you got a bid from AES," he exclaimed incredulously, disbelief radiating from his eyes. "Only hot and cool girls go AES, and obviously, you're neither."

"You've clearly become even dumber since high school 'cause it seems like you've forgotten that I'm a triple legacy," you emphasized, feeling your blood pressure rise with every passing second of the encounter.

"Whatever, get away from me," he retorted, his face still contorted with disdain, prompting a scoff to escape your lips.

"You're the one who came over to me, you asshole." With that, the two of you abruptly turned away from each other, stomping off in opposite directions, each eager to put distance between yourselves. The excitement and joy that had previously filled bid day were now replaced by a sour mood.

Leave it to Jake to ruin everything.

Jake Sim had always been a familiar presence in your life. Your parents had a long-standing friendship, even before you were born as both your mothers were AES sisters back in the day. As a child, it was no surprise that you developed a crush on him. Not only was he kind and fun to be around, but he also had an undeniable charm that made your cheeks flush with a rosy blush. So when Jake asked you to be his girlfriend with a candy ring on the first day of fourth grade, you eagerly accepted without hesitation.

The initial weeks of being Jake Sim's girlfriend were filled with happiness and excitement. Everyone was envious of you for landing one of the most popular guys in the grade above. Holding hands during recess and sharing your first kiss felt like pure bliss. But as they say, good things often come to an end. And for you, that end came crashing down when you witnessed a devastating sight that shattered your world.

There he was, on the swings, holding hands with an older girl from his grade. Your heart sank, and the weight of betrayal was almost unbearable. Overwhelmed with sadness and anger, you found yourself sobbing uncontrollably, seeking solace from your teacher, who ultimately had to call your mother to pick you up from school.

The following day, you arrived at school with tear-stained eyes and a fire burning within you. Jake Sim was going to face the consequences of his actions, and you were determined to make him pay. During recess, you spotted him on the monkey bars with that other girl, and something inside you snapped. Without thinking, you approached him from behind and pushed him off, the red haze of anger clouding your vision.

The sound of cries echoed through the air as Jake landed with a thud, clutching his arm in pain. It was an instant and unfortunate consequence of your impulsive act. However, instead of deterring him, the pain seemed to fuel his own retaliation. In a matter of seconds, he tackled you down, causing you to scrape your knees and get a bloody nose in the process. Parents were called, hospital visits were made, and the aftermath left a lasting scar on both of you.

Jake blamed you entirely for his inability to play soccer for two months, and your favorite dress was ruined, stained with blood and forever unwearable. Despite your parents' continued friendship and the physical proximity that remained between you and Jake, the damage inflicted upon your relationship was irreparable. Resentment grew, and any shared feeling between you two was one of animosity.So it would be no surprise that you spent the next couple of days before classes started holed in your dorm room not wanting to risk coming across him.

The previous year had been a period of bliss for you, as Jake had finally graduated, leaving you to enjoy your senior year without the worry of him ruining anything good in your life. When you received acceptance into HybeU, your dream school and your parents’ alma mater, you knew Jake was already a student there. However, the opportunity was too precious to pass up, and you were determined to not let him deter you from pursuing your dreams once again. Besides, the campus was vast, and the chances of running into him seemed unlikely. Little did you know, fate had other plans in store for you.

As you walked into your first class on the opening day of the semester, you couldn't help but notice a familiar figure entering the room. It didn't take long for him to spot you either, evident from the loud groans that escaped his lips. He was accompanied by an attractive guy, presumably one of his fraternity brothers. As your eyes met, a mutual eye roll ensued, and Jake wasted no time in turning to his friend, whispering animatedly while gesturing in your direction. It was all too typical of him.

However, due to the large size of your Relationship 101: College Edition class, with approximately two hundred students, you assumed that there would be no reason for the two of you to interact. If you both sat on opposite sides of the room, it would almost feel as if he wasn't even a part of the class. However, once again, it seemed that you were about to be proven severely wrong.

"As mentioned in the syllabus, this class will be graded based on attendance and the end-of-semester group project. If you attend class and adhere to the project rubric, it will be an easy A. However, even a slight deviation from those requirements will result in a poor grade. The groups for the project will now be assigned, and there will be no changes allowed," Professor Choi explained, exuding both kindness and firmness. Her instructions were clear, and you were determined to follow them to the letter.

You listened attentively as she began calling out the names of your classmates, letting people know who they would be working with for the next couple of months. The atmosphere in the room was filled with anticipation and curiosity.

"Y/N L/N and Jake Sim," Professor Choi announced. Your head snapped up, momentarily thinking you had misheard her. Groans erupted from the other side of the room once again, accompanied by laughter from Jake's friend. The whole class turned around, perplexed by the commotion that was previously missing when the names of all the other pairs were called out.

"Is there an issue here?" Professor Choi's confusion mirrored the reaction of the class as she addressed Jake.

"Uhm, kind of... I mean, I'd just prefer not working with her," Jake's blunt response triggered snickers from the class, leaving you feeling embarrassed as you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

Professor Choi's face turned stern, clearly unamused with his attitude. "Well, as I said, you will be stuck with the partner I have assigned you. It would be better for both of you to resolve whatever is going on quickly, as it would be most beneficial for your grades."

Her response silenced Jake, and both of you nodded in agreement. With that, she resumed calling out names, but the classmates continued to whisper, clearly entertained by what had just unfolded.

"So, what's up with you and him?" The girl next to you nudged you, curiosity gleaming in her big, bright eyes. Her pink hair added a vibrant touch to her friendly appearance.

You debated whether to reveal the history between you and Jake to a stranger, but she seemed harmless, so you decided to share. "Well, Jake and I have known each other our whole lives. We had a falling out when we were young, and it has lasted until now," you explained, adopting a nonchalant tone to downplay the significance of the situation.

She seemed genuinely interested, urging you to continue. "Wait, what happened?"

Letting out a sigh, you continued, "We dated in elementary school, but I caught him cheating on me so I broke his arm."

Her unexpected burst of laughter caught you off guard. "You're still beefing over something that happened before neither of you even knew how to do algebra?" You frowned slightly, annoyed that she didn't seem to take it as seriously as you had hoped.

"Well, it's not just that!" you quickly defended yourself. "After I broke his arm for cheating on me, he made it his mission to ruin my life. All through middle school and high school, I felt like I was living in a nightmare cause of him. We genuinely hate each other, which is why it's so frustrating that we now have to be partners. It's a serious issue, and if I could I would even drop the class because I don't trust him with my grade, and I can't handle being around him for a whole semester."

The pink-haired girl quickly realized the severity of the situation as she listened to your impassioned rant. "Oh, wow, this is actually a big deal. Damn, Professor Choi really set you up."

"Yeah, I'm fucked," you sighed, feeling the weight of stress settling in. Dropping the class wasn't much of an option, considering it was a requirement for your major.

"Well, if it helps, I want you to know that I'm fully on your side. Fuck that Jake guy. I mean, who even cheats? Just cause you’re a kid doesn’t excuse you’re actions!" she declared passionately, her sincerity shining through. Her words brought a smile to your face.

"Oh, wait, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Lily!" she exclaimed, extending her hand.

"Thanks, Lily. I'm Y/N, and it's nice to meet you," you responded, reciprocating the handshake. "Maybe you'll be the one who helps me maintain my sanity throughout this class," you added, half-joking and half-serious. Nonetheless, you genuinely appreciated the connection and friendship forming between you.

Throughout the rest of the class, you and Lily chatted, getting to know each other better. You discovered that she was also involved in Greek Life, a member of Nu Mu Chi, and a first-year student like yourself. The shared similarities made the conversation flow effortlessly, and you even exchanged numbers and Instagrams. Engrossed in your newfound friendship, you almost forgot about your problem. Keyword: almost.

Almost a week had passed since the first day of classes, and it was already Thursday. Fortunately, you hadn't run into Jake throughout that time. You knew that sooner or later, you would have to interact with him, but you had no issue with pushing it until the very last moment. However, you couldn't deny that the project seemed like it would take a great deal of time. Professor Choi had revealed on Wednesday that it would entail each group turning in a project that was over one of the topics she had picked out and listed on a Google Doc. She gave students a lot of freedom, allowing the project to be presented through various means like movies, websites, podcasts, or anything else the group wanted.

If you had been lucky enough to have a different partner, you would have been fully invested in this assignment, as you enjoyed showcasing your creativity through different outlets. Unfortunately, this class, due to circumstances and the partnership with Jake, was turning out to be your most challenging, even more so than physics. On the bright side, your other friends seemed to have a much better first week than you did, with nothing but good things to say about school so far.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Wonyoung asked, curling her hair at her desk, looking like a doll. In contrast, you were lounging on your lofted bed, wearing pajamas and glasses, engrossed in one of the Harry Potter movies while working on an assignment.

"Oh yeah, I'm good. I don't think I want to go to EpNu anytime soon," you replied, barely lifting your gaze from the movie.

She sighed. "You know, you shouldn't let Jake ruin everything for you. It was like this all throughout high school. Aren't you tired of it? Just come with me and the girls. We'll be with you the whole time, and you won't even remember that he was there." Her words were convincing, and EpNu's back-to-school party was known to be one of the best. However, your mind was set as you shook your head at her offer.

"I'm fine seriously. You girls go have fun. Text me if you need me to come get you anytime," you assured her, focusing your attention back on the assignment.

Wonyoung nodded, giving up on trying to convince you any further. "You look amazing. Take your shot with that cute pledge you were telling me about!" You teased her, causing her to blush before she headed out.

It was late into the night, and you were watching the last Harry Potter movie of the franchise when you received a call from Wonyoung. It seemed like she had decided to take up on your offer.

However, when you answered the call, the voice on the other end wasn't the one you were expecting.

"Hey, is this Y/N?" The male voice was barely audible over the deafening music in the background. You immediately became alert upon hearing the unfamiliar voice.

"Yes, it is. Is Wonyoung okay?" You quickly asked, getting up to put on your sweatshirt and shoes, ready to go and help your friend.

"I'm Jungwon, and I'm with Wonyoung right now. She's had a lot to drink, and I think she needs to go home. She keeps murmuring your name, so I thought you would be my best bet." By now, you were already outside your dorm, hurrying to your car, worried about your best friend.

"Okay, I'm heading there right now. Jungwon, can you keep her company until I get there?" Wonyoung had always been bad with her alcohol, and you had hoped she would pace herself, but it seemed like she hadn't.

"Yeah, of course. I'll see if I can get her a glass of water to help her sober up," you could hear the concern in his voice through the music, and you were relieved that she wasn't alone.

You reached the house in record time, and from the outside, the party looked like absolute chaos, with a massive crowd inside. At the door, a tall boy stood manning the door, almost like a guard dog for the frat. You barely spared him a glance though, as you were focused on your mission, not knowing where to start inside the massive house. Your attempts to call Wonyoung went unanswered, indicating that her phone was likely dead.

As you weaved through the sweaty bodies, you finally spotted a familiar face. Winter was lounging on one of the couches with a group of sisters and unfamiliar faces.

"Winter!" You rushed over to her.

"Oh my god, you're here!" Winter, clearly having had a few drinks, was even more energetic than usual. She pulled you into a hug before turning to introduce you to everyone.

"Everyone, meet Y/N! She was my rush crush! I love her so much; she's like a little me!" Winter still hadn't let you go, and everyone greeted you. While you appreciated her enthusiasm in making you feel welcome, you were more focused on finding your friend than meeting new people.

"Hey, nice to meet you all," you greeted them briefly, lacking the energy they were exuding. "Has anyone seen Wonyoung? She's my best friend, and I'm here to pick her up. She's tall, pretty, and has long hair," you gestured with your hand, indicating her approximate height. "I think she was with Jungwon?" You hoped that providing this additional information might jog their memories, but they shook their heads.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I haven't seen her since she came up to the main level with Jungwon. Oh! Maybe Jake will know! Jake, come over here!" Winter called out, spotting a familiar figure. You wanted to object, but you decided to prioritize finding your friend over your issues with Jake.

As Winter enthusiastically waved at him, Jake noticed your presence and briefly squinted his eyes annoyed you were here before turning back to Winter. "What's up?"

"Y/N here is looking for her bestie Wonyoung, who was last seen with Jungwon. I was wondering if you knew where they might be?" Winter explained.

You could tell he was retracing his memory as it took him a second before responding. "Oh, actually, I might know where they are." He didn't wait for you to follow, immediately turning and walking in a direction. You quickened your pace to keep up with his longer strides.

He headed towards what you remembered as the kitchen, and you were correct, seeing a group of people surrounding a box of pizza and various alcohol stashes. However, Jake continued walking past them, toward a door located at the back. Without hesitation, you followed him, entering what seemed like a secondary kitchen. The room contained drink machines, pantry shelves and an industrial sized refrigerator that made you wonder what it held, but the room itself was dark and empty. Both you and Jake appeared surprised by this unexpected outcome. They weren't here.

"I thought they'd be here," Jake softly murmured, turning to you. Upon closer observation, you noticed that he, too, seemed slightly intoxicated and possibly high, with bloodshot eyes.

Letting out a frustrated huff, you expressed your displeasure at the wasted time. "Well, clearly they aren't. Can you think of anywhere else they might be?"

He took a moment to ponder, and with your patience wearing thin, you were about to walk out when you noticed a flicker in his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed your wrist and swiftly led you back to the main room. Confusion washed over you, as physical interactions with Jake were rare. Nevertheless, you followed his lead as he pulled you up the stairs, realizing that he was likely taking you to Jungwon's room. It dawned on you that checking there should have been your first instinct.

The room you arrived at was down a corridor, and without bothering to knock, Jake barged in.

His intuition had been correct, as you spotted two figures inside. One was hunched over a trashcan, vomiting, while the other held their hair back.

"Oh, fuck, Wonyoung!" You quickly rushed to your friend's side, ready to help her in her vulnerable state.

"Oh, thank god you're here," Jungwon let out a sigh of relief. It dawned on you that this was the first time you were meeting the boy your friend had been eyeing since they met at the party on bid day.

"Yeah, sorry it took so long. We couldn't find you guys, but thanks for being here with her," you quickly thanked him.

Wonyoung seemed to have stopped throwing up and quieted down. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned to you, slurring your name. "Y/N?"

"Yeah, Won, I'm here. Let's get you home," you said, attempting to help her up. However, her lanky body proved difficult to move.

You had momentarily forgotten about Jake, but you were quickly reminded of his presence as he reached out to assist you and Jungwon in lifting your friend.

"Here, let us handle her. You should probably make sure she has everything," he suggested. Following his advice, you spotted her phone on the side of what appeared to be Jungwon's desk. Your assumption was correct; it was out of battery.

The boys carefully guided Wonyoung down the stairs, and you could hear her softly murmuring nonsensically. You were certain your friend would be embarrassed by this situation when she woke up the next morning, but that was a problem for later.

As the four of you reached your car, you opened the back seat while Jungwon took charge of ensuring Wonyoung got in safely and buckled up.

You turned to Jake and, though reluctant, couldn't help but admit that you would have never found her without his help. "Thanks, Jake."

Jake seemed unaccustomed to hearing your gratitude and brushed it off quickly. "It's fine. Anyone would have done the same," he responded, his tone almost shy. Before you could make any further comments, the car door slammed shut.

"Hey, can you have her text me in the morning so I know she's okay?" Jungwon's concern was still evident, and you mentally noted your approval of the boy your friend seemed interested in. He seemed to be one of the good ones.

"Yes, of course. Seriously, Jungwon, thanks so much for taking care of her. It was nice to meet you," you said before getting into the car.

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Drive safe and good night!" Jungwon bid farewell as you drove off. Through the rearview window, you thought you spotted Jake giving you a small wave, but you decided to brush it off as your eyes deceiving you.

Your assumptions proved correct as the next morning, while you were in the midst of getting ready for class, your roommate woke up. To your surprise, she remembered much more than you had anticipated, and she was clearly horrified by her actions.

"What if he never talks to me ever again?" Wonyoung groaned, her head buried underneath her pillow. However, you highly doubted that outcome, considering how genuinely worried and caring Jungwon had been last night. It was clear that he was just as smitten with her as she was with him.

"Stop being stupid. Just text him, and it'll be fine," you assured her, relaying Jungwon's request from the previous night. With a spritz of perfume, you finally felt ready to head to class. You assumed your friend, who was still sulking in bed, planned on skipping. However, you had no choice but to attend, as your Relationship 101 class had mandatory attendance.

You liked to arrive early to class, so it was a surprise to see a figure sitting in the seat you usually occupied when you walked in. Jake, who was notorious for being late or arriving just on time, being here so early was highly unusual. He wore a cozy-looking hoodie and appeared tired, likely due to the party. Feeling skeptical, you cautiously approached your usual desk, mindful of Jake's presence.

As if sensing your arrival, Jake turned his head towards you the moment you reached your desk. He seemed to be nursing a mild hangover, squinting slightly at the change in lighting.

"Good morning, Y/N," he greeted you. It took you a moment to process his words, considering it had been a while since he had greeted you, let alone said anything that wasn't an insult.

Not letting your guard down, you replied with a curt greeting before settling into the seat beside him. Just as you were about to ask him why he was in your seat, he beat you to it.

"I know you're probably wondering why I'm in your seat, but I thought about it yesterday after you left and figured it would actually help us get a good grade in this class if we worked together, like Professor Choi mentioned. Since it's a required course for my major and it doesn't seem like we can convince her to assign us, different partners, we'll have to suck it up," he explains, his voice lacking its usual cockiness and sounding surprisingly sincere. This newfound maturity in Jake catches you off guard.

"Same here. It's required for my major too," you respond, realizing that he might be in the same department as you. What would be the chances? "And yeah, I expected us to have this conversation eventually, but I didn't think it would be today, especially since it's only the end of the first week of classes. Honestly, I didn’t even think you’d care about this that much."

"Well, contrary to what you might believe, I actually take my grades seriously, and I'd rather start now and aim for a good grade than procrastinate and fail," he retorts, sounding annoyed by your comment. "Besides, the more work we finish quickly, the less time we'll have to spend with each other."

His words made sense, and you couldn’t really argue against them. "Yeah... I guess you're right. I can't afford to fail this class either. But if we keep getting on each other's nerves and fighting like we usually do, I don't see how we'll get anything done."

"Are you really so prideful that you can't put your ego aside for an hour to work with me? It's literally about your grade," Jake's tone was starting to irritate you as he made it seem like you were the sole instigator in your rocky relationship.

"Fuck you, Jake. Clearly, I'm not the only one with ego issues since you've willingly participated in our fights as well," you retorted, rolling your eyes. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, neither willing to speak, fearing that it would escalate the situation further.

Finally, you sighed and gave in, realizing that Jake had no intention of breaking the silence. "How about this? We dedicate a few hours each week to working on this project and during that time, we promise to genuinely try to work together—for the sake of our grade. Outside of those hours, we can go back to how we usually are and not interact at all."

For the first time in a long while, Jake seemed to have no comeback for your suggestion. It even actually appeared to look as if he was considering it as he slowly nodded his head. "Okay, fine. I guess I can do that."

“Glad we could come to an agreement, now can you go back to your seat? Our agreement doesn’t extend over to us being seatmates.”

The two of you had agreed to meet at the library the following Wednesday, and as you expected, Jake was running late. It was already thirty minutes past 7, and you were seething with anger. As you started packing up your belongings, preparing to leave, you heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

"Hey," Jake said nonchalantly as he sat down in front of you. His casual attitude made your eye twitch. Didn't he realize that you had been waiting for him for half an hour?

"Hey? That's all you've got to say? You're 30 minutes late!" Frustration surged within you, pushing you closer to your boiling point.

He simply shrugged. "Sorry, I guess." His lackadaisical response caused you to stand up from your seat in anger.

"You do realize that I have other things to do, right? You literally just wasted my time! You're so fucking selfish. You could've at least texted me. Whatever, I can't do this with you," you fumed, turning around to leave the desk.

But before you could make your escape, you felt a hand grabbing your wrist, preventing you from leaving.

"Wait, Y/N, stop. Practice ran late, and I came straight here without checking my phone. Seriously, I'm sorry," he explained, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

Sighing, you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm down your anger before responding. You were only letting it slide as he seemed genuine. "Fine, just please don't let it happen again, or at least send me a text. I'll let it slide this once because I don't want to start our sessions on a bad note."

Jake nodded, and you put down your bag, taking a seat again.

"So, have you thought about what you want to do? I checked the topic list, and there are a couple that I think we could consider. The hookup culture topic seems the most fun and interesting though, especially because there's a section on Greek Life. Since we're both involved, I was thinking that we could maybe provide a more nuanced perspective," Jake suggested. It didn't surprise you that he was interested in that particular topic, given his reputation as a serial playboy. He probably had a PhD in hookup culture with the number of girls he had been involved with. However, the subset of Greek Life did intrigue you too, as it would allow you to draw from personal experience.

"I haven't gone through the list yet, but that does sound interesting," you quickly pulled up the document and realized that this topic would probably the most entertaining to research.

"Yeah, I'm fine with us choosing that. Maybe we can do a podcast, as it would be an easy way to voice our opinions and share examples from our personal lives." Jake nodded, liking your suggestion. He was quite a talker so he had no problems with having to record a couple of episodes.

"Sounds good to me. We can start researching now and create a solid outline to determine how many episodes we'll need to cover everything thoroughly. The campus radio station has equipment that students can borrow, so we don't have to worry about that," Jake suggested.

Both of you immediately began your research by accessing the library database and looking up relevant articles and books on the chosen topic.

"What's your major? You mentioned earlier that this class is a requirement for you, and it is for me too. I was curious," you decide to finally ask the question that had been on your mind since last Friday.

"I'm majoring in Human Development and Family Sciences and I’m in pre-nursing. Ultimately, I want to become a nurse, specializing in pediatrics. So I thought this major would be a good fit," Jake replied. His choice of major was unexpected, considering you had assumed he would be more of a business bro like the majority of fraternity members tended to be.

"Damn, that's not at all what I was expecting. I'm actually in the same major, although I'm more inclined towards becoming a family therapist," you shared. It was a surprise to both of you that you were pursuing the same field of study. Perhaps you and Jake had more in common than either of you had initially thought.

"What classes are you taking right now?" Jake continued the conversation, clearly invested.

"Other than this one, I'm taking Human Geography, English Literature, and Intro to Physics," you replied, noticing Jake's interest piquing at the mention of the last class.

"You're taking physics? How are you liking it? I took that last year and I'm currently in the seminar class for it. It's definitely one of my favorite classes," Jake shared, surprising you with his nonchalant tone and genuine enthusiasm.

