Sfw | triggers: alcohol, shitty boyfriend, shitty boyfriends friends, minor mention of underage drinking.
Chapter one: Jacob, the most mediocre boyfriend™
You had met Jacob at a cramped, loud, and sweaty frat party in your Freshman year at college. He was a year older, and you thought he was so cool with his beer pong and backwards cap.
By the time things started popping up you two had already moved in together. How he never cleaned his dishes, or knew how to load a dishwasher. He’d leave his laundry all over the floor, and left empty Zyn tins wherever he went. All clogged with the old chewed tobacco leaving a gag worth smell behind.
That wasn't even the start of it all. Yet, he was Six feet, and had a voice that could bend you over whenever he said the right thing. So you had ignored it. The sex was decent enough, he was average but god it was thin. Nevertheless, you stayed, with all the stink, the sweat, and the victim blaming, you stayed.
You stayed all the way to your Junior year. Deep enough you were Dependent on what little rent he contributed, and addicted to him. It was bad, and as time went on, everything slowly rolled downhill and rolled faster and faster.
Jacob majoring in finance, dragging his grades to barely above passing (you don’t think you’ve ever seen him actually do any assignments), and his friend group would always host the parties in your shared apartment, buying freshman alcohol like he did to you, and you locking yourself in the cramped and hot bathroom and praying the music wouldn’t break through your headphones.
He had them every Friday, they were exhausting. You had begged him not to throw one this Friday, as you had your midterms to study for, and you couldn't have any distractions. Not the beer all over the floor, not the playboi carti blasting, not the sweaty tanktops with sleeves as low as their v line, you needed complete peace.
“Trust me, babe. I won’t. I’ll ask to hold one at Kalem’s.” He told you, with the softest kiss to your forehead.
Now, an hour or so later, you were locked in your bathroom, again, with the music bleeding through your headphones. He didn’t even apologize. He just let everyone in and left you to find refuge on your own.
You had your headphones thrown on the floor, and your head in your hands, as you gave up studying a long time ago. You were tired, and sweaty, and the bathroom smelled like barf. You needed to talk to Jacob in the morning. God if he’d even listen. Just as you were running the same speech in your head, just through the music you heard the faintest of voices.
“Hello? Is anyone in there? I-I see the light on I-” You flung the door open, for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight.
“Make it quick, and god please flush the toilet.” You spat out before your eyes even focused. Someone new. Your face changed.
“Oh you’re Jacobs girlfriend, aren't you?” He blinked. He had the softest eyes you had ever seen. In the yellow light of the bathroom, you could make out the hair that almost looked too perfect, and the small freckles along his face. He looked so sweet. You could see him process this for a second. “O-oh uh-” He sifted the solo cup in his other hand, “I’m kellon, but uh, Jacob and them call me Kip.” He smiled nervously, held his hand out.
He seemed surprisingly sober for being at one of Jacob's parties. Your eyes narrowed slightly before shaking his hand. It was clammy, you almost made a face when you felt the moist contact with your own hand. He seemed sweet, and though the smell of alcohol and weed on his clothes, you could smell laundry detergent and the faintest scent of cologne.
“But uh, I-i do actually have to use the bathroom, if you don’t mind.” He withdrew his hand after it lingered just a second.
“My statement still stands,” you walked past him, leaving the doorway open. “Please flush.”
He chuckled nervously, “Was planning on it.” The door clicked. You hummed, he was sweet, he was nicer than most of Jacob's other friends, with the constant sex jokes (“you Jacob when can we have that threesome you promised us?!” Whenever you walked into a room) or the empty beer can you found in your underwear drawer, and the missing underwear you hoped to god you had just lost. So it was safe to say you hoped you’d see him around.
