i hate you, but i think i love you
pairing: enemy!jake x afab!reader
summary: you’re paired up with a guy you despise for a project. he’s annoying, but still nice, somehow? he’s confusing, and one night changes everything, things taking a turn for the better or the worse.
genre: college au, enemies to lovers, fluff, a LOT of angst, smut
warnings: jake is lowk annoying as shit, mentions of social anxiety, reader has facial insecurity, petnames, drinking, kissing, making out, jealousy, oral (m receiving), orgasm, a lot of regret and guilt, throwing up, crying
wc: 11034
author’s note: hi guys so this is my first fic 😅 pls lmk if you have any suggestions!! also NOT PROOFREAD ok anyways enjoy !!
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You pressed your noise-cancelling harder against your ears in frustration. You could still hear the loud bass coming from the room next door. With a sigh, you plopped down onto your bed. You know you’re not the confrontational type, but tomorrow’s exam is worth 50% of your grade.
Before you can convince yourself not to, your feet are already moving to the door. Shoes, keys, phone, check. Alright. You got this. You can’t let your social anxiety take over when your grades are at stake. You step out of your dorm and walk up to the door right across from you.
You’re growing impatient.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
You clicked your tongue in exasperation. Just as you turned to leave, the door swung open.
The deafening sound of partying filled your ears. The scent of strong alcohol shoots into your nose. You peered into the house, just to be met with the normal party chaos. Drunk people dancing like no one’s watching, couples making out, the usual shabang.
“Hi? Do you need something?” the guy who opened the door asked. He was wearing a black hoodie, jeans, and a backwards hat. He had striking features, with hints of softness sprinkled over. His nose and eyes were sharp and his lips were pink and plump. He is incredibly attractive, there’s no denying that. However, you did not come here to fawn over some loud party frat guys. So, you pushed that thought out of your mind before it became anything more.
“Oh-uh hi. Can you turn down the volume please?” you asked quietly, your natural social anxiety taking over.
The guy looked you up and down with amusement. He could tell you weren’t the confrontational type. You looked so pathetic, it was laughable. You noticed his gaze and felt frustration bubble through you. Why were you like this? You hated that your social anxiety took control over you in such moments like this, causing you to appear unthreatening. You seriously can’t afford it this time, so instead of backing down like you usually do, you raise your voice.
“I’m serious. Some of us are trying to study!”
“And if I don’t?” he tests.
“I–you–just please turn it down.” you said, too softly.
His gaze lingers. Amused, like he can tell how hard you’re trying not to break.
“Alright princess. I’ll turn it down since you look like you’re gonna break down in tears,” he remarks with a smirk.
“I–what? No, I’m not-” before you can get the words out you’ve already spun on your heel, speedwalking back to your room.
Once you get there, you flop onto your bed, exhausted and embarrassed. You’ve always let people like him get to you. If you’re being completely honest, you’re more mad at yourself for letting it affect you so much than you were at them. Your social anxiety affected your life so much but every time you decided you were done with it, it would come crawling back like a parasite.
Great. He didn’t turn it down at all. There’s no way in hell you’re going back there. You decide to call it a night; there’s no point in trying to continue to memorize concepts with all the noise.
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The next morning, you walked into the lecture hall, heart pounding. This test is worth 50% of your grade. If you flunk, you might as well start preparing for your funeral. As you walk towards your seat, you notice something, or rather, someone.
Oh, shit. It’s the guy from yesterday. The one who humiliated you. Of course, he just HAD to be here. You absolutely cannot let his presence affect how you do on the test.
Once testing time was over, Professor Kim made an announcement.
“This semester, we haven’t had any group projects yet. So, in accordance, I decided to assign you all a partner project with your partners already picked out. Your assignment is to pick any topic and write a research paper on it, as well as a presentation. It’s due in two months from now.”
“Oh-and I forgot to mention–this project is worth 45% of your grade.”
The class groaned in unison.
“Okay, enough. Sophia and Rina.”
Your heart pounded. Partner project. Already picked out. 45% of your grade. Partner project. Partner project. Partner. Project. You’ve always hated group projects where the groups were already picked out. You’re too socially anxious for them.
You walked up to the front of the class, as Professor Kim handed you and Jake a paper. You turned to look at this supposed Jake guy, just to be met with the face of the guy who humiliated you.
“Oh it’s you! How was last night?” he asked, with a cocky smirk.
You felt your fists curl up. This absolute fucking asshole. He knows exactly what he’s doing. You can’t keep letting him get to you; you have a whole project with him.
“It was terrible, thanks for asking,” you snapped immediately.
He chuckled. “Alright, that’s enough, princes–”
“Don’t call me that!” you shrieked.
A few heads turned in your direction. You felt your ears and neck going red. You were absolutely mortified. You don’t know what caused you to react like that, but Jake seemed to take the hint. He looked taken aback for a second but immediately replaced it with his usual cocky smirk.
“Jeez. Okay. Sorry. Anyways, as I was saying, can I get your number? Y’know, for the project,” he asked.
He gave you his phone and you typed in your number and contact.
“So, uh do you wanna meet tomorrow at the library? Anytime works for me,” you asked, quite shyly, as if you didn’t just yell at him in front of the whole lecture a few seconds ago.
He noticed your snappy mask slipping off and chuckled to himself. He was enjoying seeing you all flustered, which irritated you more than anything.
“7 works for me. See you!” he replied.
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“That absolute fucking asshole,” you muttered to yourself.
“Jesus, why are you so fucking pissed?” Manon, your roommate, asked.
You looked up at her, just noticing that she’d been here the entire time. You were back in your dorm, working on some paper.
“Jake. I fucking hate him. And he’s my partner. For this stupid project. Kill me, Manon please,” you explained.
“Jake? Jake Sim?” she inquired.
“I think? I don’t know his last name. But what I do know, is that he’s a piece of shit. He’s annoying and entitled and thinks humiliating people is the funniest thing in the world.” you replied.
“Oh yeah, that’s the one. What’d he do?” she asked.
“Be an absolute fucking asshole. He’s just–” you cut yourself off, because you know how childish you’ll sound.
“Suit yourself. He’s hot as fuck though. Just letting you know. He’s always sleeping with so many girls for a reason. I’d lowkey let him hit.” she replied nonchalantly.
“Manon! I don’t care about getting in his pants! He’s disgusting and I fucking hate him! I don’t want anything to do with him!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exasperation.
“Don’t lie. You know he’s hot.” she continued, a mischievous smile creeping up her face.
“Whatever,” you muttered and left the living room.
What bothered you was that what Manon said wasn’t exactly wrong, and that’s the problem. He is incredibly attractive. But that’s not your priority right now, considering that he’s an absolute asshole.