"You like physics? Why?" you asked, genuinely curious and somewhat taken aback. His passion for the subject seemed almost foreign to you.

"I don’t know, It's just something I enjoy. I mean I've always found it fascinating. I liked it even in high school," Jake explained, his enthusiasm evident. It became clear that he had a genuine love for physics, and you couldn't help but feel a tinge of envy, considering your struggles with the subject.

"Wanna do my homework for me then? I think I'm going to fail," you joked, expecting a dismissive response. To your surprise though, Jake seemed to be genuinely considering your offer.

"I mean, yeah, I could probably help you. Who's your professor? I had Professor Song last year," Jake offered, surprising you once again. You had been seeking help from anyone willing, but finding someone competent enough to assist you and go over the subject was proving to be a challenge, as it seemed physics was universally disliked.

"I have Professor Song too, but you're joking, right?" You were desperate enough to consider getting help from Jake, but it seemed almost too good to be true.

"No, I'm serious, I promise. I think I ended that class with an A last year," Jake assured you, displaying a side of himself that contradicted any preconceived notions you had about him.

"Okay, yeah, that would actually be so much help. Thanks," you expressed your gratitude, and with a nod from Jake, the two of you resumed working on the project.

What was happening? Within just an hour, you not only had a civil conversation with Jake, but he had even offered to help you with your schoolwork. However, this didn't mean that the two of you would suddenly become best friends. After all, a decade-long feud couldn't be resolved with a single conversation.

Every week since that Wednesday, you and Jake had agreed to meet up once a week to work on the project and for him to provide you with tutoring. You had to admit that this schedule was working quite well, although it still presented challenges. You and Jake would bicker more often than not, and his talent for getting on your nerves hadn't disappeared. However, your relationship with him was nowhere near as tumultuous as it had been for most of your life. In fact, you had even decided to attend the mixer that your sorority was organizing with EpNu tonight.

"And he even brought me coffee to my first class today! He's perfect," Wonyoung gushed, practically melting as she recounted what Jungwon had done for her. Ever since the party at EpNu, Wonyoung's relationship with Jungwon had been progressing, as she had even met his parents a couple of days ago and it seemed like they were on the verge of making it official. It warmed your heart to see her so happy.

"That's adorable! I can't believe you found such a great guy, especially considering he's a frat boy," Yujin, your sorority sister and next-door neighbor, commented while searching for her misplaced vape that she always seemed to be losing.

"It's behind the futon, Yujin," you helped her out before turning back to Wonyoung. "Yeah, seriously, Won, I'm glad he's treating you well. And if he ever does anything wrong, he probably knows that I'll give him a good beating or something, but it's still sweet."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see him tonight. Honestly, I'm just happy that you've overcome your fear of EpNu and decided to join us. I mean, we've been to mixers with other houses before, but trust me, they don't compare to EpNu. There's just something different about them," Wonyoung expressed her excitement.

An '80s Aspen-themed mixer between AES and EpNu was happening tonight, and even though you had sworn to never attend any event involving Jake's fraternity, your improved relationship with him during the past month working on the project made you reconsider. Outside of your study sessions, you still had to restrain yourself from getting into fights with him, but your tolerance for him seemed to have made an improvement, even if it was minuscule. Besides, the theme sounded too fun to pass up.

"Wonyoung, you're just biased because of your lover boy. But I do have to admit, they really do go all out. No wonder they're top tier here. And let's not forget about all the hot boys. I mean, Y/N, remember when you almost fainted a couple of weeks ago when you saw Heeseung at Starbucks? I swear she was drooling like a dog in heat," Yujin chimed in, playfully teasing you. You rolled your eyes at her remark, but she had a point so you let it slide as you accepted the shooter she handed your way. There was no denying that you really did have a hard time breathing for awhile after seeing EpNu’s president while getting your coffee.

One of the boys from the frat offered to pick you guys up from the dorms, so you and the girls headed downstairs in your neon ski outfits, making a quick stop to pick up another one of your sisters, Yuna, who lived on the floor below.

Beomgyu, as expected from EpNu, was incredibly attractive, and he drove a Tesla. So you had no problem accepting the passenger seat.

"Hey, I don't think we've met yet. I'm Beomgyu," the boy turned to you with a smile.

He was so cute that you almost forgot to respond, but you managed to introduce yourself. "Hey Beomgyu, nice to meet you, and thanks for picking us up. I'm Y/N." He shook your hand and flashed another smile before heading towards the house.

Your phone buzzed, and when you checked it, Wonyoung had sent you a text. "Seems like you have a good chance of getting lucky tonight ;) He's cute, and you're into older guys, so it sounds like a perfect match."

You rolled your eyes in amusement. You definitely weren’t opposed to what she was suggesting.

The house was noticeably different from your last visit, as it seemed less chaotic. The interior was adorned with fake snow and blue decorations, and everyone was dressed according to the theme. You couldn't help but be impressed by the level of dedication EpNu had shown, surpassing any other fraternity on campus.

Wonyoung quickly separated from the group bidding everyone a goodbye, before running off eager to find Jungwon. As she ran away, Beomgyu turned to you before offering you a drink. You, of course, accepted.

"You've probably been to the kitchen before, but let me share a secret with you," Beomgyu said, guiding you past the kitchen towards a familiar door at the back. "You probably haven’t been here before, but this is where we usually stash the good stuff that we don't want to share with everyone else."

You remembered the back room where you and Jake had searched for Wonyoung and Jungwon, and like last time, it was empty. "Actually, Jake showed me this room last time I was here, but he never mentioned this was where you boys stored all the good stuff."

"Wait, why were you guys back here then if not for the drinks?" Beomgyu furrowed his eyebrows.

"We were looking for Wonyoung and Jungwon," you explained.

"Oh, okay," he replied, not entirely convinced but choosing to brush it off. Beomgyu opened the industrial-sized fridge, revealing it to be fully stocked with drinks.

Your eyes lit up with excitement, prompting Beomgyu to laugh. "Go ahead, take your pick." You didn't need any further encouragement as you reached for a peach High Noon, thrilled to see your favorite (and very overpriced) drink available.

"Thanks, this is awesome! High Noons are my favorite, but I rarely go out and buy them cause I just can't justify spending $10 on a four-pack," you remarked. Beomgyu laughed at your reasoning while also grabbing the same drink before leading you back out.

It seemed like your entire sorority had decided to attend the mixer, as you noticed sisters constantly arriving through the front door. While mingling with others in the main room, you met numerous new people.

The tall boy you had seen at the door on your previous visit turned out to be a pledge named Niki, who greeted you warmly with a hug. You could tell he was already plastered. You were also introduced to Sunghoon, a brother you had actually known of as his striking looks had garnered much talk amongst your sisters. However, you decided to keep your distance from him after simple introductions due to the rumors of his alleged knack for getting people pregnant (Winter’s friend?). Getting pregnant in college was definitely not on your bucket list so it was better to be safe than sorry. And, of course, you were officially introduced to the EpNu president, who once again left you feeling a bit lightheaded with how hot he was. Fortunately, the alcohol in your system had loosened your nerves enough for you to at least exchange names.

Throughout the night, you and Beomgyu got significantly closer since he seemed to stick by your side, occasionally whispering things that made you laugh while wrapping his arms around your waist. Perhaps Wonyoung was right — it seemed like you had a decent chance with the older boy.

While you were enjoying yourself, from the other side of the room Jake was in a sour mood as he was sporting a frown. He had a rough time at practice and Jay had been talking his ear off all night. Jake loved his brother but wished more than anything that he would go bother Ningning instead. He wasn't in the mood to entertain Jay's chatter. As his eyes scanned the room, Jake's attention was quickly drawn to you and Beomgyu, who appeared to be getting quite close. He didn't even know that you knew each other, but for some reason, the sight bothered him deepening his frown. When he saw Beomgyu's lips meet yours, he found himself speed-walking in your direction before he could even stop himself.

"Hey, Y/N, can I talk to you about something?" Jake's familiar voice interrupted, causing you and Beomgyu to separate. You shot Jake a glare, annoyed that he was once again ruining something for you. However, his face was sporting an unfamiliar serious expression that caught your attention.

"Uh, yeah, okay. I'll come find you after, Beomgyu," you said, turning to the boy you had just been kissing before following Jake. He led you towards the hidden room at the back of the kitchen.

As expected, the room was empty, and Jake faced you with a serious look in his eyes. "You know Beomgyu has chlamydia, right?"

Those words made your jaw drop, and your eyes widened as any previous effects from the alcohol vanished. "What?" you practically screamed, struggling to comprehend what he had just said.

"Uh, yeah, I probably have no place telling you that, but I thought you should know though, especially since it seemed to be getting pretty heated between you two," Jake said, avoiding eye contact as guilt washed over him. Beomgyu didn't actually have chlamydia and he was silently praying that his friend would never find out about what he told you. He knew he was an asshole for lying about something like this but he was convinced that his reasons justified his actions.

Jake and Beomgyu were like two peas in a pod, and Jake knew him better than anyone. They were essentially the same person, boasting the highest body count among their brothers. Jake was well aware of how Beomgyu treated girls, and despite his lingering resentment towards you, he felt it would be cruel to let you become just another conquest for Beomgyu.

You were still in shock for a few seconds, as all thoughts of Beomgyu instantly vanished from your mind. Would he have continued with you and never mentioned his condition if Jake hadn't interrupted? The disdain you had for Jake earlier was now replaced with a deep sense of gratitude towards your childhood enemy.

It took you a moment to find your voice. "Jake..." Your words trailed off, as you were still shaken by the realization of what could have happened that night. In that moment, you knew there was only one appropriate response.

A hug from you was the last thing Jake expected, and he stood frozen, unsure of how to react. The last time you had hugged him was back in fourth grade when you were dating, and his body seemed to have forgotten how to respond to physical touch from you. It felt like an eternity before you finally pulled away.

“Thanks, Jake seriously, I know we’ve never had a good relationship but this semester is slowly showing me that maybe I’ve judged you too harshly,” and hearing these words from you left Jake blushing the rest of the night.

However, this wouldn’t last as Monday rolled around and the second he stepped into class, he was met with the sight of your furious self storming towards him, with Beomgyu by your side. Oh God, he was fucked.

You spent the rest of Friday night sticking close to your friends, hoping to avoid Beomgyu for the remainder of the evening. When Saturday came around, you found yourself recounting the events of the previous night to Winter (who you were now pretty sure was going to be your big), when she took you out on a lunch date. As you shared the story, Winter's eyes widened with surprise.

"Wait, hold on. What?" Winter's eyes bulged as she struggled to comprehend what you were telling her. Beomgyu was a good friend of hers and they ran in similar circles, so she was utterly perplexed by what she was hearing.

"Yeah, I know, isn’t it so fucked up? I mean, he must have known that we were likely going to hook up, or at least that I was down. The fact that he didn't mention anything and continued to initiate things is insane to me. I may have hated Jake for most of my life, but at least he's not the kind of jerk who would let me sleep with someone who has an STD." You were still heated about the situation and continued to rant, unaware that Winter's surprise stemmed from something else.

"Y/N, hold on. I don't think Beomgyu has chlamydia." Your words came to a halt in the middle of your sentence. What?

"He's a really close friend of mine, and if any of us knew he had something as significant as an STD, it would have spread among our group. Sure, he's a whore, but he's also careful and would never engage in a sex without disclosing that information, he’s not that much of an asshole. I'm really confused now." The confusion on your face mirrored Winter's words.

"Was Jake just mistaken, then? Or maybe Beomgyu only told Jake because it's not something you'd be eager to share with everyone," you pondered, but Winter shook her head, dismissing both possibilities.

"Let me call Beomgyu right now to confirm because I truly don't think this is true." You agreed, realizing that the only way to clarify the situation was to speak directly with Beomgyu.

As soon as Winter posed the question to Beomgyu, you could almost sense the offense in his voice as he vehemently denied it.

"Wait, wait, wait. Jake told you this? Is that why he pulled you aside last night, and then you avoided me like the plague?" The three of you were now embarked on a mission to uncover what might have prompted Jake to share this information, considering Beomgyu was one of his close friends.

"Maybe he just didn't want you two to be together because he hates Y/N and doesn't want his friend involved with her?" By now, the phone call transitioned to a Facetime video, and you could see Beomgyu shaking his head in frustration.

"Then why the fuck would he make up something about me and not about her? I mean, I didn't even know who she was until last night, hell, I didn’t even know they knew each other until Y/N told me that Jake had already shown her the private kitchen!" Beomgyu was practically seething at this point, but Winter turned her attention to you.

"Jake showed you the backroom kitchen?" Winter's question (that she practically screamed out) caught you off guard, as you struggled to see its relevance to the situation. "That's where the EpNu boys take girls to hook up!" Ah, now it all made sense.

"Wait, what?" Confusion overwhelmed you. "I swear, I didn't do anything with him! I would never! Wait, then why did you take me back there?" Beomgyu's face flushed red as your question was now directed towards him.

"Well, uh, I mean, I didn't actually take you there to, like, do anything with you. It was just to give you a drink and maybe plant a seed in your head so that we'd go back for more drinks and, you know, maybe something would happen then?" Winter rolled her eyes at her friend's explanation. It was all too typical of Beomgyu's behavior, but that was the least of everyone’s problems right now.

"Okay, whatever, that's beside the point. Why did Jake take you there then?" Winter redirected the conversation, refocusing everyone's attention on the problem at hand.

"To find Wonyoung and Jungwon! Oh my god, is that why you looked like you didn’t believe me when I told you that yesterday?" Beomgyu nodded while Winter let out a sigh.

"Y/N, do you think there's any possibility that Jake likes you? Maybe he got jealous seeing you with Beomgyu and told you this lie in the hopes that you would stay away?" Beomgyu gasped dramatically as if Winter had just uncovered the truth.

Your reaction, however, was quite different, as you shrieked in disbelief. "No way!" The idea that Jake had orchestrated this entire situation out of jealousy seemed far-fetched to you. There was absolutely no way.

Little did you know though, Winter had actually cracked the code. Jake's actions were indeed driven by jealousy, even though he himself was unaware of the true motives behind his behavior.

And now, here he was, facing the consequences of his actions. You and Beomgyu had (quite literally) dragged him into an empty classroom next door, and he felt like a child being caught in trouble by his parents.

"Explain," Beomgyu's stern voice was all Jake needed to hear to understand the gravity of the situation.

"I'm sorry!" Jake's inability to handle pressure became evident once again, as a single glare from you made him crumble. "I just saw you two together and thought it would be a terrible match. I mean, seriously, bro, out of all people, her?" He realized he was only digging himself deeper by insulting you.

"I mean, come on! She's like the absolute worst! The actual devil incarnate, and I can't have my best mate being involved with her!" Jake's attempts at persuasion fell flat, as neither you nor Beomgyu were buying any of his bullshit.

"Then why did you make up a lie about me instead of her?" Beomgyu's frustration reached its peak, leaving Jake spluttering, unable to come up with a satisfactory answer.

It became clear that both you and Beomgyu were done with Jake. Beomgyu finally put an end to his blubbering. "Dude, just stop. If you were interested in her, you should have just told me. I would have respected the bro code and backed off. But what you did was beyond fucked up, man. I don't even know if I want to see you around anymore, at least not for a while. Just stay away and try not to fuck things up even more. This could have gone so bad for me." With that, Beomgyu stormed off, not sparing Jake a single glance.

Meanwhile, you remained behind, still looking at Jake, but with a different expression in your eyes. It was disappointment that he saw, and it made Jake feel sick to his core. "I've always known you were a shit person ever since you cheated on me as a kid, but this time you've crossed the line. Don't bother trying to talk to me ever again." With those words, you followed after Beomgyu, leaving Jake to sit alone, grappling with the repercussions of his actions.

You weren't joking about not wanting to see him, as Jake waited for hours at your usual spot in the library, hoping against hope that you would show up. But there was no sign of you. The drive back to his fraternity house was filled with silence, as regret coursed through him. Jake couldn't wrap his head around his own actions. The flimsy excuse he had concocted while lying to you now seemed utterly nonsensical, and shame engulfed him.

The dynamics within EpNu were strained as well. Everyone was well aware of the situation and how Jake had betrayed one of his closest friends and brothers. He could sense the judgment radiating from the pledges, which only amplified his feelings of patheticness.

"It's going to take some time, but I know Beomgyu's not cruel enough to ice you out forever. Personally, I would have probably beaten the shit out of you, but I guess Beomgyu's a much better person than I am," Jay nonchalantly remarked while engrossed in playing Animal Crossing on his Switch.

Sunghoon kicked the chair that Jay was occupying, rolling his eyes at his friend's lack of sincerity. "You're not helping him. Look, you're only making him more depressed," Sunghoon nudged the back of Jay's chair once again, gesturing toward Jake's huddled figure underneath his comforter. "Jake, dude, you just have to rip the bandaid off and apologize. Sincerely."

Sunghoon's words struck a chord with Jake. He hadn't properly apologized yet, as neither you nor Beomgyu had given him the opportunity to do so. But he had to keep trying.

The lack of response from Jake's bundled-up figure made Sunghoon sigh. He had been moping like this for hours, and Sunghoon was growing tired of it. Jay, though seemingly less concerned, also still cared about his best friend.

Out of nowhere, Jake felt his emotional support comforter being yanked away from his body, and then he was forcefully dragged off his bed. While his bed wasn't that high, the impact of hitting the floor still hurt quite a bit.

"What the fuck!" he yelled at the instigator. However, Sunghoon remained unfazed and continued in his attempts to lift Jake, who showed no intention of getting up from the floor.

"Jesus, why are you so heavy? You're not even that tall," Sunghoon remarked, making Jake whip his head around in annoyance at the taller boy’s jab.

"Get off of me, dude. Let me be. I deserve to be on the floor like the trash I am. Pure basura," Jake moped, continuing to resist Sunghoon's efforts, which showed no signs of relenting.

Suddenly, another pair of arms joined in, as Jay decided to step in and help Sunghoon. The sound of bodies hitting the floor and yells filled the hallway as the three of them engaged in a wrestling match. Unfortunately for Jake, he was fighting a losing battle against two taller and gym-obsessed individuals. After a brief struggle, they easily dragged him towards a specific door.

"Leave me alone! Go bother your girlfriends or something! Seriously, stop!" Jake's pleas fell on deaf ears as Jay held him down and covered his mouth, while Sunghoon knocked on the door with urgency.

They had intentionally dragged him all the way to the other side of the house, where Beomgyu and Taehyun's room was located.

The moment the door swung open and Beomgyu and Taehyun saw the scene before them, it was immediately slammed shut. Undeterred, Sunghoon continued knocking, persistently and loudly.

"Go away!" someone shouted from the other side of the door, but Sunghoon refused to give up, intensifying his knocking.

"We're going to stay here until one of you opens the door!" Jay yelled back, still holding Jake down, who was desperately trying to squirm free.

Once again, the door was yanked open, but this time it wasn't instantly shut. "What do you want?" Taehyun's intimidating glare sent shivers down Jake's spine. In contrast to his cute appearance, Taehyun was definitely someone Jake didn’t want to mess with.

“He’s got something to say to your friend,” and with this, Sunghoon barged into their room pushing Taehyun aside which allowed for Jay to push Jake inside as he also followed suit and shut the door behind him.

Whilst the room itself wasn’t that small when it housed two people, with five grown boys in it though, it was becoming uncomfortable, especially with the stare Taehyun was continuing to give him. Beomgyu seemed to be looking anywhere but at him, obviously still pissed, and Sunghoon elbowed Jake in an attempt to get him to start talking.

“Ahem well, uh uhm so uh well,” Jake’s stuttering instantly got Jay groaning in what seemed to be a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment at his friend’s lack of poise.

“Jesus Christ, just get out,” this was the first time they had heard Beomgyu’s voice and he was clearly annoyed that Jake had gone against his wishes of wanting to be left alone.

This however seemed to get Jake to finally compose his thoughts and actually speak. “Wait, wait, wait. Just hear me out.”

Silence filled the room for a couple of seconds before Beomgyu finally let out a sigh signaling for Jake to continue.

"Okay, to start off, Beomgyu, I want to apologize sincerely. I understand that this might not mean much to you at the moment, and I don't expect you to forgive me right away, if ever. But I believe this is the least you deserve. I truly am sorry. You're one of my close friends, and I have no excuse for my actions. I keep replaying that night in my mind, searching for a reasonable explanation, but I can't find one. You were right, Beomgyu. If this had become public knowledge, it could have had serious consequences for you, and I deeply regret putting you in that situation." Jake maintained eye contact with Beomgyu, his voice reflecting his sincerity.

"I want you to understand that I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space and time you need. You should know that you mean a lot to me, and I appreciate you hearing me out today." The room fell silent as everyone's gaze turned to Beomgyu, waiting for his response.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly for Jake until Beomgyu finally spoke. "You're right. I can't forgive you right away because what you did was seriously fucked up. However, I appreciate your apology. It shows that you regret your actions and that our friendship still matters to you."

Though he hadn't completely reconciled with his friend, Jake felt a sense of victory. Prior to today, he hadn't even been able to approach Beomgyu, let alone have a conversation with him. He would take whatever progress he could get. He was genuinely committed to working hard to restore the trust between them.

With a nod, he stood up and made his way towards the door, his two friends following closely behind. However, just as he was about to leave, he heard his name being called.

"If you genuinely can't understand why you did what you did, then you're even more oblivious than I gave you credit for. Think about what I told you the last time we spoke; it might provide some clarity." Jake was well aware of what Beomgyu was alluding to, but he struggled to come to terms with the harsh reality.

Had he really betrayed his friend for a girl? Even worse, not just any girl, but you?

This newfound revelation continued to haunt Jake in the following weeks. It didn’t help that, reaching out to you proved to be a much more challenging task compared to Beomgyu. Unlike Beomgyu, who lived with him, you were not in close proximity. Since the last time he saw you, you had blocked him on all platforms, and whenever he attempted to approach you, you (along with your friends) never gave him the slightest chance to speak. As time passed, he found himself gradually losing his sanity and sleep over you. He couldn’t understand how he could go from hating you all his life to suddenly developing a crush on you within a couple months. Like there was no explanation behind it and that was putting him in misery.

"Ugh, that creep showed up again, but I told him to fuck off," Lily remarked with a hint of annoyance as you got to your usual seat. Ever since that first day, you had become close with Lily, and after confiding in her about what had happened, she became fiercely protective of you. She acted like a guard dog, ready to bite at any moment, scaring Jake away whenever he tried to approach you in class.

You rolled your eyes in response to Jake's persistence. "I thought he would have given up by now."

Before Lily could reply, Professor Choi's voice cut through the conversation.

