#and I cant tell if he is going to love him

[femmeftal]

˖ ⁺ ✧ Punk tactics !

pairings ✧ : mohawk mark! x reader

warnings ✧ : breast fucking / tit job , groping, degrading, dirty talk ( sex scene is short n sloppy ) fem description.

normal! mohawk mark who is rebellious to his parents Debbie and Nolan, teaching his litter brother Oliver how to cause enough trouble just like him. even gifting Debbie with phone calls at his school reporting that he has gotten into another fight this weekend.

normal! mohawk mark who has some piercings on his face that he had done with a safety pin because his mom and dad wouldn’t allow him to, having at-least near 5 facial piercings ( including the tongue one )

normal! mohawk mark who ALSO has a secret tattoo right above his abdomen that has his initials in a gothic font, hot right? yea well it hurt a lot. bragging to his friends on how it’d be so easy to take a needle down there but nope he was wrong, and he got proven that.

normal! mohawk mark that hits on cute girls like you, naive and sassy. meeting you at one of his friends punk parties, you stood out the most. your clothing attire not even being comparable to these dweebs in the party. he had his share amount of girls and you were on of his favorites. . .

normal! mohawk mark that you cant help but to fall for, people telling you he isn’t the husband type but you could already tell. from the way he had grabbed onto your neck last night to sloppily kiss you told you everything you had to know. not like you didn’t enjoy it but you liked it just way too much.

normal! mohawk mark who invites himself into your house when your parents are gone knowing they’d throw a fit seeing a guy with facial piercings, muscular build, and a mohawk in their house heading to their daughters room. not like he’d care anyways he would still go up into your room while your parents were there.

normal! mohawk mark who caresses your ass while laying in your bed as if not a while ago he had promised he’d be good to you and no touching. he “ couldn’t help! “ it he claimed while giving you those bullshit puppy eyes he had always gave you when he has got into trouble with you.

normal! mohawk mark who’s boner is practically prodding at your ass when he swears up and down its not his dick and is just the remote. but you don’t remember the remote being 8 inches and that girthy, you try to believe him but it’s hard to when every time you shuffle you hear him shuddering or breath being caught in his throat.

normal! mohawk mark who can’t take it anymore violently pulling your blouse down revealing your tits.. which were pierced his eyes widened, this was love at first sight he had thought, a wide smile playing onto his face. “ who would’ve known “ he thought sitting on top of you as if he wasn’t already so big.

“ mmark.. be nice with them i just got them pierced two weeks ago! “ you protested your nipples hardened feeling the steel of his tongue piercings clacking against your nipple piercings. “ fuck, did they hurt baby? “ his words were long and sultry even the thought of the needle piercing through your nipples made him 10x harder! “ of course they did you dumbass.. “ you moaned the feeling of his rough hands squeezing onto the fat of your breasts was enough to send you into a frenzy. mark’s slobber was all on your tits it looked as if someone even poured some water onto your breasts and let it sit there, hearing the sound of cheap baggy jeans unzipping you looked down to see him starting to pull his boxers down “ mark you’re not tit fucking me! “ he was already was squishing you with his weight but no he didn’t want to listen cause he never does. his hard cock was pulsing at the sight of you, he looked like a fucking pervert too the way he wiped his drool from his mouth and smiled down at you “ youre so fucking hot babe.. cant believe i bagged a bad bitch like you “ he moaned out scooting his body further onto your torso to settle his cock between your tits “ you’ll let me nut all over this pretty face yea? “ you were so embarrassed, every word that came out his mouth made your pussy wet and pulse “ just hurry up mark.. if parents barge in i’ll be in big trouble “ grabbing onto your breasts and squishing them against his hard cock he threw his head back “ fuck your parents.. Shitt “ thrusting his member in between your tits that were still covered in saliva the sensation felt so fucking good to him “ mark you’re a pervert! “ he groaned even more the degrading throwing him off edge even more “ yea? im your dirty lil pervert mhmm.. “ speeding up the sensation he would drag your tits against his cock too the soft doughy feeling of your breasts had hypnotized him “ fuck m gonna.. shit let me cum baby pleasee “ his tip was practically red waiting to burst all over your breasts and face “ fine just.. clean m- “ he came immediately. a extremely loud groan emitted from mark making you even feel embarrassed for him, but you couldn’t focus on that.. the hot sticky substance that painted your face and breasts made you look like a pornstar some even getting onto your newly done lashes that you’d just payed for! “ mark!! “ his chest heaving he would crawl off of you “ dont think i’d let this pussy feel neglected and alone did ya? “

[chaostudee]

max verstappen

summary : you are lando norris's younger sister and when you show up to the paddock to support him a certain driver for red bull falls for you. faceclaim : anna astrup warnings : language, suggestive content a/n : obsessed with this smmm <33

y/nusername happiest of birthdays to you baby brother ❤️

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, charlesleclerc and 1,292,671 others.

landonorris i do not appreciate you publicly humiliating me like this

y/nusername ;)

user72 thank you y/n for giving us new lando pics !!

username12 im peeing at the last photo

f1fan no because wdym lando is 27?!?!

user123 no cause real istg he was like 20 yesterday tf

username89 my shaylah oooh my shaylah

user00 im scared

f1lover shdjdhdueb

user12 if my sibling ever embarrassed me like this i would acc like sob

user12 not lando with his 'putting up the middle finger' obsession 😭

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

y/nusername on my way ✈️

liked by landonorris, kikagomes, lilymunihe and 372,992 others.

landonorris can't waitttt

user72 omggg y/n better come to the gp

username55 oh i just know she will eat her fits up

f1girl omggg her and alex better meet up !!

user35 girl how tf do u look this good on a plane i could neverrr

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y/nusername monaco ily

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, kikagomes, victoriaverstappen and 482,027 others.

user72 chat....is that....who i think it is

f1fan ik that side profile

user62 girl whattt we need the tea now

victoriaverstappen so so beautiful

f1girl f1 twitter is going crazyyyy

user62 imagine soft launching THE max verstappen

f1lover frrrr im so jelly

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y/nusername guess i'm a redbull girl now

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, sergioperez and 724,729 others.

f1fan me because i can never decided which team to support

user72 crying because why is this the most relatable thing i've seen all day

user82 okay girl i see u

f1lover omggg pls tell me you're a max fan

user6 ive never wanted to be someone more

f1girl okay her and max are defo dating

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y/nusername alexa play winter things by ariana grande !

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 371,610 others.

user62 max in the likes.....

f1fan ugh y/n's music taste is on top

username11 so aesthetic omggg

f1girl wait guys i swear max is gone skiing this weekend holy shit maybe they're together

user00 oh girl....u are delulu as fuckkk 💀

landonorris a little bit of credit would be nice

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y/nusername hehe

》 um what hard launch?!?!

》 DUDE

》 omgggg girl what

》 makes sense

》 max gets it

》 how does lando feel about this

》 isnt y/n like 22???

》 wait cause this is lowkey kinda crazy

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

maxverstappen my sweet girl

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, checoperez and 1,728,927 others.

landonorris cant lie this is weird asf but im happy for you both 💛

user82 awwww

username8199 chat this is acc so crazy

f1girl i loveeee

user00 savannah slow down-

charlesleclerc bro got rizz

oscarpiastri 😭😭

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y/nusername guess who's backkk 🤭🏁

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 528,928 others.

landonorris not happy with this 🥲

y/nusername redbull is better

user72 yesssss y/n gets it

user92 DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN

user62 redbull queen

f1fan y/n's a real one

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

y/nusername 🌸

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, maxfewtrell and 712,991 others.

user72 omds i love them both sm i cant

f1fan body is tea

username22 y/n is just living that life

f1fan4eva holy shitt is that a charli xcx reference🙈

username111 max's bicepsss ugh yes godd

f1girl omgg where did she get thar bikini im so obsessed

f1lover so so gorge omg girl teach me your ways

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landonorris some quality time with big sis

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri, yukitsunoda and 1,628,028 others.

user72 best sibling duo

f1fan im sry this summer break has felt like an ageeee i just want the cars back on track :,(

username55 comeback on lando.jpg 👀

user00 omggg plss

y/nusername ngl u lowkey ateee

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

y/nusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, maxverstappen and 527,310 others.

user82 nortrell forever ❤️

username82 y/n is so stunning omg

f1fan where is max??

y/nusername he's with his family

user728 did they break up 👀👀

f1girl omgg pls she doesnt have to post with him 24/7 to make u believe that they didnt break up

user00 fit devoured

f1lover ugh to be max

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maxverstappen back at it 💪

liked by victoriaverstappen, nicohulkenberg, danielriccardo and 2,726,292 others.

user773 um where tf is y/n

f1fan oh they defo broke up.....she didnt even like it

user11 okay but it is hella weird that both lando and y/n are not in the likes

anon babes i fear it is not that deep

user00 ugh not all the fangirls in the comments

username13 omdss can we pls just seperate personal life from sport plsss

user236 max dominated this week

username666 frrr i know my goat 🐐

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y/nusername life recently 💞

*replies have been turned off*

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messages between max and lando

dude did u propose to y/n lando

shit yeah yeah i did..... max

im sry if you're pissed but i asked your dad and he was chill and like i'm in love with her and i want to spend the rest of my life with her max

im not mad max 😭😭 lando

you're not....... max

well i mean a little lando

mad that i wasn't in on the proposal lowkey lol lando

ah it was a kind of private thing max

its chill man just dont hurt her lando

never max

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

maxverstappen i promise i will love you forever

liked by landonorris, y/nusername, charlesleclerc and 3,929,772 others.

landonorris i will kill u if u dare hurt her 😈

user72 damn username88 yesss love me a man who stands on business f1fan im sry the emoji 💀 user72 that damn smirk

y/nusername this is just the start of forever <3

user62 sobbing.

f1girl this is my royal family

username72 omggg y/n verstappen

f1fan oh im counting down the days to this wedding fr

charlesleclerc bravo !!

taglist⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn @sweetestgirlintown111 @mxryxmfooty @hadidsworld @llando4norris @heavy-vettel @love2readd @depressedriches @nichmeddar @seonghwaexile

[beecass]

after watching this i have some thoughts.

the movie really is about a dysfunctional couple who moves to their dream house and go crazy. but their relationship is broken way before that. in the movie the main problem is about gender roles, and that's why mac takes the "woman" role in this epsode staying at home and fixing just like barbara in the movie.

and is not just in this epsode that mac is like barbara but his whole life, he has a business with dennis, lives with him, peels the apples for him, everything he does he does for dennis.

but that's old news. when they go to their monthly dinner and mac complains about dennis not wanting the kareoke machine, they fight but make up at the end. the same thing happens with barbara, she complains about how oliver dissmissed her storytelling at dinner and completly undermined her, but then they made up. and that's before they moved to the new house.

the new house is not new anymore and actually they only start to go crazy once barbara tells oliver how she truly feels. oliver has an almost heart attack and she feels relieved at the thought of him dying. now we all know that wouldnt be mac bc he cant live without dennis but thats what he does. he actually tells dennis how selfish he is.

the difference between barbara and oliver is that their crazyness comes from the fight for the house in the divorce. with mac and dennis they both hate the house, neither of them want it, they are not attached to the house like barbara and oliver were. so when they go crazy is really about how they just did it the wrong way.

dennis wouldve loved to stay at home and fix everything and cook, and mac wouldnt get stressed driving to work and eating dennis' food. they are not like barbara and oliver.

but they are.

dennis is actually barbara and mac is actually oliver. oliver almost dies and thinks of his love for barbara to the point to write her a pretty letter telling about how much he loves her and how much she means to him before "dying". barbara cant stand oliver anymore, his existence is annoying to her, and not even words of affection can make her feel different. she still hates him.

now i would even argue they are both barbara since oliver is just an incredible exemple of straight white man who just does not deserve the wife he has. but thats just my opinion.

now one thing that got me is the cat and the dog. i think we can agree how mac is a dog person and dennis is a cat person. in the movie barbara is more attatched to the cat while oliver is more attatched to the dog. when the cat dies, he shows no reaction at all the same way dennis reacts to dennis jr's death.

now when their kids go to college they are left alone in the house with the dog. and that's when the similarities really get to the surface.

a few other parallels is barbara's cooking, she has a business with food and that would compare to mac's famous mac and cheese that dennis doesn't take it seriously at first and complains about it.

also there's a scene where barbara throws at plate at oliver and it reminded me of dennis throwing the plate and smashing it on the floor.

finally, at the dinner, and that's when they talk for the first time, he says he still loves her, while she says she doesn't want him anymore. now which of them is mac and which is dennis at this point?

and then she feeds oliver the dog.

mac and dennis relationship mostly breaks in this epsode with dennis screaming because i hate you, and that's compared to when oliver finally breaks the thing that made them fell in love years before. he breaks the foundation of their relationship, and when he thinks barbara got hit by one of the pieces he rushes to her asking if she is okay. that's mac running after dennis when he is making his way to kill the neighbor.

and they haven't gotten over that yet. it still seems like they are still stuck in the barbara/oliver dynamic. they are still stuck in the house and in the divorce, growing bitter and bitter to each other. mac still loving dennis like oliver still loves barbara, and dennis getting meaner and meaner to mac, like barbara with oliver.

they destroy the house they loved together. mac and dennis destroy their relationship together. barbara is mac oliver is dennis barbara is dennis oliver is mac.

the gender dynamics in the movie are actually so great and well developed, the caracthers are interesting and the comedy is just so sunny lol.

really great movie.

also danny devitos caracther is so funny i loved it.

i haven't seen anyone mention "war of the roses" (1989) when they talk about the references in mac and dennis move to the suburbs, but it's a great dark comedy about a dysfunctional couple moving into a new house and how they completely lose it (to put it super simply) oh and also danny devitos in it! it features an iconic scene where the wife feeds the husband the dog, allegedly - and i'm convinced this movie is what sunny is referencing.

[k-aemi]

itoshi rin ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ see me for me.

smut, choking, lost of virginity(both), unprotected sex

for the longest time youve been friends with the itoshi brothers. you guys were inseparable, always doing everything with each other! theyd teach you football tricks, but you did suck, youre no where close to them at all! youre the same age as sae, so rin was younger than you.

youve never even realized it but the more time you spent with them, the more you realize your feelings. your feelings for sae. just the way he makes your heart fluttered when he would ask why you looked so nervous, feeling your headache to see if you were ok.

the way he always makes you laugh with his sarcastic comments. the way hed tease you for being bad at football. all of these contributed to your feelings for him, but youre not so sure about his feelings for you.

rin was too young to understand these complicated feelings. he felt as if his heart would explode when he was close to you. his face always burned and he could never keep a cool facade with you around. he thought you placed a cursed on him!

the day when sae left for spain, pained you. youd miss him so much! you wanted to tell him how you felt first. but how? youre not so sure. you feel like youd regret it so much if you didnt. but youre scared of rejection. maybe when he gets back, youd be sure to tell him.

you and rin held hands as you went to see sae fly off, you hugged him, wishing him the best over there. saying your goodbyes, you face his back now, as he walked away. the feeling in your chest ached.

“s-sae!” you yelled out. he could only turn around, facing you with confusion. you hesitated to say the words you wanted to say. cmon, just tell him you love him! stop being so scared!

“hm?” he settled down his suitcase. you stood there dumbfounded, you called out to him, you might as well say it right..? but what if he rejects you? it wouldnt be worth it.

“i…i hope you land safe.” you give him a weak smile and he returned it.

“yeah, i will. thanks [name.]” before picking his suitcase up again to walk away.

fuck. you cant. maybe some other time. another time where youre sure youll confess. and just hope for the best.

for the remaining time its just you and rin now. still spending time together like how all three of you guys would. you missed sae so much, your sure rin did too.

even as time passed by you can never get sae off your mind. with every body passing by, youd reject them, because your eyes only set on sae. hes gotten so well known too! you see him on tv sometimes and it makes you happy.

but rin knew you liked sae. it’s so obvious, the way you talk so positively about him. saying hes the best. he was jealous. he wanted you to see him. hes not the best for no reason too right? maybe youll take the chance to recognize his achievements.

learning about saes return, you cant help but contain your excitement. youd immediately enter the itoshis residence, to see sae. hes grown so tall! but he still looks the same as ever. though his eyes do seem to be a bit empty.

“sae! oh my god!” you go up to hug him. you missed him so much after a whooping four years. “its been so long!” you flashed a smile at him.

“sure has.” he keeps a stoic face. hm, that was interesting? it was a bit weird to see him like this, not like he hasnt but you thought hed at least be happy to see you too.

you guys decided to take a walk on the seaside. its night, and the stars are shining bright. the moon light reflects on the water. you walk bare feet, feeling the soft sand as sae walks besides you.

“it feels like back in the days where we walked here and talk about anything!” you giggled. looking at sae, keeping his eyes forward. it looks like the conversation wasnt going anywhere and you frown.

maybe you should tell him..? that would spark up something at least, well you hope. you inhale a sharp breath, exhaling out before stopping in your place, grabbing hold of the hem of his sweater.

“sae.” he turned his attention on you. before fully turning around facing your figure.

you let out a sigh and build up the courage to tell him.

“i like you sae…ive always have! and…” sae could only stop you there. gently lifting your hands off him. he looked conflicted of some sort as you set your gaze on him.

“i’m engaged [name].” and that shattered your heart. what? engage? you just heard wrong right? maybe hes just kidding with you.

“i was going to ask if you wanted to come to our wedding.” he rests his hands in his pocket. you can only shift your gaze away from him, looking down to see your feet sink down to the sand.

how could you possibly go to his wedding, seeing another woman marry the boy you liked ever since? you knew it. you were going to regret it. now look what it has become. youre so stupid.

“o-of course sae. im so happy for you.” your voice starts to break. you dont even realize it at first, but globs of tears fall down to the sand. sae only pats your head in comfort. the air was only filled of your sniffling and cries, followed by the tide waves.

“ill be going back soon. i only came to renew my passport.” he retreats his hands. its so embarrassing for him to see you so vulnerable. but can you blame yourself? actually. yes you can. its your fault you didnt confess so soon. now hes in love with some other woman. that was supposed to be you!

“get home safe.” he whispered out to you before walking away. probably to the airport or whatever, not like you care right now. your heart was broken. after all those years of being so loyal to sae, it was just for him to end up with another woman.

you take yourself back…your mind still stuck on the events that had happened. those words sank inside your head like a ship. engaged. that should of been you. married to sae, start a family with him and live old and die together. all of that wasnt possible now.

walking up the stairs from the seaside, you bump into someone unexpected. you let out a yelp before the person catches you.

“[name]? why are you still here?” it was rin. he balances you up and observing closely he can see the tears that drip down your cheeks. he cups your cheeks, wiping the tears with his thumb, leaning down to your level showing a face of concern.

“why are you crying?” he coos you and all you can do is hug him, crying uncontrollably. hes not sure what to do but hold you close. your tears smearing on his jacket but he doesnt mind, hed very much worry about comforting you right now.

he lifts your head up to face his him, tucking a strand of hair behind your hair. he stares at your teary eyes, patting your head as a sense of comfort. you never really thought of it much, but rin really did look a lot like sae.

your hand trails to his jawline, tracing random patterns before caressing his cheek softly. “you look just like him.” you whispered out followed by a hiccup. were you talking about sae, rin wondered. he can see the way you look at his lips, slowly leaning in. but he doesnt back out.

your lips connect with his. kissing him with such passion. this is what you wanted to do with sae. you wanted to give him your first kiss. but this will do, rin…hes so much like him.

rin reciprocates the kiss back, taking hold of your back, indulging himself with your soft lips. he could smell the cocoa chapstick you always applied on yourself, it smelled so sweet, but your touch was much more addictive. the way your tongue explored his mouth felt so good. hes always wanted this, he wondered what your lips would of felt like on his.

but it was so sudden, something definitely happened between you and sae. he leaned back from the kiss and youre left disappointed from the lost of contact. youre met with his teal eyes with his conflicted look.