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You almost forgot about your meeting with Jake today. You absolutely cannot embarrass yourself in front of him again. That’ll just give him the satisfaction he wants. He’s probably a masochist. Or worse, a sadist. Or maybe he’s into dacryphilia–wait what? Why are you thinking about that? Ew, what the fuck.
You grab your bag, phone, keys, and head out the door.
“I’ll be back in a few hours! And if I’m not, Jake killed me!” you called out to Manon as you stepped out the door.
You walk to the library, each step feeling heavier than the last. You finally get there and it’s already 7:01. Jake is there, his laptop opened and his bag on the side. He’s wearing the same black hoodie you first met him in. He looked up as soon as he heard your footsteps coming closer.
“Hi, princess. You’re late.” he greeted, with a smirk.
It’s too early for this. You also can’t yell, you’re in a fucking library. You can’t lose your shit this early into the meeting.
“We’re doing cognitive biases and shortcuts.” you stated, trying to stay calm.
“What?” he blinked, confused.
You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance.
“I said, we’re doing cognitive biases and shortcuts. For the project.” you repeated.
“Damn alright. You didn’t even ask me what we should do,” he addressed.
“Well, do you have any better ideas?” you deadpanned, trying not to roll your eyes.
“Anyways. The first thing I thought we could explain is confirmation bias. We could then use that to–”
“Damn, and to think you’re the same person who also burst into tears trying to ask me to ‘turn down the volume,’” he remarked, amused.
You went still. This was the one thing you were hoping with all your heart, wouldn’t happen. You were taken back to that night, your anxiety bubbling. You ignored him, that was the easiest way to disregard him. You don’t know even why your hurt and frustration are always on the brink of explosion whenever you’re around him, never anyone else.
“Are you just going to ignore everything I say?” Jake inquired.
“Well, so far, everything you’ve said is irrelevant and pure bullshit, so, yes.” you explained.
He chuckles under his breath.
“As I was saying, starting with confirmation bias. A brief summary of confirmation bias is when someone searches for information that supports their already existing beliefs.” you stated.
“Is that how you’re planning to write it?” Jake questioned.
“Obviously not. Only in the summary section.” you answered, voice even.
“That’s too simple. You’re leaving out the part of how that’s bad. It sounds like you’re just saying that finding evidence to support your opinion is bad.” Jake continues.
“Yeah, which is why I said ALREADY EXISTING beliefs. It insinuates that the belief was made before the evidence was found.” you countered.
“That’s not exactly wrong, though. You’re allowed to find evidence that supports your already existing beliefs.” Jake replies.
He’s right. You ARE allowed to find evidence that supports your already existing beliefs. You have to bring up how people with confirmation bias ignore valid points that counter their own bias.
“We’ll also write about how confirmation bias causes one to ignore objective points.” you said after a moment.
As soon as those words left your mouth, Jake looked up. You know he wants you to acknowledge that he was right, but you are not planning to give that asshole an ounce of satisfaction.
“I think you’re missing something,” Jake says with a smile that makes you want to slap it off his pretty face.
“I was right!” Jake teases.
“Don’t make it a big deal. We’re not ten, stop acting like it.” you reply, annoyed.
“If you say so,” Jake chuckled.
You and him continue to type in silence for the next hour. You check your phone, 8:30. It’s already been an hour and a half.
“I think we should head out now. The library’s gonna close soon.” you interrupted the silence.
“Right. See you later, princess.” he waved.
“I told you not to call me that, Jake.” you hissed.
And with that you gathered your things and left for your dorm. You could hear Jake shuffling around, but you don’t bother to say bye to him. Not after you were thinking that he’s not as bad as you assumed, he just had to ruin it. You don’t even hate the nickname, it’s cute. Princess. It’s the fact that he was so condescending about it the first time. You hate being spoken to in a condescending manner. It makes you feel like how you did when you were a child trying to speak up, just to get shut down by older, louder voices. You hate it. And when you yelled at Jake that day during the lecture, you embarrassed yourself. Again. He enjoys humiliating you to see your reaction. It makes you want to grab his face and slap that stupid smirk off. You hate him.
Once you reach your dorm, Manon is eating sushi on the couch.
“I got you some, by the way. I assumed you’d barely have time to eat, so here.” Manon gestured.
“Thank you so much, Manon! Seriously, I really needed this. Like genuinely, I was about to fucking explode out of anger.” you rejoiced.
“Damn, was it really that bad?” Manon giggled.
“YOU’RE FUCKING JAKE?” Manon blurted.
“WHAT? NO! What the fuck, Manon?” you jumped, taken aback.
“Figure of speech, Manon. Oh my god. Anyways, as I was saying, Jake was being a fucking asshole, as usual. I arrived one minute late and he was being all snarky about it. Then, we argued about something for a while and I realized he was right, but obviously I can’t admit that. So I just offered a suggestion to correct my mistake. He got all cocky about it. Tried to make me say that he was right, out loud. It was fine after that, but right as we were about to leave, he called me Princess.” you grumbled.
“He sounds fucking annoying, but he calls you princess? Weird.” Manon admitted.
“Wait no. He doesn’t mean it like that. He says it to piss me off. It’s condescending.” you corrected.
“You sure?” Manon inquired, wiggling her eyebrows.
She gave you a look of knowing.
“Shut up and eat your sushi,” you mumbled.
Manon burst out in laughter. There’s no way in hell that Jake would have a thing for you, as Manon would call it. Even if he did, he’d probably only want you to have sex. You don’t want that.
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The next morning, you sit in your usual seat in the lecture hall. The far left, back row. You like this class, it’s calm. No one you have to speak to, no group or partner projects. You’re allowed to be lost in thought and zone out without anyone disturbing you or trying to get you to speak up.
You start taking notes on the lecture. You notice your rings. You’ve worn the same ones every single day since 7th grade, adding a few more every now and then. You felt a smile creep up on your face, thinking of 13-year-old you wearing these exact rings. You had sort of a “change” that year. That was the year you started wearing makeup. Not for fun, but because you felt you needed it. You’ve always been insecure with how you look. Wearing makeup made you feel like you were wearing the mask of a pretty person. People looked you in the eye when you spoke to them. People were kinder. Friendlier. Didn’t look at you like a piece of gum on the back of their shoe.
You feel your eyes getting wet and the lump in your throat getting harder to swallow. You, still to this day, don’t go out often without makeup. Some of your friends have never seen you bare-faced. You are so insecure, you were so insecure when it all started. You were just a little girl, after all. It didn’t help that even after you wore makeup, people would call you out for wearing too much. It hurt little 13-year-old you because it wasn’t strangers who were telling you this. It was your friends, family. People who were supposed to be the ones who defended you against the bitchy comments. But instead, they were the people making them.