"I assume everyone remembered to submit your project proposal papers by last night?" Professor Choi's words caused you to audibly gasp, drawing the attention of a few heads.

Unfortunately, you had completely forgotten about the deadline, and judging by Jake's reaction from across the room, it seemed he had too. Dealing with Physics on your own since you had let go of your previous tutor had kept you busy. Although you had performed well on the test for that class the previous day, you had compromised your grade in this particular assignment, and you felt like crying.

The next hour, you tuned out Professor Choi's lecture, feeling down as you hurriedly wrote up the proposal in hopes to submit it, even though it would likely be graded as late. You knew your grade would still suffer but it was better than a zero.

Just then, your phone buzzed next to you. It was a message from Winter. "Jake wants me to ask if you turned in the project proposal."

You huffed, realizing that you couldn't solely blame Jake for not submitting the project proposal since you hadn't done so either. As it was a group project, you shared the responsibility, but you still felt annoyed that it meant you would likely have to confront him face to face about it.

It took you quite a while to gather the courage and suppress your pride before finally getting out of your car and arriving at the EpNu house. In the daylight, the house appeared entirely different, and you felt a sense of intimidation, especially since you came alone. Standing in front of the door, you contemplated whether to knock or simply enter when the door suddenly swung open, relieving you of your dilemma.

"Oh, hello? I didn't realize someone was at the door. How can I help you?" The boy who greeted you seemed familiar, but you couldn't recall his name.

He had an angelic look about him, which caught you off guard as he appeared quite different from the typical EpNu boys. Don't get it wrong, he was undoubtedly handsome, but compared to the likes of Jake, Jay, Heeseung, and even Niki, he exuded an almost innocent aura.

"Um, I was just wondering if Jake is here?" you asked timidly, feeling a bit embarrassed about your question.

The boy smiled angelically again and pointed upwards. "Yeah, Jake hyung is in his room. It's the first one on the left. Oh, by the way, I'm Sunoo! Nice to meet you. I think I've seen you before. Are you an AES?"

"Thanks, and yes, I am! Nice to meet you, Sunoo. I'm Y/N," you replied, unable to hide your delight. His friendly demeanor helped alleviate your previous nervousness.

"Of course! I have to go to class now, but hopefully, I'll see you around again!" Sunoo waved before departing.

As you made your way in the direction he had indicated, you noticed that the house was surprisingly quiet. Finding Jake's room wasn't difficult, and you said a little prayer before mustering up the courage to knock on the door.

It took a while before you could hear any movement from inside the room, and after a couple of seconds, the door finally swung open.

Jake's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you standing there. You were the last person he expected to find at his door.

"Hey, Y/N. Uh, what are you doing here?" Jake asked, clearly confused but still letting you in.

"I submitted a terribly written and rushed proposal that I wrote during class, hoping it would be enough to atleast get us some points. I think we need to discuss what we're going to do with the project," you explained, taking note of the slight messiness of Jake's room, with some clothes scattered on the floor. It seemed he had a roommate who was currently out, and the room’s layout seemed similar to Jungwon's room.

"Oh yeah, thanks so much for doing that. Sorry that I forgot too and yeah, I think we should work on it together again. But, Y/N, can I just start by—" Jake began, but you interrupted him.

"Jake, just stop. I'm not interested in hearing you out. I don't plan on being friends with you, and I'm only here because we're assigned to work as partners. I think it would be best if we changed our plan and just created a website or something. It might be the easiest option, allowing us to work on it separately. Let's split the work in half and focus on our respective parts, so we don't have to meet up," you stated firmly, noticing the dissatisfaction on Jake's face.

"No, that's fucking stupid. If we don't work together, how will it be cohesive? We've already received one bad grade for the project; we need to make the final product good enough to compensate for the proposal," Jake retorted, causing you to frown.

"Well, sorry, but I really don't want to have to see you. I know I'm being stubborn right now, but can you blame me for not wanting to work on this with you? Besides, I admit I'm also responsible for forgetting about the proposal, but if you were so concerned about our grade, then why didn't you take care of it and submit it on time then?" Your voice started to rise as the conversation heated up. As usual, you and Jake couldn't seem to agree on anything.

"I don't know! I'm sorry, I just assumed you had already turned it in or something. But seriously, you're being absolutely ridiculous. Just get over it! It's just one project, and we only have like two and a half months left. There's something seriously wrong with you if you can't handle working with me on a project that determines our whole grade for the class!" Both you and Jake were now yelling loudly, and unbeknownst to both of you, the distance between you was narrowing.

"You just assumed I would take care of it? What the hell, Jake? And I did try to work with you. In fact, we were working pretty well until you decided to fuck everything up by lying! Jake, you're being so selfish—" You were abruptly cut off as Jake's lips met yours.

Amidst his anger, all Jake could think about was how hot you looked, with your furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes. The next thing he knew, he was leaning forward, connecting your lips together. As he fully realized what he was doing, he didn't back away; instead, he deepened the kiss. A small part of him knew that he had been fantasizing about this moment for weeks by now.

You, on the other hand, was extremely caught off guard and frozen for a few seconds. But as you felt the warmth and softness of his lips, you began to respond, gradually easing into the kiss. Hesitant movements transformed into more assertive actions, as your teeth clashed and your mouths opened wider.

Obviously, this was not at all how you expected your visit with Jake to unfold. If it were a few months ago, you would have slapped Jake for pulling something like this, but right now, something within you made the anger dissipate, replaced by an unexpected desire for your childhood ex-boyfriend.

Jake's hands found their way to your waist, where a sliver of skin was showing and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan into the kiss as you felt his hands slowly caressing up your skin. His fingers traced the bottom of your bra hesitating, almost as if he was asking for permission to go further and you responded by leaning further into his frame fully giving him consent.

Your lips detached for a quick second to take off your shirt and bra before reconnecting with the same fervor as before. Jake couldn’t believe how soft you felt under his fingers as he roamed his hands all over your breasts before testing the waters out by softly rubbing your nipples with his thumb.

Your head shoots backward in pleasure which Jake took advantage of as he leaned down to mark your exposed neck. His hands were now working their way down your body, and you shivered as you felt his fingertips trailing lower and lower. This time he didn’t wait for you as you felt him quickly yank your pants down along with your underwear the second he reached them.

You could see Jake sporting a familiar smirk as he observed your bare body.

“Fuck, Y/N. Look at yourself, you look like a slut. I mean you’re already wet and I’ve barely done anything.” Jake proceeded to whip you around making you face the sliding closet mirror that was located on the other side of the room.

His words filled you with humiliation yet you couldn’t help but find yourself getting wetter at the scene you were met with. His hand had snaked up to your neck, holding you in a way that made you look directly at yourself in the mirror, and his other hand was making its way to your core.

His fingers slowly rubbed at your clit before entering you with no warning. His finger was thicker than your own that you were usually used to, inciting you to lean into his frame, having a hard time keeping yourself up with the amount of pleasure you were feeling. Jake’s observation seemed to be correct as you seemed to be sopping wet with the squelching noises that could be heard as he moved his finger in and out of you.

His hand on your neck had become tighter and you could feel how hard he was becoming from behind you. “Please Jake…” You begged, wanting more.

“Please what?” He chuckled at your desperation. “You want another finger?” Once again, without hesitation, he added another digit inside of you cutting off any sound coming from within you. His fingers moved at a fast pace and your hands moved to be on top of his as if it would give you stability. The scene in the mirror looked like something out of a porno and Jake almost wanted to stop and reach for his phone to capture this moment.

You felt incredibly full and you couldn’t even imagine how his dick would feel if this was how you felt with just his fingers. You couldn’t tell if you were feeling lightheaded from his hand wrapped around your throat or from his fingers deftly moving inside your core, but either way, you could feel yourself being close.

“I’m almost there, please,” you whimpered out feeling his thumb moving harshly against your clit whilst his fingers quickened to bring you to your release.

Something inside you snapped, and suddenly, you lost all control over your body. It's as if a surge of electricity coursed through you, blinding your senses and the only thing you could do was moan. Just before you collapsed to the ground, Jake swiftly caught you, preventing the fall. Your eyes remained shut, taken by the overwhelming pleasure that washed over you.

He withdraws his fingers, slick with your essence, and raised them towards your face. "Open," he instructed, and without a moment's hesitation, you complied, parting your lips as he slid his fingers into your mouth.

The lewd sight in the mirror of you sucking his fingers only fueled his growing impatience. Unable to wait any longer, he swiftly spun you around and forcefully threw you onto his bed.

As he hovered above you, Jake assumed an aura reminiscent of a predator closing in on its prey. In this particular scenario, you found yourself willingly embracing the role of the prey, ready to be devoured by him.

Jake finally started to take off his clothes, and you couldn’t help but feel your entire body becoming hot at the sight. There was no denying how incredibly attractive Jake Sim was, and your mind went into overdrive as you eagerly observed his body. His toned figure was no surprise as he was an athlete but what took you aback the most was his dick.

No wonder he walked around like he owned the world. With a dick like his, you couldn’t blame him. He was the biggest you’d ever seen as he seemed to reach his mid-thigh with a thickness your mind could barely comprehend, and you were almost skeptical that he would even fit in you. It was pink with prominent veins and glistened as precum covered his tip. You couldn’t help but admire how pretty his dick looked as it stood proudly in front of you.

“Holy shit Jake…” You gaped with an almost concerned look on your face and this causes him to smirk at your response. Nearly every person that he had been with had given him the same reaction and he didn’t mind at all, as it boasted his ego to a new extreme.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” your mouth watered as you watched Jake giving himself a couple of pumps before moving to hover over you.

“Yeah, think you can take it, princess?” You quickly nodded eyes locked with his, determined to take all of him in you.

You could feel him moving his hips closer to yours as his tip slowly moved against your entrance, teasing you. "Well, considering how fussy you always are about everything, I'm not really sure you'd be able to handle it," he further teased, flashing a mischievous grin. He pretended to ponder the idea of whether to insert himself in you or not, leaving you on the brink of exasperation as you let out an exaggerated whine. Despite, still being sensitive from cumming earlier, you couldn’t care less as the only thing on your mind was having him in you.

“Jake please, I need you in me right now,” you were on the verge of crying out of frustration and it felt like forever before he finally gave in to your wishes.

He plunged his entire length into you without pause and you could only gasp while latching your hands to his biceps. The stretch was foreign and painful, yet you wanted more. You were right, as the fullness you were currently feeling was incomparable to before, in fact, it was nothing you’d ever felt before in your life. And when Jake started to move inside you, once again not giving you time to adjust to him, you seemed to lose all control of your body.

You were incredibly warm and it was almost painful how tight you were gripping him. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight. You sure you’re not a virgin?” All you could do was shake your head unable to fully form words barely comprehending him.

His pace quickened and he couldn’t help but groan at the sight of your cum from earlier coating white all around his cock. You felt like you were perfectly made to fit him and if he could, he would want to spend the rest of his life impaled in you.

Your eyes started to well with tears. It almost felt like too much as your sensitivity from your previous orgasm lingered yet Jake was ruthless, rutting in and out of you without giving you time to even breathe. Your moans and whines along with his grunts progressively got louder and by now, neither of you could hold them back and you were sure his neighbors could audibly hear everything that was going on inside his room.

“Mmh Jake, so good. So fucking good,” you whimper while latching your nails to his back needing to hold on to something. His name seemed to be the only thing roaming in your mind.

Sweat was dripping from him as his eyebrows scrunched indicating how concentrated he was in the act. He was determined to make you cum again and when he spotted a stream of tears escaping from your eyes, he couldn’t help but tease you. “Thought you said you could handle it? You’re moaning like a fucking slut. Does it feel that good?”

You failed to answer him too engrossed in how he was making you feel and this causes the smirk on his face to widen. “Not able to talk back now, huh? Fucking dumb slut.”

If he was speaking to you like this anywhere else, you would have instantly bit back, yet under him it was as if you lost all autonomy, unable to produce any words. You indeed were being fucked dumb. You shook your head as tears continued to roll down your cheeks, feeling humiliated at his words, yet you felt yourself tightening your grip on his dick indicating how turned on you actually were by his words.

“So close, so so close,” you’re finally able to pant out tightening your grip on him, holding onto him as if your life depended on it. You could also feel Jake being close as his grip on you tightened and breathing became more erratic.

And with a harsh pinch that Jake gave you on your clit, you came. Hitting you much more intensely than before, the impact of your orgasm was overwhelming, causing your eyes to roll back and a sharp gasp to escape your lips. In the heat of the moment, you bit down hard on your lip, feeling a metallic tang as the taste of blood instantly filled your mouth.

Jake continued to thrust in you, pace getting sloppier as he felt himself getting closer at just the sight of you cumming. He grunted one last time before unloading himself in you and dropping his weight on top of you, yet too tired, you didn’t attempt to push him off. In fact, it felt as if all the energy had been drained from your body as the next thing you knew, you found yourself slowly waking up in a dark room, obvious that it was nighttime. The two of you must have passed out afterwards, as Jake laid sound asleep next to you, oblivious to your awakening, his snores filling the air.

The weight of your actions crashed down on you with a sudden and overwhelming force. You had just slept with Jake, your sworn enemy, and a wave of shame washed over you. You struggled to comprehend how you allowed yourself to succumb to such a situation, and a desperate urge to escape consumed you.

You ran to your car as if your life depended on it, desperate to leave the scene behind. Nausea churned in your stomach, almost having to pull your car aside a couple of times, and the very thought of what transpired hours earlier filled you with regret. Sure, you were all for fucking him earlier, but now all those emotions had transformed into self-disgust.

“Wonyoung, just kill me now and take me out of my misery!” You begged your roommate, the humiliation evident in your voice. Back at your dorm, your roommate had anxiously awaited your return as you had missed all her calls, unaware of the events that had unfolded. With a heavy heart, you recounted the details, laying bare the truth of what had taken place, adding to your own misery and shame.

Unfortunately, your best friend seemed far too amused by your distress. "Aha, I knew it! All that 'hate' between you two was just unresolved sexual tension! It took you long enough," she giggled, plopping herself down on your bed while you buried your face in your pillow.

"What the fuck, Won? You're not helping," you cried out, feeling a sense of betrayal at her lack of empathy regarding the utter seriousness of the situation.

"Hey, why are you so upset? It was consensual, and he's hot as fuck, so what's the problem? Oh my god! Was he bad? Or did he have a micropenis? Remember when I hooked up with that guy who had one? It was terrifying." If you could see her face, you'd laugh at her genuine concern. However, you were in no laughing mood as it was almost painful to admit to her that none of her worries were relevant. The soreness between your legs that made it hard for you to walk up to your dorm and marks on your neck that looked as if you were attacked proved that point all too well.

"No, it wasn't any of that. Ugh, I hate to admit it, but that was probably the best sex I've had in a while. I mean, he was huge, like porn-star level big, and his hands... the way they wrapped around my neck-" You caught yourself, realizing you're about to divulge more explicit details. It dawned on you that you had nothing but positive things to say about your sexual encounter with Jake.

Wonyoung's eyes widened, a devilish grin spreading across her face. "Oh my god, Y/N! Keep going! I want to hear all the juicy details!"

"No! Geez, Won, I don't ask you to tell me about everything you do with Jungwon, so stop being weird!" While clearly not offended by her, you definitely were slightly concerned by how invested your roommate seemed to be in your sexcapade.

"Oh, are you interested? Because I'm more than willing to share. I mean, he was here yesterday while you were in class, and we-" You cut her off, making a sound of surprise at her confession.

"Here? In our room?" Your eyes widened.

"Yeah, where else do you think we go?" Her nonchalant tone sharply contrasted with your own. "Don't worry, babe. We've never touched your stuff, except for that one time we made out against your bed, but we moved to mine before we actually did the dirty deed," she casually confessed which you were sure she was doing on purpose to mess with you. You let out a high-pitched squeal at the revelation, quite disturbed.

"Oh my God, I'm crashing at Yujin's tonight! I don't think I can sleep here knowing what you just told me." You hastily grabbed your pillow and made your way out, fully determined to spend the night next door with your other friend.

"Sweet dreams, babe! Love you lots!" Wonyoung's voice trailed off as you made your hasty exit.

The next time you had your Relationship 101 class, you found yourself nervously sweating, unsure of how things would unfold between you and Jake.

"Hey, Y/N! Do you think we can meet up later after my practice to work on the project? Sunoo told me earlier that the library was closed because of a burst pipe, but we can meet at the house if you're available," Jake popped out of nowhere before suggesting. It was nowhere near any of the scenarios you had imagined in your head.

The way he addressed you, as if nothing had happened between the two of you a few days ago, left you utterly flabbergasted. You stared at him in disbelief before managing to utter a response.

"Wait, uh, what?" It was all you could muster, feeling yourself get hot at just the sight of him out of embarrassment (and maybe a little horniness).

"Yeah, he told me something went wrong on the second floor, and it messed up the entire pipe system. The library will unfortunately be closed indefinitely. I hope none of the books got soaked; that would be terrible," Jake genuinely expressed his concern for the library, completely oblivious to your astonishment.

"Um, yeah, I guess that works for me," you meekly replied, trying to match his nonchalant tone. If he wasn't going to bring it up, you figured there was no reason for you to do so either.

"Okay, bet! See you later!" He then walked away, leaving you to still process everything that had just happened.

Feeling just as nervous as last time, you approached the EpNu house but you figured that it would be better to get over with it so without hesitation, you opened the door and stepped inside.

However, this time, you noticed that there were a few people around, and the sound of activity came from the kitchen. As you closed the door behind you, Jay popped his head out from the kitchen door, wearing a smile as if he had been expecting you.

"Hey, Y/N!" You weren't particularly close to Jay, but you knew he was one of Jake's best friends, along with Sunghoon. You also knew he was dating Ningning, one of the older girls you had become close with, so his friendly greeting didn't seem out of place.

"Hey, Jay! How have you been? Ningning mentioned how Mrs. Jung caught you trying to sneak in. I hope she didn't give you too hard of a time." Your house mom had a keen eye for things, and it was rare for anything to escape her.

"Yeah, she literally popped out of nowhere and scared the crap out of me. Sunghoon told me the back door wouldn't be guarded as there were no cameras there, but it seems Mrs. Jung caught on that people were using it because she found me as soon as I got in. But that won't stop me," he shrugged. You had laughed when you first heard the story, and it was still amusing to hear how Jay had been caught.

"Well, do you want a slider? I made a bunch because the guys were complaining about not having any food." You were never one to turn down food so you nodded without hesitation.

He handed you a plate with four mouthwatering sliders. "Here, take two for Jake as well. He was wanting one earlier." The fact that Jay knew exactly who you were here for caught you off guard for a moment, but then you remembered that he was Jake's closest friend so you brushed it off.

"Sure thing! Thanks so much for this they look so good, and better luck next time with Mrs. Jung!" you said, bidding Jay farewell before making your way up the stairs toward the familiar room.

You knocked twice, and the door swung open instantly, as if Jake had been eagerly awaiting your arrival. He greeted you with a wide smile, and his eyes lit up with excitement when you handed him the plate of food.

"Oh hell yeah, Jay’s a fucking legend for this!" Jake exclaimed, grabbing a slider from the plate before passing it back to you. You followed suit, taking one for yourself. Jake's assessment was spot on because the moment the food touched your taste buds, you couldn't help but gasp at how good it was.

"Holy shit, this is amazing!" you exclaimed, and Jake chuckled at your reaction.

"Yeah, Jay is probably the best cook in the house, after the actual cooks, of course. He's always willing to make something for us. Last week, he made steaks for me and a few of the guys, and it tasted like it came straight from a fancy restaurant," Jake boasted, clearly proud of his friend's talent.

"Wow, you guys are seriously lucky. This is unbelievably good," you said, reaching for another slider while silently making a mental note to ask Jay for the recipe later.

"Yeah, he's awesome. Next time he cooks something, I'll make sure he saves you a plate," Jake offered, surprising you with his kindness. It felt strange to see him being so nice to you. Maybe Wonyoung was onto something. Perhaps fucking had somehow repaired the relationship between the two of you.

Whatever it was, must have worked its magic again as you once again found yourself in a similar predicament as before. It was unclear how working on the project had escalated to you kneeling on the floor in front of Jake, but neither of you complained.

“Fuck, look at you. So pretty, all on your knees for me.” Jake mused while you looked up at him with wide eyes as your lips wrapped around the tip of his dick.

You could feel his hand resting on the back of your head, slowly guiding you down his length, and once he reached the back of your throat, you could feel your gag reflex kicking in. Undeterred by his size, you started to bob at a slow pace, but once you saw Jake’s response, you felt yourself becoming more determined to make him feel good.

“Shit, you really are a slut aren’t you? Look at you taking everything I’m giving you.” Jake’s hands had now made a makeshift ponytail as he was dragging you up and down his dick with more force than before. You were now basically choking on his cock, yet he seemed to be overtaken by the pleasure to give you any respite.

Tears and spit rolled down your face as you tried to keep up with his pace. Your nose was hitting his pelvis as you were now fully taking his entire length down your throat. His abuse of your throat was making you beyond wet and you reached between your legs, desperate to get yourself off. However, Jake seemed unamused with your act as he harshly yanked your hair back, forcing you off his dick and facing up at him.

“Dumb bitch, you thought you were going to get away with that, didn’t you. Don’t even think about touching yourself, the only way you’re cumming tonight is on my cock.” You whimpered aroused by how roughly he was treating you.

You meekly nod with tears still rolling down your face before he gives your face a couple of taps. “Good girl.” He then pushes you back on his length and continues going back to fucking your face.

Ever since you two first fucked, Jake had been going back in his mind and replaying everything from how you looked in the mirror with his fingers stuffed inside of you to how you looked under him and all he could think about was how he had missed out on capturing those glorious sights. He wanted to be able to go back and take a look at them, forever treasuring those images without them getting hazy in his memory. He, of course, wasn’t going to be making the same mistake twice so while he was pistoning his hip in and out of you, he reached over next to him and grabbed his phone.

From your peripheral, you could see Jake holding something and when you looked up, you were met with the back camera of his phone. Was he videoing you?

At the realization, you once again found yourself fighting the urge to touch yourself. Just the thought of having your dirty acts documented had you going frenzy. Deciding to put on a show, you tried your best to keep your eyes open to look directly into the camera while exaggerating your gags.

Jake moaned loudly before abruptly pulling you off his length. You always had an inkling that Jake was a freak, and continued to prove your assumptions correct as he took ahold of his dick to start smothering your face with it. Your already messy face was now covered all over in the mixture of his precum and spit and it was an absolute filthy picture, and he loved every second of it. You giggled while biting your lip at just imagining how you probably looked from his screen. He continued to tap his length on your face and he couldn’t help but admit how the view from his phone was absolutely pornographic.