“what happened [name]..? why did you..” you didnt want to remember. you hated it. those words that still swirl inside your mind. its like a nightmare you can never escape from. tears perked from the corners of your eyes again.

“sae…hes engaged and i…i was stupid enough to think hed would of waited for me.” you cried on his chest. is this what it was all about? sae? is that why you kissed him? because he resembles him..? his arm hesitates to hug you, did you only see sae in him, not because he was rin?

but he doesnt know what to do. he always wanted you. he yearned for this so much he cant just let the opportunity to go away right? youre in his arms right now. if this was the closest hell get you to, hell do it. just for you.

“s’okay im here…shh.” he embraced you. kissing the top of your head as he rubbed your back. soothing your crying self.

all of the sudden hes settled in between your legs, all bare. your naked figure was so beautiful. he loved everything about you, even if you did think you had so much flaws.

rin looks like him so much, its basically the same thing you supposed. just not the real deal, but itll do for saes place.

“im g’na put it in okay..?” he rubs his cock head on your clit and you whine, motioning your hips in a circular motion. you nod giving him that access he so longed for.

just barely putting it in, he hisses, it feels so good. this new sensation of pleasure. it felt way better than when hed fist himself to the thought of fucking your tight cunt. he lets out ragged breath, turning his attention to your face only to see you cry from the pleasure.

“does it hurt..?” he rubs your sides, you only let out gasps. youre glad hes being gentle right now because it hurts, you wanted your first to be sae, but its fine. its not like his would be you.

you nod. “its okay…just keep going.” you hands wrap around his neck for leverage, signaling you were fine for him to move. he exhales a breath before moving and oh my god did it felt good for him. the way you warm walls would tighten up when he entered back in made him feel like he was gonna come already.

rin could only take in the moans you let out. its so erotic, hearing you moan out because he was making you feel his cock. his big cock.

a night you two had, rin couldnt believe you let him take your first. and you took his. but he knew why, because he resembles his brother, sae. but if it made you feel better hed give in into your delusions, even if he did wanted you to see him as rin.

the day of the wedding, it was a big one indeed. very expensive looking. you know you should be happy for sae, but really, seeing someone you loved for a long time to marry someone else? that truly was heart breaking.

the toast starts, and never in your whole life have you seen sae so happy before. his eyes lit when he speaks so positively of his now wife. watching from afar as you see sae closing in the gap with his wife to kiss her with a chuckle. rin takes note of your obvious frustration and he can only feel so bad.

too hard to watch, you leave the room. not like anyone would care to notice since it was loud after. but rin would. his eyes were always on you. following after you.

your heels echoes thru the hall as you scurry off to the exit. still devastated from what had just happened. theres no way you can just stay there, seeing the newly wed couple, which was the person you loved so dearly.

"[name]!" rin follows behind as you exit out. hes met with your weeping state, your cries filling in the air of silence. rin can only sigh before walking up to you, rubbing your back. "wanna go?" he asks with a soft tone.

rin takes you home, ensuring you would be safe. walking you to your apartment, but tonight you just wanted to get your head off from everything today. grabbing the hem of rins suit, which makes him halt his movement.

"can you stay...for the night." how could rin refuse? he would give up anything to stay with you (maybe not football.) he knows what you want when you say things like that, and he wont miss that opportunity.

moans and smell of sweat fill the room with the pounding of rins rough thrusts. shit you look so good right now, well you always do. youre so perfect in his eyes.

grabbing hold of your jaw, kissing you while his tongue explores your mouth, the taste is sweet. rin manhandles you so well, putting you into a mating press makes him reach deeper. its like you can feel it in your womb. its so good. too good.

but of course, in your eyes, hell always remind you of sae.

"s-sae...fuck..!" your hand clawed his back and he hisses. it pains him that you still see him as sae. hes sick of it. why cant you finally open your eyes and see that he wants you to see him for who he is. that he loves you.

clicking his tongue in annoyance, he props himself up, his hand trailing to your neck, tightening his grip on you. you can only choke from the lack of oxygen you were getting. it hurts, but not too much.

"fucking sick of you calling. me. sae." he punctuated each words with his thrusts and it makes you scream. your hands grip his wrist, but he doesnt budge. only fastening his pace, letting out ragged breaths.

you cant lie, the way his hair sticks to his forehead was so hot, sweat dripping from his chin.

"call out my name. say rin." you can only let out hiccups. his hands were so big. one hand already covered your whole neck. and with his second one just applied more pressure. it was like a good kind of pain. you didnt hate it.

"r-rin....fuck rin...please make me cum." how could he refuse your request? that was the first youve ever called out is name while you guys had sex. he swears he can hear you calling out his name forever and he wouldnt get tired of it. he loved hearing your voice moaning out his name.

"goddamn it [name]. i fucking love you, ill treat you better than sae. better than anyone." he growled, releasing his grip on your neck, leaning down to bite down on the flesh. it stings, but so good.

his thrusts becomes sloppy, and he grits his teeth. the way your gummy walls clench his dick, he knows youre about to come. and he is too.

"say you love me." he props himself with his hand, focusing his attention on your face, eyeing your fucked out face. god you look so hot like this. "please." his face looks so pleading and it stirs something inside of you. it was like the first time youve seen him like this. but too into the moment, you give in.

"i love you. rin." flashing a weak smile at him, before he reaches his high, with one final thrust, he paints your walls white and the feeling of is cum filling you up is enough to make you orgasm. he rests his hands on your knees, catching up with his breath, seeing the way his cum spill from your cunt.

plopping himself to the side of the bed, giving your forehead a kiss.

"i love you too."

so sorry i will try to post three today! very busyyy so wrote this very quick so u guys think i am not dead. i hope it does not look too choppy! i will work on request :D

[emoboybrony]

Ill admit ive never been that into laurence (any his variations really) but something has been really bothering me since rewatching parts of MCD.

What really caught my attention about MCD Laurence is that he starts out as this well adjusted, loyal knightly and charming guy- and then after he becomes a shadow knight you just see this slow decay of him. Like hes slowly losing parts of himself and its causing him to become more and more unstable to the point where by the end of season 2 hes honestly kind of terrfying.

And ALOT of that is reflected with how his relationship with aphmau starts to shift. He goes from this sweet, suave and honestly pretty silly personality, to being so obsessive and vindictive towards her.

Theres this one scene, at the end of ep 95 S2, where aphmau has just essentially seen a ghostly image of aaron and is really shaken up by it. Laurence comes to sit with her and ask her about it. And at first, it genuinely seems like hes just trying to get her to open up so he can support her. But then it quickly spirals into him demanding to know why she cares about aaron so much and why shes greiving so hard for him, like its a problem. He becomes so aggressive and condensending to the point where Garroth has to intervene and he walks off.

In this moment you see how far hes really fallen, he goes from semingly reasuring and gentle, and by the end of it hes disrepecting a dead man, who gave his life to save both his brother and supposed love of his life, who he travelled and fought along side with for months, who close to the end of his life was taking care of an orphan (something he comlimented in aphmau), and hes thowing all of that out the window because hes taken Aphmau's attention, due to the fact he fucking died.

After that happens, aphmau has a conversation woth vlyad where he basically tells her that laurence has to accept what he is and go to the nether or else hes gonna go insane, and that the only reason he came back is because hes "chasing a fantasy". Aphmau responds by suggesting they get cadenza over so that he can be with family, and vlyad says she can do what she wants but implies its pretty much inevitable that laurence is going to hit a breaking point. And hes completely right.

Before laurence even gets to speak to cadenza, he eavesdrops on the conversation where aphamu reveals shes pregnant, and just immediately peaces out, out of fear that hes going to MURDER HER.

Not to mention that in that conversation, cadenza herself tells aphmau not to tell laurence because shes scared of how he would react. He has gotten so unstable that his own sister, who loves him more than anything, can recognise that he is a danger to some degree and shes RIGHT.

All this paints a stark contrast, the laurence we first met vs the man he has now become. Its tragic because its this inevitable downfall brought on by an act that was completely selfless, him sacrificing himself that got him turned into a shadow knight in the first place.

Even this is eventually tainted, his selfless act becomes a selfish one as he seems to cling to aphmau's love and affection as an emotional crutch. Aphmau obviously loves and cares for him deeply, but not in an explicitly romantic/sexual way. And if she doesnt love him the way he wants, then why is he suffering through this? Why did he bother to sacrafice himself at all if theres no reward? Its honestly horrifying how pretty much everyone who loved and respected him, makes what should be incredibly out of place predictions on him, but they always end up being right except for aphmau. She cant accept that hes changing and theres nothing she or anyone else can do change that. Its gut wrenching.

This all lead me to beileve that i didnt give enough credit to his character. I love this. This is the type off tragic story telling im here for. Theres so much more to this character than i ever expected.

Heres the thing.

Why the fuck do laurence's biggest fans seem to just completely disregard this? If you believed a good portion of the fandom, laurence is just this sauve uwu sad boy who was unfairly rejected and ignored by a woman who demamded the world from him.

Im dead serious, i saw people saying that laurence "deserved better than aphmau", that he deserved someone who recognised the sacrafice he made. Which like- there is so much to unpack there.

First of all, aphmau did recognise his sacrafice, she did love him and try to support him in the best way she could, even when literally everyone around her was saying it was a lost cause. She did everything she could for that man and forgave so much of what he did while struggling with the calling and she got nothing but shit for it.

Second of all, no the fuck he doesnt?? As illustrated in the examples above he did not respect Aphmau's boundaries. He did not respect her feelings. And by the end, he didnt even respect her bodily autonomy. Lets be honest here, he basically abandoned everyone he apprantly "loved", because bro tapped it before he could. She loved him so much, but because he wanted something she wasnt willing or able to provide, that being explicitly romantic and sexual attention, he just didnt see it. To try and argue that hes the real victim here, is in the same vain of "nice guys finish last". Him being kind, compassionate and selfless- shouldnt be reliant on whether or not this woman will fuck him or not. That is an insanely misogynistic way of thinking.

But most important to me in the context of this analysis- what is there to like about laurence with this interpretation? What possibly sets him apart from the gazillion other brunette pretty anime bois? Am i to gay for this? Is there something im not seeing?

I understand fanon can wildly divert from canon, and i understand that alot of this is probably down to the fact that i find dissecting and critiquing canon more intresting than reinventing it through fanon. Im locked into the Baldurs gate 3 fandom and i had the same experience there (laurence fangirls got NOTHING on Astarion girlies). But both experiences have left me with the same question- what draws you to a character, when all you do is boil them down to their most generic aspects?

I find Laurence intresting cause we are seeing this man crash out and become a monster in real time. And i dont see how he is worth even an honourable mention, when you take that away.

What is there left to be compelled to?

[sleepincrow]

contains: toxic behaviour, toxic!reader this was itching my brain, idk what to tell you. i like having morally ambigious reader... or idk, is it too tame? i have no idea where the line meets and ends when it comes to dark shit cus i usually stay in the other side of the line. whenever i think of dark stuff its in a comedic-ish light and everything turns fluffy in the end idfk. tell me what else i should add in the warnings 😞

edit: i made it readable, i should really start readproofing.

hear me out..

reader who doesnt do anything when their boyfriend is mean. like theyre just generally pissed off and huffing at you when youre trying to greet them with open arms and a warm smile when they come home.

reader who doesnt confront them about their horrible behavior and how it affected them. no, just stay silent, take in whatever your boyfriend had to say or do and leave him be.

ohooooh, you mightve done nothing but youre going to give them something much worse than a silent treatment.

youre not a doormat. youre not a crybaby.

i want reader to be absolutely menacing. if that man doesnt come back crawling, apologizing to you, youre gonna make him.

do you understand me? the anger, the absolute disgust that bubbles in your stomach, that claws its way up your chest like an animal looking for a fresh breath of air before it starts to hunt.

youre silent all of the sudden, giving him the driest texts known to man, leaving him on seen with texts that dont technically need a reply instead of dragging the conversation longer with a picture of a cat you saw on your way home. youre picking up more work than usual, unable to cut some time, telling him youve got things to do—things more important than having to watch some tv with him, be in bed with him.

youre clever. you know your schedule, and you know his. rearrange everything, make sure to make as much commotion in your life that doesnt include him, so when he confronts you, youre technically telling the truth when you say youre busy.

because why bother coming home early, greeting him, surprising him with dinner and a loving kiss?

then watch it all go down. technically, youre not doing anything wrong, youve got your plate full with a screenshot of your planned calendar to pair with it as sweet, sweet evidence.

youre watching him slightly deteriorate. watch him panic. he'll buy you flowers, in which you put in a vase but never take care of like before. he'll buy you jewelry you wont wear because "theyre beautiful but i like the old ones too! ill wear them on a special occassion" that wont ever come.

the frustrated, panicked look on his face is priceless. it feels so good. he cant even be mad because youre not even cheating! you have all the alibis, all the witnesses. youre perfectly happy and sweet as before! just.. not as responsive, not as present. but thats not your fault, thats your job's!

if he pays for you, slowly start paying your half of everything. shows that you are stable and everything would be perfectly fine if he went up in left. in the end, thats why he got angry with you in the first place, right? he's so okay with being angry, not telling you his problems, that he can keep it to himself, right?

he doesnt need your lap to lay his head on, not your food that you prepare for him when he comes home, not the soft touches you leave on his overworked skin and definitely not the words that you coo at him everyday before he pissed you off.

make him know what the once delicious thought of takeout tastes like once he's left to fend for himself while you go out for overtime at work! trust me, its gonna taste a hell of a lot more bland, a lot more dull. depressing, really.

dont even get me STARTED on sex. (i wont, not now)

this is all justifiable, right? after all, this is how you communicate your feelings right? this is how you can show him how you felt when he showed you a cold shoulder at your warm embrace! let him have the full experience when you felt pathetic, miserable, useless.

plus, youre not wrong, arent you? you can leave whenever you want! who is he to tell you that you cant leave? as if he owns you—is that what he thinks? is that what he thinks of you? just a not-so-significant other that he can come home to whenever he wants and project his feelings unto?

no, no youre not. youre not gonna take that bullshit. he can roll it up, pack it in a bag and beat it if thats what he's thinking. no, both of you are holding an end of a rope in this relationship. a big, thick rope which you can cut off with that large ass scissor you both have.

this is just you telling him, reminding him that you can cut it whenever you like! its not threatening, not manipulation, straight truth! you CAN leave any relationship you like! its his problem if he doesnt like it, right?

your poor little boyfriend has to get his act together! start thinking straight! unless he wants to deal with your unyielding, harsh wrath for the rest of his soon-to-be miserable life.

after all, he made the first threat to your relationship, right? its just a reminder!

[dysaniadisorder]

one of the things i REALLY like about the timeloops is once siffrin gets too afraid to change it, its to his own frustration too. like yes theyre desperate to stay in it and with their friends but during the helping events,,? every time after the first siffrin comes to realize they dont actually want to tell mirabelle hes ace anymore. they dont know what compelled them to share that in the first place, its more personal than they want to say anymore. but they say it again anyway, because what would happen if he didnt?? same with telling odile he can never go home. he admits it to her in a moment of relief and comfort realizing theyre willing to tell her this but after the first time? its not her business. they dont want to tell her again. but they do. every time they force themself to admit it again, that they cant go home,,,, and with isabeau, they didnt speak up the first time, werent bold the first time, and now never can . he knows isabeaus in love with him and will never say it and now they'll never say it either. jesus fucking christ i hate siffrin

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch17

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

Before Jungkook enlists in the military, his life takes an unexpected turn when he visits a local restaurant with friends and meets a waitress who doesn’t recognize him. Surprised by your lack of star-struck reaction, Jungkook finds himself drawn to your down-to-earth nature, especially his previous struggles with the pressure of constant drama on social media regarding his relationships. Little do you know, Jungkook is about to leave for the military, which inevitably bring’s complications to their connection… do they find a way to fix it?

warnings: profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity.

chap contents: mentions of unsafe driving ( dont ) jungkook is an idiot. he cries for half the chapter again, nari being our fav supportive bestie, we love her, oc is in her elle woods era LOL. alc consumption, jk is so heartbroken and so is oc, jungkook spamming oc, oc accidentally replies while drunk ( spoiler: they dont fix anything btw) theres honestly more humour then angst!!

wc: shortttt

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610 @bjoriis @kaitieskidmore97 @cuntessaiii

a/n: im gonna upload the next part in a few because i had to split up the chapter since it was super awkward to keep in one long part!! this part isnt that angsty ngl, im also NOT good at writing angst if u cant tell. but yeah, enjoy loves <3

masterlist, < prev | next >

Jungkook sits in his car for a long time outside your apartment building.

Long enough for the engine’s low hum to become a dull vibration against his hands. Long enough for the tears burning his eyes to finally spill over.

He grips the steering wheel. His knuckles turn white. He can still hear you.

Still hear the crack in your voice when you told him to leave. Still see the way you flinched when he tried to touch you.

He squeezes his eyes shut. His chest aches.

His lungs feel tight.

His stomach is turning and twisting and burning and then, he pulls out his phone.

Dials the number without thinking.

It rings twice before, “Jungkook, what’s up?”

The second he hears Taehyung’s voice, Jungkook shatters. He doesn’t even get a word out. Just breaks. His whole body curls inward as the sobs hit him all over again, raw and ugly and relentless. There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

Then, “Jungkook?”

Jungkook tries to speak. Fails.

His hands shake against his lap. He presses the heel of his palm to his forehead, trying to hold himself together, but it’s pointless.

“She knows.”

His voice barely comes out. “She fucking found out.”

Taehyung exhales.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “You fucked up.”

Jungkook lets out a hollow laugh. “No shit.”

He swallows, trying to get his breathing under control. His chest is heaving. His skin is burning.

“It happened so wrong,” he whispers. “I was supposed to tell her, I was—I was going to tell her, I had this whole fucking plan, but—”

He cuts himself off. His mind is racing.

The guilt turns into anger. “She would’ve been upset anyway.” His voice is sharper now, defensive. “Even if I told her weeks ago, she still would’ve been hurt. Like—like, this was always going to happen, right?”

Taehyung sighs. Doesn’t say anything at first.

And then “Jungkook.”

His tone is flat. Calm. Unwavering.

“Stop.”

Jungkook blinks. And suddenly, it all collapses. The weight of his own bullshit slams into him all at once.

He was making excuses. Trying to convince himself that you were just as responsible for getting attached. That this was inevitable. That it wasn’t entirely his fault. But it was. It was all his fault. There is no one else to blame. Not you. Not the situation. Not even time itself.

Just him.

And the realization guts him. His lip trembles. His head drops. His vision blurs all over again.

“I ruined everything,” he chokes out.

Taehyung doesn’t argue. Doesn’t tell him he didn’t. Doesn’t try to make him feel better. He just lets him sit in it. Jungkook grips the phone tighter, his breathing unsteady.

“I gotta go.”

And before Taehyung can respond, he ends the call.

He drives. Fast. Faster than he should. Blowing through streets he doesn’t recognize. Ignoring the blaring horns from pissed-off drivers when he swerves too suddenly. Blinking past the tears making the city lights smear together. His mind is loud.

His heart is pounding. And then, somehow, He ends up at the field. The one place he always runs to.

The one place he stupidly introduced you to. His escape. His getaway. And now—now it’s just another thing that reminds him of you.

He stumbles out of the car. His legs feel weak. The air is cold. He doesn’t care.

He walks to where you both sat that night—his spot in the grass is worn in more than yours.

Because he comes here all the time. Because he always ran here when things got too much. Because this place was his before you—

But now, somehow, it is you.