But at the end of the day, underneath all the concealer, powder, lipgloss, mascara, blush, and whatnot was an insecure little girl. And sometimes, you still feel like her.
The sound of students shuffling out the class pulled you out of your thoughts. You quickly blink back your tears and walk out of the class. As soon as you step out, you feel a hand tapping your shoulder.
It’s Jake. Of-fucking-course. He looks more insufferable than usual today. Or maybe you’re just hangry. Whatever it is, Jake’s presence is not helping.
“What do you want?” you sigh, annoyed.
“What’s with the attitude? Pr–”
Your eyes widen as your jaw hangs open, shocked at what you just did. Jake’s expression mirrored your own with a tinge of pain. A few heads turned.
“Jesus Christ y/n! What the fuck was that for?” Jake fumed.
Great. Now he remembers your name.
“I-I don’t know. Oh my god, I’m so sor–bye.” you utter, mortified as you turn away and start speed walking to your dorm.
Why the fuck did you slap him? What is your problem? He was about to call you that godforsaken nickname again, so you resort to physical violence? This is the most out of character thing you’ve done since the time you yelled at Jake in the lecture hall!
You turn around, and sure enough, it was Jake. He looks slightly disheveled, his hair sticking up in awkward places, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and he’s out of breath. But the cherry on top is the bright red mark on his left cheek. You suddenly feel a surge of guilt, looking at him like this. You reach into your bag and pull out a towel and lotion. He watches you, confused.
“Jake, oh my god, I’m sorry, I don’t know why the fuck I did that I just–sorry.” you ramble as you step closer to him.
Neither of you had time to acknowledge the sudden proximity because you brought the towel up to his cheek and pressed on it. Why are you doing this? You hate him, you even slapped him to prove it.
You start applying lotion onto the mark and as you rub it in, you notice how awfully close you are to him, you could literally count his eyelashes from this distance. You immediately step back, mortified. What the fuck are you doing? Jake notices and decides to take this opportunity to question you.
“Y/N what are you doing? You slap me and now you’re taking care of me? What the fuck?” he cursed, but with no real bite in his tone.
“I-I’m not sure. I-uh–I gotta go.” you immediately reply, getting ready to run off again.
Jake immediately caught your wrist.
“You still didn’t let me explain,” he began, not letting go of your wrist.
You stay still, waiting for him to continue.
“Before you, well, slapped me, I was about to tell you that Professor Kim was changing the due date. It’s due in one month. I was gonna ask you what days you want to meet up for the next month.” he explained.
Oh shit. You felt another wave of guilt crash over you. He wasn’t about to call you princess, he was about to say Professor Kim.
“We meet Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 7. That works for you right?” you asked, quieter, wondering if he could smell the guilt gnawing at your chest.
“Yeah, that works. See you!” he concludes.
He turns around, bamboozled. This is the first time you’ve ever called or needed him for anything. Usually it was him calling you. For the third time this day, your instincts spoke and acted for you before thinking it through. Before you could fully process what just happened, you spoke.
“I’m sorry. About that.” you apologized, gesturing to his left cheek.
Jake, taken aback by your sudden kindness, wasn’t even mad.
“Don’t worry about it. See you!” he called out and left.
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Once you stepped inside your dorm, your legs collapsed. You were so tired. From Jake. Not for the usual reason, though. You were confused. Why did you feel so guilty after slapping him before finding out that he wasn’t going to call you princess? He would’ve deserved it, and you know it.
“Y/N! You’re back! Why do you look like that..” she trailed off, gesturing at your face.
“I slapped him. And was close enough to kiss him. He wasn’t even mad. What the fuck.” you said, emotionless.
“Yeah. What. The. Fuck.” Manon breathed, just as taken aback and slightly awestruck.
“And..I’m not even mad,” you admitted, more to yourself than to Manon.
“Hi! Are you going to explain what the fuck you meant by close enough to kiss him?” she inquired, losing patience.
You explained to Manon what you did. You emphasized that it was all purely out of impulse and that you have a good heart.
“Wow, y/n. After all that, you definitely have a reason to look like that. D-do you want to sit down?” she concluded.
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The air was much cooler than it usually was, reflecting your mood. Today’s Wednesday, meaning you’re seeing Jake again tonight. You are not excited. You never are. But especially not now.
Manon was out the entire day, so you were on your own until 7. You realized you haven’t eaten yet, and you were disgusted with yourself. You’re this nervous over a man? Over Jake? You mentally prepared yourself for the meeting at the library.
Thankfully, you were the first one. It’s 6:45, you’re extremely early. And that’s alright. You need to buy all the extra time you can get. You open your computer and start typing.
Jake eventually arrived and found you. He watched you type, so intensely, as if nothing could break you from your little trance.
“Hey! You already started? Wow, studious.” Jake remarked.
You say nothing. You don’t trust your mouth. You might call him hot. You might curse him out. Whatever it is, you don’t trust it.
“So, the next part we were planning to do was the Dunning-Kruger effect. I was thinking that we should start by finding an example of the phenomenon and then we explain why it happens.” Jake starts.
“You agree, right?” he asks.
“I’ll find an example of it and you can explain why it happens, deal?” he asks.
You hum in response and start typing. Jake raises an eyebrow, confused.
“Do you think this font is fine?” he questions, not because he needs an answer, but because he knows you wouldn’t like the font. He just wants to hear you talk.
You look at the font. He can’t be serious. It’s in the same league as those Medieval European cat drawings. You just change the font on your end; you refuse to speak to him.
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed in exasperation. You can’t be serious, he thought.
“What’s with the silence today, Princess?” he pesters.
You look up at him, heartbeat rising.
“Jake, if you call me that one more time, I will shove your dick up your ass and spit on your face.” you whisper-shouted.
“Aye, I got her to speak!” he exclaimed.
You slam your hands against the table. Hard. Jake flinches, but you ignore him. You start gathering your things hastily to leave, not even bothering to check if you’re grabbing the right things.
“Hey! Y/N! Wait! It’s only 7:45! We have to finish this!” he yells, not caring that he’s in a library.
You pay him no attention. You practically run out the library, tears of frustration pricking the corners of your eyes. You walk as fast as you can to your dorm, before the tears fall.
No. No fucking way. But you’re tired, your legs hurt from running, your head is already pounding, would it hurt to just stop and rest against the wall for a bit?
Jake eventually caught up to you and the first thing he registered were your eyes. They looked crazy, like you were either on the verge of breaking down or strangling the closest living thing you came in contact with.