After having a bit of fun dragging himself all over your face, making sure that you were covered in him, before he took hold of your hair again and pushed you back down his dick. He gave you no time to recover as he resumed his fast pace. Jake could feel himself already getting close and when you moved your hands to fondle his balls, an instant reaction was triggered out of him.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Jake grunted before pushing you all the way down and holding you there, leaving you to struggle with the lack of air. You could feel him spurting himself in your mouth as he kept you in place until he finished. Cum was spilling out from side of your mouth while your eyes were bloodshot from the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t swallow yet, open up,” he instructed and you obliged by opening your mouth wide, looking absolutely filthy with his load inside your mouth. By now, the cum that leaked along with your spit had flowed down to your breasts and Jake groaned again at the sight before moving the camera closer to you to get a good shot of everything.

“Swallow,” and once again you followed his instruction without hesitation before opening your mouth again to show that you had done exactly what he had instructed you to do.

This dynamic between you and Jake was surprisingly working well, and it was no wonder that you found yourselves having sex regularly. Strangely enough, it seemed to have a positive effect on your overall relationship, as the two of you were no longer as antagonistic towards each other as before. In fact, you had been diligently working on your project together and were almost finished, which was quite unexpected considering there were still three weeks left until the deadline. He also resumed being your physics tutor, which you were very much grateful for. Despite its unconventional nature, sex seemed to be working like a miracle for the both of you.

"So, how are things going with Jake?" Winter asked from your bed munching on some trail mix your mom had sent back with you while you were unpacking.

You had just returned from Thanksgiving break, during which most of your time was spent hanging out with your sisters and fucking Jake. You were surprised that no one had caught on to the two of you sneaking off for a quickie in the bathroom during the joint family Thanksgiving dinner, but you certainly weren't complaining. After all, the last thing you wanted was for anyone from either one of your families to find out about the true nature of your newfound amicability.

"What do you mean?" you replied, acting oblivious to Winter's question.

Winter had been extremely skeptical when she first found out about your "situationship" through her roommate, who had learned about it from Wonyoung. Winter, being close friends with Jake, knew his reputation with girls. He was a serial heartbreaker who frankly had a track record of being a dick to girls, and as your big, she was naturally concerned about your well-being. Despite your assurances that the relationship between you and Jake was strictly physical, Winter remained unconvinced. In fact, she even went as far as threatening Jake (and his best friends, much to their girlfriends' dismay, and his little, Niki, who she claimed were collateral) with a baseball bat aimed between his legs. Needless to say, by the end of the night, everyone was in agreement with Winter's wishes.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. Are you two still friends with benefits or whatever you guys are doing?" Winter probed, her concern evident in her tone.

You didn't respond immediately, pretending to be occupied with putting away your makeup. In reality, you were deep in thought, trying to figure out how to articulate your answer. It was difficult to classify your relationship with Jake as friends with benefits since you weren't even really friends to begin with.

"Well, yeah, I guess... It's more like acquaintances with benefits, if you want to put a label on it," you finally replied, sensing Winter's lingering disapproval.

"You know I love you, right? I'm sorry if I sound annoying, but I just don't like what's going on. Trust me, I care about Jake, and he's been a great friend to me, but his history with girls is terrible. And let's not forget how he's treated you throughout your life! I just don't want him to use you and leave you hurt. Why can't you two just date? Maybe that would give more weight to your relationship and ensure he's serious about this," Winter's concerns echoed the sentiments she had expressed repeatedly since learning about your relationship.

"No way, that's a terrible idea. We don't even like each other in that way, let alone enough to be actual friends. Plus, he doesn’t have to be serious about this cause there are no feelings involved. Just trust me, Winter. I've got it under control. Don't worry about me," you assured her, unaware that your big's intuition had been spot on. Little did you know that this would mark the beginning of the end.

While frat parties were usually your go-to on weekends, you and your friends were not opposed to hitting up the downtown bars. They offered a different atmosphere compared to house parties, with a more diverse crowd and a wider selection of drinks. Truth be told, there were times when you even preferred the bar scene.

Paradoxx was the hotspot for most undergrads at HybeU, aside from Greek Row, and that's where you found yourself, a few shots deep with your friends. You decided to invite your seatmate, Lily, to join you, and Wonyoung brought along her boyfriend, who in turn brought Niki, Jake's little. Surprisingly, the five of you hit it off remarkably well, dancing and enjoying your drinks.

"Y/N, honestly, when Jungwon first told me we were going out with you, I never expected you to be this fun. Jake kept talking about how you were snobby and had a stick up your ass, but damn, you're actually so much fun," Niki giggled, clearly intoxicated (he was definitely a lightweight despite his height). You couldn't help but laugh at his confession. It was typical of Jake to badmouth you, but you were glad to prove him wrong.

"Aww, thanks, Niki! Honestly, I had no idea what to expect from you just because you are Jake's little, but I'm really glad Jungwon brought you along. We should all definitely go out like this again!" As soon as your words reached his ears, Niki engulfed you in a tight hug, albeit a slightly suffocating one. You had heard from Beomgyu that Niki was probably their most chaotic pledge, and while you could certainly see why, given how unhinged he seemed to be, but you didn't expect him to be such a sweetheart.

"Here you go!" You heard Lily say as she ran up to you while handing you a shot. Wonyoung and Jungwon also trailed behind her holding matching shots in their hands with an extra for Niki. Jungwon had offered to get a round for everyone, and the other two joined in to help carry them back.

With a collective clinking of shot cups, everyone toasted before throwing the tequila back. The familiar burn of the alcohol wasn't exactly pleasant, but in your tipsy state, you couldn't care less.

In contrast to Niki, Jungwon didn't seem as intoxicated. He had his arms wrapped around Wonyoung from behind, wearing the biggest smile you had ever seen. The two of them swayed to the pulsating beat of the bar, and you and Lily couldn't help but coo at their adorableness. Just as Jungwon was about to speak, three strangers abruptly pushed their way into your friend group, interrupting the moment.

"Hey, are you Y/N?" The tallest of the three asked with a smirk on his face. The other two behind him wore similar expressions, making you feel uneasy. Despite your discomfort, you replied.

"Yeah I am, um, sorry, do we know each other?" You and your friends shared confused looks, as none of you seemed to recognize them. However, the three individuals seemed to light up upon confirming their assumption.

"Fuck, me and the boys here are huge fans of your work, man. You're a legend. Daeho over here has been raving about how you should seriously consider going professional." While their words sounded like compliments, their smirks gave off a mocking vibe. Besides, you had no idea what they were talking about, and their presence was making you increasingly uncomfortable. It didn't help that all three of them appeared completely plastered, struggling to maintain their balance.

As always, Wonyoung’s protective nature regarding you kicked in as she spoke up addressing them assertively. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, her little short films!" The three of them erupted into laughter, as if the boy had just cracked the funniest joke ever.

"Wait a minute, I know you guys. You're on the soccer team, right?" Jungwon furrowed his eyebrows, recognizing the three boys who were still recovering from their fit of laughter. Niki also seemed to be putting together where he remembered them from.

"Yup, we are. Who are you?" They asked, but before Jungwon could respond, they redirected their attention back to you. "Why are you acting so shy now? Hey, we're your biggest fans. Shouldn't you be doing something for us? How about a show?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You finally snapped, annoyed by their presence.

"Why are you playing dumb? Fuck, you really are a dumb slut, aren't you?" Their words instantly took your breath away. Those were the exact words Jake would use during sex. How did they know?

"Whoa, what the fuck, dude!" Niki intervened, pushing them away from you. The rest of your friends reacted similarly, raising their voices in shock and disbelief at the derogatory comments directed at you.

One of them pushed back against Niki before speaking again. "Don't touch me, you fucker. Besides, it's not like we said anything that wasn't true. You two EpNu boys, right? There's no way you don't know what we're talking about. I bet you guys have some of the exclusives, right? Come on, what did Jake show you guys? Share with the class! Was she on her knees or taking it from behind?" The boys continued their taunting, and it became clear to everyone in your group what they were insinuating.

The room suddenly felt suffocating, and you felt a wave of sickness wash over you. Panic gripped you, and you knew you were on the verge of a panic attack. Desperate to escape, you bolted out of the bar, needing to get away immediately. The thought that Jake had been showing intimate videos of the two of you to others was unbearable. It was a betrayal beyond words. Despite the tumultuous nature of your relationship with Jake, this crossed a line that was incomprehensible to you. It was even more than cruel; it was devastating.

Wonyoung and Lily quickly followed behind you, reaching out to comfort you in your hyperventilating state, attempting to calm you down. However, their comforting words were drowned out by your overwhelming despair. All you could do was cry, confronted with the devastating reality of what had transpired. Winter had been right all along. You were utterly broken, beyond repair, because you had trusted Jake, and you should have listened to her. Now you were left to face the consequences.

TAGLIST: @hsgwrld @matchawhip @chiefturtlebonkghost @bolliwon @cha0thicpisces @chaechae-23 @softiehee @jeonjieun17 @emikisses @ctlvrsworld @starryeyedbabey @yunjardi @hyunjinekoma @jaeyunflix @txtispeng

UNABLE TO TAG: @bellebear @yur1a1

#jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake scenarios #jake x reader #jake smut #jake sim fluff #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #jake enhypen #jake sim scenarios #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #fic: monkey bars

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suashii · 2 months

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— 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎, 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 1.6k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ suna and reader are roommates ﾉ jealousy ofc :3 ﾉ + atsumu appearance !

moving in with suna was a bad idea.

he’s not a bad roommate. sure, he takes extra long showers and uses up all the hot water at least once a week and you’ve had to remind him to wash his dishes every now and then, but he’s not a bad roommate.

your frustration that comes with being suna’s roommate has less to do with him and more to do with the feelings you’ve been hellbent on keeping a secret ever since they became known to you a few weeks ago.

that much is getting harder these days with midterms being upon you. there’s been a girl over the apartment—some chick suna was paired with to work on a presentation. that fact alone doesn’t bother you; suna was kind enough to ask before inviting her over. she’s where your problem lies.

she’s shameless, really. always laughs a little too loud at jokes that aren’t that funny and always sits a little too close to suna when you’re positive the coffee table they’re working at isn’t that small. and the worst part is that suna is oblivious to it all.

even now he’s blissfully ignorant of the way she’s not so discreetly flirting with him. she’s supposed to be packing up to leave but, like she’s had some sort of life-changing revelation, she stops in her tracks and turns to suna, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you have a volleyball game this week, right?”

from the kitchen counter, you roll your eyes and stuff another spoonful of rice into your mouth. you wouldn’t normally eat in the kitchen while she was here but one too many spills by your laptop and the inevitable crumbs left in your bed have kept you from taking your meals back to your room. you’re starting to think a sticky keyboard or the unpleasant feel of tiny pieces of food against your skin would be preferable to whatever you’re about to witness.

suna nods and she pulls her hand away to clap. “perfect! i’ll be there to cheer you on!”

her exaggerated excitement causes you to snort, earning the attention of both of them. there’s a curious expression on suna’s face but the girl is all but staring daggers at you like you popped her bubble of joy and ruined the moment. you’re tempted to laugh.

“sorry, saw something funny on my phone,” you lie, shooting the two of them a smile before turning around to wash your dishes.

you dawdle at the sink until you hear the front door close. suna appears as you’re drying your hands and you spare him a glance, wondering if he’ll bring up your strange behavior. part of you hopes he does—maybe then you could open his eyes, finally make him privy to that girl’s blatant attraction to him.

he doesn’t question it, though. instead, he asks, “can i see what you were laughing at?”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

“you don’t get it, ‘tsumu, she’s actually the worst,” you tell him, dramatically dropping your head on his shoulder.

“why don’t you just leave when you know she’s coming over?”

your eyes cut over to atsumu, an unsavory frown tugging at your lips due to his outrageous suggestion. you can’t believe your best friend would side with her. “why should i? i’m the one who lives here.”

“because, clearly, it’s bothering you.” he isn’t the least bit apologetic for his outlandish recommendation. “look, it’s either that or you come out and tell suna that you like him. i’m tired of hearing you bitch and moan every time i’m here. we’re supposed to be watching them do that.” atsumu points to the screen of your laptop that’s playing some trashy reality show the two of you are hooked on.

you click your tongue at his blunt response, lifting your head from his shoulder. maybe he’s right—complaining won’t get you anywhere, but you’re too proud to tell him so. “hey. this is the thanks i get for putting up with your relationship problems? you ungrateful brat.”

you flick his forehead which elicits a shocked gasp from the blonde. a victorious grin is in the process of making its way to your lips when the plush of one of the many stuffed animals you keep in your room hits your cheek. your jaw drops in surprise at atsumu’s courageous counter.

“i’m going to kill you.”

you aren’t usually one for using your precious plushies as a weapon but any one within your reach is promptly launched at the setter. he dodges some and is whacked by others, all while theatrically screeching for you to stop. you’ve still got some steam left by the time you run out of ammunition and atsumu can tell. he reaches out, taking your wrists in his hands to prevent you from doing anything.

“wait, i’m sorry,” he breathes out, strands of messy hair falling in front of his face. “truce?”

you’re considering whether or not you want to take him up on his offer when your door swings open. suna’s on the other side.

his eyes scan the room, taking in the mess of colorful stuffed animals strewn across the space before they land on you. not you, but the way atsumu’s holding you. something about it makes his jaw tighten.

“hey.” your voice, breathier than usual, convinces suna to meet your eye. “what’s up?”

the scene he walked in on almost made him forget why he’d come by in the first place. “i’m ordering food. do you want anything?”

you hum in contemplation and then smile. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

he nods, readying to close the door. “i’ll call you when it’s here.”

the click of the door shutting sounds over the indiscernible voices coming from your laptop. taking your hands back from atsumu, you straighten out your clothes as thoughts of suna cross your mind. he usually finds any way to make a conversation drag, lingering in your doorway even when you’ve told him to leave so you can go to sleep.

you’re about to ask atsumu if he caught on to his friend’s abnormal lack of words, but he’s got another idea.

“yeah, thanks, i don’t want anything,” atsumu shouts at the closed door.

forty minutes pass before the episode ends and atsumu takes his leave. you see him out, planning your next viewing party as he puts on his shoes. he whispers something about settling shit with suna before then so he isn’t subject to your fussing the next time he comes around and darts down the hall before your fist can meet his shoulder.

you make a mental note to get back at him when you see him tomorrow as you shut the door and spin on the ball of your foot. from the foyer, you can see suna situated at the coffee table. there are plastic delivery bags on the surface and he seems to have already started eating from his portion.

“what happened to letting me know when the food was here?” you ask, shuffling over to his figure and plopping down on the floor beside him.

through a mouthful of noodles, he replies, “i didn’t want to interrupt.”

you almost scold him for talking with food in his mouth but then his words register. your eyebrows furrow as you split your wooden chopsticks. “interrupt what, exactly?”

it’s petty, he knows, but he can’t ignore the feeling that’s been gnawing at him since he saw atsumu touching you so comfortably. it’s like the image is seared into his eyelids and he’s forced to see it every time he blinks.

“i don’t know.” he flicks a mushroom with his utensil. “just seemed like you two were in the middle of something when i walked in.”

you hum, not paying much mind to his words as you pick up the stir-fry with your chopsticks. the noodles hang right in front of your lips when you respond, “i guess we kind of were.”

suna frowns at your answer. he wanted to hear you say it was nothing so he could kick himself for being so unreasonably bent out of shape. instead, your reply fuels him to ask the question he’d been wondering about for nearly the past hour. “are you and atsumu together?”

“what?” you sputter around your noodles. you want to tell him no but, unlike suna, you aren’t one for talking with your mouth full. your silence, however, only leads suna to keep going.

“i don’t care if you are but you should have told me so i wouldn’t just barge in on-”

“i’m not dating atsumu,” you finally reveal after swallowing your food. you’re not sure what possesses you to say the next part—perhaps you feel the need to really drive your point home—but it comes out speedily. “i like you.”

quiet blankets the room following your declaration. the two of you stare at each other with parted lips, suna’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. his lack of a response makes your heart beat heavily against your chest. it’s loud in your ears and you wonder if he can hear it too.

you breathe out an awkward laugh after a couple more seconds of silence. “look-”

“i like you, too,” suna admits.

“jeez, suna, you should have just said that!” you slap his shoulder, cheeks warming in belated embarrassment. “i thought i was going to have to move out because of one-sided feelings.”

“sorry.” he chuckles, rubbing the spot you had just hit. it didn’t hurt, but it felt different than the ones he had been met with in the past. he could get used to the tingles you leave behind on his skin. “i had to let it set in.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna x you #haikyuu x you #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna drabble #haikyuu drabbles

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atanx · 2 months

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James Somerton's "A Measured Response": A Measured Response

so I watched a reupload of the video because idk i like to torture myself. and i took a bunch of notes:

“I tried to be a voice for every member of the queer community, but that was a failed endeavour before it even started.”

what a strange way to say ‘I tried making it seem like I’m the only queer creator and stole from and actively harmed people in the queer community. knowingly. purposefully. and when I was called out in the past I tried to hide it.'

“I'm a cis, white, gay man. No matter how much I try to be a good spokesperson, I can never really, truly, understand the life experiences of other, far more put upon, members of the queer community.”

so of course I stole and hid work from the people I can't understand, gutting it of their personal experiences and refused to redirect my audience to those people so that they can enrich themselves and hear about issues pertaining them from someone who actually does understand.

“...one of the reasons I used their own words. But I should have made it clear that that was what I was doing.”

BITCH YOU STOLE. YOU GUTTED THEIR STORIES OF MEANINGFUL PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. YOU WEREN'T USING THEIR WORDS TO BE ABLE TO TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU CAN'T ENTIRELY UNDERSTAND YOU WERE MILKING THEM FOR CONTENT AND DEPRIVING PEOPLE OF ACTUAL, SOULFUL, MEANINGFUL ARTICLES AND BOOKS AND DOCUMENTARIES AND VIDEOS THEY COULD HAVE BEEN WATCHING INSTEAD.

“Being a cis white man I thought I might win over some people who otherwise wouldn't listen.”

Yeah sure. Because racist transphobes are going to be watching your badly plagiarised gay film analysis.

“I would also like to apologise to Jessie Gender, who is one of the kindest people I ever met. Through my hot-headedness, I drew her into this anger spiral.”

‘through my hotheadedness.’. shirking responsibility onto an ‘ingrained personality trait of yours’ I see.

if you are so honestly sorry for being an asshole to Jessie why don't you fucking apologise to her directly? privately? not as a way to boost your own fucking image??

he's trying to earn good will by complimenting Jessie Gender “oh he knows to compliment an awesome person we have that in common I guess he can't be so bad after all” fuck you I recognise your strategies and it's gross to drag Jessie into this like that, she spoke out against you and you are trying to imply some sort of friendship or something between you. okay I cannot UNDERSTATE the way he tries to make it seem like they are close in some way and sort of drag her onto his side that's so fucking despicable. as far as I know Jessie Gender does not have a relationship with him of any kind?

once again bringing up death threats I see. obviously death threats are shite and anyone who threatens the dude in seriousness or harasses him will not see the light of heaven as Hbomberguy said but IN AN APOLOGY YOU DO NOT MAKE IT ABOUT YOU THAT'S MANIPULATION

also blaming the police for not clarifying a situation in a timely manner - the police are a flaming pile of garbage and I hope the institution explodes but NOT SAYING ANYTHING WAS YOUR CHOICE. THE POLICE DIDN'T MAKE YOU DO SHIT THERE

the problem isn't that you tried to “create a channel where all queer people could be safe”, the problem is that 1) you are a misogynist 2) you yourself engaged in transphobic behaviour and 3) you also actively supressed queer people's voices. The problem isn't that you supposedly wanted a space for all queer people, the problem is that you tried to MONOPOLISE queer literature analysis. fuck, queer doesn't look like a word anymore I've written it too many times now

(paraphrased) “I should have been helping with making queer people's voices discoverable” this makes it seem like he just didn't do anything and not like the reality that he was actively trying to rewrite history and bury LQBTQIA+ voices under his steaming pile of garbage

also BLAMING YOUTUBE AND THE ALGORITHM FOR ‘PUSHING HIM’ because he's cis and white, like maybe they did, I certainly wouldn't be surprised, but that is not why other creators suffered, a large part of that can be attributed to James Somerton stealing their work without any acknowledgement whatsoever apart maybe if they are lucky, a “based on” in the credits or their name flashing on screen for half a second.

“I should have done more to share the voices of other queer people” THAT IMPLIES YOU DID SOMETHING. YOU WERE ACTIVELY WORKING AGAINST THAT YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT-

“it was just my dweam to be a youtubew and when my videos gained twaction i felt pwessuwed to make mowe vewy quickly and that's why they wewe so shit uwu” fuck off you weren't pressured into shit you just wanted to make money and that's why you were a content mill

“early on I thought that crediting authors in the opening credits alone was enough” what about the times YOU DIDN'T EVEN DO THAT??? YOU'RE MAKING THIS SEEM LIKE THE DRAMA IS ABOUT YOU CREDITING PEOPLE WRONG WHEN ITS ABOUT YOUR SYSTEMATIC THEFT AND OPPRESSION OF THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE VIDEOS FOR AND ABOUT AND THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE A SAFE SPACE FOR. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WATCHES YOUR VIDEOS?? WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID YOU CAN'T JUST PLAY IT DOWN

not him using Hbomberguy's example of the DEEP CUTS: SOCIETY AND QUEER HORROR video and claiming he credited all people in the opening scene when Hbomberguy highlighted he DIDNT EVEN CREDIT MOST OF THEM FUCK OFF ARE YOU DELUSIONAL HOW DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

I think I'm going insane this all seems so blatantly fake. he brings up the evil queens video and how he asked Sean Griffin, retroactively, permission to include his work in the video. and he shows a ‘screenshot’ of an email Griffin allegedly wrote to thank him for putting him in the title-card and that he thinks it is ‘a very thoughtful video’. only the text of the email header, such as Griffin's name, the RE:, and the To: is a lot smaller than the ‘text’ in the email, which leads me to believe that the below text is edited in some way. And with how hard James is trying to rewrite history, it wouldn't surprise me if he literally rewrote the email or cut things out to present himself in a more positive light. obviously I can't prove that the email is fake but I'll just say that I think the likelihood is very high that it is.

the way he says this also implies that he asked for permission after he made the video but hadn't published it yet. which is also blatantly false.

again trying to waltz off responsibility on nick, saying he was much more interested in production and implying that nick did all the writing .