He sinks down onto the grass, knees bent, hands shaking. He stares at the tree where he hung the fairy lights that are still barely there. His gaze drifts—

There.

The paint. A tiny splash of color against the bark.

Leftover from that night you painted together.

That night you chased each other, breathless and laughing, Jungkook with streaks of red and blue smudged across his cheeks, you with splatters of yellow on your sweater.

That night he thought— No.

That night he knew he had already fallen for you.

Completely. Helplessly. Stupidly.

Jungkook clenches his jaw. He loses it.

A broken sob tears from his throat.

He grips his hair in his shirt, tugging like it’ll somehow lessen the unbearable ache in his chest. He gasps for breath. His whole body shakes. It feels like something inside him is splitting open, too fucking much.

His hand fumbles for his phone.

He barely sees the screen through his tears. His fingers move on autopilot. He opens your messages.

He starts spamming.

Jungkook [10:47pm]: please

Jungkook [10:47pm]: im so fucking sorry

Jungkook [10:48pm]: let me explain please.

Jungkook [10:48pm]: please, please, please.

Jungkook [10:49pm]: please pick up.

His thumb hovers over your contact. He calls. It rings. No answer.

He calls again. Still nothing.

And then, finally, On the third attempt—

The line clicks.

For a second, his breath catches—

“Stop fucking calling.”

Nari’s voice is sharp. Low. Whispered. Lethal. And then—

Click. The call drops. His whole body deflates. And then, before he can even process it—

A new notification.

Y/N has turned on Do Not Disturb.

Jungkook stares at his screen. The lump in his throat expands.His vision swims. And then, finally, Finally—He gives up.

Drops his phone.

Presses his palms into his eyes.

And sobs until his whole body aches.

——

You wake up feeling…nothing. Not empty. Not heavy. Just numb.

Your eyes flicker open to the soft glow of daylight peeking through the curtains. The sheets are tangled around you, stiff from dried tears. The weight of Nari’s arm, which had been slung over you at some point in the night, is gone. She’s still here, though.

Curled up beside you, knocked out cold. You should’ve known. Nari was always a deep sleeper, but last night—last night, she stayed up.

She always knocks out first. Always. But last night, she stayed awake, waiting for you to sleep first. Probably because she knew you wouldn’t.

You glance at the ceiling, blinking slowly.

Your body is exhausted, but your mind is still replaying everything in loops.

Your parents.

The dinner.

Jungkook.

His voice.

His silence.

The way he looked at you.

The way he didn’t look at you.

Three weeks. He had three weeks left, and he wasn’t even going to tell you.

You inhale sharply. Throat tight. The thought should hurt.

But instead, you just feel like…static. A long, droning sound in the back of your head that won’t go away.

Eventually, Nari stirs.

She groans, stretches, then pops her head up up without a word. She doesn’t look at you immediately.

Just rubs at her face before swinging her legs over yours, sighing heavily.

And then— “We are not going to work today.”

It’s not a suggestion. It’s a statement. You don’t argue. Just exhale, closing your eyes.

Your boss is going to freak.

As if summoned by your thoughts, your phone vibrates aggressively on the nightstand.

You barely register the caller ID before you answer, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Where are you, my darling!?”

You wince. Your boss’s voice is already dramatic as hell first thing in the morning.

“We miss you so much,” he continues, not even giving you a second to answer. “Everyone is looking for you—your regulars, my dear customers, even the damn coffee machine won’t start without you. It’s broken in your absence. The diner is nothing without you, my sweet angel—”

You fake a cough into your fist.

“I’m sick.”

A beat of silence.

Then, suspiciously, “You don’t sound sick.”

Before you can respond, Nari—who was previously lying face down into the pillow—suddenly lifts her head and groggily groans,

“Oh my god, I’m so fucking tired, bitch.”

Your eyes widen. You slap a hand over her mouth so fast. But it’s too late.

There’s a long, long pause on the other end of the call.

And then, “Is that Nari?”

You sigh.

“Yes.”

“My other darling? My other baby?”

You don’t even know what to say.

Nari, meanwhile, is staring at you, eyes narrowed, clearly trying to process what the hell is going on.

“We’re sick,” you repeat weakly. “I promise we’ll be back tomorrow.”

Your boss hums, unconvinced.

Then—

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

Another pause.

Then, finally—

“I love you.”

And then the line clicks.

You blink.

Nari blinks.

And then—

You both burst out cackling.

She flops back into the pillows, groaning, “What the fuck?”

“Our boss.”

“He’s obsessed with us.”

“I know.” You both laugh for a while, but it doesn’t last long. Because then. The silence creeps in again. And with it—everything else. Your smile fades. Nari notices.

She doesn’t say anything—just nudges your arm gently before pulling you out of bed.

“C’mon,” she says softly. “Let’s make breakfast.”

You both shuffle into the kitchen, still in your pajamas. Neither of you are particularly great at cooking, but Nari makes you try, at least. You attempt to make pancakes. Somehow, they come out crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside. You both look at each other, horrified.

“Is this safe?” Nari murmurs, poking at one with a fork.

You deadpan. “If we die, tell Jungkook I hate him.”

Nari snorts, rolling her eyes. “He already knows.”

You attempt a bite. It’s disgusting. So you order takeout instead.

And then, you both curl up on the couch, burritos in blankets, watching rom-coms.

It’s nice, for a while.

The movies are cheesy. The food is objectively bad for you. The apartment is dimly lit by your closed curtains, the only sound filling the room is the over-exaggerated dramatic background music of the film.

And then—

Somewhere between a Titanic rerun and a Legally Blonde binge, it happens.

You’re staring at the screen.

A happy couple is kissing. The music swells.

And suddenly, “Fuck you, Jungkook.”

The words leave your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them. You grab a piece of chocolate and chuck it at the screen.

Nari startles. You don’t stop. You throw another one.

And another.

Mascara ruining your face, wrapped in your blanket like a cocoon, ugly crying in real time—

“Fuck you, Jungkook,” you sob, chucking another piece of chocolate.

“Fuck you for—” throw “—lying to me—” throw “—for making me think—” throw “—for leaving—”

Nari is watching, wide-eyed, rubbing your back.

“You’re in your Elle Woods era right now,” she murmurs, amused.

You sniff. “She had a better ending than me.”

Nari sighs, squeezing your arm.

“You will have a better ending than this.”

You don’t know if she’s right. But right now—You need to believe it.

It starts with rom-coms. It ends with wine. A lot of wine. You and Nari should’ve known better.

It starts off innocent—just a bottle, just a few glasses, just something to take the edge off after a long day of doing absolutely nothing.

But then— Oh, you think. Wine tastes good. So you have another glass. And then another.

And then suddenly, the two of you are sat on the couch, legs tangled over each other, deep in a drunk spiral that neither of you can pull out of. The TV is still playing in the background, but neither of you are watching anymore.

You’re both just talking. Well. More like crying. You start it.

Sniffling, wiping at your nose aggressively, voice thick as you grumble, “I hate him.” Nari, equally drunk, hums into her glass.

“Bitch, please.”

You glare. “I do.”

“Right.” She nods. “And I’m a nun.”

You huff, sinking into the couch, gripping your blanket tighter around you. “I hate him,” you repeat. But your voice cracks. Nari doesn’t call you out on it, though.

Because, for the first time tonight—

She’s crying, too.

You both just sit there, staring at each other, faces blotchy and wet.

Then, suddenly, Nari groans, rubbing aggressively at her face.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad I don’t have a boyfriend.”

You blink at her. “You literally cry about not having a boyfriend all the time.”

“Yeah, but—” She gestures wildly at you. “Look at you right now.”

You scoff. “Rude.”

She grins. “Love you.”

“Whatever.”

She giggles. Then— You don’t know what compels you to do it.

Maybe it’s the wine. Maybe it’s the desperation. Maybe it’s the fact that—deep down—you don’t actually hate him.

But before you even realize what you’re doing, you pull out your phone.

You hover over his name in your contacts, fingers trembling, heart pounding.

And then—You tap the voice message button.

Nari, through her haze, immediately senses danger.

Her eyes widen. “What are you doing?”

You sniff, still crying. “I don’t know.”

“You better not—”

But you’re already speaking, slurry and all.

“I miss you.”

Nari lunges.

“NO—”

Too late. Your finger slips. The message sends. A long, long silence follows.

You stare at your phone, wide-eyed. Nari stares at your phone, horrified.

You both turn to each other at the same time.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

You shriek.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!”

Nari snatches your phone, unlocking it so fast you don’t even process it. You lunge for it. “Nari—”

“YOU JUST BEGGED FOR HIM.”

“I WAS DRUNK—”

“YOU’RE STILL DRUNK.”

She shoves your face away as you try to grab it.

“No, no, no, NO—”

She fumbles with your phone.

“DELETE DELETE DELETE—”

Your phone buzzes. You both freeze. A message. From Jungkook.

You both stare.

Then—

Nari, not even hesitating, launches your phone across the couch.

“NOPE.”

“NARI—”

“NOPE. WE ARE NOT DEALING WITH THIS TONIGHT.”

“But what if he—”

“NOPE.”

You pout. “I wanna see what he said.”

“No, you don’t.”

You pause. Then—You sigh. Flop onto the couch. Bury your face in a pillow. And accept your fate.

At some point, you get stupid. And by stupid, you mean—you sneak off to the bathroom. Like an idiot. You don’t even make it subtle.

You just go, wiping aggressively at your tears, swaying a little from the wine, locking the door behind you. And then—You open your phone.

Nari’s outside in seconds.

She bangs on the door. “BITCH, I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING—”

You giggle.

But also—sniffle.

You don’t know why you’re crying again.You don’t even feel sad anymore. You can’t.

But for some reason—this whole situation is so stupid that you can’t help but laugh and sob at the same time.

You unlock the message.

Jungkook’s name glares at you.

One new message.

You hesitate.

Then, you open it.

It’s just a short recording.

You press play.

His voice, thick and hoarse, fills the tiny bathroom.

“Baby…”

You freeze.

“Are you drunk? Please don’t do this to me.”

Your breath catches.

“Please text me, call me, anything.” The sound of him sniffling. Your heart lurches.

“I love you.” Your stomach twists.

I love you?

Surely he doesn’t mean it.

You brush it off, pretending it doesn’t make your heart beat stupidly fast in your chest.

“I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m so sorry, baby. Please, just… don’t hate me.”

A shaky inhale.

“I can’t—I can’t do this without you.”

And then— The recording ends. You just stare at your screen. Your chest aches.

You hate him.

You hate him.

You hate him.

You hate how he can just say those words and make you feel everything you’re trying so hard to push down. You feel sick. You feel stupid. You feel like—

Maybe you don’t hate him at all.

Suddenly— The door rattles.

Nari kicks it.

“YN, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW BEFORE I BREAK IT DOWN—”

You startle. Fumble to turn your phone off.

“I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING—”

“BULLSHIT.”

You giggle.

“YOU’RE FUCKING CRYING, AREN’T YOU?”

“…No?”

“YOU ARE!”

Another bang.

“I swear to god—”

You sigh dramatically, unlocking the door. The second you do— Nari snatches your phone out of your hands.

“NOPE.”

You gasp. “HEY—”

“NOPE. GIVE ME THAT SHIT.”

She drags you to the bedroom. Practically throws you onto the bed.

“I’M LOCKING YOUR PHONE AWAY.”

You groan. “That’s so dramatic—”

“YOU’RE DRUNK AND EMOTIONAL.”

You pout.

Nari glares.

Then—

She flops onto the bed next to you.

And just like that—

You both knock out.

…

But not before—

You suddenly sit up, eyes wide.

A horrified gasp rips out of your throat.

“SHIT.”

Nari jerks awake.

“What?” she slurs. “What happened?”

You grab her arm, shaking her violently. “WE PROMISED OUR BOSS WE��D BE IN TOMORROW—”

Nari’s brain short-circuits. She blinks, then “Oh, fuck.”

You both just stare at each other.

You let out a synchronized scream.

Poor neighbors

[fivestaralien]

star gazing

-> yunho x gn!reader

warnings+”: sooo fluffyyy, yuyu and reader are so into each other, lmk if I missed anything! word count: 896 notes ִֶָ ࣪˖sooo, I will be taking a bit of a break. my dog wont be with us much longer so I am going to spend all the time I have left with him as uninterrupted as possible. I wanted to get this out as a way to say thank you for 500 followers! that's fucking insane and genuinely made me tear up a little. You all mean the world to me and I cant wait to come back and release more fics! stay safe and be gentle with yourselves<3

//

Restless. 

 No matter how hard you try, you are completely restless. Tonight's method to help you sleep is having rain/thunderstorm sounds on. You have tried this before and it worked a little so you have a little hope. You crack open your window, the cool breeze letting you take the opportunity to get out your heated, weighted blanket. 

 It works for a couple of hours but your mind has other plans. The haze over your eyes dissipates a few minutes after you wake up and you lay there, defeated. Sleep, like usual, doesn’t come again and the rain sounds do nothing to keep your loud, draining thoughts at bay. 

 The bedroom door cracks open and your boyfriend, Yunho, carefully makes his way inside. Since he doesn’t greet you like usual, you can assume he doesn’t realize you were wide awake. You call out to him and Yunho immediately pops his head out of the closet. 

 “One second baby. I’m going to change really quickly.” He quiets your stubborn mind in seconds. 

 A quiet calm washes over you as Yunho’s presence gives you the comfort you’ve been craving the past few nights. When the bed dips behind you, you twist your body to lay flat and turn your head to face him. You feel the way your shoulders sag and legs relax against the mattress while he nestles right up against your side. The tension in your body leaving right as Yunho’s hand costs up and down your side. 

 “Have you been able to sleep at all tonight?” He asks, lips squished against the crown of your head.

 You pull away slightly and hold up two fingers. 

 “Wow! Two whole hours? That’s a new record!” The genuine smile that spreads across your face from his praise, lights up the entire room. 

 Yunho brings his hand from your side up to cup the side of your face, pulling you in for a sweet kiss, “proud of you.” he mumbles against your mouth. 

 You take hold of his wrist, using it to pull him closer to you. After you pull away for air, he guides your head back against his chest, tugging your leg to wrap around his waist. 

 “Do you feel tired right now?” 

 You shake your head. 

 “Want to go to our spot?” Adoration glazes over Yunho’s stare at the way your face lights up, “I'll take that as a yes. Go set up the ladder while I get the blankets.”

  After enthusiastically cradling his face and kissing him passionately, you practically leap from the bed. By the time Yunho makes his way out back, you are sitting on the awning, slightly swinging your legs. 

 “How’s the weather up there?” He teases, grabbing onto your ankle that is right at his eye line. 

 “How does it feel to tell that joke instead of hear it?” You get an eye roll and an ankle squeeze in return. A glitter filled laugh passes your lips. 

 With the two blankets under his arm, Yunho carefully steps up the ladder, thanking you when you come and grab them from him. Once you put them in the perfect position he lays out on his back, linking hands with you when you lay next to him. 

 “Do you think we will be able to see Jupiter tonight?” Yunho looks at you only to see that you were already staring at him. 

 You lean up to hover over him. Slowly leaning down to connect your lips to his. Yunho grasps your hips firmly to help hold you up, happily returning the love you were pouring into the kiss. He guides your body to fully rest your weight on top of him as he feels your arms shake slightly. A few minutes later you plant a couple of firm pecks on him before rolling onto your back again. 

 “Definitely. Plus I looked it up while waiting for you and it should be right above us in about an hour or so.” 

 “You’re amazing, you know that?” Your brows furrow at his sudden compliment. Your silence encourages him to continue his unprompted confession. 

 “Just your presence alone has the power to bring me to my knees. Life doesn’t make sense unless I have you a part of it. I love you.” 

 The confident yet gentleness, paired with the deep tone of his voice sends goosebumps to rise along your skin. Yunho squeezes your hand, getting you to look towards him again.

 “I mean it.” 

 His reassurance causes your heart to soar. So many emotions are whirling through you right now, the words you want to say get stuck in your throat. 

 Right as you look up to the sky, a shooting star flies by. You sit up quickly, pointing to where it passed by. Yunho’s chest is pressed right up against your back as he follows your lead. When you glance back at him, he is still looking at you. 

 The emotions he so obviously lets you see swimming in them makes a fierce blush bloom across your cheeks. You elbow his rib softly, motioning up towards the sky. He still refuses so you ask why he won't look. Yunho cradles the left side of your face, tilting your head up to meet his eyes better. 

 “I have the most beautiful start right in front of me. Why would I need to look anywhere else?”

//

if you enjoyed lmk! my messages are open!

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[biteyoubiteme]

Im so ready to lock into this ive been waiting and it wasnt even that long bc rain is amazing but still im on the edge of my seat omfg- also i love pregancy trope im not even sorry its like a comfort fic i swear i cant turn them away- Your breath catches in your throat. A dull roaring fills your ears, like the moment before a crash, when you see the impact coming but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You blink once, twice, waiting for the second line to disappear, for reality to snap back into place. It doesn’t. It stays. EEEEEKKKK THE WRITING ALREADY ><

Your mind flickers through the memories—late nights tangled in sheets, whispered jokes between kisses, the unspoken agreement that this wasn’t supposed to mean anything. It was fun. Easy. No strings attached. Except now, there are strings. Big, life-altering, impossible-to-ignore strings. STTOOOOOOOPPPPP I LOOVEE IT SM- 

What are you supposed to do? You’re in your second year of college. You have plans, dreams, a future that doesn’t include cribs and lullabies and tiny fingers clutching at yours. You can’t be a mother. Not now. Maybe not ever. And Jake? Is it too soon to say i love this so so so so so so much already??? Because i do ;-;-;--;-;- tiny fingers clutching agt yours- stop im going to cry- 

Except he was too busy pulling his girlfriend into a random room to really celebrate much. Heeeey its my pookies from collide- 

A breathless laugh escaped you between kisses, the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in your veins. “I just came to say congrats.” Jake grinned against your lips. “This is how you say congrats?” You smirked. “I was gonna buy you a beer, but—” His hands slid down your sides, rough and familiar, pulling you flush against him. “This is better.” I LOVE THEM OMG- 

And now, in just a few hours, you’ll be lying on an exam table, hearing a doctor tell you how far along you are. How long ago your life changed without you even knowing. The thought makes your stomach twist, nausea curling in your throat. You’re so lost in your thoughts that when your phone rings, the sudden sound makes you jump. It’s Jake. Your heart stops. His name flashes on the screen, bold and unmistakable, and for a second, you consider letting it ring. But that’s suspicious. You never ignore Jake’s calls. That would only make him ask questions.So, you force yourself to breathe, force yourself to steady your voice, and answer. “Hey.” “Hey,” he echoes, his voice easy, warm. There’s the faint sound of voices and clattering sticks in the background, and you picture him in the locker room, probably shoving his gear into his bag while talking to you. The image is so painfully normal that it makes your chest ache. “What are you up to tonight?” he asks, casual, unaware of the chaos inside you. “Practice should be done around eight. You wanna come over?” stop i love how the world is falling apart for reader but jake is just like ‘hi’ lmao like the normality mixed in the angst is killing me i love it sm and im just eating it up uuuughghgh

Jake: Practice just ended. Thinking about you. Okay supposed mr. friends with benefits…..