“Hey. Y/N. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off that bad, I was just trying to get you to talk.” he apologizes sincerely.
“Yeah, right. Everything you do makes me fucking mad, Jake. I don’t like you, like, at all. I hate you.” you snarl.
Jake stares at you and you stare back. You could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of hurt pass through his eyes, but it left as soon as it came, you might as well have imagined it.
“Look, I know you’re mad, and I apologized, and you don’t have to accept it, but please for the sake of the project, don’t leave.” he pleads.
You look him up and down, and for the second time since you met him, the roles are reversed. Instead of him teasing you with his judgemental gaze, it’s you. If you do plan to change partners, who would you switch with? Most people already started, no one would be willing to switch. And you and Jake already got this far into the project, you can’t let those hours you already tolerated with him go to waste.
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You look at your phone, it’s a notification from Jake. Of course, he always found a way to disturb your peace. You put your phone face-down and ignore it.
“Y/N, are you gonna check that or not?” Manon hissed.
You and Manon are watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, her favorite movie. Your phone keeps interrupting, and at first, you both tried to ignore it, but now it’s getting hard to ignore.
“It’s just Jake.” you reply coolly.
“Well, respond? Or don’t, I don’t care. Leave your phone in the kitchen if he’s gonna keep disturbing us.” she shot back, getting irritated.
You think for a moment and decide to open his messages.
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): hey
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): y/n
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): helloo is this thing on?
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): anyways
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): yk how we talked about the dunning-kruger effect
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): well i was fixing the slides and i realized the first part of
the example you put doesn’t make sense
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): 😅
You click your tongue in annoyance. He’s either fucking stupid or he’s just looking for an excuse to talk to you.
You: jake are you fucking stupid
You: i used an example of children being fed propaganda so they believe that it is right how does that not make sense
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): well because that doesn’t necessarily mean that they have low level knowledge in the subject
You: it literally does tho?? if they’re being fed propaganda and they believe it they have a low level knowledge on it
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): ok fine you’re right y/n i’m wrong
What the fuck? Why did he admit fault so quickly? It’s almost as if he was expecting it. Waiting for it to happen. Is he trying to make you feel better about last night? Does he think you’re some untameable beast with anger issues that explodes at the smallest inconveniences?
You: jake. quit the act. u alr knew that
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): what ru talking about i just happened to be wrong sorry for bothering you
You: jake if this is about last night, forget it. stop trying to make me feel better or wtv ur doing. i’m not an explosive.
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): i never said that
You: it’s what ur insinuating. ik what ur doing jake. js stop. pretend last night never happened i forgive you ru happy now?
Annoying Dickhead (Jake): YES YES YES THANK YOU
You chuckle at his last text, he sounds so happy but stupid. You’d find it adorable if you didn’t hate his guts.
“Are ya’ll done?” Manon deadpans.
“Right. Sorry. We can finish the movie now!” you exclaimed, in a much lighter mood.
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You’re seeing Jake later today. Well, that was the first thought that crossed your mind when you woke up. Weird.
Manon’s going to be out the whole day, so you’re practically going to be bored out of your mind until 7.
You spent most of your day scrolling through Tiktok, looking at cute dog videos, and finishing some random assignment. You check your phone, 6:53. Holy fuck, you almost forgot your meeting up with Jake again today.
You somehow make it to the library in time, out of breath, hair sticking up in different directions, your makeup sweating off.
“Hey, p–y/n,” Jake greeted.
“So, I was thinking, we can add one more example of a cognitive bias before we prepare to present.”
“Yeah, actually, I was thinking the same exact thing. The Halo effect? Ever heard of that one?” you asked intently.
“I think? I probably heard of it. I dunno.” he answered honestly.
“Okay, well to put it simply it’s when people assume that a smart or attractive person is automatically a good person overall,” you explain.
He thinks for a moment, then says something.
“Don’t you think that’s too simple, though? Like it’s good but shouldn’t we write about something a little less self-explanatory?” he interjects.
“No shit. That’s why we tie in other concepts.” you deadpan, as if it was obvious.
Jake looked at you with his big, brown eyes, looking like a lost puppy. He clearly doesn’t understand. Of course he doesn’t. The guy looks like a fucking model.
“Of course you wouldn’t understand,” you mutter to yourself.
“What was that?” Jake questioned.
“Nothing.” you say quickly.
“No, you definitely said something. What do I not understand?” Jake asks sincerely, he isn’t even mad, just curious.
“Forget it, Jake.” you cut him off, using your tone of finality that usually told everyone that the conversation was over.
“No, y/n. You always do this. You say shit like that, and then regret it immediately and run away. I’m not dropping it.” he says in a tone harsher than he intended.
His words hit too close to home. You do always run away or retreat after doing or saying something jawdropping.
“Fine, Jake. Since you wanna know so badly, you’re fucking gorgeous. Genuinely one of the hottest guys I’ve seen since Zayn Malik. And the halo effect makes people assume that attractive people are automatically good. Attractive people get approached more, people tend to like them more. It’s pretty privilege, Jake. And some of us aren’t absolutely breathtaking and we get treated like shit for just existing. And–” you cut yourself off, realizing you’re taking it too far.
The tips of Jake’s ears have turned bright pink. Yet, he looked at you solemnly, not like he was pitying you, but rather a look that wanted you to continue. To practically vent, disregarding the project.
“No. Keep going.” Jake cut you off this time.
“I-well, there’s a reason a lot of people wear makeup everywhere. Because without it, they get treated like shit. They get asked if they’re tired, ‘what’s wrong?’ and a plethora of things. It’s exhausting. And literal kids go through this too. I was thirte–” you cut yourself off again, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak.
Oh shit. You’re crying. In front of Jake. Jake! Fucking Jake! Of all people! You immediately look away, wiping your eyes, hoping he didn’t notice. Yet, the tears aren’t stopping.
You’re about to excuse yourself when Jake grabs your hand.
“Hey, uh–it’s alright. You-you’re not ugly. You’re p-pretty…That was my first thought when I saw you. You weren’t wearing makeup when you knocked on my door telling me to turn down the volume. You’re pretty. And everyday since then, I’ve seen you wear makeup. And even now, with your makeup all smudged you’re still pretty. A-and, um yeah.”
You look up at him and through your teary eyes, you see his face. His usual smirk isn’t anywhere to be seen. He’s not pulling your leg.
“Oh, uh–thank you, Jake. I appreciate it. Really.” you look away as a fresh wave of tears soaks your face.
Jake, Jake Sim, being nice to you? What alternate reality did you accidentally shift to?