“nick and I had both grown up poor so when I lost my job in 2021 (approx.) we of course were desperate and turned to producing videos even quicker and plagiarising the fuck out of all of them! but we can't help it we were both poor as kids!” fuck off, you weren't poor when plagiarising every-fucking-thing, this was in “the second year of COVID”. obviously if they really did grow up poor that sucks, and that's why we should eat the rich and redistribute their money. not plagiarise people who partly are poor or not financially cushy and manipulate thousands of people into believing you are the only queer creator.

also milking his mom's cancer. if you were really that worried about your financial situation, one would think that you would get an actual job for security and not put everything into your youtube career that is unstable, especially considering you've already done a lot of plagiarism and have no intention of stopping. “oh I plagiarised because my mom had cancer QAQ” that is so digusting to use a person's medical condition like that.

“i have memory issues because of a head injury i suffered as a child and that's why I plagiarise badly. see, I copy pasted the text with the intention to rephrase it later but forgot.” that would still be fucking plagiarism if he'd done that, also, if he's so aware of his memory issues and how they lead to him plagiarising, why didn't he try to work around that? leave himself notes? or tell nick to remind him to integrate actual proper credit and citations before uploading a video? mark the plagiarised stuff in the document with like highlighter or so when you're pasting it in?? oh but he didn't do all of that because he has ADHD. now, ADHD can be debilitating, but he says it's recently diagnosed so it must not have caused a lot of problems for him so far, so it's probably not severe and even if it is, it doesn't excuse him not crediting people properly. stop fucking hiding behind things ‘you can’t change' because if you truly can't you probably shouldn't be doing this in the first place.

“my mom really wanted me to make a movie with her life insurance but that wasn't paid out so I decided to crowdfund it. i planned to underpay the actors so hard it was under union wages. we got more money than we were expecting and upgraded to wanting to film a feature (final girl) but i didn't want to start working on it until the campaign was over for some reason that totally isn't me just wanting to exploit people for money!”

I'm not gonna go into the Telos stuff but he tries to explain it by claiming it was very unorganised and that's why they constantly ran into issues and that's why nothing ever got done and they were JUST about to start doing stuff when the Hbomberguy video released. You know what, I can believe it, although I am very doubtful considering all James ever does is lie. Idk.

once again trying to excuse his plagiarism with needing to pay two rents and thus needing to make more videos for more sponsors and not having the time to not plagiarise like please. i don't believe that they were in that dire need of money and if they were - just get a fucking stable job and put youtube on the backburner.

also once again trying to make it all about him by once again talking about his suicide attempt and death threats. like. no one should suffer through that kind of mental anguish but honestly I cannot bring myself to feel sympathy for this man. and i see this as an attempt to gather pity points.

“nick worked very hard on these videos other three years and it's unfair to [them] (james says that they're non-binary but doesn't indicate their pronouns anywhere? and in the beginning he uses they/them but later only he/him so idk what their pronouns are but it seems like they/them is at least part of their pronouns so i'm just going to use that) that they all got taken down” well y'all shouldn't have fucking plagiarised then. let this be a lesson maybe and don't fucking show your face on youtube again!

he is fucking relaunching his channel. like james. this isn't something you come back from. no one will ever be able to trust you ever again and you don't deserve an audience. he claims all the revenue will go to Hbomberguy's fund but we have no way to verify this. we have no way to know just how much he makes and how much of that is actually going to the fund. i don't trust him with any money. which is why i watched a reupload rather than the original. he's also releasing a new video he claims is entirely by him. like?????? don't???????

he also might not relaunch his existing patreon but he's still making a new one.

he claims he will “work his ass off” to make non-plagiarised videos. like that isn't “working your ass off” that's the bare fucking minimum. I really want to trust him. and I want to believe he'll actually try to do better. and maybe he will. and i believe in second chances, even for someone as despicable as him. but throughout this video he has continuously tried to play down what he did. tried to make excuses for everything. and that's why i am not going to give him a second chance. if he can't even admit what he did i don't trust him to not do it again. and i also just plainly don't want to endorse a person making such arguments.

also, he plugs his fucking new patreon right after this.

“this video is not about me promoting myself. it's about me apologising.” the only fucking person you actually ‘apologised’ to is Jessie Gender.

James Somerton: makes a billion fucking excuses. Also James Somerton: “These are not excuses. There is no excuse for what I did.”

this entire video was just a publicity stunt. he tries to humanise himself and repair his image. this is just a tool to be able to continue on and continue making money.

he also still claims the disney video was based on the Celluloid Closet and he credited the author and ignores that this wasn't the only author he fucking plagiarised in that video. he is trying to reduce his plagiarsm to incorrect crediting and mistakes and that is disgusting.

the least he could have done was mention by name out loud every author he plagiarised and what work he plagiarised. not just say “uuuh i'm sorry to everyone I plagiarised QAQ”

#james somerton #hbomberguy #james somerton a measured response #atanx.txt

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squgs · 9 months

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I've seen people responding to it being pointed out that Daemon is so obviously a worse person than Alicent or Criston by saying that "at least he isn't a hypocrite" or "at least he doesn't pretend he's better than he is." Which is perhaps accurate, but is really just saying "at least Daemon doesn't make any attempt to be a good person or voice any desire to be better."

This leads me to something I've been noticing: none of the team black characters voice or show any regret for their misdeeds while team green characters do so constantly. Daemon never apologizes or show any regret for any of the brutally evil things he does. Alicent on the other hand is constantly looking apologetic and regretful, even when she didn't do anything like in the case of Larys killing his family.

After the eye incident Alicent is extremely regretful and apologetic for her actions while Rhaenyra isn't at all. In fact Rhaenyra's response is to seek out more power through marrying Daemon so that she can more effectively hurt anyone who states an obvious truth. Her children similarly show no regret for escalating that fight, nor seem at all apologetic for having permanently disfigured Aemond.

The comparison is most striking between Criston and Daemon who have semi similar misbehavior that only Criston acknowledges in any way as bad. First in episode 5 they both smash someone's face in. Daemon's is clearly premeditated and his entire reason for being in the vale, while Criston's was planned at most ten minutes before it was carried out and was a response to an assumed attempt to blackmail him. Daemon has absolutely no shame about the murder, even going so far as to try to claim his victim's inheritance. Criston on the other hand is so ashamed that he tries to kill himself. They both also have incidents of misogynistic language. Criston calls Rhaenyra a cunt once and promptly apologizes. Daemon refers to his first wife as a 'bronze bitch' more than he uses her name and calls Alicent a whore. He does not apologize for any of those instances or show any indication that he doesn't think those are appropriate things to call a woman. Finally in episodes 8 and 9 Criston and Daemon each attack a man from behind after he insults their wife. Neither is their best moment, but again Criston is pretty clearly regretful of it, and it seems like he didn't mean to kill Beesbury and that he just forgot how fragile old people are. Daemon on the other hand clearly intended to murder Vaemond and was happy to quip about it and then chuckle when he's mentioned again.

The one sort of exception to this is Rhaenyra's toast to Alicent in episode 8. She does apologize in that scene. However, she isn't apologizing for mistreating Alicent. All she is apologizing for is not helping to take care of Viserys and not acknowledging her care taking previously, which like it definitely means something that she said that, but implicit in what she says is the idea that it's Alicent's role and duty to be taking care of him. There's kind of an implication that Rhaenyra views Alicent as having redeemed herself through serving Viserys when in reality her care taking is just another facet of Viserys's abuse, abuse that is never acknowledged or apologized for. Still I do love that scene and the way it is beautifully, pathetically, sad that Rhaenyra can only connect and forgive Alicent when she's in her subservient role and that Alicent is so desperate for connection with Rhaenyra that she will accept that barest hint of an apology even in the face of all the evidence that it's meaningless.

Now one would think that some characters regretting their misdeeds would be viewed as a sign of them being better people, but I think it actually has the opposite effect. Because the green characters are shown being regretful, their misdeeds are focused on and emphasized. In episode 5 it's possible to forget that Daemon killed his wife at the start of the episode, because it seems like he's forgotten as well. However it's impossible to forget what Criston does because his actions for the rest of the episode are all a reaction to his shame and horror about having just murdered someone. Then in the next episode when Criston has his one instance of misogyny, the entire show pauses to take note of it and wait for him to apologize (which he does!), but on the numerous occasions when Daemon is misogynistic the show breezes right past it, treating it as just a bad boy Daemon moment. Daemon's misdeeds can be enjoyed without an imediate reminder of how evil he is, letting him be a cool fun badass, while Criston's can't. You can't look at him awkwerdly and regretfully standing over Beesbury's body and say 'oh wow, such a badass male wife he really told Beesbury to keep his Wife's name out of his fucking mouth.' Though to be clear I also very much judge anyone who says that about Daemon killing Vaemond.

This is seen again in the eye incident. For most of the audience that goes into the incident not thinking that Rhaenyra is a significantly worse person than Alicent (a reasonable assumption), Alicent being extremely regretful afterwards while Rhaenyra isn't at all, is an indication that Alicent acted far worse than Rhaenyra did. A misreading that is helped by Rhaenyra's call for violence being couched in the 'sharply questioned' euphemism while Alicent's is stated outright. That is perhaps Alicent's most badass scene where she does her best to stand up to her abuser and those who allow that abuse in defense of their children, going so far as to physically fight back (though Rhaenyra perhaps wasn't the best choice of target), but the audience doesn't have any encouragement to see her badassery, instead we're to wallow in her shame at having fought back and watch her shrink back into herself with the implication that that's what she should be doing.

This pattern shows a fascinating tension between the events portrayed in the show and their framing. The show gives us two groups of people who range from very flawed to evil, but they are framed as a group of heroes and a group of villains. The greens are villains and their actions can only confirm that, while the blacks are heroes and their actions no matter how violent can only provide more evidence of heroism. I don't know how much actual meaning can be made from that tension, I wouldn't even be surprised if it was entirely accidental, but it is at the very least interesting enough to note.

#alicent hightower #criston cole #hotd #anti daemon targaryen #team green #hotd critical

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void-bitten-ghost · 4 months

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Modern Mizu hears you like a bit of 'danger and excitement' from one of your friends, so she takes you to an underground fighting ring for like, your fifth date. This is after the gun range fiasco, so you've already seen a side of Mizu that not many have been allowed to see.

When she mentions this idea you're like, so fucking excited but still kinda like??? There's one of these here????? Nearby????? Holy shit yes???? Please?????? That's so cool?????

She specifically avoids answering how she knows it exists. This isn't about her. This is about sharing an experience she loves and you've shown interest in.

She picks you up on her bike (because Of Course she would have a motorbike that's like either this hand-me-down or a fixer-upper she restored) and you go. It's exactly what you thought it would be, off vibes and dodgy people, but being with Mizu somehow makes you feel safe because she's confident. But it's not an arrogant kind of confidence, it's a steady, assured sort of confidence that puts you right at ease as she takes your hand and leads you through the crowd.

Now, something you don't know is this is not Mizu's stomping grounds. Not even close. But she knew it by name and reputation and it was close enough you could both make a night out of it rather than three. Although... she wouldn't mind if that were to happen--

She snaps back to reality when you step forward and holler out encouragement to the scrawnier one of the two currently in the ring. The corner of her mouth quirks at your enthusiasm, a brow lifting and a hip popping as she crosses her arms to just. Watch you. As you lose yourself to the energy of the room.

The match ends with the scrawny one getting his ass handed to him by the dude built like a brick shit-house. She expected as much. It takes a certain amount of skill to be able to take a mountain of a man like that down while having such a slight build. She'd know, after all.

Anyway. Everything is going swimmingly until some prick pushes his luck trying to get your attention. You very bluntly tell him he's barking up the wrong tree and he does not take the rejection well. Mizu tries to not intervene directly with your battles too often. You're a capable person, it's one of the things she lov- likes. Likes about you.

But then the burly fuck reaches for you. You smack his hand away and go to headbutt him. She grabs you by the waist before you could start the climb to reach and if you weren't so riled up you might have short circuited at the feel of her calloused hand on your skin.

"This bitch yours, mutt?" He grunts to Mizu, and you see fucking red.

"You fucking dare call her a mutt you jumped up little cun--"

"Yes," she says over you, calm as a still lake, and you do actually short circuit at Mizu calling you 'hers'. The heat of anger in you switches gears to something far sweeter, but no less scalding.

"And I would appreciate it if you didn't upset her," Mizu says, her fingers trailing to your hip and gripping a belt loop possessively. You can suddenly feel every point of contact. Hip, arm, chest...

That's when the man looks at Mizu. Really looks at her with a lean forward and squinted eyes, looking over her tinted shades.

"Onryo," he breathes, and you feel Mizu tense behind you. She hadn't heard that name for a good long while. It was a name from her troubled youth. One she thought was long behind her since going legit.

"You're a long way from home, demon."

"What of it?"

You could sense something was happening as the two spoke in what you thought was an amicable tone, but then Mizu is pulling you behind her and shedding her jacket. You take hold of it instinctively as she went to drop it on the ground and she finally turns your way.

"Everything is fine," she tells you in that same confident tone, but she must see your confusion and anxiety written on your face because she takes your chin in her hand and gives you a quick peck on the lips. You stand there with a stupid, dumbstruck look she grins at as she--

She's heading to the ring. She's heading to the middle of the ring and she's shedding another layer as she climbs over the freshold oh dear gods you don't know what to do. What to think. Holy fucking shit she's right there in a sports bra and baggy pants while wrapping her knuckles-- where did she get wrappings from?????

You're more than short circuiting at this point. You need a soft reboot. Maybe a full reboot at this rate since she's sliding off those tinted glasses and-- oh.

You see her eyes.

You've seen them before, of course. But not like this. Not with this intensity behind them. Like she's looking right through her opponent to predict every single movement his future self might consider making. That indomitable focus had you flushing with heat from head to toe as you watched, mouth parted, breaths quickening.

She floors a man twice her size and three times the bredth and your knees might give out. Are you swooning? You might just be fucking swooning holy fuck--

But then she gets gut punched and then tackled by a secret second opponent and you snap back into the whole situation.

You scream out encouragement to Mizu until your lungs feel dry, and then you scream some more. You want to be the loudest. You want Mizu to hear you and know you're rooting for her while she wipes the floor with these cheating bastards.

There's four of the fuckers now. Four all dressed in similar... you hesitate to call them uniforms. More like they all shopped at the same tec-wear store at the same time. But shit are they fast. You have the slightest moment of worry when you see the glint of metal fly past in one of their fists--

Mizu breaks thier arm with a sickening twist and a wet 'crack', and you think you might never have been so turned on in your entire fucking life.

(And also you might need to address and analyse some things about yourself later...)

The metal drops to the floor with an audible clang and a loud noise goes off somewhere. You're going to be honest, you're not really paying attention to anything else other than how Mizu moves around her opponents. Even outnumbered she holds her own, muscles coiled and yet her movements are smooth like flowing water. You can't help but think of the type that wears away cliffsides and cracks apart mountains, because that's what she's doing. She's fighting smart where they're fighting with force, and she is kicking their fucking asses--

Others converge on the ring, the crowd flooding in to hold them all down and you can't help but notice it takes five fully stacked men to hold Mizu down. And even then that only lasts about seven seconds before she breaks free, methodically picking them all off one by one before she launches herself into the now turbulent crowd.

That's when you panic, shouting for her while elbows and shoulders send you this way and that. You narrowly dodge a fist to the face before a hand grabs yours. You're ready to swing right back when you lock eyes with those sharp blues you so adore.

You both book it out, avoiding flailing limbs and thrown table legs. You've somehow still got Mizu's jacket in the crook of your arm when you both make it outside and keep running, only stopping when the sound of sirens was long, long off in the distance.

You're both curled over in a dark, dank alleyway, breaths haggard and coming out as clouds in the crisp night air.

You look up from your knees, ass pressed against the brick wall to support your wobbly legs, and you can't help but crack a grin when you see Mizu in a similar state, only just realising what the fuck just happened.

The grin breaks into a laugh when Mizu looks to you with a bright smile of her own, it's a wheezing thing at first, but then it becomes a full belly laugh when she joins you. And oh, is that such a rare sight. Mizu losing herself in a laugh and then looking at you with the most beautiful full face smile you've ever seen in your life.

Your giggles die in the face of that smile, replaced with a quiet awe and probably the dumbest looking lovesick stare--

Steps. Multiple steps approach the alley and Mizu's first and only instinct is to hide and protect you, pressing you back against the wall and covering your mouth with her hand, catching your yelp of surprise before it could really become an external sound.

And ohhhhh, what a predicament you find yourself in. Pinned to a wall by this very strong and capable and, evidentally, dangerous woman who took you out tonight to a place you would only dream of going to and protected you the entire time and then caused a room wide fight to break out that she was, up until that point, winning--

Ohhhh my phone is currently dying a death imma have to post and carry on later because my brain is a bastard that way 🙃

#modern mizu #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu x y/n #underground fighter mizu #I WROTE SOMETHING #HAHA! TAKE THAT BRAIN BLOCK!#HOPE YOU ENJOY #tw fighting #tw violence #but i mean #its bes #eitger way better safe than sorry #fem reader #ish

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cherry-pop-elf · 2 months

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George Weasley Sexcanons

Because im extremely sick, so im bored

Warnings? Sex sex sex and more sex. Along with some submissive Georgie baby~

What gets his engine going

He’s more of the submissive type. Your definition of a service top. He loves to make sure his partner is feeling so good. Their comfort comes, heh, first before anything else. Mans has 100% just gotten off from eating out/rimming/sucking off

He’s….Hes got mommy issues. As much as we love Molly, you can not deny she was rather verbally abusive. Not to mention having seven kids means you’ll Never have one on one properly. I won’t rant, but mans got a serious mommy kink. Doesn’t matter if you are a man, he’s calling you mommy!

Is a sucker for risk taking. He’s gonna try and eat you out at a quidditch game, jerk you off at the leaky cauldron, he’s gonna rail you in an alley way. He’s an adrenaline junkie, and probably wouldn’t be to shy at the idea of actually doing it infront of people. He likes the rush of it all

If you get a tattoo with his name, or some kind of indication you are his? Oh that’s going to make him feral. He doesn’t actually believe in owning and such, but there is something so enjoyable about it in fantasy. Kink doesn’t equal reality! ((And obviously I don’t need to clarify what is off the table))

Let me say this once, mans has a MAJOR Breeding Kink. Doesn’t matter if you can get pregnant. He’s going to find a way to fuck a baby into you. He’s a Weasley. They love to prove the impossible

Like I said about mommy kink, he is so gonna be a brat. It’s not a number one go to, that’s Fred, but he loves being a menace to society. If he’s not being a brat, you calling him a bad boy might make him cry. That’s why it’s healthy to communicate in the bed room!

Spank him. Spank him nice and good.

Lingerie lingerie lingerie

He might be a size queen, but you didn’t hear it from me 🤭

Oh he just loves doing it in his office. There is something so hot about it. To have you sit in his office, as he eats you out. How you would pin him on the desk, and pound him so hard it starts to rattle. To have you casually come in, wearing nothing at all, and crawling over all the paper work to get to him. If he’s having a bad day, sneak into his office and remind him he’s the boss

Don’t think you won’t be shared with Fred. They are magical twins. They share everything together.

Don’t be shy of your body hair. He likes his bitches natural. There’s also something so romantic to him about it. That you can just be your truest self around him, and not need to panic about your looks. Just your true self, and such

Speaking of natural self, he likes his bitches a little thicc. Blame his dad for liking em big. Nothing like some love handles to grab onto, or some ear warmers to keep him trapped in place. But most importantly? The cuddles

Expect to be of ‘use’ during busy hours at work. Like sucking him off while he does paper work, or being stress relief after a Karen comes into town

Boobs? Butt? Mans a thigh guy. He loves himself a partner with thick thighs, long legs, and some well pedicured feet. Yes. He’s a feet guy. Thigh highs in orange will make him cream alright

Expect to be his partner in trying new sex shop items

Speaking of that, don’t be scared to try new things with him. You never know. Maybe your weird kink could be the next hottest item the shop!

AFAB Partner Shenanigans

His favorite position with you would be the mating press. He just loves having your legs over his shoulders, and getting a front row seat at your begging face

He is going to be that type to fill you full of cum, and make you walk around with it

Sundresses baby

Peg him silly boo boo. He will ride that strap on until sunrise don’t even question it

Expect lots of cock warming. Especially when busy at work

Your tits are his now. His favorite thing to play with, when it isn’t your pussy. Even not in a sexual sense. You’ll just wake up with a hand on the tibbie

AMAB Partner Shenanigans

His favorite position is cowgirl. To have his hands on your chest, as he pants. Whimpering and moaning, as you move in and out of him. To have you spank him to move faster. Gets him all kinds of work up

He’s gonna be a shit head and sneak under tables a lot and have his fun with you

You will wake up to him dealing with your morning wood

He is going to sit on your cock when he is doing work. He will be a bastard and spin his hips

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sciderman · 3 months

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Gwen Stacy was 100 gazillion percent not dead before Peter’s web reached her??? What killed her while she fell? THE AIR????

and here begins one of the more hotly debated topics in spider-man comics canon - what killed gwen stacy?

(i could make a video essay about this)

goblin says that the shock of the fall alone is enough to kill her

and honestly, i don't think that sounds fake. like i mean, i've never been thrown off a bridge before but like, the shock of that could probably kill me. i don't think that's fake at all. i'd have a fucking heart attack mid-air. yeah.

but there is the pointed. snap.

so, really, regardless of whether gwen was already dead or not, the snap is a reality. if she was alive or dead, it doesn't matter, so if the shock of the fall didn't kill her, the snap would've.

i kind of don't know why norman would say she was dead before the webbing reached her. it seems more in norman's diabolical brand to double down and tell peter that his webbing IS what killed gwen. but i think maybe this is another case of the writers and artists not being on the same page - same as how it's described as the george washington bridge

but the artists didn't get the memo. that bitch is not the george washington bridge.

that bitch is the brooklyn bridge!!

headcanon that i guess in 616 the brooklyn bridge is called the george washington bridge. sure. why not.

i figure the gwen "snap!" thing is another instance of the writers and artists just being on distinctly different pages. there's this very funny workflow in comics where they kind of give the artist a rough outline of the plot and the final dialogue isn't actually written until the comic is pencilled so there's always, always miscommunications between the writers and artists. where the artist draws the brooklyn bridge but the writer thinks it would be fun if actually it was the george washington bridge after the fact because get it. norman loves money. but in the synopsis it didn't actually matter what bridge it was so the artist just drew whatever the fuck bridge!!

so. i think it's the same with the snap. in the synopsis it probably says "gwen dies in the fall" - artist interprets it as whiplash, and draws it so. writer has the idea that actually, it's the shock that kills her. synopsis says "dies in the fall" and it doesn't actually matter how. point is she dies! however the fuck!

i'm honestly so obsessed with the running gag in spider-man comics where you know the writers and artists are on different pages. in two separate rooms doing two separate things. rereading the comics is so funny when you know that weird workflow and you see a scene where the art is saying one thing and the words are saying another. almost like a 4kids dub.

that's why you get such great moments such as the panel that has caused the most outrage in my activity feed. the brown/blue pants debate.