Jake exhales, his expression softening as he reaches up, brushing his fingers over the side of your face like he’s trying to pull you back to him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. “You’ve been ignoring me all day.” OMGOMGOGMGOGMGOMGOGMGOGMOGMGOGMOMG

“Did I… do something?” His voice is quieter now, more cautious. NOOOOOO what if i screamed and cried and threw up bc no no no he is just a boy pleek “Because if I did, just—tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” His jaw clenches. “I just—fuck, I don’t know—I miss you.” Your heart stutters. You stare at him, the weight of his words pressing into your ribs, making it even harder to breathe. “I’ve wanted to run here to you all week, tell you about my game, watch movies with you. Anything, but you're shutting me out.” This is Jake. You’re jake. And suddenly all of it feels so much worse. ILL FIX IT OMFG HE WILL BREAK ME- 

“This is your only chance to take the out.” Jake’s brows pull together slightly, but he still says nothing. You swallow the lump in your throat. “If you don’t want this, if you don’t want to be responsible for a baby, you can walk away. Right now.” Your voice shakes. “No one would blame you. I won’t blame you.” Jake blinks. Still silent. Still motionless. Your heart slams against your ribs. You hate this. Hate this. Hate that you don’t know what’s going through his head. Hate that you feel this vulnerable, this exposed, this small. You force yourself to look him in the eyes. “I know hockey is your life..” You trail. “ I know that’s what you’re thinking about right now. You forget that before..this, we were friends. good friends. I know what hockey means to you and I would never in a million years ask for you to choose. So I'm giving you a choice. be a dad or walk away. Neither of those involve not playing hockey. but i’m telling you right now. if you choose this, if you’re all in you better be all in because this is your only time to tap out. don’t get my hopes up then crush them when it gets too hard because i’ll never forgive you for that.” STTTTOOOOOOOP IM ON MY KNEES PLS NO- also if he took the out i wouldnt forgive him whoops- but gosh i love this sm uuuuughgghghhgh

“You’re in?” You ask with a strained voice. “I’m in.” ><EEEEEKKKK me when i know the outcome and still act shocked lol- 

A few days later, a jersey appears on the back of your desk chair. One of Jake’s, the fabric worn in places, his last name sprawled across the back in bold letters. You pick it up, running your fingers over the lettering. There’s a note tucked into the sleeve. "Just in case you need something warm." Your breath catches. And im kicking my feet and twirling my hair rn 

And then, before he can even stop it — He’s crying. Right there, in the middle of the locker room, surrounded by his teammates, Jake fucking breaks. STTTTOOOOOOPPPPP you know i love it when they cry- 

“I just—I need to see her.” okay so i love him- 

He’s sitting on your bed like he belongs there, UUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

“Are you gonna sleep with other girls?” you know what she is so real for this bc i would be asking the same thing lmao- 

Jake makes a low sound in his throat, his grip tightening slightly, his other hand sliding down to your waist. His fingers skim the hem of your shirt, hesitate — Then he pulls away just slightly, forehead resting against yours, breathing hard. “Are you—” His voice is hoarse, strained. “Are you sure?” You nod. Jake studies you for a moment, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. But when he finds none, his lips crash into yours again. And this time  Neither of you stop. Jake kisses you like he’s making up for lost time. IM GOING CRAZY UUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH I LOVE THIS SM SM SM SM SM 

The thought creeps in, slow but merciless. If this is what his schedule looks like now—morning practices, late-night workouts, weekend-long away games—what the hell is it going to look like when he goes pro? Because he will. You know it as sure as you know the sun will rise in the morning. Jake was built for this. It’s what he’s worked for, what he’s bled for. Hockey isn’t just something he loves. It’s his future. And where the hell do you fit into that? I love the first line sm but uuuuggghhhh stop i love the angst but im hurting already- 

“Then tell me what’s going on,” he says, stepping closer. “Tell me why you suddenly don’t want me around. Why are you acting like I’m already failing at something I haven’t even gotten the chance to do yet.” The words hit you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You don’t mean to let it slip out, but suddenly, it’s there.The fear that’s been clawing at you, the doubt that’s been growing like a weed. “Because I don’t know if you can do it, Jake.” Silence. Oh no no no no no no no it hurts why would you do this to me pleek no no no no no no- 

You can’t just say it, Jake. You have to prove it.” Jake flinches like the words sting, like they land somewhere deep inside him GIRL HAS HE NOT BEEN DOING THIS THE WHOLE FIC WTF- PLSSSS

And then, Sunghoon goes down. Your breath stutters as you watch him crash against the ice, his body crumpling on impact. He tries to get up, his gloved hands pressing against the rink, but something is wrong. His leg. You can tell immediately. The way he winces, the way his teammates circle him in concern, the way the trainer rushes onto the ice. The cameras cut in close. His face is tight with pain. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The moment it happens, you feel it, the wrongness. The guy comes in too fast. The check is too high, too hard, too reckless. And Jake never sees it coming. Your breath stops. Jake’s body is airborne before he crashes into the boards with a force that shakes the glass. The sound of it is sickening,a violent collision of bone, plexiglass, ice. His head snaps back. His helmet slams against the wall with a brutal crack. And then he slumps. He doesn’t move. SSTTTTOOOOPP THIS PAIN THIS MADNESS YOU HATE ME JUST SAY IT JUST SAY YOU WANT ME TO FEEL PAIN- 

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” he murmurs. “I’m staying. I’m gonna be here for you, for the baby… for us.” The words resonate deep inside you, a wave of warmth flooding your chest. You don’t know what the future holds, but in this moment, you believe him. You lean your forehead against his, closing your eyes as the world seems to slow down. The hurt, the uncertainty, all of it seems to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your hearts beating in sync. “I love you,” you whisper. And this time, it’s not a question. It’s not something you’re trying to convince yourself of. It’s just the truth. He smiles, the familiar glint of something unbreakable in his eyes. “I love you, too.” In that moment, you realize that everything’s been leading to this, a moment of vulnerability, of surrender, of knowing that no matter what comes next, you’ve got each other. And maybe that’s all you really need. SSSSOOOOBBBBIIINNNGGGGG

“Win or lose; I want to come home to you,” Jake had said to you not long ago, those words echoing in your memory like a melody. They settle in your heart like a promise, something real, something that matters. The door opens softly, and you look up to see Jake reentering the room, his eyes catching yours immediately. His smile, though small, is genuine, and you feel your breath catch in your chest. The way he looks at you, the way his hand rests against your back once more as he steps closer. it’s as if he’s still trying to wrap his mind around the miracle of everything that’s happening.

“We’re gonna be okay, right?” he asks, his voice full of tenderness, vulnerability slipping in beneath the surface. You nod slowly, your hand resting over your belly as you meet his gaze. “We already are, Jake. I already know we are.” stop they are so cute ;-;-;; 

“Win or lose,” he whispers, echoing the words he had said to you weeks ago. “I’ll always come home to you.” ;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;; uuuuugggh i loved this sm i wanna sob and beg you for 20k more pleek- no but seriously i loved it sm 

OFF THE ICE s.jy

synopsis ⤑ You were having fun. That’s all. You were young, in college, readying yourself for true adulthood. You didn’t know adulthood would come so quick, in the form of a baby you didn’t plan for. With a man who was more in love with Hockey than anything else. This wasn’t supposed to happen, and it definitely wasn’t supposed to happen with him.

pairings ⤑ hockey player!Jake x pregnant!reader word count ⤑ 18k

warnings ⤑ pregnancy trope, smut, friends with benefits, angst , depictions of hockey injuries , probably more

crossing the line series.

read heeseung's story here.

Two pink lines. 

They stare back at you, unwavering. Bold. Permanent. 

Your breath catches in your throat. A dull roaring fills your ears, like the moment before a crash, when you see the impact coming but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You blink once, twice, waiting for the second line to disappear, for reality to snap back into place. It doesn’t. It stays. Pregnant. A hollow, sinking feeling settles in your stomach. No. No, no, no. This can’t be real. Your fingers tighten around the plastic stick, your knuckles aching from the grip. You were careful. You were always careful. Birth control, condoms, every precaution. You did everything right. So how the hell did this happen? 

You shake your head, your breathing ragged. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe the test is faulty. They mess up sometimes, right? You should take another one. Five more. Ten. You should drive to the store right now and buy every test on the shelf, because this? This can’t be happening. Your legs feel unsteady beneath you as you sink onto the closed toilet lid, one hand gripping the edge of the sink to ground yourself. 

Jake. His name crashes through your thoughts, and a fresh wave of nausea rises up in your throat. Oh my god. There’s only one person it could be. Jake. Your friend. Your friend with benefits. You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing the heels of your palms against them. Your mind flickers through the memories—late nights tangled in sheets, whispered jokes between kisses, the unspoken agreement that this wasn’t supposed to mean anything. It was fun. Easy. No strings attached. Except now, there are strings. Big, life-altering, impossible-to-ignore strings. 

Your stomach lurches. You press a hand to it instinctively, but it’s still just you. Just your body, your life—except it’s not just yours anymore, is it? A shuddering breath leaves you, and suddenly, you feel so, so small. What are you supposed to do? You’re in your second year of college. You have plans, dreams, a future that doesn’t include cribs and lullabies and tiny fingers clutching at yours. You can’t be a mother. Not now. Maybe not ever. And Jake? 

Jake has hockey. The game is his whole world—the early-morning practices, the late-night workouts, the way his eyes light up when he steps onto the ice. He has a career to chase, a future that doesn’t include this. 

This will ruin everything. Tears burn at the edges of your vision, but you blink them away. You can’t cry. Not yet. Not until you’re sure, not until you go to the doctor and they tell you this is all some cruel mistake. Because if it’s not… You swallow hard, gripping the test so tightly it feels like it might snap in half. You can’t tell him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. If you don’t say it out loud, if you don’t give it weight, maybe it won’t be real. Maybe you can find a way to make this all go away. But deep down, beneath the panic, beneath the sheer, suffocating terror— You already know. This is real. And there’s no undoing it. 

Your breath shudders as you stare at the test, the past clawing its way back to you. You’re racking your brain trying to find when the two of you went wrong, when you stopped being careful. You know exactly how. The memory slams into you, sharp and unforgiving—that night. 

Two months ago. 

The house was packed. Bodies pressed together, the air thick with heat and sweat and the sharp bite of liquor. Music pounded through the speakers, rattling the walls, the bass thrumming through your chest. The whole hockey team was celebrating their win, and Jake was at the center of it all, grinning like he owned the night. Heeseung had won it all, again. Except he was too busy pulling his girlfriend into a random room to really celebrate much. 

You weren’t even supposed to be here—you had a paper due, an exam creeping up—but when Jake texted “Where are you? We won. Get your ass over here,” you rolled your eyes, threw on something half-decent, and showed up anyway. And now you were here. Back pressed against a bathroom door, your fingers tangled in Jake’s hoodie, his mouth hot against yours. A breathless laugh escaped you between kisses, the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in your veins. “I just came to say congrats.” 

Jake grinned against your lips. “This is how you say congrats?” You smirked. “I was gonna buy you a beer, but—” 

His hands slid down your sides, rough and familiar, pulling you flush against him. “This is better.” And god, it was. You had always liked this about Jake—how easy it was, how uncomplicated. No messy feelings, no awkward expectations. Just heat, just want, just the press of his body against yours as he backed you up against the bathroom sink. Your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging it up, your mouths moving together in that frantic, greedy way they always did when neither of you could be bothered to make it back to one of your apartments. 

“Quickie?” you breathed against his lips, teasing. Jake groaned, already fumbling with your jeans. “Fuck, yeah.” It was fast. Dizzying. His hands were everywhere, pushing, pulling, unzipping. Your back hit the counter, your fingers in his hair, his mouth tracing fire along your throat. Your skin was hot, your pulse erratic, and nothing else mattered—not the party raging outside the door, not the alcohol humming through your system, not the fact that you weren’t exactly thinking. 

It wasn’t until he was pressed against you, skin to skin, that something in the back of your mind lurched. You blinked up at him, breathless. “Wait—do you have a—” 

Jake cursed under his breath. “Shit. No. I didn’t—” He moved like he was about to pull back, but god, you wanted him. The ache was unbearable, your body screaming at you to just— “It’s fine,” you whispered. You’re on the pill. It’s just one time. Jake hesitated, his hands gripping your waist like he was giving himself a second to think, but then your mouth was on his again, and whatever sliver of self-restraint he had vanished. 

With one delicious roll of his hips against yours he was a goner. “Holy- f-fuck.” Jake hissed, his mouth agape and eyes heavy lidded as he looked down at where the two of you were perfectly intertwined. “Fuck. Fuck.” 

“How’s that feeling, champion?” You purred in his ear, your hands playing in his hair as he continued his assault on your pussy. 

“Such a pretty pussy..” Jake groaned. His grip on your thighs was almost bruising but you didn't care, you welcomed the pain. Your head leaned back, hitting the mirror as moans fell from your lips like a mantra. Jake’s lips found the column of your neck sucking and biting at the skin. “You like that, baby?” 

“Uh-huh” You nodded your head finding it hard to find the ability to speak when Jake was doing unspeakable things to you. Jake’s thrusts were starting to become frantic, his moans higher and more frequent as it became apparent he was closer and closer to the edge. The music outside the door thumped, sounds of muffled voices passing by the door fell on deaf ears. You were too wrapped up in the way Jake was making you feel, coupled with the buzz of alcohol flowing through your veins. It was almost euphoric when your orgasm hit. Your legs shaking in Jake’s grip. 

“God-” Jake breathed. Your orgasm served as a catalyst for his own. His hips slamming against yours with finality. It was reckless. It was careless. It was just once. Except once was enough. 

Present day. 

Your stomach lurches. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the memory away, willing yourself back into the safety of denial. But it’s useless. The test is still in your hands. The two pink lines are still staring back at you. And no matter how much you wish you could undo it— You can’t. 

Your hands are still trembling. Your fingers ache from how hard you’re clutching the test, but you can’t let go. If you set it down, if you let it slip from your grasp, that means you’re accepting it. That means this is real.A choked sound slips past your lips before you can stop it. Your vision blurs. Then it happens—you break. 

A sob rips through your chest, raw and unrestrained. You fold in on yourself, pressing a hand over your mouth to smother the sounds, but it doesn’t stop the tears from coming. They fall in hot, messy streaks, slipping down your cheeks, soaking into your shirt. Your whole body shakes with it, shoulders curled forward, knees pulled up as if making yourself smaller might make this moment disappear. But nothing disappears. Nothing changes. You’re still here. Still alone in this room. Still pregnant. 

The word echoes inside your skull, over and over, until it drowns out everything else. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. The panic tightens around your ribs like a vice, and suddenly, you can’t breathe. You gasp, swallowing down air, trying to steady yourself, but it’s like you’re stuck underwater. Like you’re drowning. You don’t know how long you sit there—minutes? Hours? Time blurs, slipping through your fingers like sand. All you know is that you can’t do this. 

You can’t be pregnant. You can’t be a mom. You can’t tell Jake. A fresh wave of nausea churns in your stomach at the thought of him. Of his reaction. Of what this will do to him. To you. Jake, with his whole future mapped out in skates and ice and championships. Jake, who has never even hinted at wanting something serious with you—because this wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Because it never has. And now, you’re carrying something that means everything. You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing the heels of your hands against them. If you don’t see the test, if you don’t look at it, maybe—maybe—No.

You inhale sharply, forcing your mind through the fog of panic. There’s only one thing you can do right now. Only one thing that makes sense. Before you tell Jake—before you even let yourself fully believe this—you need to be sure. A pregnancy test is just plastic and dye. It could be wrong. It could be wrong. A doctor. You need a doctor. 

The thought latches onto you like a lifeline. If you go to the doctor and they tell you this is a mistake—if they tell you that somehow, someway, those pink lines don’t mean what you think they mean—then you can pretend this moment never happened. You can wipe it from existence. You have to know. Your phone is on your nightstand, facedown, dark. You force yourself to move, to function. Your limbs feel heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and fear and the sheer impossibility of what’s happening, but somehow, you grab it. Your fingers are still shaking when you pull up the campus clinic’s number. 

You hesitate. Your thumb hovers over the call button, the moment stretching out in front of you. Because if you make this appointment—if you hear a doctor say the words out loud— Then it’s real. And once it’s real, you can never go back. A single tear drips onto the phone screen, smudging the numbers. You close your eyes. And you press call. 

The next day feels like a fever dream. You go through the motions, pretending your world hasn’t tilted off its axis. But every breath, every step, every blink reminds you that something is different. That there’s something inside you—growing, forming, changing everything. You haven’t said a word to anyone. 

Yuna had texted this morning to let you know she was crashing at her friend’s place again. You almost told her. You almost begged her to come home, to sit with you, to make you feel like you weren’t completely alone in this—but you couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not until the doctor confirms what you already know deep in your bones. So, you’ve spent the entire day in silence. Sitting with this information like a stone in your gut, waiting for the inevitable unraveling. 

You didn’t sleep last night. Every time you closed your eyes, the thoughts crept in—images of Jake, of your future, of what this means for the rest of your life. Of every possibility, every terrible outcome. You’ve always thought of pregnancy as some far-off, abstract concept—something that happened to other people, to people who were ready, to people who wanted it. But not you. Never you. 

And now, in just a few hours, you’ll be lying on an exam table, hearing a doctor tell you how far along you are. How long ago your life changed without you even knowing. The thought makes your stomach twist, nausea curling in your throat. You’re so lost in your thoughts that when your phone rings, the sudden sound makes you jump. It’s Jake. Your heart stops. His name flashes on the screen, bold and unmistakable, and for a second, you consider letting it ring. But that’s suspicious. You never ignore Jake’s calls. That would only make him ask questions.

So, you force yourself to breathe, force yourself to steady your voice, and answer. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” he echoes, his voice easy, warm. There’s the faint sound of voices and clattering sticks in the background, and you picture him in the locker room, probably shoving his gear into his bag while talking to you. The image is so painfully normal that it makes your chest ache. “What are you up to tonight?” he asks, casual, unaware of the chaos inside you. “Practice should be done around eight. You wanna come over?” 

Your grip tightens around the phone. It’s a simple question. A question you’ve answered a hundred times before with some variation of yeah, sure or your place or mine? But tonight, everything is different, and Jake has no idea. You swallow hard, throat dry. “I—I can’t.” 

He pauses. “Why not?” Because in less than two hours, I’ll be staring at an ultrasound screen, listening to a doctor tell me how many weeks pregnant I am. Because I don’t know how to look you in the eye, knowing that inside me—inside us—something is changing, something we never planned for, never wanted. “I'm sick,” you say instead. It’s a rushed excuse, flimsy and weak. “I think I caught something.” 

Jake hums, like he doesn’t quite buy it but isn’t ready to push. “You okay?” No. Not even close. 

“Yeah,” you lie. “Just tired. I think I just need to sleep it off.” Another pause. You know Jake well enough to know he’s debating whether or not to call you out. But finally, he just sighs. “Alright. Let me know if you need anything.” 

His voice is so normal. So Jake. And for a moment, you almost break. You almost say, Actually, there is something I need. I need you to know. I need you to tell me what the hell we’re supposed to do now. I need you to promise that I’m not in this alone. But the words don’t come. Instead, you rush out, “I gotta go,” before he can say anything else. You don’t wait for his response. You hang up, your hand shaking as you set your phone facedown beside you. 

The room is too quiet again. Your heart is pounding, adrenaline making your whole body feel light and untethered. You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep pretending you’re fine when everything inside you is breaking apart. And yet, that’s exactly what you do. You wipe at your face, stand up, and grab your coat. The appointment is waiting. And whether you’re ready or not— You’re about to find out exactly how much time you have left before you have to tell Jake the truth. 

The air outside is sharp, biting against your skin as you step out of your dorm. It’s early evening, but the sky is already dark, winter pressing its cold fingers into everything it touches. Streetlights flicker to life, their glow hazy against the fog of your breath as you exhale, pulling your coat tighter around yourself. The clinic isn’t far. Just a short walk across campus. Still, every step feels heavier than the last. 

Your stomach churns with nerves, your hands stuffed deep in your pockets to hide their trembling. The closer you get, the more the reality of what you’re about to do sinks in. There’s no turning back after this. Once the doctor confirms it—once they tell you exactly how far along you are—you’ll have no choice but to face this head-on. No more pretending. No more hoping the test was wrong. You wish Yuna were here. You wish someone was here. 