Jake sits there awkwardly for another minute, waiting for you to calm down, still holding your hand in his. You eventually calm down and realize you’re still holding his hand. You immediately pulled away, embarrassed.
“S-sorry,” you stammered.
“No need to apologize,” Jake chuckled softly.
You and Jake worked in silence for the next hour, occasionally breaking the silence to ask each other questions.
“Woah, it’s already 8:30. I’m gonna start wrapping it up here,” Jake says as he packs his things up.
“Alright. See you, Jake.” you wave him goodbye.
You stare at his back as he leaves, his figure getting smaller and smaller until he completely disappears. A strange feeling settles in your chest. All the times that Jake teased you, pissed you off, and made you want to punch him, he thought you were pretty? And he was actually…nice? He didn’t act embarrassed or try to shut you up. He wanted to listen. The image of Jake you’ve built in your head doesn’t match up to how he’s been today. Maybe he’s actually not a piece of shit. He’s confusing. And you hate confusing. Whatever.
You gather your things and head out the library, head spinning with possibilities.
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You decide to avoid any thoughts involving Jake until you have to see him again. Manon notices, like she notices almost everything.
“You good? Every time I bring him up, you change the topic. If he’s seriously bothering you that much, switch partners.” Manon reasoned, concern laced in her voice.
“I’m fine.” you respond, ending the conversation with a tone of finality that hinted to Manon not to press further.
You walk to the kitchen, pulling out a packet of instant noodles. Instant noodles, you’ve always liked them. They’re simple to make and pretty hard to fuck up. They’re straight to the point and don't make things unnecessarily complicated. It sounds silly, but you’ve always wished you could be more like that. Simple. Straight to the point. But that has never been you. You’ve always been complicated, not that you meant to, but your social anxiety would make things harder than they had to be. You’d say things by accident, out of fear. You’d realize you never meant them and just confuse everyone around you. You’ve never been direct about anything. You wait for people to start resenting you for it, and when they do, you’re not surprised. And when they don’t, you push them away anyway, leaving them confused.
The instant noodles are done. You’re forced out of your thoughts as you take the noodles out of the microwave.
“Y/N! Y/N!” Manon called.
“What? I’m in the kitchen,” you called back.
Manon stopped right in front of you, a mischievous smile on her face. You know this look all too well. She’s going to ask you for something, you’ll decline, she’ll beg, and you’ll give in. That’s how it always goes.
You sigh, waiting for her request.
“Come with me. To the party. At Evan’s place.” she said.
Parties? Everyone and their mother knows that you don’t do parties. You hate how loud they are, how insufferable frat guys are, and the smell of weed and alcohol makes you sick. Not to mention, you hate social settings.
“When have I ever shown even a slight interest in parties, Manon?” you ask.
She looks up at you once more, her big, brown puppy eyes boring into your eyes.
“I know, it’s just this once! I’ve never asked you to come with me to any parties before, I’m your best friend! Pleaseeeeee, we won’t stay for long,” she pleaded.
You hate this. You hate how you always give in to whatever Manon asks. She’s your best friend, you’d do anything for her, even if it means going to a sweat-filled frat house.
Manon squeals, pulling you into a bear hug.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll help you pick out what to wear, I’ll help you with everything! Thank you, I really thought you’d say no!” Manon rejoiced.
“I was about to..” you mutter under your breath.
Manon drags you to her room and sits you on her bed.
“Okay. You are definitely not wearing,” she gestures toward your half-beaten middle school Science Olympiad hoodie, “that.”
“Obviously not. I wasn’t planning on coming.” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.
She pulls out a short black dress. It’s low cut with spaghetti straps and would probably fall right under your ass.
“And this one’s for you!” Manon rejoiced.
You stare at her with an incredulous look. She can’t be serious.
“Absolutely fucking not.” you say immediately.
Manon’s smile drops so fast, it’s almost comical. You feel a little bad, because then again, what’s wrong with stepping out of your comfort zone?
“Oh. It’s fine, then. I’m so–”
“No! I mean, yes, I’ll wear it.” you say before you can change your mind.
You take the dress from her hands and hold it. It feels so light and airy, like the epitome of freedom.
You go to the bathroom and slip the dress on. The dress exposes your cleavage and most of your legs. It hugs your curves perfectly. You take a glance in the mirror, the reflection of you looking unrecognizable. The dress feels exactly like how you imagined it to. It’s light and airy, allowing you to breathe easier but for the first time, you felt mature. Sexy. Hot.
You step out of the bathroom, feeling like a new person.
“OH. MY. GOD. You look so fucking hot, I’m gonna faint!” she squeals, pressing a hand to her forehead, feigning lightheadedness.
“Stop it, you’re making me blush!” you giggle.
“No, I’m serious. If I was a guy, I’d let you hit. Fuck that, I’d let you hit as a girl. Hashtag, wuh luh wuh!” she jokes.
You and her burst out in laughter. For the first time in ages, your chest feels lighter. You both step out of your room and make your way to Evan’s house. You feel oddly excited, excited in a way you’ve never felt for a party.
“This is it.” Manon announces.
You look at the house before you. It’s big, too big for a college student. It’s protected with an open gate decorated in pearls. You stay behind Manon as you both make your way to the door.
“Hey! You made it!” a tall man with a deep voice greets as he ushers you inside.
“Hi, Riki! Of course, I made it, I could never miss it.” Manon laughs.
“And you must be y/n, I’m assuming?” the tall man, who now you know goes by Riki, asks.
“Oh, yeah! That’s me.” you reply awkwardly.
He looks you up and down before leading both you and Manon to one of the couches. The scent of cheap alcohol invades your nostrils as loud party music pierces your eardrums.
“Hey! Sophia!” Manon exclaims.
A pretty girl with sharp eyes and straight hair makes her way towards you and Manon. You recognize her immediately. She’s in one of your classes, the one with Ja–nevermind that.
“Hey, Manon. Y/N? I didn’t know you party,” Sophia says.
“Hey, Sophia, yeah they’re not really my thing, but Manon over here really wanted me to join so,” you chuckle as Manon glares at you.
Sophia and Manon slip into their own conversation as you take a seat on the couch, feeling somewhat alright. Your heart wasn’t beating at a rate of seventy-five miles per minute, which is surprising, considering you’re in a place you’d consider a social hellhole.
“Hey, y/n. I’m guessing you’re not a party person, huh?” Riki asks, as he takes a seat next to you.
“No, is it really that obvious?” you chuckle.
Riki laughs before taking a sip of whatever concoction is in his red solo cup. For the first time in a while, you feel bold. Not like the shy girl you’ve been for the past twenty one years.
“Yo, Riki!” a loud voice booms from behind you.