HIS PANTS ARE BLUE!!

#sci talks comics #gwen stacy #peter parker #spiderman #sorry about the infodump but i am so passionate about this.#the incongruence between visuals and writing in comics is so so so funny to me. i want to make these jokes but i know people wont get it #jokes that are only funny.. to me.#i want to make intentional artist errors faithful to the comics but people will just think they're mistakes . but i will be laughing #it is doubly funny to say “oh its a miscommunication between writer and artist” because i am the writer AND artist.#jokes that are funny.. only to Me...

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sunandflame · 10 months

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Hey there :) I hope you’re having a great day :) if it’s okay please could I request a fic of muzan. Where the reader comes from a troubled family, and she’s always kind to muzan every time he comes through town and he’s very fond of her but one day when he visits he finds her on the brink of death so he turns her into a demon and she quickly becomes an upper moon. I hope this isn’t too much information 💙💙

Hi there! I actually never ever wrote something for Muzan, but I do like challenges! And there is never too much information. I hope it's the way you want it and please let me know if not, since I am always looking for a way to improve myself ❤️

Beguiling voice

Warnings: angst, violence, ra.pe attempt

Word Count: 966

Pairing: Muzan x Fem!Reader

Again you had to dry your tears and hide it behind a mask of smiles. Again you had to hide the bruises under your kimono and had to act like nothing happened. It was embarrassing and it became a habit to tug at the sleeve of your own kimono, so nobody saw the evidence of your troubled household. And yet you smiled, remained friendly, because that was your nature. You believed in the good of people even though it's been faltering lately.

You bowed to the pale man in the western suit and white fedora, gave him your friendliest smile. You often saw him here in the tea house and even if he didn't really order anything, you always tried to have a conversation with him as his voice was so beguiling to you and it was always a friendly exchange. He too seemed to be enjoying the conversations. That's how it seemed. Because if it hadn't been like that, he wouldn't be showing up again and again, right? He wasn't always there but as soon he was in the town, he made sure to visit you at least once. His soothing voice and manner were always a blessing on your battered soul and there were often times when you sought for the simplicity in your conversations. He was even in your daydreams when you tried to escape the unpleasant moments with your family. It was your escape of the reality, but the reality can hit hard.

You already had a queasy feeling since you made your way home from work. It was much later than expected and you quickly hurried to get back into your own four walls. You just wanted to be home as soon as possible, but that was denied to you.

With a jerk you were grabbed from behind and pulled into a dark alley and before you even knew what was happening to you your head banged against the wall and you lost consciousness for a moment and something wet flowed down your neck. You heard several male voices

"Fuck, she doesn't have anything valuable on her! Not even worth to rob her."

"Just leave the bitch here"

"Are you sure we shouldn't even have some fun with her? She's quite the beauty, isn't she?"

You opened your eyes in shock and began to whimper and fight. If they try something on you, they shouldn't have it easy at least. You clawed, bit and kicked around, but it only seemed to make the attackers more aggressive until eventually they got tired and just kicked you to the ground. Your consciousness wavered between fainting and trying to suppress the pain.

At some point the pain stopped and you knew that it was not only because they stopped kicking you and went away, but because you felt that you were close to death. It really was like most people said. The pain was gone for the moment and the good memories will flash in front of your eyes. Only that they weren't memories of your family, just the ones you shared with this beautiful pale stranger with the fedora.

You felt movement and someone was gently rocking you in their arms. "Drink this..." A bitter tear ran down your blemished face. You didn't want him to see you like this and yet you were overjoyed in your inner that he was the one to keep you company in your final minutes. You allowed yourself to nuzzle yourself to him or was it him who held you tighter? You couldn't tell "Y/n, drink that" This time the voice was more demanding, not allowing you to resist even as you lay dying.

With your last strength you drank what he gave you and the peaceful death you wished for was undone. Agony tortured you and you twitched in his arms, but he had been so strong that he still had no trouble holding you. Your fingers dug into his shoulder, leaving marks on his perfect jacket. You didn't know what was happening to you, but you knew there was a change and suddenly everything went black around you.

It's been some time, but it was relative for you anyway. You had become a different person. No longer a human, but you were a Demon now. And you became one of the Upper Moon Six after Gyutaro and Daki fell victim to the Demon Slayer Corps. But that wasn't the main cause. Muzan was fond of you and your strength and he regularly enriched you with his potent blood. He wanted to see you strong at his side and in his inner circle. But even so, you had shown an outstanding strength that put a smile on Muzan.

"Y/n..." His beguiling voice reached you as he brought you into the infinity castle.

"Yes, my lord..." Immediately you were on your knees to demonstrate your devotion. You didn't remember your previous life or how you came to 'death'. You knew you owed everything to him. And his voice was always something that caused a pleasant tingle in you. You knew you owed everything to him.

"Come here my beautiful." He gave you his hand and asked you to stand up. His cool hand stroked your cheek and an inner longing spread through you. If only he... You didn't finish the sentence in your head, his lips were on yours, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip while he looked down at you with his red plum eyes. "I thought I would show you how fond I am actually of you... My dear y/n" His fingers rested on your chin as he stole another kiss from you and even if it took you by surprise, you were not complaining as it was exactly what you always wished for.

#divider by firefly-graphics #sunnys work #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny fanfic #demon slayer drabble #kimetsu no yaiba drabble #kny drabble #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji #kibutsuji muzan #muzan kibutsuji x you #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji x y/n

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sunshine-jesse · 3 months

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In defense of Andrew Graves: Facing Yourself

Alt title: Andrew Graves: The Will to Plow Her

I think my analysis of Andrew is one of the best essays I've written so far. But since then, I think I've expanded my understanding of his character in a way that urges me to add on to my prior essay. What I intend on doing is further fleshing out my reading of Burial, and going deeper in detail on why I think Decay ends up panning out the way it does. This essay will end up sharing a lot of text with my prior one, but will add enough scattered throughout that I think it merits a complete reread instead of just scrolling down and seeing what's new.

I've focused a lot on Ashley in my past writings. She's my favorite character in the story (and depending on how episode 3 pans out, maybe ever) and I'm pretty mortified by how some parts of the fandom have reacted towards her, so I pretty much made it my life's mission to push back against that. From highlighting the ways Andrew mistreats her, to coming up with justifications for her behavior that aren't just being a manipulative bitch, I really wanted to prove that a more favorable picture of her could be painted than most were willing to.

But in doing so, I've left Andrew in the dust.

In highlighting his flaws and the ways he mistreats Ashley, I think I've implied a level of intentionality to his actions that I don't believe he has. When I say that Ashley did nothing wrong, it's in direct response to the idea that she holds the most responsibility and agency in how their dynamic plays out, when in reality, I believe she has very little. Most of her actions in-story are in reaction to a variety of stimuli that come directly from Andrew, that he has control over and are aware of how Ashley feels about. His refusal to use clear and direct language to deny her most toxic tendencies causes her more and more stress as time goes on, and instead of giving her clear answers he opts to be catty, passive-aggressive, or, at his worst, threatening. Never direct and never clear, except when establishing boundaries over his name after the choking scene. Andrew fails to help Ashley be better in some frankly depressing ways throughout the whole story, especially in their childhoods, so we never get to see where she'd fall short if given a better influence.

...

Kind of. More on that later!

In mentioning his thing about preferring to be called Andrew instead of Andy, I also implicitly mention one of the places where Ashley falls short in their dynamic and could stand to do better: recognition.

This scene says a lot. It's the most heartbreaking scene in the game, if you ask me, and probably the single most profound and well-written moment in the entire story. I could write a whole 2000 word essay on it alone, but I've already said most of what I have to say about it through what I've said in other essays, so I'll spare you all that. Instead, I'll use it to highlight something:

"I had fun."

Their dysfunction is fun to her. She's so used to abuse and alienation that even the most awful, stressful (as far as we know) route of the game is still fun to her. And that's not a sign of her being a secret evil sociopath or whatever; that's actually not abnormal behavior to develop for a lifelong victim of abuse. Those highs and lows, those strong emotional highs and lows are -addicting-. They're -fun.- Part of why abuse victims get into so many abusive relationships is because it's easy to pick up on those patterns of thought and take advantage of them, and the cycle of abuse is often furthered when a victim of abuse tries to draw out mutually abusive behaviors in someone with no interest in having that kind of dynamic.

This is where I'm willing to acknowledge Ashley's manipulative tendencies. Not just as a matter of controlling Andrew for its own sake, purely out of jealousy or possessiveness, but as a matter of trying to further the only dynamic she's ever known in her life. Better the devil you know, right?

That push and pull- that emotional rollercoaster- is all many of us know. And it's all Ashley knows. This dynamic is something she's so used to that she reacts incredibly harshly to any attempt to change it, because she doesn't know that things can be better. Because of this, she refuses to engage with who Andrew really is, and tells herself- and him- that she *hates* Andrew:

This scene is almost as heartbreaking as the above one in a lot of ways.

Andrew putting his foot down about the Andy/Andrew name dichotomy wasn't arbitrary and it wasn't just about his comfort. It was about Andrew giving a clear indication about what needs to happen for their relationship to improve. He's recognizing the cycle between them and wants to put a stop to it, because he's confident that things between them CAN get better and evolve into something healthier. Ashley, not understanding that their dynamic can get better, because their "fun" little push and pull of abuse is all she knows, rejects that. She rejects the unknown, and says- in Andrew's mind at least- that she'll never accept that new dynamic, nor will she accept who he really is.

Ouch. No wonder he looks so sad in that screenshot.

They have a conflict of understanding here, and I think it's fair to pin most of the responsibility on Ashley. Andrew was clear in what he wanted, and Ashley just... Didn't. She didn't see the importance of it ("...whatever that means in practice") and didn't really ask. This gap in communication, perfectly displayed in this scene, is likely what causes the Decay ending. He wants things to be better, and wants to treat Ashley better, and whether or not he understands the ways in which she communicates with him is in part what determines what he sees her as.

But there's a lot of evidence that he always wanted things to be better, that he always wanted to treat her better. But external factors have made it very, very difficult, and I think there are two key points in which he started to shed the importance of those external factors and seek that better relationship, both of which happening in the apartment: The killing of the warden and the 302 lady. In the first case, he was forced to do it to protect Ashley in a way he hadn't done before, or depending on how you look at it, since the death of Nina. But the intentionality was the key point here. After this point, he calls Ashley Leyley, which may or may not seem important at this point, but it's something I'll draw attention to later, so keep that in mind.

Next is the killing of the 302 lady, which is the much, much bigger point. We don't learn much about it until later on- as at first he just gives an excuse about the nail gun that doesn't line up with what we see on the map- but during the dream, it's revealed it was a calculated, intentional killing that he did to make sure there was no evidence left behind, and because Ashley (supposedly) would've wanted him to do it anyway. I say supposedly because Ashley herself doesn't seem to ever want Andrew to kill for her past Nina's death, because he only ever kills for her to defend one or both of them. If you want more evidence that violence for violence's sake isn't something she wants, look at this part in the final dream:

A knife isn't what opens the door, despite it being placed on the ground in that very map. While it seems obvious that the knife (violence) would be the key to solving the puzzle, it's put there explicitly to show you that it isn't. It's not what she wants; what she wants is a flower.

So, why is this important? Why am I centering Ashley- again- when this essay is supposed to be about Andrew?

It's because these two killings are when Andrew's self-delusion over who he really is starts to break down. It's still there, mind, as he still relies upon Ashley as an excuse to justify it, but, as well as what I've said before, the name ultimatum is an implicit confession that the normalcy he finds comfort in is starting to lose its grasp on him. There's a lot that's been said about Andy being something close to a "moral impulse" for Andrew, given his child self's reaction to Nina's death being the only thing he does that approximates a normal moral response to his and Ashley's actions, but if you do think that- which I think is a reasonable thing to think even if I don't necessarily agree- there's something you must also keep in mind:

-He- is the one who doesn't want to be called that anymore. -He- is the one who wants to let that moral impulse go, and Ashley is the one making it difficult.

That reading is assuming that Andy is a moral impulse, which I think is... either wrong or too simplistic. Every time I see that reading, it's from someone who's trying to paint him too sympathetically and absolve him of most moral responsibility. I also find it infantilizing to equate morality with childhood in such a way? But that's another tangent that I didn't sign up to talk about. What I do think, however, is that it's a useful framing device to display his own relationship with morality; the allegory to his child self doesn't have to be there for the general pattern to exist.

When Ashley starts to grill Andrew over the killing of the 302 lady, he gets mad. Very mad. Ashley sees it as pointless, as him covering his own ass, but he genuinely did it for her sake, because he thought that's what she wanted, and that it'd make her happy. But what makes her happy isn't violence- or any similarly extreme action for that matter- it's attention and validation. Something he's always reluctant to give her, despite the fact that he always chose her over the alternatives. But despite making that choice, it's always empty and meaningless, because in Ashley's mind, he never did it for her sake.

And hoo boy, does he not like it being framed like this.

He is perfectly willing to do whatever it takes to keep them happy and safe... but only for her sake. It has to be for her sake. He still needs that traditional role, and he still needs to have a narrative in which he's the good guy- a protector. Because it can't be for his sake. It can't be because that's what he wants. He has to uphold that romantic (in the literary tradition sense) ideal. His darkly romantic idealistic streak colors many of his actions and beliefs. This is most plainly visible in his quip about a double suicide being romantic, but it's also visible within the symbolism present within his dream, such as how he can only pave his own path in blood unless Ashley lights the way. It's visible within his appreciation for poetry, and it's visible with how the cultist within the dream speaks in Shakespearean English.

But the transient nature of this ideal is also revealed within this dream, because there's never a cohesive, guided path, even with Ashley there to light it up. Contrary to Ashley's dream, where you literally have maps showing you where to go, Andrew's dream has many more dead ends and no map to guide him. The symbolic role he acts out gives him no clarity, and there's no overarching narrative; merely a bunch of disconnected symbols.

This is contrasted with Ashley's dream, which has narratives so clear that the story literally gives the dream an episode title.

In a sense, he wants to view himself as an actor acting out a role in a story. He wants his life to be poetic, to represent something greater, and to have a cohesive narrative. This is why he's so disconnected from his true desires: He's more concerned with acting as a representative of an ideal than a person with agency. But every time the mask drops, every time he stops acting, his true self becomes visible. He naturally settles into being comfortable around Ashley, in treating her with warmth and kindness, and their banter becomes much less toxic. As intent as he is on acting out his role, it does nothing for him, and as his dream sequence shows, it doesn't even form a cohesive narrative, because he can't act one out. It's too contrary to who he really is, and what he really wants. But that idealization doesn't just apply to himself, it also applies to Ashley. Specifically, who Ashley is, vs who he wants her to be.

In his unique dream sequence, he sees two versions of Ashley; the child version of her- Leyley- and the adult version of her- Ashley. And the differences in the ways he interacts with the two of them are stunning. Leyley is an obstinate, annoying child. She's the one he NEEDS to take care of, and he hates that. He hates Leyley for what she did for his childhood. He hates that he needs to provide for her. He has the option of trying to kill her, even, over something as small as a candle!

But in the room with all the murders, the gilded cage, he sees Ashley as an adult. This version of Ashley is stuck in a closet that he himself has to open- and to choose to see. Their interactions are calm and friendly. She teases him a bit, sure, but she's still helpful, and they have fun together. He doesn't need her, and she doesn't need him. He needed Leyley- needed the candle- but here, there are other limbs strewn about for him to take. And, crucially, he doesn't even have the option to kill this Ashley for one of the limbs.

And during the choking scene, he lets her go the moment she acknowledges that he doesn't need her anymore. This is the first time we know of that he seems comfortable enough to set a clear boundary, which is acknowledging that their prior dynamic is dead and that they're now Andrew and Ashley, not Andy and Leyley. It's a bit late to express a clear boundary -after- literally acting like he was going to kill someone, but it's the first time we know of that he sets a clear standard for what, in his mind, would improve his relationship with Ashley.

After all, what he wants is to want her, not need her. He wants Ashley for Ashley's sake. Not for what she can provide him. He doesn't even need her for sleep, he just wants her. But Ashley has trouble acknowledging this, because he's never before shown that WANT. Only a NEED. She keeps trying to find ways to make him need her, because she's never seen what his desire for her is really like. She's only ever seen him desiring someone else, someone other than her.

She's only ever seen him as Andy, because she's never truly seen Andrew, only the violence he can inflict on others. But Andrew can see both:

He can see Leyley, the needy, bratty child who always needs his attention, that he needs to provide for. The one he hates and wants to get rid of. The one he kills for to protect.

And he can see Ashley, the one who engages in friendly and cute banter with him. Who comforts and shows him physical affection. The one he loves. The one he kills for to make happy.

He just can't choose which one he wants to see. Every outside influence- from his parents, to Julia, to Nina- makes him see her as Leyley. Ashley herself makes him see her as Leyley too, whenever she brings up all the things he did for her, and calls him Andy, his child self, instead of Andrew, his current self. And as long as he sees that child, he feels like one too, and can never give Ashley anything that comes from the heart.

But he really, really wants to see Ashley as an adult. He wants to take pride in her, how much she's grown, and how driven and competent she really is.

But god damn, does that bitch ever make it hard, because there IS no real difference between Ashley and Leyley. She's grown and changed over time, taking more adult (and stereotypically feminine) responsibility upon herself, but the fact that her temperament and personality hasn't changed much obfuscates that growth. When you talk to Ashley in the closet during the dream after getting the limb, Andrew asks Ashley to come out of the closet, but she refuses to come out because he won't invite Leyley over to play, which is a pretty strong metaphor for how he interfaces with different aspects of Ashley's personality and refuses to accept others. But the reality is that he needs to accept both, or rather, see her whole self as Ashley, rather than just the parts he likes.

In the end, it's him who has to make the choice how to see her. Ashley can only see what she's been shown, but Andrew can choose.

And in the basement scene, he makes that choice.

If Ashley refuses to leave him alone with their parents, that's it. In one of the most critical and important moments of his life, she couldn't give him the space needed to make up his own mind. She couldn't treat him as an adult. She couldn't see him as Andrew. If she does give him that choice, she chooses to acknowledge that Andrew is an adult who can be trusted to make his own decisions, even though she (perhaps foolishly) believes that this choice lines up with her own interests. And frankly it does either way, but in accepting their mom's offer, her chooses to see her as Leyley once and for all. He chooses not to reciprocate what Ashley showed him. He does it because he needs to, not because he wants to. Because it's his duty, not his desire.

This is what results in the Decay ending. Through his inability to see Ashley as an adult, he surrenders his agency and views all of his actions as an extension of his responsibilities, his role, which he no longer wishes to uphold. He dissociates fully from who he really is, acting in accordance with that disconnected, barely-cohesive narrative that exists only within his mind. The game starts to resemble the heartwrenching tragedy that many seem to take for granted that it is, as their dynamic fully doubles down on its painful toxicity. And, in an example of a poetic book end, Ashley's dream shows a double suicide, closing the book on their tragic tale.

It's tragic. It's heartwrenching. It's poetic. It's beautiful.

...Except it's not. Not at all.

It's actually fucking stupid, pointless, and brutal, and Burial shows us that. When we view their spiral as beautiful, we project the same darkly romantic ideal that Andrew possesses onto the story.

But the actual reality is horrifying.

Ashley spends most of Decay terrified of Andrew, the one person she found comfort in. He acts cold, distant, and aggressive towards her, showing pointless cruelty instead of any warmth. All she wants is comfort; all she wants is to not die. She doesn't want to engage in this death spiral at all, and, in her dream sequence, shows none of the same willingness to die alongside Andrew that Andrew does with her. The moment we stop focusing on the end of the Decay dream sequence, which has very striking imagery, and if you choose not to shoot, one of the most beautiful scenes in the game, we can see it for what it really is:

A scared animal running away from a predator.

The moment you see Decay through Ashley's eyes, and not the perspective of some romantic ideal, Decay becomes terrifying, tense, and painful. There is no catharsis to be had in this tragedy. It's easily avoidable as long as Andrew chooses to engage with reality, and not the empty promises of his mother and incoherent narrative of his ideal.

Finding beauty and meaning in tragedy is how we cope with the harshness of reality. But there is no coherent narrative to the tragedies we experience, just like there's no coherent narrative to the ideal Andrew wishes to uphold. It's something we create- that he creates- but it's not something that actually exists.

And when Andrew casts aside his desire for that ideal, and the responsibilities it shackles him to, it grants him clarity that he never had before. He sees the world for how it really is, and acknowledges that nobody- the least of which their mother- is as different from Ashley as they pretend to be.

They're no better than her, and he's tired of people pretending that they are. People are all the same, no matter what ideals they try to uphold and represent. They still sacrifice others in the name of advancing themselves, still punch down whenever they can, and still lay blame on those beneath them rather than try to take control of their lives. They just use those ideals to justify themselves, but Ashley, and now Andrew, reject even the need for that justification.

This is why I believe the story is nihilistic. Not in that it asserts the inherent meaninglessness of life, but in that it grapples with the ideals we uphold and how they obfuscate the reality of the world we live in. The story, intentionally or not, highlights how ideals are often but a pretense we use to justify what we were likely going to do regardless, and how holding to them too strongly can lead to our ruin- and how monstrous they make us look to those who do not share them.

Consequently, this is how I view the part of the fanbase who thinks Decay is a good ending.

(the characters themselves represent existentialism rather than nihilism but i couldn't really fit that analysis in here without it feeling forced so i might cover that another time)

From that point on, their relationship becomes a lot more friendly, lighthearted, and playful. They ironically start acting more like children, but to quote CS Lewis:

"Critics who treat adult as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence."

He's not ashamed of being playful with Ashley, or showing affection towards her. He's grown up. He finally sees her, and himself, as an adult- although he still doesn't show that in full until much later on (more or that later). But in Decay, he still sees her as a child, and to an extent, probably himself. Let's compare the ways in which he reacts to being called Andy. In Decay, he lashes out at Ashley and gets angry, even threatening her. But in Questionable Burial, he calmly says that Andy is dead and doesn't need Ashley's comfort, but still tries to reassure her that she's still needed. He's not ashamed of or hostile towards their prior dynamic, because he's grown past it. He still acknowledges Ashley's need to feel needed, but here, he recognizes its importance to her, whereas he was hostile towards it before.