But instead, you walk into the clinic alone, head ducked, shoulders curled in like you can make yourself disappear. The receptionist barely looks up as you check in, only nodding before motioning toward the chairs in the waiting area. You sit. The room smells like antiseptic and old magazines, too-bright lights buzzing overhead. Your legs bounce restlessly, fingers twisting in your lap. The other people waiting don’t even spare you a glance, but you still feel exposed, like someone could look at you and just know. Your name is called. 

Your body moves on autopilot, following the nurse down the hall, into a room. She asks questions. You answer without really hearing yourself, your voice robotic, like you’re reciting lines for a role you never wanted. Then the real part begins. You lie back on the table, cold gel spread across your stomach. The machine hums to life, and your heart pounds. You don’t know if you want to look. You don’t know if you can. But then the doctor says, “There it is.” And you do. You look. 

The screen is grainy, shifting black and white, impossible to make sense of at first. Then she moves the wand, adjusting the angle, and— Your breath catches. A tiny flicker. Your whole body freezes. “That’s the heartbeat,” the doctor says softly. “Would you like to hear it?” 

Your throat is too tight to answer. You don’t know what you expected, but not this. Not something so small, so fragile, so real. You nod. And then—sound. A rapid, steady rhythm, impossibly fast but undeniably there. Your vision blurs, and it takes you a second to realize you’re crying. 

Because this isn’t just a concept anymore. This isn’t just two pink lines or a mistake or a problem you don’t know how to solve. This is real. And whether you’re ready or not, this is happening. The doctor speaks again, gentle but firm. “You’re about seven weeks along.” 

Seven weeks. You squeeze your eyes shut. Because now there’s a heartbeat. Now there’s a timeline. Now there’s no way out of this moment, no way to pretend it hasn’t already changed you. You leave the clinic with a small printout in your hands, the black-and-white ultrasound photo pressed between your fingers. You don’t even know why you took it. Maybe because part of you knows that after tonight, everything is going to change. And Jake still has no idea. 

Back in the dorm you're still alone, Yuna not having come back yet. You were grateful for that as you just needed the time alone to process. Your phone buzzes. You flinch at the sudden vibration, your fingers tightening around the ultrasound printout still resting in your lap. It takes a second for you to move, to blink, to tear your gaze away from the tiny, grainy image on the paper. Another buzz. Your stomach twists. 

Slowly, like you already know what you’ll see, you reach for your phone and tilt the screen toward you. 

Jake: You feeling any better? 

You stare at the message, your pulse hammering in your throat. A third buzz. 

Jake: Practice just ended. Thinking about you. 

You suck in a sharp breath, a lump forming in your throat so quickly it nearly chokes you. Thinking about you. He doesn’t even realize what those words do to you right now, how they cut straight through your ribs, cracking something open inside you. You can picture him perfectly—his damp hair, his flushed cheeks, the easy way he leans against his locker while texting you, probably half-distracted, expecting you to reply with something simple. Something normal. But nothing is normal. Not anymore. The screen glares up at you, demanding an answer, but your fingers won’t move. 

What could you even say? Actually, I’m in my dorm having just left the doctor, staring at an ultrasound of the baby I never meant to have with you. But don’t worry, I’ll get back to you when I figure out how the hell to tell you. Another buzz. This time, it’s a call and you panic. Your heart slams against your ribs, and before you can stop yourself, you flip the phone over, screen-down, silencing it. The call cuts off. A few seconds later, another text comes through. 

Jake: You good? 

Your breathing is uneven. Your hands are shaking. You can’t do this. Not right now. You toss your phone away on the bed, like that will somehow make it all go away. Like that will somehow delay the inevitable. But you know it won’t you have to tell him soon, or it will eat you alive. 

For the next few hours you sit in silence, still not having left the dorm. The room is quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock above your desk.  You’re curled up beneath your blankets, exhaustion pressing down on you like a weight. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep after getting back from the clinic, but your body had other plans. It wasn’t restful, though. Even in sleep, your mind wouldn’t stop spinning, replaying the sound of that tiny heartbeat over and over and over again. 

Suddenly a soft click of the door was heard. You stir, blinking blearily as the light flicks on. “Hey, are you awake?” Yuna’s voice is gentle, cautious. You push yourself up, rubbing at your eyes as you watch her drop her bag by the door. She looks guilty. “I’m sorry for being gone so long,” she says, brushing a hand through her dark hair. “Our study session ran late, and we figured, why not just turn it into a sleepover? I should’ve texted you more. I feel bad.” 

You shake your head, forcing a small, tired smile. “It’s fine. You don’t have to check in with me every second.” Yuna eyes you for a beat, like she’s trying to gauge if you really mean it. Then she sighs, kicking off her shoes before flopping onto the bed beside you. “I missed anything exciting?” Yes. No. everything. 

You swallow, shaking your head again. “Not really.” Yuna shifts, turning onto her side to face you. Then, her brows furrow. Her eyes scan your face, tracing the dark circles beneath your eyes, the tension in your jaw, the way you keep fidgeting with the edge of your blanket. “Okay, what’s wrong?” she asks, blunt as ever. 

Your heart stutters. “What? Nothing’s wrong.” 

Yuna doesn’t buy it for a second. She gives you a look, her sharp, knowing gaze cutting right through your weak attempt at indifference. “Don’t lie to me.” You open your mouth—ready to deny, to deflect, to do anything but tell the truth—but something inside you breaks. The weight of it all, the sheer impossibility of holding it in any longer, crushes you. You don’t say a word. You just reach under your pillow, where the crumpled ultrasound printout is still hidden, and pull it out with trembling fingers. 

Then, without looking at her, you hold it out. Yuna blinks, confused for a second—until she takes the paper from your hand and sees. Her entire body goes still. Silence. She stares down at the black-and-white image, her lips parting slightly. Her throat works like she wants to say something, but no words come out. Seconds stretch, heavy and suffocating. 

Finally, she looks at you. Her voice is quiet, but sharp with shock. “Is this…?” You nod, your chest tight. Yuna inhales sharply. “Holy shit.” She sits up straighter, like the weight of the moment is finally hitting her. She looks at the ultrasound again, like if she stares long enough, it’ll make sense. Then, eyes wide—voice barely above a whisper—she asks, “…It’s Jake’s? Right?” You let out a dry, humorless laugh, wiping at your face. “Of course, it is.” 

She looks up at you, eyes still wide with shock. “He’s the only one I’ve been with in a year,” you add quietly, voice almost getting lost in the space between you. Yuna swallows, nodding slowly, like she’s just now processing how real this is. Like she’s flipping through all the memories she has of you and Jake—of the nights you’d leave your dorm with a smirk and come back in one of his hoodies, of the way you never quite called him your boyfriend, of the way he was always just there. Her gaze sharpens. “How did he take it?” 

Your stomach twists. You hesitate just a second too long. Yuna’s face drops. “Oh my god.” She leans forward. “You didn’t tell him?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling deeply before shaking your head. Yuna groans, throwing her head back against the headboard. “You have got to be kidding me.” 

“Yuna—” 

“No.” She sits up straight again, looking at you with something between exasperation and concern. “You have to tell him.” 

“I know,” you say, voice tight. “I just—” 

“No,” she interrupts. “Not later, not eventually—you need to tell him now.” You shake your head quickly, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your whole body feels cold, like the weight of this conversation is seeping into your bones. “You don’t get it,” you say, your voice almost breaking. “Jake loves hockey. More than anything. More than school, more than his own goddamn life sometimes.” You sniffle, shaking your head again. “If I tell him this, he’ll—” You stop, choking on the words. 

He’ll what? Walk away? Shut down? Look at you like you’ve just ruined his entire world? You don’t even know. That’s the problem. Yuna softens. She reaches out, placing a warm hand over yours. “Jake is a good guy,” she says gently. “He would never do that to you.” You stare down at your lap, at your fingers twisting in your hoodie sleeves. She says it like it's a fact. Like there’s no question, no possibility of anything else. But she doesn’t know what you know. 

She doesn’t know how much Jake lives for the game, how hockey is the thing that keeps his blood pumping, how he lights up when he talks about it in a way he never has about anything—or anyone—else. She doesn’t know that you’re terrified. Because if you tell Jake, if you say the words out loud— it’s real and it’s scary. 

The tears come fast. Faster than you expect. One second, you’re staring at your lap, chest too tight to breathe. The next, your vision is blurring, and your shoulders shake, and a broken sound rips from your throat before you can stop it. Yuna reacts instantly. “Hey—hey, no, don’t cry,” she says, shifting closer. Her arms wrap around you before you even realize what’s happening, pulling you into the warmth of her embrace. “I got you. It’s okay.” but it’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay. You bury your face into her shoulder, gripping the fabric of her sweatshirt like it’s the only thing tethering you to the earth. She doesn’t let go, just rubs circles into your back as you fall apart. 

“I—I don’t know what to do,” you admit, voice muffled. “I’m so scared, Yuna.” She sighs, resting her chin atop your head. “I know.” A fresh wave of tears spills over. You wish you didn’t feel like this. Wish you could be stronger, steadier, more in control. But right now, you’re none of those things. Right now, you’re just a girl who made a mistake and is staring down the consequences. Yuna squeezes you a little tighter. “Listen, whatever happens, you won’t be alone in this, okay? You have me. And when you tell Jake, you’ll have him too. And even if—even if he’s an idiot about it at first, I’ll kick his ass into shape.” That actually makes you let out a weak, teary laugh. 

Yuna gasps, dramatic as always. “Did you just laugh? Oh my god, it’s a miracle.” You sniffle. “Shut up.” She pulls back just enough to grin at you, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m serious, though. If worst comes to worst, you and I will just get married and raise the baby together. Two badass moms against the world.” 

A laugh bubbles out of you, real this time. “You’d hate being married to me.” 

“Yeah, but I’d do it out of love. I’d be the hot, rich, wine-drunk mom. You’d be the stressed one who has to actually parent.” You roll your eyes, but the weight in your chest feels just a little bit lighter. Yuna smiles. “See? You’re gonna be okay.” and you think, maybe she’s right, maybe you will be okay. 

The next day feels like a blur. Again. Like you’re going through the motions of life with no real end goal. You know you have to get up, do something. Tell Jake that he’s going to be a fucking father because the longer you keep this a secret the more its eating you up inside out. 

You spend most of your day in the dorm, curled up on the couch with the TV playing some random show you’re not even paying attention to. The volume is low, just background noise to fill the silence, but it doesn’t stop your mind from racing. Jake has been calling all day. Text after text, call after call—his name keeps flashing on your screen, but you can’t bring yourself to answer. You know you should. You know avoiding him won’t make this easier. But every time you reach for your phone, your stomach twists, and your fingers freeze, and the weight of what you have to tell him slams into you all over again. So you do nothing. 

You let the calls go to voicemail. You leave the texts unread. And now, as the sun sets and the room is cast in a dim, golden glow, you’re still here—still stuck, still waiting, still pretending for just a little longer that none of this is happening. But then there's a knock on your door. And you're scared shitless because you think you know who it is. For a second, you don’t move, barely even breathe. Then another knock—firmer this time. 

Slowly, legs unsteady beneath you, you rise from the couch. Your hands feel cold as you grip the doorknob, pulse hammering in your ears as you turn it and pull the door open. And there he is. Jake. Standing in the dimly lit hallway, his hair still damp from a shower, his brows drawn together in confusion and concern. His eyes—those warm, familiar eyes—scan over you, taking in your messy hair, the exhaustion written all over your face, the way you’re not meeting his gaze. 

He shifts his weight, tilting his head. “…What’s going on with you?” You grip the edge of the door tighter. Your throat closes. Jake exhales, his expression softening as he reaches up, brushing his fingers over the side of your face like he’s trying to pull you back to him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. “You’ve been ignoring me all day.” 

His voice is quieter now, tinged with something almost like worry. You swallow hard and your chest tightens, because this is it. There's no more running because Jake is right here in front of you. Jake doesn’t wait for permission. The second you hesitate, the second you shift like you might try to close the door on him, he pushes inside. 

The door clicks shut behind him, sealing you both in. He stands there, shoulders tense, his eyes scanning over you like he’s trying to read your mind. His brows are furrowed, frustration flickering behind his gaze. “What the hell is going on with you?” he demands. 

Your stomach knots. “Jake—” 

“No, seriously,” he cuts in, voice sharp. “Why the hell have you been ignoring me all day? You haven’t answered a single one of my texts, didn’t pick up any of my calls. I had to come here just to get you to look at me.” You take a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself. The room feels too small, the air too thick. “I told you. I’m sick.” 

Jake scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “That’s bullshit.” Your breath catches. He shakes his head, eyes narrowing as he watches you. “You don’t just disappear like that. You don’t just cut me off without a reason.” He exhales sharply, like he’s trying to keep his temper in check. “Did I… do something?” His voice is quieter now, more cautious. 

“Because if I did, just—tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” His jaw clenches. “I just—fuck, I don’t know—I miss you.” Your heart stutters. You stare at him, the weight of his words pressing into your ribs, making it even harder to breathe. “I’ve wanted to run here to you all week, tell you about my game, watch movies with you. Anything, but you're shutting me out.” This is Jake. You’re jake. And suddenly all of it feels so much worse. 

Your voice is small when you finally speak. “You didn’t do anything.” Jake takes a step closer, searching your face. “Then what is it?” You inhale shakily. Your hands tremble at your sides. Your throat burns. It’s time. There’s no easy way to do this. No way to soften it. 

So you just say it. “I’m pregnant.” 

Silence. It crashes over the room like a tidal wave. Jake doesn’t move, for a moment it looks like he doesn’t even breathe. Completely still. His face goes blank, his lips parting slightly like the words haven’t fully registered. His fingers twitch at his sides, his whole body stiff with shock. You stare at him, heart pounding, waiting—waiting for something. Some kind of reaction. Some kind of response. But he doesn’t say a word. Your stomach twists. He just keeps standing there, frozen, staring at you like you’ve just rewritten his entire reality. And maybe you had. 

You bite your lip, blinking back the burn in your eyes. When you finally speak again, your voice is quieter. Sharper. “This is your only chance to take the out.” Jake’s brows pull together slightly, but he still says nothing. You swallow the lump in your throat. “If you don’t want this, if you don’t want to be responsible for a baby, you can walk away. Right now.” Your voice shakes. “No one would blame you. I won’t blame you.” Jake blinks. Still silent. Still motionless. Your heart slams against your ribs. You hate this. Hate this. Hate that you don’t know what’s going through his head. Hate that you feel this vulnerable, this exposed, this small. 

You force yourself to look him in the eyes. “I know hockey is your life..” You trail. “ I know that’s what you’re thinking about right now. You forget that before..this, we were friends. good friends. I know what hockey means to you and I would never in a million years ask for you to choose. So I'm giving you a choice. be a dad or walk away. Neither of those involve not playing hockey. but i’m telling you right now. if you choose this, if you’re all in you better be all in because this is your only time to tap out. don’t get my hopes up then crush them when it gets too hard because i’ll never forgive you for that.” 

Jake just stands there. Still silent. Still unreadable. 

“Why are you not saying anything?” You whispered brokenly, the silence almost too much to bear. “Please say something.” 

Finally, Jake’s mouth opens but then it shuts again like he’s trying to find the ability to speak. Like a failing fish out of water. It’s nerve wracking, your body feels like it's on fire. “Please Jake.” You beg, at your wits end. 

“You’re giving me an out..” He trailed off, and your heart sank at the words. Was he really going to walk away and leave you to raise a baby alone? The thought terrified you to no end. “You’re giving me an out and a very big part of me is screaming at me to take it. it would be the smart thing, the easy thing and maybe the best thing for my career. My brain is ticking, yelling over and over ‘take the out, take the out. but there is a small part of me that outways the rest, a part that won’t let me be like the man who didn’t have the guts to raise me. that refuses to leave this kid, my kid, without a father. so, yes I'm quiet and yes I'm not saying anything. because my mind is going to war trying to think of a way to be a dad and a damn good hockey player at the sametime.” 

“Okay.” You said simply. And for a while you both sat in silence, neither of you finding the right words to say. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Did you figure it out?” You asked him. Jake’s eyes closed, a deep breath falling from his lips. 

“No.” He said simply, “but I will.” Your head shot up in surprise, your eyes wide and glassy with tears threatening to spill. 

“You’re in?” You ask with a strained voice. 

“I’m in.” 

Jake and yourself had a lot more that you had to talk about, that was for sure. But the confirmation of him staying and raising this baby with you had definitely lifted a large weight off your shoulders and although you were less terrified it didn’t mean you were prepared. You were having a baby for god's sake. That scared you to death. And you weren't sure if you were entirely ready for it. 

Over the next few weeks Jake does things that prove he's all in. The first time Jake shows up, you don’t expect it. You step out of the campus doors, arms wrapped around yourself, still shaken from your last appointment. The air is crisp, biting at your skin as you take a deep breath, trying to center yourself. And then you hear it. The sound of footsteps. The rustling of fabric. And then - “Hey.” Your head snaps up. Jake is there, leaning against the side of his car, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His hair is messy like he’s been running his hands through it all day, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder like he just came from practice. 

Your stomach flips. “What are you doing here?” you ask. Jake shrugs, pushing off the car. “Thought you might need a ride.” 

​​You hesitate, tightening your grip on the sleeve of your hoodie. “I can take the bus,” you say, voice quiet. Jake raises a brow. “You could. Or you could let me drive you home.” You don’t have the energy to argue. Not today. So you nod. Jake doesn’t say much on the ride back. He keeps his eyes on the road, hands gripping the wheel, but every so often, his gaze flickers toward you — like he’s checking to make sure you’re still there. 

It keeps happening. 

A few days later, a jersey appears on the back of your desk chair. One of Jake’s, the fabric worn in places, his last name sprawled across the back in bold letters. You pick it up, running your fingers over the lettering. There’s a note tucked into the sleeve. "Just in case you need something warm." Your breath catches. 

The next time you see him, you don’t bring it up. But when you wear the jersey around your dorm, you pretend not to notice the way Yuna raises a knowing brow. Jake keeps showing up. Not in the obvious ways, not in ways that force anything. But in the background. In the small things. A decaf coffee left on your desk when you step out of class. A text asking if you’ve eaten. A moment at the rink where he catches your eyes before disappearing into the locker room. He doesn’t say anything about the pregnancy. Not yet. But he’s there. And that terrifies you just as much as it comforts you. 

Jake isn’t there. Not really. His body is on the ice, his skates cutting across the surface, his hands gripping his stick, but his mind—his mind is still sitting in that sterile doctor’s office, staring at a screen where a tiny, flickering heartbeat had filled the room. "There’s your baby."  He can still hear the doctor’s voice, still feel the way his stomach had plummeted as the reality of it settled in, pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake. "Your baby."  Jake clenches his jaw, gripping his stick tighter. 

“Jake!” The sharp bark of his name barely registers before — CRACK. The puck flies past him, a blur of black and white as it slams into the boards. “Jesus Christ, Sim!” Jake blinks, snapping back into focus just in time to see his coach skating toward him, fuming. His teammates shift uncomfortably, casting wary glances between them as Coach Bennet stops in front of Jake, eyes blazing. 

​​“You wanna tell me where the hell your head is at today?” Coach snaps. “Because it sure as hell isn’t here.” Jake swallows hard. His grip on his stick tightens, knuckles going white. “I—” Coach doesn’t let him finish. 

“You’ve been slow all practice. Missing passes, losing pucks—you’re a vital part of this team, Sim. You don’t get to check out like this.” His voice drops slightly, but it only makes the words hit harder. “Get it together. Now.” Jake nods stiffly.  He doesn’t say anything. Because what the hell is he supposed to say? That he can’t focus because his whole life changed forever? That there’s a baby now—a real, growing baby—and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that? That every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is that ultrasound? 