He takes a seat across from you and the boldness you’ve felt immediately slipped away. He’s with a pretty girl you recognize. Jennifer. Jennifer Huh. You two were best friends back in middle school.
“Jennifer? Is that you?” you blurt out.
All three faces turn to look at you. You regret it immediately and mentally curse yourself. For someone with social anxiety, you do seem to do a lot of acting before thinking.
Jennifer looks at you and something behind her eyes lights up immediately.
“Y/N? I haven’t seen you in so long! Oh my god!” Jennifer squeals as she pulls you into a hug.
“You’re y/n?” the man who Jennifer was with suddenly interrupted.
You look up at him, suddenly feeling shy again.
“Yeah, that’s me.” you practically whisper. How did all these people know you? You barely talk to anyone.
The man snorts. “You do not sound like someone who constantly loses their shit and yells out of nowhere.”
You look at the man, who you now know is Evan, shocked. What the fuck is he talking about?
The air around you feels tight and awkward. You want to run away.
“You wanna grab a drink?” Riki asks you, saving you from the awkwardness.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” you say a little too quickly.
You follow Riki into the kitchen as he starts pouring a mixture of two drinks into a red solo cup. You watch him, intrigued.
“You drink, right?” he asks, for confirmation.
“Oh yeah. Of course.” you respond.
He hands you the drink. It smells strong. You take a cautious sip as he watches you with an expression awaiting.
It tastes extremely tangy. Just how you like them. It’s slightly sweet, just enough to make the tanginess bearable. It’s awfully strong, though. The alcohol in this drink could be enough to take out three adults! Your face crumples slightly at the flavor.
“That good, huh?” Riki chuckles.
You slap his arm playfully.
“It’s strong. How much alcohol is in this?” you question.
“A lot. If you end up finishing that you’ll be well over tipsy,” he answers.
You take another sip. You already feel your limbs loosening.
“Also. Sorry about earlier.” Riki apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck.
You blink, confused. Oh. Right. What Evan said.
“It’s fine. I honestly don’t know what he was talking about. Never seen him once in my life, by the way.” you joke.
Riki smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Something wrong?” you ask him.
“Do you hate Jake?” he asks suddenly.
You’re taken aback, not sure if you’re hearing him right.
“Sorry?” you respond, utterly confused.
“My bad. Shouldn’t have asked that.” he grins sheepishly.
The truth hits you like a truck. Evan and Riki are Jake’s friends. He probably told them about you. They probably think you’re some mentally unstable madwoman. The air feels tight all of a sudden. Riki seems to notice your shift in demeanor.
“Hey. Don't worry about it. Seriously.” he attempts at reassurance.
But it doesn’t work. He’s scared you’re going to blow up on him, just like you did to Jake. You don’t respond, but you take another sip. Riki looks at you, an expression of terror flicking across his face. You notice immediately.
“Stop looking at me like a lost baby duck. I’m not gonna kill you, y’know,” you tease, and you don’t regret it. The alcohol in your system removed your filter.
He chuckles. “‘Course not.”
“Wanna dance?” you say, casually.
Riki looks confused for a second before smiling.
“Sure, why not!” he replies.
You practically drag him to the dance floor. You don’t even know how you found it, but you somehow did. Riki’s hands find your waist as yours wrap around his neck. The song playing is a slow song, so you both start swaying to the beat.
You look up at him once more and notice how close you are to him. His eyes flick down to your lips and back. You look at him more intently. His eyes are full of need, like all he needs is for you to reciprocate. His lips are bright pink and extremely plump. Kissable. You tilt your head up and notice his eyes are still on your lips. You step on your tip-toes and lean forward, as he reciprocates. Your faces are so close, you can feel his breath against your lips. Your heartbeat races, realizing that his plump lips are about to be on yours–
You and Riki immediately jump apart. A figure starts walking–no–running up to you. Is that–
Jake’s gaze flicks from you to Riki, his expression stony. Riki stares back, mirroring Jake’s mien. You don’t notice, you’re too focused on the fact that Jake just had to interrupt your moment.
“What the fuck do you want, Jake?” you blurt out.
Jake stumbles forward, grabbing your arm. Riki steps back, resigned. He drags you upstairs and sits on the stairs.
“What the fuck was that about, Jake?” you interrogate.
He looks at you, his eyes slightly hazy. Great. He’s drunk. You don’t care though, you’re also drunk.
“I don’t want you to be around him,” he mutters quietly.
“I said, I don’t want you to be around him!” he slurs.
“Why do you care, Jake?” you shoot back.
He looks up at you and stands up. You’re confused, but you do the same.
“He’s not good for you, y/n.” he counters dryly.
“Why would you know what’s good for me?” you yell.
You’ve backed up onto the wall now, his face only inches away. It gives you a strange sense of déjà vu, from the time you slapped him. He’s breathing hard, as if your words punched him.
You giggle. “Oh, I get it. You’re jealous.”
“Damn right I am.” he growls.
His eyes flick down to your lips as his tongue darts out and he licks his own. A surge of impulse takes you over and you lift your head up off the wall. You crash your lips onto his. You feel his breath hitch against your mouth in shock before he kisses you back. His mouth moves against yours like he’s hungry–scratch that–STARVING. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, the kiss turning messier by the second.
He backs you up into an empty room and you feel your knees buckle against the bed. You fall backwards as Jake lands right above you, not breaking the kiss. If anything, it becomes more desperate. He sits up, pulling you onto his lap, straddling him. You feel his bulge rub against your clit. You wore nothing but your panties under your dress, so every little touch sent a jolt of need through your body.
You pull back from the kiss, gasping for air. You look at Jake, his lips glistening with the mixture of his and your spit. His eyes are filled with an undeniable hunger as his chest heaves up and down. His head ducks down and he starts planting sloppy kisses against your neck and collarbone. You grind your hips experimentally against his and you feel him groan against the nape of your neck.
“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whines.
You take that as a sign to keep going. With each roll of your hips, you get more needy. And so does Jake. He grips your ass and looks straight in your eyes.
“Can I?” he pleads. You nod.
He yanks your panties off in one swift motion. His veiny hands find your clit and he starts tracing small circles.
“So wet. Already..” he chuckles to himself.
You feel your face burn up.
“And you think I didn’t notice you getting hard?” you shoot back at him.
His circles against your clit turn more aggressive.
“Already arguing, even now, huh?” he smiles.
You feel yourself getting wetter at his words. He pulls his hand off your clit, looking into your eyes once more.
“I know you’re hungry, Jake. Go ahead.” you say before he has the chance to ask.