It's a display of respect towards her feelings.

This interaction doesn't happen in the Sane ending, however. He doesn't play games with her and is just a lot less fun to be around all together. Why is that? Because he still hasn't yet shaken viewing Ashley as Leyley there. He still views her as a burden, as someone who needs taking care of. He's calmly accepted that, too, mind you, but he lacks respect for her because she's still a child, in his mind. But in Questionable?

The vision did more than just make him extremely embarrassed and lay his deepest desires bare. It forced him to recognize Ashley as an adult. When choosing between "Never" and "Never say never," if Never is chosen, the burden of thought is lifted off of him. But if Ashley chooses "Never say never!", he has to reckon with the fact that Ashley is an adult, someone who can consent to those kinds of things. Someone who MIGHT. Someone who has agency, and can make her own decisions. And more importantly… someone who can trust him to make his own.

Whether he desires sex or not is secondary; he's always had those feelings and has always been ashamed of them. But now that the part of him where that shame came from is dead and buried, there's no childish impulse to grow up. There's no attachment to the hate and bitterness he had before. Look at what he worries about when he picks up that she's uncertain or confused about who he is now:

It's her feelings.

He wants to be fun to be around. He wants to make Ashley happy. He loves her, and not as a romantic interest or even as a sibling. He loves her independent of all that baggage.

He loves her as a person.

Their relationship runs contrary to societal ideals in some pretty huge ways. So contrary, in fact, that it's hard for some to accept it as anything good, that it can ever be best for the people involved. It's incestuous. It involves them killing and eating their parents. It involves them distancing themselves so much from society that it's hard to believe they'll ever fit in it again. It's chaotic, it's messy, it's codependent, and maybe even toxic. And yet, here they are. They're coexisting. They're happy. They're healing. They're navigating the world in the only way they can: together.

Meanwhile, in Decay, Andrew refuses to allow himself to get closer to Ashley. He surrenders all agency to her, buys into his own narrative, drinks his own Kool-Aid, and may or may not condemn one or both of them to death in the process. Like it or not, the only path where Andrew takes ownership of his life is the one where he's closest to his sister. It's the one where he decides where they will go next, the one where he decides his own feelings matter, and acts in accordance with what he wants instead of how he thinks he should act.

His agency, his freedom, and his growth don't happen in spite of his codependency; they're happen because of it. They can't grow alone. They can't heal alone.

In reading the story, one must interrogate how important those societal ideals are in the face of the realities of what makes people happy. Are those ideals worth upholding in spite of this? Can we really allow people to fall through the cracks in the name of social norms? Can we blame people for taking rash actions when the social contract has failed them?

Or are we so blinded by those ideals that we can't see that people can be happy while blatantly disregarding them?

All I know is that in Burial, Andrew, having cast aside normalcy, now appears to be truly happy for the first time in his life.

Who are we to take that from him?

#the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #ashley graves #tcoaal #gaming #gravecest #tcoaal essay

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 year

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Dress Code | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! this is a repost because some bitch ass reported my original posting of this fic 🙄

warnings: asshole exes, anxiety, some alcohol

You didn’t hear Bucky call out for you. He tried once, twice, to get your attention, but failed. Only when appeared behind you in the bathroom mirror did you notice his presence. You jumped, silently cursing the winter soldier training that made him so stealthy. And while you always loved to spend time with him, you hadn’t intended to show him your outfit. You didn’t even know why you tried it on. It sat at the back of your closet for almost a year and a half, ignored.

But Bucky’s unannounced presence put you in a difficult position. It was too late- he’d seen the outfit never meant for his view.

“Oh, wow…” his voice pulled you back to reality. A long moment passed as he raked his gaze slowly over your form in the mirror. “You look incredible.” His mouth nearly watered at the sight of you in such an out of character ensemble. Black, tight, revealing. It gave away just enough without revealing everything, teasing Bucky with what remained concealed.

You gave him a sheepish smile in the mirror, not ready to face him for real. “Oh, um, thanks, babe… you like it?”

He gave a nod so vehement that you feared he’d get whiplash. “We might not even make it to the party…” He shot you a devilish wink that made your chest tighten. “I’ll tell Nat you looked too delicious for me to share you- I’m sure she’ll understand.”

A shy laugh made its way out of your mouth as you picked at your cuticles. You’d done your nails just for tonight, but suddenly had the urge to peel the polish right off. “Um, I actually might change, though- I’m not sure. But I swear I’ll be ready soon.”

Bucky placed his hands on your hips and gently turned you toward him, placing a light kiss to your glossed lips. “No rush, doll. I just came in here to ask- what kind of wine does Nat drink? Sam wants to get her a bottle, but he wasn’t sure what she likes.” His fingers trailed up and down your sides as a mischievous smile pricked at the corners of his mouth. “I just got distracted by the absolute goddess standing in front of me…”

A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks. “She um, she likes reds. Cab is her favorite, but she’ll drink merlot.”

He granted you another chaste kiss. Bucky had experienced a lot of hardship in his life, endured more torment than anyone could imagine. But keeping his hunger for you under control proved to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. And when he pulled away from your lips, he only managed to drag his eyes away from you long enough to reply to Sam’s text.

As Bucky typed, you faced the mirror once again. You had to admit- you did look amazing. But you still feared leaving the apartment in such an outfit. Maybe you’d keep it relegated to the bedroom, allowing Bucky- and only Bucky - to see it.

“Are you sure…” you said, your voice timid. “Is it okay if I wear this?”

Bucky gave you a laugh and rested his hands on your hips. “Well, I’m not the best person to ask for fashion advice, cause I mostly wear black on black. On black,” he gestured to his monochromatic outfit. “But you look amazing. So, I say go for it, doll.”

Bucky’s praise warmed your cheeks once again, but you remained conflicted. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! You know how causal Nat is- the last place you’d find a dress code is at one of her parties.” He pressed his chest to your back and dropped a few kisses along your neck. “In fact, she might even try to steal you away from me.”

You gave Bucky a roll of your eyes and contemplated your options. Sure, you could slip into a pair of jeans and a cute top like always, but something in you wanted to pull out a new look. Something fun. And this dress was the perfect choice. Bucky clearly though you looked like a knockout, and you loved the way the fabric hugged your body. No event was more perfect for this dress than one of Nat’s parties- it was meant to be.

“Well, in that case, I’m ready to go.” You took Bucky by the hand and led him out of the bathroom, more confident than ever. But the seed of doubt you’d planted earlier began blossoming into full on worry. And before you even made it out the bedroom door, you found yourself doubling back.

“Oh, actually- I’m gonna grab a jacket real quick.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “are you sure? It’s pretty warm tonight, sweets, and this is an outdoor shindig.”

You gave an overly casual shrug, “yeah. Just in case- never know when you’ll need it.”

The night went off without a hitch. You spent hours sipping on elderflower & pear seltzers and laughing with your closest friends. Compliment after compliment flew your way- everyone loved your look. Red wine flowed and music pounded. And like a group of schoolchildren, the party quickly separated into a group of guys and a group of women. You spent your evening with Nat, Maria, Wanda, and the rest of the girls while Sam, Clint, Scott and a few other guys stood near the bar.

But Bucky blurred the line. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, couldn’t resist you in the slightest. Every twenty minutes or so, he felt compelled to pay you a visit. He was drawn to you with no hope of resisting- not that he ever wanted to.

Observing you from afar just wasn’t good enough. He needed to be up close and personal; close enough to smell your perfume, to taste the wine on your lips. He never wanted to impede on your time with Nat and the other girls, but you were just too mesmerizing. It almost seemed as though he were a sailor, and you, his siren. And if you led him to his death with your tantalizing, magnetic song, he wouldn’t mind.

And though you appeared to have a great time, Bucky clocked a slight tension. A stiffness in your shoulders. A rigidity in your jaw. It wasn’t constant. But it was there. And Bucky wondered what had you so uncomfortable. He kept an eye out for outsiders and made sure your drinks were safe- nothing felt out of the ordinary.

And as he escorted you to his car after the night’s festivities came to an end, you didn’t bring it up. You didn’t mention a creepy stranger or an off-color comment from Sharon. Only positives spilled from your wine-stained lips.

When you finally arrived home, Bucky opened the door to the apartment and guided you inside. The alcohol was on top of you, and he didn’t fully trust your teetering steps. The last thing he wanted was for you to twist your ankle.

“I’m ready to not be walking on knives…” you said- or, slurred. You rocked side to side, the effects of the alcohol pushing you off balance as you tried to escape your heels.

“Here, let me, baby …” Bucky steadied your body against a wall before kneeling in front of you.

He carefully unbuckled one heel at a time, and slipped your foot out of the tight shoe. “This is like a reverse-Cinderella situation, isn’t it?” He laughed, staring up at your slack-jawed smile, “only I wouldn’t have to try your shoe on every woman in town.” He stood and swiped a bit of smeared lipstick from your skin- before smearing a bit more with his own lips. “I mean, who could forget a face like this?”

A contented sigh left your chest as you melted against him, “I’m really glad we went tonight. I like celebrating Nat.”

Bucky trailed kisses around your hairline and across your cheek. “Yeah? Good. I was afraid…” he almost stopped himself. You were drunk. Sleepy. Maybe this wasn’t the right time. But if he waited till tomorrow, he knew there was a chance you’d come up with an excuse by then. “I thought maybe you weren’t having a good time.”

You cocked your head to the side, your glassy eyes narrowing just a touch. “Huh? Why?”

Bucky shrugged. “Well, you seemed a little tense, doll. All night. I kind of thought maybe you were upset or something. It seemed like…” He let out a sigh. Maybe he was projecting. He always assumed he’d done something wrong. Or that he hadn’t done something you wanted him to. But he needed to know. All he ever wanted was to be better- the best- for you. He wanted constructive criticism and performance reviews. He needed to be as perfect for you as you were for him. And so, he pressed on, “Every time I walked over, you kinda stiffened up.”

A frown pulled your features downward. Your hands shot up to Bucky’s cheeks and pulled his face toward yours. “Oh, Buck, oh no- I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he laughed. “I just wanted to double check.”

“I only thought you might do something- or, actually…” You paused for a moment, formulating your drunk, murky thoughts. “It really has nothing to do with you.”

Bucky wasn’t following. He was certain that this was a mistake, that he should’ve waited till morning to bring it up. But it was too late now.

“I just kinda got used to it and so I expected it to happen. But you didn’t do it!” You gave his cheeks a gentle squish. “So it’s all good.” With that, your lips swept against his in a soft kiss, smearing his skin with your lipstick.

Bucky almost didn’t want to ask. But he needed to know. “I didn’t do what, baby?”

“You know,” you shrugged, “call me slut.”

Bucky’s ears started ringing. There was no way her heard you right- was there? Maybe he was drunk- no, he couldn’t get drunk. Maybe he imagined it? “Wait, what? Why would I call you a…” he didn’t want to say it. “Why would I do that?”

“Because of my outfit!” You said it so casually, so matter of fact. Almost as though it were normal. “It’s pretty tight. And revealing. And my titties are almost, like, all the way out.” You gave your chest a shake. “So I thought you’d get mad at me. But you didn’t!” You pressed another long kiss to his lips, “thanks for not yelling.” A soft, tired smile punctuated your sentence. But Bucky knew this was a red flag.

He knew instantly this was a holdover from your ex. The one who belittled you, criticized you, acted as though you belonged to him. He made you feel like you were his property, like he was in control of your entire life. What you wore, what you ate, what you watched- he decided.

He was insecure. He knew how beautiful you were, how out of his league. And so, he opted to tear you down. To blame you for his own self-doubt. To chastise and berate you for showing what he deemed ‘too much’ skin or wearing ‘too much’ make up. He always asked who you were dressing up for, who you were trying to impress. If not him, who else was there? What other reason did you have to get dolled up?

He even went through your closet once while you were away, ridding your wardrobe of anything he deemed ‘inappropriate’. He threw it all out and called you a slut, a whore- simply for owning such clothing.

He required you get his permission to wear anything short or low cut. He assumed you wanted to sleep with- or already slept with- any man you talked to. Coworkers, friends, the barista at your coffee place. He saw everything you did in public as flirtatious and risqué. He said he couldn’t trust you. That your friends were a bad influence. He did everything he could to pull your life apart until only he remained.

“Okay, we’re gonna talk about this more when you’re sober,” Bucky said, “But I’m never going to yell at you- especially not for something as inconsequential as an outftit.”

“You can yell at me,” you sighed. It was the sound of someone dejected, resigned- someone forced into submission. “Sometimes I don’t learn my lesson, and so I need to be yelled at. Ya know?” Your sad smile made another appearance.

Bucky shook his head. He was disgusted with your ex. With men in general, really. “No, that’s just something he told you, doll. You don’t need to be yelled at. I’m your boyfriend- not your parent, not your boss. I’m not going to yell at you- ever.”

You perked up suddenly. “Really? I like that, I like not being yelled at.”

Bucky nodded and left a kiss against your forehead. “You’re a fully grown adult; you’re allowed to wear whatever you want- you know that, right? You’re-” He took a pause and the quickly rephrased, “This is not me giving you permission. You don’t need my permission. I’m just saying, it’s your body. They’re your clothes. You should wear what makes you happy, not what you think I’ll ‘allow’”.

You stared up at him, struggling to make sense of such a foreign concept. “Are you sure? Cause… what if, what if I wanna wear something like, really slutty?”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “That’s not something I’ll ever I be opposed to.”

“But what if-”

“Baby, no ‘what ifs’. No ‘buts’. You should wear whatever you want, whether it’s a parka and snow pants or fishnets and those... those-” he made groping motions at his chest and came up empty, “what are they called? The sticky boob things?”

“Chicken cutlets!” you laughed.

“Yeah! Chicken cutlets!” He couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous name. “You don’t belong to anyone but yourself. Your body is yours. And if you want to wear nothing but chicken cutlets or those little pasty things, that’s your choice.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, weighing the truth of his words. The way you’d been treated was dehumanizing. Demoralizing. Asking permission for something as simple as clothing always made you feel stupid. Small. Ashamed. And though hearing Bucky say these things eased the tension in your shoulders, the apprehension in your chest remained.

“I just don’t wanna…” It felt stupid saying what you feared. You felt like a child. “I just don’t wanna get in trouble.” The admission came with a heavy sigh and few unexpected tears. You lived on a leash for so long it made freedom sound scary.

Bucky pulled you close and showed you the love you needed. He let you breathe. Unlearning the things your ex ingrained in you would take time, this Bucky knew. But he was more than happy to help you on the journey.

“You’re not gonna get in trouble. You can’t get in trouble- not with me.” He pulled your face from his chest and rested his palms against your cheeks, “I’m not in charge of you.”

Meeting his eyeline was hard; shame still had its hooks in you. “But what if I wear something really revealing and other guys hit on me?”

Bucky tucked a finger under your chin and lifted your head ever so slightly. When your eyes finally met his, you found an almost amused smile on his face. “Doll, I know how to fight,” he said with a wink. “It’s my job. Wear whatever you want. And if someone tries to make you uncomfortable, they’ll have me to answer to. Okay?”

This time, your smile was genuine. “Okay,” you laughed, “thanks, Buck. You the best.” You melted against his body with a sigh and barely noticed that he’d swept you up into his arms. No one ever cared for you the way he did. When you’d first met, part of you thought it was a front. Maybe he was trying to right the wrongs of his past by overcorrecting.

But it was real- all of it. His adoration for you, his devotion to you; everything he said was genuine. And as he carried you to bed and helped you get into some pajamas, you knew you’d never have to walk on eggshells with him. He’d never make you ask for permission or beg for forgiveness. He only wanted you to be happy. And if you wanted to wear a different, outrageous, barely-there outfit every day of the week, he’d happily fight off any man who dared comment.

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brbsoulnomming · 7 months

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 23

-----

They're on the front page for about a week.

They run the stories of Hopper and Henry Creel simultaneously - honestly, Eddie kind of thinks the fact that Hopper was presumed dead and is now back makes it easier for people to believe a previously assumed dead guy is the top suspect for the murders.

Eddie gets barely a mention clearing him of all charges. There's a couple of articles about him and Steve fighting off Henry Creel, but the focus is more on Steve than anything else.

Steve bitches about it, about how they did the same thing after Starcourt, but Eddie's kind of glad his name isn't plastered all over the place anymore.

He and Steve are down in the kitchen scrounging up celebratory snacks and beers - Steve has a clean bill of health, and Eddie's stitches are coming out in a few days - when the phone rings.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve speaking," he greets.

Eddie barely has time to decide he's absolutely going to tease him about that later when the response comes - loud enough for him to hear it.

"Steven, my boy!" the voice booms, spirited and affable.

Steve closes his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Hi, Dad."

"We just heard the news!" Steve's father says. "Why didn't you call to tell us? Did the earthquake damage anything?"

Part of Eddie thinks he should leave. Or at least back away, so he can't hear everything that's being said - but the other part of him thinks that Steve'd push him away if he didn't want him here, and with how tense Steve's gone next to him, Eddie can't bring himself to pull away.

"The house is fine," Steve says. "Loch Nora didn't get hit at all."

"Good, good," Mr. Harrington says. "Your mother hears you and Rachel have been volunteering with the relief efforts?"

Eddie didn't think it was possible, but Steve goes even stiffer.

"Robin," he corrects, his tone smooth and entirely void of inflection. "Yes, we've been coordinating donations."

"That's what I want to hear!" There's a sound like a loud clap. "I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously. You had a lot of ground to make up for, but it seems giving you a dose of reality has paid off. We'll be able to have some real talks about your future soon. What? Oh, your mother wants to talk to you."

There's a shuffling noise, then a quieter and much less friendly voice greets, "Steven."

"Hey Mom," Steve's posture relaxes a little. "I told Dad we made it out okay."

There's some kind of response, but Steve's mom is too quiet for Eddie to make it out.

"No, of course I didn't file charges. I knew you'd want to handle it if anything else happened." A pause. "Yes, that Carver. Mom, it's not - yeah. Yeah, okay. No, it's just him. I think he's just mad that people listened to me and not him. Yeah, I - all right. Bye."

He hangs up the phone, leaning in with one arm braced against the wall, a long line of tension.

"Steve?" Eddie says quietly.

Steve turns to face him, giving a little crooked smile. "You can ask if you want. I don't mind you and Robin knowing. It's… easier sometimes, if she expects it, and it's probably the same with you."

Eddie aches a little. "What was your dad talking about? What ground to make up for?"

Steve makes a face. "I did a lot of damage to the Harrington image the last bit of high school, you know. Stopped caring about my reputation, didn't get accepted into any of the colleges they wanted me to go to, kept getting into fights."

"But that wasn't - did they even ask you what actually happened?" Eddie asks.

"They don't care what actually happened," Steve replies. "Just what it looked like. Like I said, it's all about appearances with them. My dad's the main reason I worked at Scoops instead of being a lifeguard again last summer - he says it's because I needed a real life experience, learn what it means to work at the bottom, but he was just pissy and trying to humiliate me. He talks a big game about working hard, but all he really cares about is how I make them look. Now that I've gotten good press twice, he's happy again."

Eddie's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. "He didn't even ask if you were okay."

Steve shrugs. "I looked fine in the papers."

Right.

Appearances.

"Will you be mad at me if I punch your dad if I ever see him?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, a surprised little sound like he's startled by it. "No," he says. "But only if I get to punch yours for leaving you."

Oh.

If Eddie was thinking about it, he'd have moved slowly, making sure to telegraph what he was doing so he didn't startle Steve, but he reacts on instinct and pulls Steve into a hug.

Steve doesn't even flinch at the sudden motion. He just melts into it, letting Eddie wrap him up and hold him tightly. His arms come up to cross over Eddie's shoulder blades, the placement automatically mindful of his injuries in the way only someone who's bandaged them multiple times could be.

"Sometimes I wish they just wouldn't call at all," Steve admits, face buried in Eddie's neck. It comes out in a rush, like he hadn't really thought about it before he said it, but he's getting it out anyway. "That they'd just cut me out of their life, instead of stringing me along."

"Fuck them," Eddie says. "I've got you."

He can hear Steve swallow, and Steve hugs him tighter.

They stay like that for a long while, until Eddie finally pulls back.

"Hey," he says softly. "I'll get the food and stuff. Go upstairs and see Robin."

Steve looks uncertain. "You sure?"

Eddie hugs him one more time. "You've got two soulmates," he murmurs. "Let us take care of you a little, okay?"

Steve squeezes him tight, then lets go with a nod before heading upstairs.

Eddie dithers in the kitchen for a bit, taking an extra long time. Whatever his complicated feelings are, it doesn't bother him at all to give Steve and Robin some space like this.

They're talking when he comes back, which isn't a surprise, and he hears his own name as he gets closer to the bedroom. Eddie pauses, even though he shouldn't, listening through the cracked door. He'll feel worse about it later, probably, but right now the masochistic side of him can't resist the urge to know what they're saying about him.

"I want him so much, Robs," he hears Steve saying, low and soft like he's trying to be quiet.

"I know," Robin replies, her tone somehow managing to be both gentle and snarky at the same time. "It's kind of pathetic."

Steve lets out a muffled groan. "Not helping. I don't exactly have the greatest track record at being able to get over people! I thought, with my soulmate-"

He cuts off, and Eddie can't help the bubbling anger that springs up. Steve thought? Has he stopped for one second to think about how Eddie might feel, only ever having a platonic soulmate? Wanting him just as bad and not being able to have him, not being able to have anyone?

"-someone else?" Robin is saying, like she's reading his thoughts, and Eddie has to hold his breath as he makes sure he hadn't accidentally said that outloud.

"I don't want anyone else," Steve says miserably. "Just him. I think - I think it's always going to be him. Fuck, why does this have to be so complicated?"

There's a heavy, thick silence, and Eddie's anger simmers and crackles under his skin, the way it always does when there's a hefty mixing of guilt in it.

"Do you think-" Robin starts, then stops. "Do you wish-" She stops again, voice thick with emotion. "Would it be easier if we-"

"No," Steve says, cutting her off at the same time that Eddie realizes what she's probably trying to bring herself to ask.

There's the muffled sound of shuffling, quiet hitching breaths - probably the motions of Steve trying to reassure one of his soulmates that he wants her, and he imagines him gathering her close, pressing soft kisses anywhere he can reach, cutting off anything she tries to say with a deeper, fiercer kiss.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes copper to keep himself from making some kind of sound to give himself away. He hates that he doesn't know what he's feeling - hates that he thinks he's jealous of Robin just as much as he doesn't feel jealous of her, not really. He's jealous of the images he conjures when he thinks about them together, but he's never actually jealous when he's with them, when he watches them.