Coach exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Take five.” Jake doesn’t argue. He skates off the ice, his heart pounding. He needs to get his head straight. Now. Because if he doesn’t — He might just lose everything. 

Jake barely makes it through the rest of practice. He’s off. Way off. His passes are sloppy. His shots lack power. He’s slow to react, too caught up in his head to play the way he’s supposed to. By the time Coach blows the final whistle, Jake is drenched in sweat and running on empty. His entire body feels tense, like his muscles are wound so tight they might snap. He just needs to get out of here. 

He needs to shower, grab his stuff, and go check on you. But before he can make it out of the locker room — “Yo, Sim!” Jake glances up, spotting Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon making their way toward him. Jay slings an arm over his shoulders, still dripping wet from his shower. “We’re heading to a party tonight. You coming?” 

Jake doesn’t even hesitate. “No.” 

Jay pulls back slightly, raising a brow. “No?” 

“Dude,” Sunghoon snorts. “It’s a Friday night, and you’re passing up a party? Who are you?” Jake exhales, shaking his head as he shoves his gear into his bag. “I just—” He hesitates. “I have somewhere to be.” 

Heeseung leans against the lockers, crossing his arms. “You’ve been weird as hell all day, man.” Jay nods. “Yeah, what’s going on with you?” 

Jake grips the strap of his duffel so tight it hurts. He could make something up. Should make something up. But instead — it just spills out, before Jake could stop it. “She’s pregnant.” The words hang heavy in the air. None of them move. None of them speak. Jay blinks. “Wait. What?” and Jake laughs.

Or at least, he tries to. It comes out more like a broken, choked sound. His throat feels tight, his chest squeezed so hard it physically hurts. “She’s pregnant,” he says again, voice cracking. And then, before he can even stop it — He’s crying. Right there, in the middle of the locker room, surrounded by his teammates, Jake fucking breaks. 

His head falls into his hands, his shoulders shaking as he lets it out. Because he’s scared. Because he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. Because this isn’t part of the plan. And for the first time in his entire life, he doesn’t know how to fix it. “Fuck, man,” Heeseung breathes. Jay is the first to move, stepping closer and clamping a firm hand on Jake’s back. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jake shakes his head. “No, it’s not.” His voice is raw, shaky. “I don’t—I don’t know what to do.” 

Sunghoon exhales through his nose. “Okay, first? Breathe.” Jake tries. And fails. He sucks in a breath, but it feels like nothing is getting in. His heart is racing, his mind spinning, and everything is just — “Jake.” Jay squeezes his shoulder. “You’re not alone in this.” Jake lifts his head, eyes red, glassy. 

“We got you, man,” Heeseung says quietly. “No matter what.” Sunghoon nods. “Yeah. And, I mean—” He gestures around. “This isn’t exactly news you should be dealing with alone.” 

Jay nudges him lightly. “Have you told her how you feel?” Jake wipes at his face, sniffing. “I don’t even know how I feel.” His voice wobbles. “I just—I need to see her.” Jay exchanges a glance with Heeseung before looking back at him. “Then go” 

Jake doesn’t wait. He grabs his bag, slings it over his shoulder, and leaves. 

The knock at your door startles you. You freeze mid-reach for your phone, heart suddenly hammering in your chest. You already know who it is. For a second, you consider ignoring it. Pretending you’re asleep. Pretending you’re busy. You’re not sure you want any company. But you can’t do that forever. 

So you force yourself up, smoothing down the front of your sweater as you cross the room. You take a steadying breath, gripping the doorknob with fingers that tremble just slightly, and pull it open. Jake stands there. The first thing you notice is the hoodie—dark gray, pulled up over his head, casting a shadow over his face. His duffel bag is slung over one shoulder, his hockey gear probably stuffed inside. His posture is a little tense, like he had to talk himself into coming here. But the real thing that catches your attention is what he’s holding. 

A takeout bag. Your throat tightens. “I, uh…” Jake shifts on his feet, glancing down at the bag like he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with it. “I remembered you said you were craving this, so I thought—” He hesitates, clears his throat, then lifts the bag slightly. “I figured I’d bring you some.” Something cracks inside you. Because it’s such a small thing—just food, just a meal—but the fact that he remembered that he went out of his way after practice when he was probably exhausted, when he could have avoided all of this — You swallow hard and step aside, voice softer than you mean for it to be. “Come in.” 

Jake hesitates for just a second before stepping inside. The door clicks shut behind him. He doesn’t look around, doesn’t hesitate, just walks straight over to your desk and sets the bag down before collapsing onto your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like this is normal. Like nothing between you has changed. He stretches out slightly, fingers drumming against his thigh before he looks at you. 

“So,” he says, voice easy, like he’s not breaking some invisible barrier by being here. “How was your day?” You blink. It’s such a simple question, but it feels heavier than it should. Because what does he want to hear? That you spent most of it overthinking? That you barely slept last night, kept up by the thought of everything crashing down around you? That every time you close your eyes, you see your own future in a way you never imagined it before? Instead, you inhale deeply and say, “It was fine.” Jake gives you a look. You fidget slightly under his gaze before sighing and elaborating. 

“I had class this morning,” you start, perching on the edge of your chair. “Yuna and I grabbed coffee after, but the barista completely messed up my order, so I ended up drinking the strongest espresso of my life. I swear I could hear colors after that.” Jake snorts, shaking his head. “Then I came back to my room, tried to take a nap, but the guys across the hall decided to have a full-on garage band session at, like, peak volume.” You groan, rubbing your temples. “It sounded like someone was murdering an electric guitar.” 

Jake tilts his head. “Were they at least good?” 

You deadpan. “No.” He chuckles, the sound low and familiar, something that almost makes you feel lighter. So you keep talking. You tell him about your classes, about how Yuna dragged you into watching some new drama that she’s absolutely obsessed with. About how you got sucked into a rabbit hole of cat videos on your phone, and one was so funny that you laughed until you cried. And the whole time, Jake listens. Not just in the polite, half-distracted way people sometimes do. No—he really listens. He nods at the right moments. Asks questions. Throws in sarcastic comments that make you roll your eyes but also bite back a smile. And it’s so… easy. 

For a few minutes, it’s like things are the way they used to be. Like there’s no giant, life-changing revelation hanging over your heads. Like it’s just you and him. Like it’s always been. But that’s the thing about pretending. Eventually, reality always catches up. 

You shouldn’t be staring at Jake. But you are. It’s not your fault, really. He’s sitting on your bed like he belongs there, hoodie still pulled up, fingers absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on your blanket. The room is dim, just your bedside lamp casting a soft glow, making everything feel warmer. Closer. And maybe it’s the lighting, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s here, but — he looks good. Really, good. You could blame it on the hormones but you know that’s not entirely true, you were attracted to Jake enough to fuck him on the regular. 

Which is so not what you should be thinking about right now. Especially when everything between you is so much bigger than it used to be. Still, you can’t help but glance at him as you chew your food, watching the way his jaw tenses like he’s caught up in his own head. So, to fill the silence, you ask, “What about you? What did you do today?” 

Jake blinks, like you’ve just pulled him out of a thought he wasn’t ready to leave. Then he sighs. “Practice.” You raise a brow. “That’s it?” He huffs out a soft laugh. “That’s pretty much all I do.” 

You roll your eyes, leaning back against your pillows. “Yeah, yeah. Hockey is life.” Jake smirks. “Glad you’re finally getting it.” You nudge him lightly with your foot, and for the first time in days, something feels normal. But then you see the way his smirk fades slightly, the way his fingers keep fidgeting. 

“How was practice?” you ask. Jake hesitates. And you can tell — whatever it is, he doesn’t want to say it. But after a moment, he sighs. “It sucked.” That makes you pause. Jake never complains about practice. Even when he’s exhausted, even when he’s been chewed out by his coach, even when he’s sore and bruised—he always shrugs it off. It’s just part of the game. So the fact that he’s saying it now means something. 

“Why?” you ask, setting your food down. Jake drags a hand through his hair, exhaling. “I don’t know. I couldn’t focus. Coach was on my ass all day. Kept telling me to get my head in the game.” He shakes his head, voice quieter now. “I just… couldn’t.” Your chest tightens. Because you know. You know why he couldn’t focus. And it hits you, suddenly — Jake is scared. Maybe not in the same way you are. Maybe not in the overwhelming, spiraling, how-will-I-ever-handle-this way that’s been sitting heavy in your chest since you saw that test. 

But still—Jake is scared. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you realize, You’re not the only one whose world is changing. Jake won’t look at you. His eyes stay fixed on some invisible point in the room, his jaw tense, fingers still picking at the frayed thread on your blanket. He looks like he wants to say something, like there’s too much sitting on his tongue, but he doesn’t know where to start. And for some reason, that makes your chest ache. 

“Jake…” you start carefully. His head tilts slightly, but he still doesn’t meet your gaze. You swallow. “Is it because of—”

“You,” Jake says suddenly. The word is soft. Quiet. But it still punches the air right out of your lungs. Your breath catches. “Me?” Jake finally lifts his eyes to yours, and god, they’re unreadable. Dark, searching—like he’s trying to figure out what the hell to do with everything inside him.

“Yeah,” he mutters. His voice is rough, like he’s only just now admitting it to himself. “It’s you. It’s… this.” He gestures vaguely, and you know he means all of it. The pregnancy. The secret you held onto for weeks. The way everything between you is shifting, unsteady, the ground cracking beneath both of you in real time. And it’s weird. Because part of you has spent so long thinking about how this will change your life—how everything is unraveling for you—that it didn’t even occur to you that Jake is unraveling too.

That he’s scared. Just like you. The thought makes something twist deep in your stomach. You exhale, shifting slightly so you’re facing him completely. “I didn’t mean to mess everything up for you.” Jake’s brows knit together immediately. “What?” You glance down at your hands. “I know hockey is your whole life, Jake. I know you’ve got… plans, and dreams, and this wasn’t supposed to happen. And now it’s just—” You trail off, biting the inside of your cheek before whispering, “I don’t want you to hate me for it.”

Jake stiffens. The room is silent for a long, painful moment. Then, suddenly, he shifts—pushing himself off the bed and moving toward you so fast that your breath stumbles. He doesn’t touch you, but he’s closer now. Close enough that you can see the way his knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping his hoodie sleeves.

“Don’t say that,” he says, voice low. “Don’t ever say that.” You blink up at him, startled by the sudden intensity in his eyes. Jake shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “I could never hate you.” Your throat tightens. “But I—”

“You didn’t do this alone.” His voice is firm, certain. “You didn’t just wake up one day and decide to flip my life upside down. I was there, too.” You let out a weak, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m the one carrying it.” Jake flinches slightly at the word carrying, but he doesn’t look away.

“I know,” he says. His voice is softer now. “And I know it’s different for you. I know I’ll never fully get what that feels like.” He swallows hard. “But this isn’t just on you, okay? I’m scared too.” Your heart stutters. Because this is Jake. The Jake who’s always been so steady. So sure of himself. Who skates like nothing in the world could shake him. And now he’s sitting in front of you, looking like he’s the one who can’t find his footing.

You don’t know what to say. So you just nod. Jake exhales, dragging a hand through his hair before falling back onto your bed. He stares at the ceiling for a long second, letting the silence settle between you again. Then, with a small, almost bitter laugh, he says, “God, no wonder Coach was on my ass all day.”

That startles a laugh out of you. It’s small, barely there, but Jake notices. His lips twitch. “Oh, so now it’s funny?”

You sniffle, shaking your head. “I mean… kinda.” Jake groans, throwing an arm over his face. “Glad you’re enjoying my suffering.” You roll your eyes, nudging his foot lightly with yours. “It’s not suffering, it’s called consequences.” Jake drops his arm, lifting his head to give you a flat look. “I don’t like that word.”

You smirk. “Well, get used to it.” For a moment, you just sit there, looking at each other. And something settles. The air is still heavy, the weight of everything still pressing down on both of you. But… It doesn’t feel so suffocating anymore. 

The rest of the night kept going just like that, sat next together watching reruns, laughing about everything. You’re trying to focus on the show playing in front of you. Really, you are. But it’s hard—and not just because Jake keeps making little comments about the plot, half-serious, half to mess with you. It’s because you can’t stop thinking about it. Something that has been plaguing you these past few weeks. The feeling has been creeping up on you for weeks now, an itch under your skin that only seems to get worse. At first, you thought it was just stress, or maybe a weird symptom of everything your body was going through. But now, sitting here next to Jake, your legs tucked up under you, his thigh warm where it brushes against yours — 

You know exactly what it is. And god, it’s humiliating. Because there’s no good way to say it. Hey, Jake, I know our lives are changing forever, but by the way, I’m really, really horny. You press your lips together, eyes flickering toward him. He looks relaxed, his arm slung lazily over the back of your bed, fingers occasionally tapping against the blanket. His hoodie has shifted slightly, revealing a strip of skin above the waistband of his sweats, and why are you even looking at that? 

You force yourself to look back at the screen, gripping your blanket like it might physically restrain you from saying something stupid. But then Jake shifts, turning toward you slightly. “You good?” You freeze. “What?” 

Jake gives you a look. “You keep making weird faces.” Shit. You clear your throat, shaking your head quickly. “I’m fine.” Jake raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You sure?” 

No. “Yeah.” but he doesn’t look away, god can he just look away. “Because if something’s wrong—” 

“I said I’m fine,” you blurt, a little too quickly, a little too defensive. Jake blinks. You clamp your mouth shut. Then, slowly, his expression shifts. Like he’s figuring something out. Like he’s putting a puzzle together, piece by piece. And suddenly, you regret everything. Because this is Jake.

Jake, who knows your body better than anyone. Jake, who has spent the last year reading your little shifts and signals, knowing exactly when you wanted him—when you needed him—even before you ever said a word. And now he’s looking at you like he knows exactly what’s on your mind. Your stomach flips. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something — But you panic, snatching the remote and turning the volume up way too high.

Jake flinches at the sudden blare of noise. “Jesus—”

“Sorry!” You fumble with the remote, lowering it again. “My hand slipped.” Jake stares at you. Then—slowly—he smirks. Your stomach plummets. “Your hand slipped?” he repeats, amusement dripping from his tone. You nod quickly. “Yep.” Jake tilts his head, still watching you. Your heart is pounding. And you realize, with absolute horror, that there is no way you’re getting out of this.

Jake is still watching you. And you can tell by the glint in his eyes, the way his smirk is growing, that he knows something’s up. So, before he can start teasing you, you blurt out the first thing on your mind. “Are you gonna sleep with other girls?”

Jake stills. His smirk drops instantly. His whole expression shifts from amused to completely caught off guard. “What?” You don’t back down. You cross your arms, looking straight at him. “Now that I’m, you know…” You gesture vaguely toward your stomach. “Are you still gonna sleep with other people?”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “No.” Just that. No. No hesitation, no confusion, just a simple, matter-of-fact no. And that does something to you. Because you weren’t even sure why you asked it. Maybe because you never really talked about exclusivity before. Maybe because things between you have felt so different lately, and you needed to know. Or maybe because part of you was scared that nothing was different for Jake  that he’d still be going out, still be with other girls, while you were here, pregnant with his child.

But now, sitting here, watching the way his brows are still pulled together like he can’t believe you even asked  Something inside you loosens. You exhale. “Good.” Then, before you can overthink it, before Jake can even process what’s happening You lean in and kiss him.

Jake freezes. It’s so different from the way things used to be. Before, your kisses were quick, hungry, never filled with anything but need. But this is slow. This is intentional. And it’s Jake who responds first.

He melts into you, his hand reaching up to cup your jaw, tilting your face just right as he deepens the kiss. His lips are warm, familiar, but there’s something new in the way he kisses you now, something softer, something that lingers. And god, you need him. Every built-up thought, every moment of tension from the last few weeks, crashes into you all at once. You press closer, hands fisting into his hoodie, pulling him in.

Jake makes a low sound in his throat, his grip tightening slightly, his other hand sliding down to your waist. His fingers skim the hem of your shirt, hesitate — Then he pulls away just slightly, forehead resting against yours, breathing hard. “Are you—” His voice is hoarse, strained. “Are you sure?” You nod. Jake studies you for a moment, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. But when he finds none, his lips crash into yours again. And this time  Neither of you stop. Jake kisses you like he’s making up for lost time.

Like he’s been waiting for this, just as much as you have. His hands slide up your sides, slow and careful, like he’s still giving you a chance to change your mind but you don’t. You can’t. You press closer, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his hoodie, and that’s all it takes. A low curse slips from his lips as he pulls the hoodie over his head, tossing it aside. The sight of him, his flushed skin, his rapid breathing sends a shiver through you. He’s so warm, and when his hands find your hips, you let him guide you back against the pillows, your body reacting on instinct.

Everything feels different. Not in a bad way. Not in a way that makes you hesitate. Just in a way that makes you aware of the weight of his body, the way he touches you, the way he looks at you. Because for the first time, it’s not just mindless. For the first time, Jake is looking at you like he actually sees you. And god, you want him.

His lips trail down, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder everywhere. His hands are careful, slower than usual, like he’s savoring the moment instead of rushing through it. And that’s the thing there’s no rush. Because tonight isn’t about just getting lost in each other. Tonight is something else. Something neither of you have had before. And as Jake’s lips find yours again, breathless, desperate, needing you let yourself fall. 

He took his time peeling off every layer of clothing that stood in your way, his sensual kisses leaving butterfly like feelings in his wake as he moved them up and down the expanse of your neck. It was more romantic than you had ever experienced. He was taking his time with you, cherishing your body as he helped you, cradled you. There was beauty in the way the two of you were finally joined, again. 

You are on top of him, your knees on either side of his hips, lifting yourself up than crashing down to the tune of your own heartbeat in your ears. Jake drank in the sight of you, his hands running up and down your body, squeezing at your breasts like a vice. They were noticeably bigger and it was apparent that Jake loved it. 

Your moans and groans grew in tandem as Jake whispered dirty things into your ear. The gasps he let out everytime your hips slapped against yours served as a catalyst to your already awaiting orgasm. It hit you like a tidal wave, washing over your body in its wake. Jake followed not long after. His body is shaking along with yours. And when it was over, you sat atop him with him still nestled deep inside of you and fell asleep. Feeling more peaceful than you have in weeks. 

The next morning, the first thing you register is warmth. It’s different from the usual comfort of your blankets or the lingering haze of sleep. It’s heavier, grounding, and when you blink your eyes open, it takes you a second to realize why. Jake is still next to you. He’s lying on his stomach, face half-buried in the pillow, one arm stretched lazily across your waist. His breathing is slow, deep, even, and in the soft morning light filtering through your curtains, he looks so peaceful. So different.

Jake is always moving, always carrying some kind of restless energy on the ice, at parties, even just sitting next to you. But right now, he’s still. His hair is a mess, sticking up at odd angles, his lips parted slightly as he sleeps. You can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the subtle weight of his arm over you, and for a brief, fragile moment, you let yourself just exist here. In this sliver of morning where nothing has to be said. Where nothing has to change. But eventually, Jake stirs.

He shifts against the pillow, letting out a low hum as his lashes flutter open, still heavy with sleep. His grip on you tightens for a second before he pulls away, rubbing at his face. You watch as he blinks a few times, clearly still waking up, before his gaze finally settles on you. A small, lazy smile.

"Mornin’," he murmurs, his voice low, hoarse. You swallow, forcing yourself to look away from the mess of his hair, the sleep-drunk warmth in his eyes. "Morning." Jake shifts onto his side, his movements slower than usual, more relaxed. His eyes flicker toward the bedside table, where his phone buzzes quietly, before he turns back to you.