He wastes no time and immediately lowers his head and you feel the tip of his nose–his perfectly sculpted nose–brush against your clit, sending a jolt of lust through your veins. His tongue darts out and starts licking your slick folds. The sensation of his tongue licking you all over, along with his nose rubbing against your swollen clit was becoming too much.
“J-Jake! G-gonna cum!” you choke out.
“Then cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you.” he murmurs against your pussy.
You feel the tight coil in your stomach finally release as your pussy goes numb and starts pulsing. Jake slurps up every drop of your release immediately. You lay there for a moment, dazed.
You look over at Jake, who’s laying down with a look on his face you’ve never seen. A sudden realization washes over you. Oh no. Oh no. You just let Jake eat you out. You sit up, scrambling around, looking for your panties.
“Woah, what are you doing?” Jake asks, amused. He clearly doesn’t understand the storm of emotions raging inside your head.
“We shouldn’t have done that.” you tremble.
Jake’s expression immediately drops. His countenance is now just pure panic.
“No. Y/N. Don’t do that. Please. Don’t run away again.” he begs.
You look at him once more, his body language showing pure terror. You feel your eyes fill with tears of regret and guilt. Jake notices.
“Y/N, no. Don’t cry, please. Don’t run away, you don’t actually hate me. And you know it! Don’t run. Please.” His voice cracks on the last word.
“Jake, you have a certain reputation! And you know it! I don’t even know why I did it! I don’t want to be another girl on your roster!” you sob as you sprint out the room, legs shaking.
Jake, who’s still in the room, is absolutely devastated. The girl he loves, thinking he isn’t looking for anything serious. That he just wants to get in her pants and leave. You couldn’t be further from the truth. He feels his throat closing up as his vision starts blurring. His shoulders start shaking as he sobs, his tears wetting his face, eyes going red.
You’re running down the stairs, scanning the entire room for Manon. You have to leave, now. You see Jennifer in your peripheral vision. No, please, please, do not strike up a conversation. You aren’t in the mood to talk to anyone.
“Hey! Y/N!” a voice from behind you greets.
You turn around. It’s Jennifer. The moment she registers your tear-streaked face, her expression drops.
“Oh my god, y/n, what happened? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” she pesters.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just need to find Manon. Do you know where she is?” you ask, trying to not let your voice waver too much.
You spot Manon right behind Jennifer. You immediately walk over to her, but–oh. She’s a little busy, making out with Sophia. There’s no way you’re interrupting her makeout session, so you pull out your phone to text her.
You: manon
You: we need to leave
You: like rn please
You: ik ur a lil busy
You: i won’t interrupt that’s why i’m texting
You: but when you’re done can we leave pls
You: i can’t stay here any longer
You: i don’t know what i just did
You walk back over to Jennifer, who’s looking at you like you might explode.
“Wh-what’s wrong?” she asks cautiously.
You try your best not to snap at her, she only has good intentions, after all.
“It’s just personal problems. I have to wait for Manon before we can leave.” you say.
Jennifer says nothing, which you’re grateful for. Her presence alone, grounds you. She’s always been like this. Whenever you were distressed, she would comfort you by simply existing. It was nice. It is nice.
Eventually, you notice Manon walking over to you. Her eyes are bright, full of excitement, and you feel guilty for making her leave early.
“Hey–oh my god, what’s wrong?” she gulped, the brightness in her eyes disappearing, now filled with worry.
You both leave the house and head to your apartment. The walk there is silent and she doesn’t pester you with questions. Thank goodness, because you would’ve completely broken down on some stranger’s driveway.
Once you’re at the apartment, Manon pulls you into a hug, and you immediately break down. Tears are streaming down your face, soaking her dress. She doesn’t care about that, thankfully. You tell her what happened at the party.
“I’m so fucking confused, Manon,” you sob.
Her expression shifts. Slightly, but you notice it.
“Well, I don’t understand why you’re confused. He’s an asshole who just wants to have sex with you,” she deadpans.
Right. You never told her about that night in the library.
“Well, that’s what I thought initially, but we were talking about the halo effect and that led to me explaining pretty privilege and then my insecurities, don’t ask, you know how I get carried away sometimes. But anyways, I kinda started crying and he was being kind? He even confessed that he thought I was pretty. It was so weird but also nice.” you rant.
Manon pauses, processing the information. “He’s confusing as shit. And I know you don’t do confusing. So, just wait for him to confess and that should tell you if he truly does like you. Until then, leave it.”
That makes sense. If he really wanted to, he would.
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You’re awoken by your pounding head and the too-bright sun shining down on you. You look around, confused, until the events of last night resurface in your memory. The party, Riki, Jake, all of it. You check your phone, 11:49. It’s a Wednesday. You’re seeing Jake again at 7. You groan, he’s the last person you want to see along with your hangover.
You: hi jake i’m not feeling too well, i won’t be coming to the library at 7 today, sorry
Part of you knows that you’re not coming to avoid Jake. Because you’d obviously feel better by SEVEN PM. But you don’t want to see Jake after last night. You honestly don’t know how you’re going to face him at all.
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Jake wakes up, every inch of his body aching. He stares at the wall for a while, processing the events of last night. The image of you yelling at him, telling him you don’t want to be another girl on his roster, is permanently etched into his mind. He’s still shaken, unsure on how he’s going to face you. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he’s planning to be quiet most of the time and only talk if it’s mandatory. And he will clarify to you that you’re not another girl on his roster. That, he’s sure of. He doesn’t have a fucking roster, for god’s sake. He checks his phone, 10:09. Okay. Good. He has enough time to emotionally prepare himself to see you again today.
He gets out of bed and gets dressed. He’s used to the feeling of a hangover, so it doesn’t bother him that much. Also, his motivation to see you might just be another factor.
Just as he’s about to go to the gym, he gets a notification. It’s you.
gf who doesn’t know she’s my gf yet 💕: hi jake i’m not feeling too well, i won’t be coming to the library at 7 today, sorry
His heart drops. No. Wait. You could just be having a really nasty hangover. Right? No, that can’t be right. You’d be fine by seven. You’re avoiding him. The truth settles heavy and unpleasant in his chest.
Jake responds with shaky hands.
Me: it’s fine, don’t worry about it. take all the time you need
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Annoying Dickhead (Jake): it’s fine, don’t worry about it. take all the time you need
Wow. That was quick. You don’t remember Jake ever replying that fast. Weird. And he’s being nice about it? Why is he so confusing? You look at his message once more before reacting to it with a thumbs up.
You spend the rest of the day eating ice cream and some sad shows, the pained feeling in your chest not lifting.
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BRIING. BRIIING. BRIIIING.