That reminder makes him shift, peeking through the cracked door so he can see them. They're sitting facing each other, legs all tangled together. One of Steve's hands is covering Robin's heart, and the other is curled around one of Robin's hands, pinning it to his chest over his own heart, and their foreheads are pressed together.

Something in Eddie settles in a way he can't explain, all thoughts of jealousy gone.

"There's no me without you," Steve is saying. "You're a part of me, Robs, I can't do this without either of you."

She says something too muffled for Eddie to make out.

"I'm happy. I really am, I promise. I love you, I love us, exactly the way we are. And with Eddie-"

Eddie leans forward, too desperate to know what he's going to say to worry about being caught.

"I don't need anything else other than just him. However I can have him. If it's never romantic, if this is us forever - it doesn't matter, not really. I just need you and him, and the kids, and I'm good."

There's silence, the two of them just completely wrapped up in each other, and fuck, Eddie - he thinks you know what, if this is it, if what he has is Steve and Robin and the kids forever, then he's good, too.

"I love you, Robin Buckley," Steve says. "In a way I never realized was possible, until you and that dumb kid showed up in my life and taught me that you don't have to do anything to earn someone's love. That sometimes, it's just unconditional."

Steve was sixteen when he fought his first demogorgon, Eddie remembers that. Which means he couldn't have been any younger than that when he started really spending any time with Dustin or Robin, which means - the same thing that Eddie went through when he first moved in with Uncle Wayne, the thing that was so impossible for him to believe at twelve, Steve wasn't shown until he was probably seventeen.

Fuck, his heart aches.

"Does Henderson know he was your first true love?" Robin asks, her voice a little wet, but obviously trying to make things a little lighter.

Steve laughs, the sound just a bit thick. "No, and he'd be insufferable if I told him."

There's the faint sting of a new lie being written on the back of his calf, and the second he registers it, he hears Robin's startled laughter. Eddie pulls back from the door, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to get himself back under control.

"Oh my God, Steve, you did tell him! When?"

He can hear Steve sputtering and deflecting, the sound of Robin smacking him and Steve scrambling - probably trying to avoid them - and if there was ever going to be a good time to announce his return after shamelessly listening in for too long, now is probably it.

Eddie pushes open the door, six pack under one arm and bags of popcorn and chips under the other as he shoots a hopefully only slightly manic grin at them. "What's Steve lying about now?"

"Nothing!" Steve says too quickly.

Sloppy, for him, considering Eddie knows how good Steve usually is at using sarcasm or half truths to avoid telling lies, so Eddie tosses the bag of popcorn at him.

He catches it easily, of course, but it means he's now vulnerable to Robin's attacks, and he has to swerve to avoid another slap to his shoulder.

"Steve's trying to pretend like we both didn't get that lie, too," Robin says.

Steve groans. "Fine, Jesus. It was back when we were waiting at the camper, and Dustin was upset. I told him that he was the first person who was ever just - there, in my life because he wanted to be, even after he didn't need me to fight demodogs. No one could ever replace him."

"You're such a sap, Steve," Eddie teases him as he comes to sit next to him and Robin.

"Shut up," Steve grumbles. "That's it, I'm picking the movie."

—

The next day, Lucas and Max swing by. Steve hauls a basketball stand out of the garage and sets it up in the driveway, and Eddie sits at the kitchen table, eating a bologna sandwich while he watches them play.

It's safer inside, where there's no one to see if he gets affected by Steve's tank top and shorts.

Or at least, he thought it was safer inside.

"Do you love Steve?" Max asks, plopping down beside him.

Eddie chokes on his Coke, and she stares at him unsympathetically until he manages to breathe again.

"He's my soulmate, so." Eddie shrugs.

Max gives him an unimpressed look, and yeah, okay, he figures they both know soulmates aren't a guarantee of anything. Eddie's parents were soulmates, after all, loved each other more than anything else in this world, and that still hadn't been enough.

"I wanted him to be my soulmate before I knew it was him," he admits, because that's a more true answer without actually having to say yes or no. "Nothing's happened since to change that."

She gets this look on her face like she's trying to decide if that's an acceptable response. After a moment, she rests her chin on her knees, staring out the window, and Eddie figures he's in the clear.

"Steve has two soulmates," she says after a while. "You don't. Doesn't that make you feel - I don't know, like you aren't enough?"

"Jesus Christ, Red, you're not pulling any punches today, are you?" Eddie swears.

He doesn't actually want to have this conversation. It's not something he's completely sorted out on his own, yet, even though he's done a lot of thinking on it, and he's tempted to tell her to mind her own business.

But she won't look at him, and he knows why she's asking. She's not talking about him and Steve and Robin, not really.

He thinks about telling her something standard about soulmates, or maybe even the advice that his uncle gave him, but it doesn't feel right.

"It's not what I always imagined," Eddie admits slowly.

Max doesn't say anything, but he watches the way she starts to unwind a little, how she doesn't hold herself so stiff, tilts a little to actually listen to what he's saying.

"You know Steve and I talked to each other when we were younger. We thought the same way about a lot of stuff, and I had this idea in my head that he was some little outcast like me, in another small town somewhere out there, that we'd move to a big city and find each other. But then we stopped talking."

"How come?" Max asks, looking caught up despite herself.

Eddie grins at her, wide and self depreciating. "I found out he was probably some rich, popular jerk, and decided I hated him."

And there's that unimpressed look again.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie grumbles. "Let's just say there might be some truth to not talking with your soulmate before you actually meet them. Point is, for almost five years, I hated my soulmate. Thought the best I could hope for was that we'd meet when we were thirty and ancient, and maybe then he would have changed. Then a little while ago, I met Steve."

Max's brows furrow. "You met Steve way before that."

"Nah," he says. "I knew of Steve. I had a lot of assumptions about him, knew what I thought he was, but I didn't know the real Steve. That Steve I met when he helped explain all of this to me and didn't make me feel stupid for not picking up some of it right away, even after I held a broken bottle to his throat."

She snorts, but looks like she's considering that. "I met him when he was putting himself between me, Lucas, and Dustin and a hoard of demodogs, a couple of hours after calling them dickheads and me some random girl."

Eddie salutes her with his can of Coke, half in understanding and half to cover the way his heart wants to melt again. "That Steve was nothing like I imagined my soulmate to be, when I was daydreaming about him or hating him. But I knew I didn't want anyone else, and Steve having another soulmate doesn't change that. I don't think it makes what he feels for me any less than what I feel for him, and I don't think it means I'm less important to him than he is to me."

Max frowns. "Really, or are you just saying that?"

"Really," Eddie says, though he hadn't actually been sure it was true until he heard himself say it. "I'm not saying it's not hard sometimes. And sometimes I get in my head about it. But I wouldn't change it. Steve wouldn't be the same without Robin, you know? He wouldn't be the Steve that made me want him to be my soulmate so bad."

There's a long moment of silence. Then, "Would you be saying that if both of his soulmates were romantic?"

Eddie's glad he stopped drinking, because he knows he would have choked again. For a split second, she wonders if she's picked up on - but no, that still isn't what this about. "Are both of yours romantic?"

Her jaw juts forward, arms hugging tighter around her knees. "What if they were?"

Fuck, he doesn't know what to say to that. "It's okay to like both guys and girls," he says, because he feels like that's the most important bit. "I do. I mean, mostly guys, but sometimes girls."

Her grip loosens a little, but she still doesn't say anything.

"It sounds like maybe I'm not the one you should be talking to about that," he says carefully.

She scowls. "I talked to Steve already."

Right, of course she did.

"What did Steve say?"

"Steve said he thinks the line between platonic and romantic soulmates isn't as straightforward as people like to pretend it is. That sometimes what you might think should be romantic is actually platonic, and sometimes what you think should be platonic is romantic, and sometimes there's going to be things that blur the lines and you don't really know which one it is. He said it was okay to have two platonic or two romantic or one of each or, like, any combination." She makes a face here, like she's not entirely sure what he meant by any combination - or like she was sure, and didn't need that much detail. "That as long as everyone was communicating, it was okay to do whatever worked for us."

Eddie swallows. "Steve sounds pretty smart."

Max rolls her eyes. "He has his moments."

"So… are you communicating with Lucas and El?" he asks.

She picks at a rip in her jeans. "I talked to Lucas."

He waits, but it seems like that's all he's going to get. He starts to ask what Lucas said, but… he gets the feeling that it's not necessarily about what he said or not.

"But it's Lucas," Eddie says. "And you wanted to hear how someone else in a familiar situation felt."

Eddie gets that familiar, itchy feeling that he does when he wants to run, and he only barely resists the urge to bounce his leg up and down. It's not that he wants to run from Max, or even from this conversation, it's just - it's starting to make him think about things, and he really, really doesn't want an audience for this. He wants to lock himself in a room and pace, listen to some music, maybe scribble out his thoughts, something to get his hands moving and his brain in some kind of order -

"Even if Steve wanted both of us romantically," he says, knowing it's close enough that it's not a lie. "I would still rather be his soulmate than anyone else."

Max looks at him with narrowed eyes for a long moment. "I'm gonna ask Steve if you lied about that."

Eddie fixes her with an unimpressed look right back. "You think I'd do that to him?"

"You better not." There's an edge of menace in her tone, but she lets it go, so Eddie figures she doesn't really think he'd lie about something like that knowing it would be etched on Steve's skin forever.

Silence stretches between them, and Eddie follows her gaze out the window, watching Steve and Lucas playing basketball.

"I've put him through so much already," Max says, so quietly that he can barely hear it.

Fuck, Eddie is so fucking soft for these kids.

"You have not," Eddie says immediately. "You haven't done a goddamn thing, Red. Both of you have already been through so much, and it's not because of something either of you did. It's fucking Hawkins."

She doesn't look convinced, so Eddie pushes his shoulder against hers.

"Lucas is smart. He's more emotionally intelligent than I am-" Max snorts at him, and he's reasonably sure he hears her mutter something along the lines of like that's hard, but he ignores her. "He knows what he can take and what he can't. All you have to do is believe him when he tells you it."

She's quiet for a moment, looking contemplative. Then she asks, "Does that work for you?"

Right, yeah, okay, he deserved that one. He thinks about deflecting, but -

"I'm trying," he admits quietly. "What do you think, huh, you gonna let me beat you there or are we gonna do this together?"

Max glances out the window again, then turns to look back at him, her chin jutting out. "Steve loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often. I don't think he really believes that we love him as much as he loves us, even though we do."

She says it like a threat, like she's saying if you tell him I said that I will kill you or maybe if you hurt him I will kill you. Either way, he'd be dead.

"I'll talk to Lucas and El, and you make sure you don't disappoint him."

Goddamn if that doesn't stab right to the heart of him, lodging itself beneath his ribcage and sticking right into the parts that'd already made him want to run from this conversation.

"Okay," he manages to get out, because he's not sure he'll survive any other answer.

Max nods. "Good talk," she tells him, and then she pushes herself up and she's gone.

Eddie stays there, mulling all of that over. He doesn't think she'd actually tell Steve anything they just talked about, nor does he think she really has any idea that Steve had asked him to make their bond romantic and he'd turned him down. Honestly, Eddie could probably get away with patting himself on the back for actually managing to give some decent advice and be the person she'd needed him to be for just a little while, then go on being a very devoted platonic soulmate for Steve.

Except even if Max doesn't really know, Eddie does. And now Eddie's thinking about things he doesn't want to, and wondering how much of a hypocrite some of the advice that he gave her makes him, and -

"Hey," Lucas says, and Eddie yelps.

Lucas raises his eyebrows at him.

"Jesus Christ, don't do that," Eddie bitches.

There's a little smirk, but fortunately, Lucas doesn't actually comment on it. "You talk to Max?" he asks instead.

"Yeah," Eddie replies, narrowing his eyes at him.

Lucas lights up, though, his whole face practically beaming with his smile. "Good. I figured it'd help her to hear that your soulmate cares about you no matter what from someone who wasn't me."

Eddie raises one eyebrow. "How do you know that's what I said?"

Lucas rolls his eyes. "Because you're Steve's soulmate. If that wasn't the way you felt, Robin would know, and she'd have already murdered you."

Eddie considers that. "Okay, fair."

Lucas makes his way over to the fridge, yanking it open and standing in front of it as he peers in. "So what did you tell her?"

Eddie sits back, waiting until Lucas turns to look back at him so he can shoot him a wide, smug grin. "If she wants you to know, she'll tell you."

He gets a glare in return, but Lucas doesn't protest that, just leans back in to grab a pair of Gatorades from the fridge. He twists the top off of one, taking a long swallow before he shuts the door and starts back out of the kitchen, giving him a little nod as he passes.

"Hey, Lucas?" Eddie calls before he can leave.

Lucas pauses, looking quizzically at him.

"I'm guessing you talk to Steve like Max does, about all this." Eddie makes an exaggerated gesture between them and out the kitchen window, meant to loop all of them in together. "But, uh. You know. If you ever want a different perspective, from someone in kind of your position."

He motions to himself, then splays his hands out all ta-da.

Lucas hesitates, lingering in the middle of the kitchen before he seems to make a decision.

"I was kind of upset about it when I first found out Max's other soulmate was El," he admits. "It was right after Billy died, and their soulmate bond was new, and Max kept letting El in while she was shutting me out. And I was angry, and jealous, and then when El had to leave and Max kept pushing me away, I just kept thinking that if El was here Max wouldn't be by herself so much, that the wrong soulmate got to stay in Hawkins."

Lucas pauses, twisting the Gatorades in his hand, but Eddie gets the feeling it's a gathering his thoughts pause more than a waiting for Eddie to say something pause.

"Eventually I realized that El could help Max in a way that I couldn't, and that maybe that was the point. I started calling El a little, too, when the phone wasn't busy, and just - El was grieving, too. I didn't want to feel jealous over something that helped them both anymore. It's been good with El back, really good. I don't know if I like El like that, but if Max does-" he shrugs. "I guess I kind of already got over the jealousy bit. It doesn't really matter to me if they kiss while they're having sleepovers or not, as long as they don't exclude me."

Now it seems like a waiting for Eddie to say something pause, so he gives a soft little hum. "What do you do if you end up feeling excluded?"

Lucas blinks, like he wasn't expecting that question. "Uh. Well, before, I talked to my parents and sometimes to Steve or Robin or Dustin. It's hard talking to Mike or Will about it because they're not all that objective about El stuff. I don't… really know if I want to tell my parents about Max and El like that yet, so I guess… talk to Steve or Robin or Dustin." He pauses, then, more tentatively, "Or you?"

Fuck, these kids keep getting to him. "Or me," he agrees easily. "But you should probably also add talk to Max and El to that list."

Lucas makes a face, but doesn't disagree. "I don't think a lot of the others know about Max," he says instead. "Just me and Steve and Robin, and now you."

There's an edge to his voice, like he's pretty sure Eddie must be safe if Max told him, but he's ready to fight him about it anyway.

"Max knows about me, now, so we're even," Eddie replies, pleased that the effort he puts into making sure his voice sounds steady pays off.

"Yeah?" Lucas asks. "Who else knows?"

"Steve and Robin. And now Max and you," Eddie replies.

Lucas lights up a little. "Cool."

"Cool," Eddie echoes, even though he feels a little shaky from the fact that he's now said it twice today, which is double the amount of times he's ever said it before at all.

There's a comfortable silence for a moment.

"It's complicated, being in our position," Eddie says after a bit. "I think it's always going to be complicated. But if we let it - I think it could be really great, too. Most people only end up in pairs, but us? We get a whole damn party of interconnected soulmates."

"A party of soulmates," Lucas says thoughtfully, then grins. "Yeah, I like that."

"You're a good kid, Lucas," Eddie tells him, not sure if he really needs to hear it, but he still remembers the way it made him feel when Uncle Wayne said it.

Lucas ducks his head, looking a little pleased, even though he follows it up with a sidelong look. "Even though I'm kind of a jock?"

Eddie shrugs. "My soulmate is a whole jock. I guess that means I've got a little jock in me, too."

Lucas's expression shifts, turning mischievous, and suddenly he looks like the fifteen year old boy he is, and not a world-weary adult. It's nice, it's wonderful, Eddie loves to see it, except it makes him realize what he just said far, far too late to do anything about it.

In his defense, they were having a serious discussion, and -

Yeah, he's got nothing.

Maybe it'll be fine? Lucas is probably the most mature out of all of the boys, maybe -

"I don't know, man," Lucas says, slowly, like he's actually considering that. "We've all heard the rumors about Steve. I don't think it's something little you're gonna be dealing with."

Eddie gapes at him.

"I said you were mature," he bemoans, flinging his upper body over the top of the kitchen table just to make Lucas laugh harder. "I told Max you were emotionally intelligent! Begone from my sight!"

Lucas takes his Gatorades and leaves, still laughing at him.

—

"Max cornered me in the kitchen to threaten me today," Eddie says.

Steve snorts. "Of course she did. What about?"

Eddie shrugs, waiting for Steve to look at him so he can waggle his eyebrows at him. "She also threatened to kill me if I told you."

Steve shoves him, and Eddie falls back dramatically, sprawling out on the couch. He props himself up on his elbows to look at Steve, but he doesn't seem inclined to actually push him to reveal what he and Max talked about. Instead, Steve goes about shutting down for the night, checking to make sure all the windows and the sliding glass door are locked.

"Soulmate stuff," Eddie says. Or more like blurts out, before he can change his mind, to force himself to have to keep going. "She told me what you said about the line between platonic and romantic soulmates. Made me think about some things."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, stopping by the couch to look at him.

"Do you still want me, Steve?" Eddie asks, his heart in his throat.

He isn't prepared for Steve to shut down, for the way his face goes cold and hard and blank.

"Not cool, Eddie," Steve says, turning away and going back to the windows in the living room.

Eddie pushes himself up off the couch, then immediately doubts himself and sits back down. "Steve, what?"

Steve won't look at him, and he can hear the window locks rattling with the force that Steve's using to check them. "You're being a dick, man, come on. You can't ask me stuff like that."

"I-" he starts, then stops, his mind scrambling a little. Is he too late? Did Steve move on already, even though he told Robin that he wasn't going to? Is Eddie so easy to get over that even his fucking soulmate couldn't keep him? "What happened to it's always going to be him, huh?"

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, incredulous, and Eddie kind of wants to cry a little because he knows that Steve has started saying that more because of all the time they've spent together. "You were listening to me and Robin? What the fuck, man, you still think it's fair to throw that at me?"

"Fuck you, Steve, I know it wasn't a lie when you said that. Am I so fucking easy to just stop wanting, or are you that fucking fickle?"

"Eddie, goddamn, is this - were you testing me? Is this you lashing out at me again? Because I can't, okay, not about this, I can't-" he cuts off, one hand scrubbing over his face. "I told you, I can't."

Oh.

Oh fuck.

"Steve, no, I wasn't teasing, I - it was a real question."

Steve stills, pausing right by a window. The light of the moon catches on him, highlighting parts of him in pale silver while the rest of him is warmed from the soft yellow of the living room lamp. "Seriously?"

"Come on, Steve. I just picked a fight with you instead of asking what you meant, and you're surprised I'm not sure you still want me anymore?"

Eddie can hear Steve breathing out, then in, then back out again, watches as he lets some of the tension bleed out of his body. "I think I picked some of that fight right back. I'm sorry, I just - all right, let's go back, and I'll listen without making assumptions, okay?"

Yeah, okay, Eddie can do that.

"Max told me what you said," Eddie starts again. "And it made me think about how smart you are." He wishes Steve were closer, so he could see his face better, at the same time as he wishes he couldn't see it at all. "How brave you are. How when you know what you want, you go for it, how you fight to keep it, how you own up when you make a mistake, how you work so hard to make all this work."

This is Eddie trying to be brave, he thinks. Trying to go for what he wants, to accept that they're going to have to work at this, that he's probably going to get hurt, that he has to trust that Steve will be willing to work past whatever it is that springs up.

It takes him a little too long, though, because after a few moments, Steve gently prompts, "Eddie?"

"Do you still want me?" he asks again. He didn't mean to, but it comes out anyway, all small and tentative.

"Eds," Steve breathes out. "I'm always going to want you."

He loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often, Max had said, and Eddie swallows down the urge to ask him if he means it, if he'll still mean it the next time Eddie picks a fight, or every time he's an ass.

"I'm always going to want you, too," Eddie says.

Steve's hands twitch, and he looks like he's waiting for something - for a lie to show up on his skin, Eddie realizes, and Eddie knows he's going to have to do better than that.

"I want you," he says again. "Steve, I want you. I'll take you any way I can get you, but I just - this is stupid, I'm stupid. I'm making us both miserable because I was scared."

He's not surprised that's what gets Steve moving, and he comes over to sit by him on the couch.

"You're not stupid," Steve replies. "Not for being scared."

Eddie shakes his head. "No, but I am for giving into it. So I might get hurt, so what? I'm already hurting, wanting you so bad and not getting to have you, knowing you'd probably let me kiss you and not letting myself go for it."

Steve's looking at him, eyes all sharp and intense, like he's really listening to Eddie's every word, and hell if it doesn't make him feel just a little bit drunk on it.

"Talking with Max made me realize that I trust you. I trust you, with my life, with - fucking everything. I trust you to work through this with me, to figure out what works for us."

Steve runs a hand over his jaw, going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah?" he asks after a moment. "You really - you want to do this?"

"So fucking much," Eddie says.

Steve's whole face lights up in a smile, and he leans in, one hand resting on Eddie's knee. "That mean I can kiss you now?"

Eddie barely manages to get out a please before Steve's other hand is sliding over his jaw, slipping back to push his fingers into his hair and cup the side of his face. Steve holds him there as he kisses him, and it's-

It's not Eddie's first kiss. But it's his first kiss that's ever really meant anything, and the soft brush of Steve's lips against his makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Steve gives a little hum, low in his throat, and then he's tilting his head to get a better angle, and holy shit.

Eddie pushes forward eagerly, deepening the kiss until they're both panting for breath, and even then they don't pull away. Their foreheads press together, lips parted and just barely touching as they share the same air. His eyes have closed at some point, but now he opens them to find Steve looking back at him, and Eddie smiles.

"How long do you think until Robin notices we haven't come up?" he asks.

"I'm okay with figuring that out," Steve replies, closing the tiny bit of distance between them to kiss him again.

I've got a pretty good handle on the outline for the rest of this now, so I'd say we've got about four more parts left!

-----

Part 24

Tag list (always happy to add more): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #robin buckley #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #background lumax #hints of elmax and elumax #platonic soulmates stobin #steddie soulmate au

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