"The frat’s having a thing tonight," he says, voice still rough from sleep. "Not a party, just a small get-together. You should come." You hesitate. "A get-together?"

Jake nods, stretching one arm above his head before letting it drop back onto the pillow. "Yeah. Just the guys, Yunjin, Yuna, Heeseung’s girl. No crazy shit." He tilts his head slightly, studying you. “It might be good for you.” There’s something careful in the way he says it. Like he’s watching for your reaction. And the truth is, you don’t know how to feel. You haven’t really been out since everything happened. The idea of being around everyone again of feeling like things are normal when they’re so clearly not makes something twist in your chest.

Jake notices. "You don’t have to," he says, quieter now. “I just thought—" He stops, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I just thought you might wanna get out for a bit. Clear your head.” And the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker to your stomach for the briefest second before meeting yours again.  You know what he means. He’s giving you an out. If you don’t want to go, he won’t push. If you say no, he won’t mention it again. But the idea lingers.

Because part of you does miss it. Misses laughing with Yuna and Yunjin, miss sitting around and watching Heeseung get bullied by the guys, miss feeling like yourself. Even if things aren’t the same anymore. You exhale slowly, biting the inside of your cheek. “…Okay.” Jake blinks, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually agree. Then slowly, a small smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah?” You nod, and something inside you eases. This could be fun and god knows you need that in your life right about now. 

That night, air is crisp as you step outside, carrying the first whispers of winter on its breath. You tug your coat tighter around you, relishing in the warmth as you walk alongside Jake. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, the fabric pulled over his head, but you can still see the easy grin playing at his lips. There’s something light about tonight, something you hadn’t expected. It’s been weeks of suffocating thoughts, of holding your breath, of feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on your chest. But tonight, for the first time, that pressure isn’t there. Maybe it’s because you’re choosing this. Or maybe it’s because Jake's here with you. 

Jake glances at you as you walk. “You good?” 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“You sure?” He nudges your arm lightly with his elbow, playful, teasing. “Because I don’t wanna show up and have you ditch me two minutes in. That’d be kinda embarrassing.” You roll your eyes but can’t fight the small laugh that escapes you. “I’m not gonna ditch you.” Jake hums, side-eyeing you like he doesn’t quite believe you. “I dunno. You’ve been real unpredictable lately.”  You nudge him back, a little harder this time, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

The sidewalk stretches ahead, illuminated by the golden glow of streetlights. It’s late enough that campus is quiet, the usual bustle of students reduced to only the occasional passing group, muffled laughter carrying through the air. The night feels calm. Jake walks beside you in that familiar, effortless way—like being near you is second nature. And maybe it is. Maybe, despite everything, it always has been You glance over at him. “So, what exactly is this get-together?”

Jake shrugs. “Just a small thing. Heeseung and Jay wanted to do something before our next away game. No crazy party, just hanging out.”

“And you’re sure about that?”

“Swear on my life.” He presses a hand over his heart. “No surprise kegs, no random strangers passing out in the hall. Just us.” It sounds… nice. Like the kind of normalcy you hadn’t realized you missed until now. The thought makes you exhale softly, your steps slowing just a fraction. You hadn’t expected to feel good tonight. Hadn’t expected to look forward to anything, let alone this. Jake notices your pause and turns slightly, walking backward now so he can face you. “Hey,” he says, tilting his head, “we can still turn around, you know. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” But you do.

So you shake your head. “I wanna go.” Jake studies you for a second, like he’s searching for any hesitation. But there isn’t any. Not tonight. Eventually, he nods. “Okay,” he says. Then, his lips twitch into something softer. “Good.” And as you near the house, the sound of laughter spilling out onto the porch, the glow of string lights hanging from the windows, You realize you’re glad you came. 

The warmth of the frat house greets you the moment you step inside, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The air is thick with the scent of garlic bread and pasta, something home-cooked and rich, filling the space with a kind of comfort you hadn’t expected. Laughter hums in the background, the low murmur of conversation weaving between the sound of utensils clinking against plates. It’s not the kind of party you’d grown used to at this house. No booming music rattling the walls, no overwhelming crush of bodies moving in tandem, no spilled drinks coating the floor in sticky regret. Instead, it feels warm, familiar. Like a gathering of people who actually care about each other. Jake’s friends greet him instantly, throwing easy nods and teasing jabs his way. Jay claps him on the shoulder, Heeseung tosses some offhand comment about how “Wow, Sim, you actually showed up for once?” but then their attention shifts to you.

“Hey!” Yunjin grins, pulling you into a quick hug. “We were wondering if you’d come.” You smile. “Yeah, Jake convinced me.”

“Good. You needed to get out,” Yuna says, appearing at your side with her usual knowing smirk. “You can’t just sit in the dorm watching Netflix and eating fruit snacks for the next few months.”

You narrow your eyes. “That was one time.”

Yunjin snickers. “Sure, babe.”

There’s no judgment in their words, though, just familiarity. That easy friendship that makes your chest loosen. Everyone settles into a comfortable rhythm as the night unfolds, plates passed around, laughter spilling over casual conversation, Jake leaning back into the couch beside you, his arm draped along the back of it, close but not quite touching. And then, at some point, the conversation shifts.

“So,” Yunjin says, sitting forward, her eyes flickering between you and Jake. “We have to talk about something important.” You blink. “Uh… okay?”

Yuna grins. “A baby shower.” You choke on your drink. “A what?”

“A baby shower!” Heeseung’s girlfriend nods eagerly. “Come on, you have to have one! It’ll be so cute!” You stare at them. “I mean, I—”

“It’s not really up to you,” Yunjin interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ve already decided. We’re throwing one.” Jake huffs a small laugh beside you, shaking his head. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“You’re having a baby, dude. This is happening.” Jay gestures between the two of you. “You might as well have a party for it.” You glance at Jake, unsure what to say. The idea of a baby shower hadn’t even crossed your mind yet. There’s been so much to think about. doctor’s appointments, your classes, the slow, terrifying reality of your life shifting that something as normal as a baby shower hadn’t even made it onto the list. But the way everyone is looking at you excited, hopeful, like they genuinely want to do this for you makes something warm settle in your chest.

Jake’s knee bumps against yours as he shifts beside you. “What do you think?” he asks, voice low enough that it’s meant just for you. You hesitate for only a second before nodding. “I think…” You exhale, looking back at your friends. “I think it sounds exciting.” The girls cheer. Heeseung claps Jake on the back. “Guess you better start making a registry, man.” Jake groans, but there’s something soft in his expression, something light. Something you’d love to see over and over again until you die. 

The conversation drifts naturally, flowing from one topic to the next like the rise and fall of a tide. The laughter still lingers in the air, the warmth of it curling around you like a blanket, but then the topic shifts. Jay leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. “Man, this schedule is gonna kill me.”

Heeseung snorts. “You say that every year.”

“Yeah, and I mean it every year.” Jay groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. “Back-to-back away games? We barely get time to breathe.” Jake lets out a low chuckle beside you. “You’re so dramatic.”

Jay lifts his head just enough to glare at him. “Shut up, Sim. You love this shit.” Jake shrugs, unbothered. “I mean, yeah. It’s hockey. What’s not to love?” And just like that, the floodgates open. The guys dive into a conversation that feels almost foreign to you, play schedules, practice drills, strategies for upcoming games. They speak in a language that’s second nature to them, that thrives in their bones, their voices animated, hands gesturing wildly as they argue over stats and game plans. And at first, it’s nothing. At first, you just sit there, listening. But then — Then it starts to settle.

Jake does love this. It’s not just a hobby, not just a college sport—it’s his life. The hours, the dedication, the grueling schedule—it doesn’t seem to weigh on him the way it does the others. He thrives in it. He needs it. And this is just college. If he’s this busy now…

The thought creeps in, slow but merciless. If this is what his schedule looks like now—morning practices, late-night workouts, weekend-long away games—what the hell is it going to look like when he goes pro? Because he will. You know it as sure as you know the sun will rise in the morning. Jake was built for this. It’s what he’s worked for, what he’s bled for. Hockey isn’t just something he loves. It’s his future. And where the hell do you fit into that?

You blink, barely registering that the conversation is still going, that the guys are still talking and laughing and teasing each other, that the warmth of the room hasn’t faded—but suddenly, it feels distant. A dull, steady ache starts in your chest, creeping up your throat, tightening around your ribs. You stare at the flickering candle on the table, at the way the wax pools and hardens, melting and reforming in an endless cycle. They keep talking. And you go quiet.

You don’t even realize how still you’ve gone until Jake nudges your knee with his own. “Hey.” His voice is softer now, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. You look up, meeting his gaze, and there’s a slight furrow between his brows, that subtle shift that tells you he notices. “You okay?” he murmurs, low enough that the others don’t hear. You should say yes. Should push down the thoughts clawing at your chest, the creeping fear that tells you this is a mistake, that you’re deluding yourself into thinking this can work, that you won’t get left behind in the wake of his future.

But your throat is tight. So you just force a smile, nodding once. Jake doesn’t buy it. His gaze lingers, sharp and searching, like he’s trying to figure you out. But before he can press, someone calls his name, dragging him back into the conversation, and you take the out for what it is. You breathe. And the doubt lingers. The room is still alive with conversation, laughter curling at the edges of words, but your mind is somewhere else. Distant. Tangled.

Jake is talking again something about next week’s game, about how they need to tighten their defense but the words barely reach you. They swirl around the room, carried by voices that belong in this world, that fit. And then there’s you. Sitting here, stomach heavy with something that feels like lead, pressing against your ribs, against your lungs. Because how does this work? How do you fit?

You glance at Jake from the corner of your eye. He’s leaning forward now, elbows resting on his knees, brows furrowed as he listens to Heeseung explain something about their last game. He’s so focused. So in his element, like this is exactly where he’s meant to be. And then there’s the baby. And you. Where do you fit in all of this? It was easy, easier when the thought of being pregnant was still something distant, something you were still getting used to. But now it’s real. You’ve seen the ultrasound. Heard the heartbeat. There’s something inside you, someone that’s growing, changing, becoming more real every single day. And Jake..

Jake is here. He’s showing up. He’s bringing you food and taking you to appointments and rubbing the back of his neck in that nervous way every time he catches himself looking at you for too long. But for how long? Because this is just college. This is before the contracts, before the NHL scouts come knocking, before his entire life shifts into something so much bigger than campus arenas and team dinners. You bite your lip, fingers curling into the fabric of your jeans. Jake loves hockey. It’s the one thing he’s never wavered on, the one thing that’s been steady, unwavering, untouchable.

And you, You’re just a detour. A pause in his story. A moment in time that he never planned for. He’s already stretched so thin. His schedule is already brutal. Morning practices, games, travel, training when would he even have time for you? For a baby? For late-night feedings and diaper changes and God, what were you thinking? This isn’t sustainable. This isn’t something that fits neatly into his world.

The realization crashes into you all at once, so heavy you almost feel sick. You need to talk to him. But then Jake laughs beside you, head thrown back, voice warm and unbothered, and when he looks at you, his smile is easy, soft. And for a second, just a second you wonder if maybe you’re wrong. Maybe he’s trying. Maybe he wants this. Maybe…

“Hey,” he murmurs, voice low, meant only for you. “You’re quiet.” You blink, jolted from your thoughts, your heart hammering against your ribs. You force a small smile. “Just tired.” Jake’s eyes linger for a second longer, like he doesn’t quite believe you. But then Jay nudges him, pulling him back into the conversation, and the moment is gone. And you, You’re still stuck wondering.

The night air is crisp when Jake pulls up in front of your dorm, the distant hum of campus life still lingering in the background, laughter from passing students, the occasional roar of a car engine down the street, the muffled bass of music from a party somewhere nearby. But inside the car, it’s just you and him.

The warmth of the heater hums softly, filling the silence that has stretched between you since you left the frat house. Jake’s hands are still wrapped loosely around the steering wheel, but he’s not in any rush to move. His eyes flick to you as you shift in your seat, your fingers curling and uncurling in your lap. “You want me to come in?” His voice is careful. Not forceful, not overbearing gentle. An offer. A quiet attempt to be there, to be with you.

You shake your head almost immediately. “No, it’s okay. I think I just wanna sleep.” The words leave your lips too quickly, too practiced, and you can tell by the way Jake’s brows furrow slightly that he catches it. That he knows you’re lying. He doesn’t call you out on it. He just exhales slowly, watching you for a long moment before nodding once. “Alright.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel, a restless little rhythm, like he wants to say more but doesn’t know how.

You push the car door open before he can change his mind and insist, before he can see through you too much. The cold air bites at your skin as you step out, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. You feel Jake’s gaze on you as you turn back toward the car, gripping the edge of the door. “Thanks for the ride.” Jake gives a small nod, his lips pressing together. “Yeah. Of course.”

You linger. For some reason, you linger. Your fingers tighten around the door, the weight in your chest heavy and pulling.Like there’s something that wants to slip out, some small confession that’s buried too deep for you to name just yet. But then Jake shifts in his seat, glancing toward the windshield, and the moment shatters. You clear your throat, forcing a small smile. “Night, Jake.”

His lips twitch slightly, but the worry in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Night.” You shut the door and walk away before the doubt in your head can make you turn back.

Inside your dorm, it’s quiet. Too quiet. The air is still, untouched by Yuna’s usual presence—her music, her laughter, her constant, grounding presence that keeps you from feeling like you’re alone with your thoughts. But tonight, you are alone. You toe off your shoes and drop your bag by the door, shrugging off your jacket and letting it slip from your fingers onto the chair nearby. The room feels colder than usual, or maybe that’s just you.

You sit on the edge of your bed, fingers threading through your hair as you stare at the floor. The doubt is back. That creeping, suffocating feeling that has latched onto you ever since the conversation about hockey at dinner. How does this work? You feel like you’re standing at the edge of something. A reality you’re not prepared for, a future that you don’t know how to step into. Jake is here now. But what about when the season gets more intense? What about when the scouts come, when contracts are on the table, when suddenly he’s got offers from teams that are miles and miles away?

What about when the NHL swallows him whole and you and this baby become nothing more than a footnote in his history? Your fingers tremble slightly as you rest them against your stomach. It’s still flat, still unchanged, but you know you know something is growing, shifting, taking root inside you. And yet, you still don’t know where you fit in Jake’s life. Maybe he’s showing up now. Maybe he’s trying. But what if this, this thing between you was never meant to last? You press your lips together, blinking rapidly against the sting behind your eyes. You’re exhausted, your body heavy with the weight of your thoughts, but sleep won’t come easy tonight. 

It’s been a week. Seven days of silence. Seven days of unanswered texts, of ignored calls, of messages left on read. You knew it wouldn’t last forever, that eventually, Jake would force his way in. That he’d demand answers, refuse to let you keep pushing him away. But still, when the knock comes; sharp and insistent against your dorm door and  your stomach drops.

For a second, you think about pretending you’re not home. But then his voice comes through, firm but edged with something else. Something raw. “Open the door, please.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, fingers curling against the fabric of your hoodie. There’s no running from this. No delaying the inevitable. So you inhale, force your hands to stop shaking, and pull the door open. Jake is standing there, still in his practice gear, sweat dampening the strands of hair curling against his forehead, his hockey duffel slung over one shoulder. He must’ve come straight from the rink, must’ve been thinking about this the entire time because his eyes are already burning with frustration. “What the hell is going on?” he demands.

You cross your arms over your chest, stepping back just enough for him to push past you into the dorm. He does, kicking the door shut behind him, and suddenly the room feels too small. Too full of him. He turns to you, brows furrowed, jaw tight. “You’ve been ignoring me.” You scoff, arms tightening around yourself. “Yeah, well. Maybe that’s because I needed some space.”

Jake shakes his head, running a hand down his face. “Space from what? Me? The baby? This whole situation?” He exhales, something heavy behind it. “You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t know when something’s wrong with you?” You look away, fixing your gaze on the floor. “Jake—”

“No.” His voice cuts through the room, not loud, but firm. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.” Your throat tightens. “I’m not shutting you out.”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” he says, stepping closer. “Tell me why you suddenly don’t want me around. Why are you acting like I’m already failing at something I haven’t even gotten the chance to do yet.” The words hit you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You don’t mean to let it slip out, but suddenly, it’s there.The fear that’s been clawing at you, the doubt that’s been growing like a weed. “Because I don’t know if you can do it, Jake.” Silence.

His expression shifts, the frustration flickering into something else—hurt. You swallow hard, blinking against the sting in your eyes. “You might think you can handle it, but… this isn’t just a game, Jake. This isn’t a season, or a practice, or something you can walk away from if it gets too hard.” Your voice shakes, but you push forward. “This is a baby. A whole life. And you’re already stretched so thin. Your schedule is insane, your life is already moving in a direction that—” You shake your head, looking away. “What if I’m just setting myself up for disappointment?”

Jake exhales sharply, stepping closer again, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are stormy, filled with something desperate, something pleading. “I don’t know how to convince you,” he says, voice rough. “I don’t know how to make you believe me when I tell you that I want this. That I want to be here.” Your lip trembles, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “You can’t just say it, Jake. You have to prove it.” Jake flinches like the words sting, like they land somewhere deep inside him. He presses his lips together, dragging a hand through his hair. “And how am I supposed to do that if you won’t even let me try?” The words linger between you, thick and heavy, suffocating the space between breaths. You don’t have an answer.

So you just whisper, “I need space.” Jake’s shoulders rise and fall with a slow, controlled breath, like he’s forcing himself to accept it. He nods once, lips pressing into a thin line. “Fine.” But then his voice softens, just barely. “I have an away game this weekend. I’ll be gone until Monday.” His eyes search yours, like he’s looking for something, anything to tell him you’re not slipping too far away. “But I’ll be back. And when I am, we’re talking about this.”

You nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Okay.” Jake lingers for a moment, like there’s something else he wants to say. But instead, he just exhales, shoulders still tight with tension as he steps back toward the door. And then he’s gone. And the second the door clicks shut behind him, the weight in your chest pulls you under. 

The dorm is cloaked in darkness, save for the faint blue light spilling from the television screen. The glow flickers across the walls, illuminating the mess of blankets you’ve curled yourself into on the couch. The volume isn’t high, but it doesn’t need to be. The sound of the game filters in clearly, the scrape of skates on ice, the sharp whistles, the distant roar of the crowd.

You’d told yourself you wouldn’t watch. That you’d let the game pass without so much as checking the score. But now you’re here, heart hammering against your ribs, watching him. Jake. The camera zooms in as he weaves through the defense, his body moving like something fluid, something effortless. His hair is damp with sweat beneath his helmet, strands sticking to his forehead as he skates into position. He’s good. He’s so good.

You can see it in the way he moves, in the way the opposing team struggles to keep up. They’re aggressive, irritated because they know they can’t outplay him, so they’ll try to beat him down instead. And that’s exactly what they do. The hits tonight have been brutal. More than usual. It’s a grueling, ruthless game, bodies slamming against the boards with resounding cracks. The referees aren’t calling much, letting things slide, letting them play too rough.

And then, Sunghoon goes down. Your breath stutters as you watch him crash against the ice, his body crumpling on impact. He tries to get up, his gloved hands pressing against the rink, but something is wrong. His leg. You can tell immediately. The way he winces, the way his teammates circle him in concern, the way the trainer rushes onto the ice. The cameras cut in close. His face is tight with pain.

It takes two people to help him off the ice. Your stomach is twisted in knots, your hands clenched into fists. You hate this. You hate watching them get hurt like this. And then, Jake. He’s too fast, moving up the rink, his stick handling the puck with precision. The opposing team is trailing behind him, trying to keep up, trying to stop him.