You groan. It’s your fuckass alarm. You check the time, it’s 10:48. You have a class at 11:00. Oh shit. You don’t have any time to take a shower AND do your makeup AND get to class in time. You feel a sharp pain in your abdomen. No. Don’t start. You just got you’re fucking period!
You rush around, taking as many painkillers you can find while simultaneously putting on a little makeup. You don’t have time to do your whole routine, after all.
You rush out the door, and practically sprint to the lecture hall, making it just in time. 11:01. You plop down in some random seat, not caring who’s sitting next to you. You groan, your cramps making you squirm in your seat. Sophia, who’s next to you gives you a concerned glance.
“Y/N? You okay?” she inquires.
You nod, but she doesn’t look convinced.
“Manon told me you guys had to leave early. Everything okay? You looked a little..uh..distressed..?” she continues.
You start feeling guilty. Not only did you disturb Manon’s time, but also Sophia’s. You wish your seat could turn inside out and swallow you whole.
“Actually, don’t worry about it!” Sophia goes on, clearly concerned.
You’re grateful that she doesn’t ask any more questions. Your cramps are making it hard to form coherent sentences. And these fucking painkillers aren’t doing shit.
As soon as your class ends, you stumble out and go straight home. You seriously start thinking about going into a coma every time you get your period. The cramps are fucking hell. Wait a minute. It’s a Friday. Oh fuck. You’re supposed to meet Jake again today. But your cramps are unbearable. You could cancel, but you already cancelled on him on Wednesday. It really wouldn’t be a good look for you. Maybe you could sleep your cramps away? You set an alarm for 6:30 and fall into a deep slumber.
You groan, clutching your side as you roll out of bed. This is going to be one long study session.
You somehow make it to the library at 7:04.
“Hey,” Jake greets cautiously, not mentioning your delay.
You nod at his greeting and start working. You and him work in silence for about ten minutes until you feel a sharp pain in your side. You stop typing for a moment, trying your hardest to stay still. You accidentally let out a whimper, causing Jake to look up from his screen and lock eyes with you.
“Uh-y/n? You good?” Jake asks, concerned.
You say nothing, but your eyes widen in fear. No. No, no, no. Not here. You feel your stomach churn and you know what’s about to happen. You stand up abruptly and sprint to the bathroom. As soon as you reach the toilet, your knees give out as you start throwing up violently. Your body trembles with each gag.
Suddenly, you hear footsteps entering the bathroom. Oh fuck. You didn’t close the door. You shut your eyes, hoping that you’re just imagining things, but you don’t have time, as you start retching again.
“Shh. It’s alright,” a familiar voice whispers next to you. It’s Jake. He’s holding your hair back as he rubs small circles into your back. His touch is comforting, something you’ve been craving for a long time. You lean into him, and feel heat creep up your neck. This is the rawest version of yourself anyone has ever seen. Let alone, Jake. He notices, and he pulls you into his arms. You can hear his heartbeat, slow and steady, against your head, providing you comfort.
“Okay. Let’s get you home. You’re not staying here any longer.” Jake softly whispers, breaking the silence without startling you.
He helps you up off the bathroom floor and walks you out the library to his car. You didn’t bring anything but your laptop, so he carries it himself, along with his bag. He sits you into the passenger seat of his car and starts driving.
You arrive at your apartment, completely dazed. He tucks you into your own bed, way too intimately to brush off as “friendly” or “caring.” But you’re in too much pain to notice. You doze off, and Jake watches you for a moment. Your composure has completely slipped, and this is the most vulnerable he’s ever seen you. Nothing like the girl who cussed him out for calling you a princess. He eventually leaves, his heart full of unspoken thoughts.
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You blink, your eyes slowly opening. You look around, and you’re in bed. You don’t remember when or how you got here. Oh. The events of the previous night suddenly crash through you.
“Y/N? You awake? Are you feeling okay?” a voice calls out.
You try to find your voice, but it’s a bit weak.
Manon walks over and sits on the edge of your bed.
“Hey. You seemed pretty out of it last night. Glad you’re doing better now,” she remarks, patting your ankle.
“Jake came in actually. I don’t know if you remember, since you were, like, super tired or something. He told me that you randomly started whimpering mid-study session. And then violently throwing up everywhere. But he took you home. And tucked you in bed. He didn’t have to do that, but he insisted.” Manan tells you.
Your jaw hangs open in horror. You’ve always been so determined on not embarrassing yourself in front of Jake, and ended up doing the most embarrassing thing you could think of. It’s like the universe is playing some kind of cruel joke on you. Your head drops into your hands and you mumble something incoherent.
Manon laughs. “Y’know, you should probably thank Jake. Or say something to him, at least.”
She’s right. He did something that not even your horrendous ex-boyfriend back in high school would have ever done. You feel a wave of motivation curse through you as you practically jump out of bed.
“Woah, slow down there. Must be real excited to see Jake, I suppose. Never thought that’d ever come out of my mouth, but here we are.” Manon giggles.
“I am actually, and I can’t believe I’m saying that!” you exclaim as you get dressed.
Once you’re done, you leave. You don’t know exactly what you’re going to say to him, but you know for sure that you aren’t going to embarrass yourself again.
You finally arrive at his apartment and knock on the door as soon as you can, leaving yourself no time to run, just in case you regret it. You wait for a moment, and the door swings open.
Sure enough, it’s Jake. He’s wearing a black hoodie, jeans, and a backwards cap. You’re hit with a surge of déjà vu from the first time you met. You smile at the thought.
“Oh! Y/N! Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be here. How’re you feeling?” he asks, his voice slightly higher than usual.
“Jake, I just wanted to say thank you. You really didn’t have to do what you did, it means a lot to me. Seriously.” you say.
“Of course, you looked like you were on the verge of passing out, I couldn’t just leave you there!” he scrambles, trying to come up with an excuse.
You remember what Manon said that other night. You feel a surge of confidence. “And Jake. About that other night. I-I’m sorry. I was scared. For the future. About us. I was scared that you didn’t care. Which I was completely wrong about. And I’m sorry. Can we–try again?”
Jake stares at you for a very long second. His expression changes from shock to confusion to relief to excitement. You almost think about taking your words back, when he lets out a high-pitched giggle. A sound you never thought would come from him. You laugh back. He pulls you into his arms and spins you around.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, oh my god, I love you so fucking much,” rejoices.
“Jake! Put me down!” you giggle.
He puts you down reluctantly and stares at you, as if he can’t believe you’re real, standing right in front of him. Then he kisses you. It’s nothing like the first time. It’s sweet, speaking for every unspoken word, and tender. You pull back first, to get another look at him. His entire face is flushed pink.
“I love you, Jake,” you say, cupping his cheeks.
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