They can’t. So one of them doesn’t even try. The moment it happens, you feel it, the wrongness. The guy comes in too fast. The check is too high, too hard, too reckless. And Jake never sees it coming. Your breath stops. Jake’s body is airborne before he crashes into the boards with a force that shakes the glass. The sound of it is sickening,a violent collision of bone, plexiglass, ice. His head snaps back. His helmet slams against the wall with a brutal crack. And then he slumps. He doesn’t move.

Your vision blurs. The game fades into the background, the commentators talking too calm, too casual as Jake remains still. His limbs are tangled awkwardly beneath him, his hand curled slightly over his side, his helmet tilted askew. He still hasn’t moved. Oh God. Move, Jake. Your stomach is in your throat, a sharp, rising panic clawing up your chest. Your hands are shaking. Your breath is coming too fast, too shallow, and you feel like you might be sick.

Then, slowly, he stirs. Not much, just a twitch of his fingers, a subtle shift in his shoulders. But it’s enough for the trainer to rush onto the ice, teammates circling him as he tries to push himself up. The camera zooms in, his face is twisted, his brows drawn together in pain.

His hand is gripping his ribs. Your throat tightens. You can see it, he’s hurting. Even as he shakes his head at the trainer, even as he tries to play it off. He’s trying to act fine, trying to prove he can keep going, but you know him. You can see through it. Jake’s not okay. Tears burn at your eyes, and you don’t even try to fight them. You don’t care that you’ve spent the last week avoiding him, don’t care that you’ve been drowning in doubts, don’t care that you still don’t have all the answers. Because none of it matters right now. Jake is hurt. You just want to be with him, you need to be with him. You have to get to him, and fast. 

You barely remember how you got there, your feet pounding the pavement in a haze, the world a blur of motion as you rushed toward the hospital. You’re too frantic to think, too scared to process anything more than the fact that Jake was hurt, hurt in a way you couldn’t ignore, couldn’t pretend didn’t matter. The lights from the hospital sign flicker above you as you stumble through the entrance, the sterile scent of antiseptic and disinfectant hitting you like a wall. Your heart is hammering, the fear sitting heavy in your chest as you make your way to the front desk, breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

"I—I’m looking for Jake Sim," you stutter, your voice shaky, too soft as you try to push past the thick knot of panic that clings to your throat. The receptionist eyes you, takes a moment to type something into her computer. “Room 214,” she says flatly, barely glancing up. “He’s being kept for observation.”

Room 214.

The number echoes in your head as you make your way down the hallway, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing faintly. You can hear your pulse pounding in your ears, a steady thrum as you walk faster, too fast, the air around you seeming to constrict with every step. You reach the door. For a moment, you just stand there. Your hand is trembling as you push the door open, the sight of Jake in the bed almost too much to bear. His face is pale, too pale, and his eyes are closed, though he’s awake. He’s hooked up to an IV, his forehead glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

He looks - fragile. Your breath catches in your throat as you step into the room, and it takes everything in you to swallow the rising lump of emotion that threatens to spill out. You’ve seen Jake take hits, seen him get back up from injury after injury. But this feels different. His head turns when he hears the door, his eyes opening slowly, a small smile curling on his lips when he sees you standing there.

“Hey,” he says, his voice rough but warm, like he’s trying to ease the tension in the air. His smile is weak, his usual confidence stripped away by the injury, but it’s still there. It’s still him.

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you whisper, your throat tight. You move to his side, hovering for a second before reaching out to touch his hand, your fingers trembling against his. His skin is warm beneath your fingertips, the solid reassurance you’ve been craving, yet his grip feels fragile in a way you can’t quite shake.

“I didn’t mean to freak out like I did,” you murmur, your voice cracking. “I know you love the baby, and I know you’ll be there for them. I—I know you’ll be a good dad.” He lets out a soft sigh, his eyes softening as he looks at you. There’s a faint wince on his face as he shifts his weight, but the way his lips curl into something resembling a smile makes your heart ache.

“Baby,” he says, his voice low but steady, cutting through the tension that’s been hanging between you for days. “I used to think hockey was the world, that I lived for it, breathed for it. that it was my life. That hockey was the reason I woke up in the morning. I love hockey, hockey will always be my passion and it will always be what I want to do, and who i want to be. But it’s not my life. you are. you two are my life, you and this baby and I wouldn't want it any other way.” 

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, and your breath catches in your throat. You don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath until the air rushes out in one long, shaky exhale. Jake’s hand reaches up, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his touch gentle despite the pain he’s in. “I’ve been an idiot,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been so focused on everything else, and I didn’t stop to think about what you needed. What we needed.”

Tears sting your eyes, a sudden rush of emotion overwhelming you. You hadn’t known how badly you needed to hear those words until they were out in the open. “Jake—” But he’s not letting you finish. He pulls you closer, gently, not forcefully, as though he’s afraid you might break. And when his lips meet yours, it’s soft, soft in a way that makes the world feel like it’s finally falling into place.

You close your eyes, the weight of everything you’ve been carrying melting away in an instant. His kiss is tentative at first, just the brush of his lips against yours, a delicate reassurance that he’s here. That he’s not going anywhere. But then, as if the words he’s spoken have unlocked something inside both of you, the kiss deepens, slow and aching, full of the longing that’s been building between you for weeks. The warmth of his lips against yours is the grounding force you needed to remind yourself that everything was going to be okay. You were going to be okay. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze full of tenderness, full of something real.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” he murmurs. “I’m staying. I’m gonna be here for you, for the baby… for us.” The words resonate deep inside you, a wave of warmth flooding your chest. You don’t know what the future holds, but in this moment, you believe him. You lean your forehead against his, closing your eyes as the world seems to slow down. The hurt, the uncertainty, all of it seems to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your hearts beating in sync.

“I love you,” you whisper. And this time, it’s not a question. It’s not something you’re trying to convince yourself of. It’s just the truth. He smiles, the familiar glint of something unbreakable in his eyes. “I love you, too.” In that moment, you realize that everything’s been leading to this, a moment of vulnerability, of surrender, of knowing that no matter what comes next, you’ve got each other. And maybe that’s all you really need.

AFTER. 

The baby shower is a blur of light and warmth, laughter, and the soft hum of happy conversations filling the air. The room is decorated with soft blues and yellows, little stuffed animals and pastel balloons drifting lazily overhead. It’s a cozy, intimate gathering. more like a family get-together than a grand celebration, and everything feels perfect. The air smells faintly of sweet pastries and flowers, and there’s an undeniable sense of anticipation hanging in the air, as if everyone is waiting for the moment when you and Jake’s little one will finally arrive.

Yuna is by your side, her bright smile radiating as she hands you a piece of cake, teasing you about cravings you’d been indulging in the past few months. You laugh along with her, feeling lighter than you have in ages. There’s a sense of peace in this room — a fleeting, magical calmness that you don’t want to end. Every now and then, your hand drifts to your swollen belly, gently pressing against the soft curve of it, as if the little life inside is dancing along to the rhythm of the moment.

Jake, ever the protective figure, is right by your side, his hand resting on the small of your back, his gaze never straying too far from you. His face, always so expressive, is filled with an emotion you can’t quite name, something soft, something cherishing. It’s hard to imagine a time when things were uncertain, when you wondered if he could be the father you needed, the partner you dreamed of. Because now, standing here with him, you know the truth. He’s already there. Already doing everything he can to show you he’s in this for the long haul.

“Do you need anything?” Jake asks, his voice low, full of the kind of care that only someone who loves you like he does can muster. You shake your head, the warmth from his touch making your heart swell. It’s moments like these, quiet, simple moments that remind you how far you’ve come from the uncertainty you once felt. How far you’ve both come.

“Just you,” you smile up at him, the words coming out without a second thought, and he grins at you like it’s the best compliment he could ever receive.

The guests are all mingling now, with the occasional burst of laughter ringing out as the game ideas you and Yuna came up with take full effect. Everyone is gathered around, exchanging baby gifts, newborn clothes, soft blankets, bottles, stuffed animals. Your friends and family are here, laughing and celebrating this new chapter of your life. The people you love most are sharing this with you. And even though there’s a bittersweet ache in your chest, because Sunghoon is absent, recovering from that god-awful injury, there’s a deep sense of thankfulness that wraps around you like a warm blanket.

“Hey,” Jake says, breaking you from your thoughts. His voice is so gentle, his hand finding yours in the crowd. “I need to step outside for a minute. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod, watching as he slips through the door. You know he’s been feeling the weight of everything lately, the pressure of balancing his career, school, and this new role as a soon-to-be father. You trust him to make it all work, to prove to you that he can handle the responsibilities. But there’s a piece of you, a vulnerable part, that still worries. The doubts always seem to rise like whispers in the back of your mind.

“Win or lose; I want to come home to you,” Jake had said to you not long ago, those words echoing in your memory like a melody. They settle in your heart like a promise, something real, something that matters. The door opens softly, and you look up to see Jake reentering the room, his eyes catching yours immediately. His smile, though small, is genuine, and you feel your breath catch in your chest. The way he looks at you, the way his hand rests against your back once more as he steps closer. it’s as if he’s still trying to wrap his mind around the miracle of everything that’s happening.

“We’re gonna be okay, right?” he asks, his voice full of tenderness, vulnerability slipping in beneath the surface. You nod slowly, your hand resting over your belly as you meet his gaze. “We already are, Jake. I already know we are.” The words settle between you both, and for a brief moment, the noise of the party fades into the background. All that matters is this. this feeling of being connected, being here, in this moment, together. The baby, the future, it’s all a little clearer now.

Jake’s hand slides to your waist, pulling you just a little closer as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The room seems to hum around you, the laughter and chatter distant, but in this small space between the two of you, the world feels as if it’s standing still. Everything has changed. The uncertainty, the doubts, the fear. it’s all been replaced by the certainty of one truth: You’re in this together. And when you see Jake’s face soften with that same familiar warmth, you know it’s true. He’s here. He’s home. “Win or lose,” he whispers, echoing the words he had said to you weeks ago. “I’ll always come home to you.”

Your heart swells in your chest, the weight of his promise settling deep inside you. And in that moment, you know it’s all going to be okay.

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[gospelica]

hi granny!! <3 hope ur doing good <3

just uncle sukuna and you come back from a trip (weekend/spring break) and he's the one who picks you up from the airport, but you don't make it far before he's demanding you let him check. Has to make sure you haven't whored yourself out to anyone, that you're exactly as desperate for him as you were last time. fingers you to check that you haven't been stretched, make sure no stupid boy has been taking what's his, and then fucks you stupid. He doesn't care if you're being honest about 'no one else' as you whine his name, he has territory to claim. And claim it he does, cumming in you twice before pissing in you. He can't have you thinking your cunt is for anything other than taking what he gives you.

Its a good thing you have your luggage, so you have other panties to change into. He tells you to change after the first time, then rips those and fucks you again for thinking you could hide your pussy from him. It's his, and you won't forget it. He drops you off at your house, tells your parents your plane was late. Gives you a teasing head pat and winks at your parents, saying you were gushing about some boy. leaving you to answer their questions about your trip with his cum dripping out of you.

- ✨️

EEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKK nonnie this made me giggle out loud and now my bf is staring at me. he thinks im watching porn.

this is actually my fav thing ever nonnie baby u have no idea... im going feral i love uncle sukuna more than anything and THIS????? pls pls pls never stop having these ideas and never stop sending them to me im in love with you i. cant.

[buckley-diaztruther]

sorry friends it's another long one

ive always been of the opinion that when buck and eddie end up living together it has to be eddie suggestinf/asking. partially bc its obvious gonna be in his house but largely because we need proof that this is a step theyre both wanting, it's buck being asked ti stay, it's very clearly NOT a moment where buck uses big gestures to save a sinking ship

and now the show has so perfectly given is the exact sce priority where this HAS to happen

because when eddie comes back, there's no question of him and chris moving back into the house. the question will be 'does buck stay or go'

and there's a few non-romantic reasons why I don't think Eddie would want/tell buck to go. first reason is financial. buck gave up his loft, fucked his credit even more, and would have a hell of a time trying to find any apartment that he can afford AND that would take him. eddies not going to just kick his best friend out, and at the moment no one else on the team really has a long term place for him. sure, eddies is cramped as well but at least all of bucks stuff is there. this is the practical option that is going to save them both money tbh

second reason is the diaz boys love having Buck around. he cooks, he cleans, he co-parents, and he is literally their favorite person outside of each other. doesn't even have to be romantic, they just love buck. he's family and its really that simple.

and then of course we do look at the romance of it all which. I think a lot of the fandom agrees would the the funniest reason for why buck would feel like he CANT stay. because whether he's accepted his feelings or not at this point, if he and eddie arent together then buck is now going to be hyper aware of anything that could be read as romantic and he's going to try to avoid that once eddie is home. so he's either gonna try to make living with Eddie the most platonic bro thing ever OR he's gonna wanna avoid it all together. meanwhile eddie is just like 'dude. wtf is ur deal just get in bed and stfu ur fine I'm fine and I just wanna go to sleep'

but then eddie is going to have to go to buck, romantically or not, and very directly tell him: "I WANT you to stay. I am asking you to stay here. With us."

bc everyone leaves and sure sometimes they come back but has anyone really ever asked him to stay? has anyone ever actually told buck in clear, explicit words that he is wanted, needed, and that him being the one to leave is not that they want?

because the few times buck has left anywhere (PA, the frat house w Connor, Abbys place, the bouncing between Maddie and chimney before finally landing the loft) it's either been something he's been told to do, or it's something he's felt like he has to do. he's known that he's liked and loved and wanted to a casual degree but no one has ever said that they're sad to watch him leave. no one has asked him to stay. they either let him go or they go first.

(im of the belief that every place buck ever left during his years of traveling was only either because whatever ties he had there dissolved or because he was following someone else, all except for the seals - Bucks first time choosing for himself, by himself, to leave something behind (i don't count Hershey since Maddie was such a big part of him leaving. I don't think he'd have really left if she hadn't told him to go and 'left' him first))

the closest he's gotten to being asked to stay, and i think this moment was huge, was when he brought up leaving the 118 and everyone verbally flicked him in the head for it. and I do think this was so important, but also undercut by chimney and then eddie leaving. it kind of perpetuates this theme for buck of always being the one left behind waiting for someone to come back (happened again end of s7 when Bobby tried to return, and then again where Chris and then Eddie leaving and buck is just there holding the fort to make their leaving either except this time there isn't even the hope of them coming back (he tells eddie 'Don't come back'. not 'don't come back yet' or 'don't come back without chris'. he says 'don't come back' because he doesn't want one without the other and he refuses to hold hope for the potential of them BOTH returning when the entire point of the move was for them to be together in texas)

so yeah. eddie needs to come back with Chris and Eddie needs to be the one to ask buck to stay. because buck needs to be more than a ghost haunting the spaces left behind, more than a spector wandering from home to home with no where that's actually his to keep. eddie needs to choose joy and buck needs to be deliberately chosen rather than just. kind of stumbling into a relationship once more without really knowing how he got there. so ig in a sense it needs to be both of them choosing, but eddie HAS to be the one to choose first because otherwise buck won't believe that he's ever allowed to even want it, let alone ask for it

[nikethestatue]

Gwynriel may not have been the initial plan, but that doesn't mean it can't be endgame. Sarah could have changed her mind in silver flames or the bonus chapter after seeing their chemistry. That's why she showed us how toxic elriel are. How Azriel underestimates her, how overprotective he is, how he's full of self-loathing around her, etc. Sarah writes couples by the seat of her pants. It wouldn't be the first time she changes her mind and switches love interest.

Side note- Azriel's powers reacting to Gwyn's powers, singing and dancing in reaction to her powers only could mean they have a carranam bond. Like Aelin and Rowan.

Listen Anon, I've said this before and I guess I have to say it again.

if you think for one moment that Elain stans or Elriels will be fighting with you over a guys who literally cannot make up his mind about whom he wants to dick down at any given moment, then please HAVE HIM.

We don't want him.

if he is not 1000000000000000000000000% into Elain, body, mind and soul, if she is not his ultimate desire, his prize, his reward, his soul, his heart, his heart mate and if he is tittering on a verge of some ill conceived love triangle, please HAVE HIM.

Take him off our hands. If SJM is going to be writing about a guy who is gagging over Elucien's bond, cant sleep, cant eat for a year, avoiding Elain because of his desire for her, and the moment his High Lord tells him no, he bounces over to his virginal student and starts seducing her--please, enjoy your sloppy thirds.

Elain stans have more self respect than that. We don't want shit like that for ourselves and for the heroines we like.

If this is satisfying to you, if this is what you earnestly desire for Gwyn, hey, you can enjoy your book.

i personally, wouldn't want that to be the arc for my beloved character. I don't want Elain to be rejected by Graysen, then by Azriel, and then settle for Lucien, who may or may not have been sleeping with Vassa all this time.

If you want Gwyn's arc to be with a man who was rejected by Mor, then by Elain, and who having no other option decided on Gwyn, then hey, we are different people. But you enjoy and have fun.

[k-aemi]

Hai I’m not the person that requested it but, can k humbly request more sae and Rin content with their sister :3 💕

itoshi sae & itoshi rin ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ progression.

smut, dub/non, anal, in/stepcest, manipulation, view it however you want.

part 1

ever since your "training" your nii chans have put you through, you just dont see that progression in your football skills. youre starting to think maybe youre just not made for it, but you loved football you dont wanna quit :(

theyve been training your agility, defense and stamina, you think it has maybe gotten a bit better? well thats what your nii chans tell you, they said youve made so much progress from the training and you should be come the best striker in no time.

but applying the training was never helpful. you still cant run for long, you can never aim properly, nor dribble. why cant you just be like sae or rin! theyre so talented and youre here still struggling even when you started the same time as them.

you vent to your nii chans, doubting their ability to train you and maybe it wasnt worth wasting their energy with you. it wasnt them, it was maybe just you. youre incapable to improve and perform moves that would slightly increase your playstyle.

"i dont know sae-nii...its not working! this training sucks! i-i dont see improvement!" you frown, whining to your brothers about the training. honestly theyre the experts, you shouldnt be blaming their training, but if they cant see improvement, why cant they just change their ways of teaching?

sae can only scoff, while looking down at your figure. honestly why cant you see that youre just not made for football? he hated to hear your whining everyday. but if you did, he and rin wouldnt really have any excuse to fuck you silly everyday. they just love their imouto sooo much.

rin comes in from behind, grabbing hold of your hair to lay on your shoulder, exposing your neck. giving it light kisses to it, trailing down to your back. "you just need some time to develop skills." he eases the thin strap of your shirt to your arm, exposing your boobs.

sae closes in the gap between you and him, firmly grasping your sides before sliding down to squeeze your ass while rin grasped your mounds leaving you to inhale a sharp breath.

"then we have to change our ways dont we? dont worry 'mouto. ill make sure you can really put that training to use."

youre met with sae slurping up your wet cunt while rin rubs his cock between your boobs. your nose is met his with balls as he continues to drag his hips, squishing the soft mound to get more friction.

your hands grip on saes hair, tugging on the strands which does make him annoyed. slapping your hand away to leave him to just eat your pussy out. it makes your body twitch. the way rin niis balls lay on your mouth and sae nii sucking on your clit...your nii chans always makes you do these types of training...way different than theirs.

your focus shattered without warning, feeling something prodding at your tight hole. sae latched off your cunt, his thumb circling around the rim of your ass. you want to close your legs, but sae nii always has a tight grip on your thighs which forces you to keep open.

your protests would only become muffled thanks to rin nii. so its basically pointless to speak. but you can feel his thumb slowly entering in and it makes you squirm. your legs kick in the air to push him away. his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before taking hold of your ankles, confining them together with his hand, making you unable to resist his advances now.

he sticks his thumb in and it feels like youre going to explode. its so tight in there, and he knows it. the way your ass blinks and sucks his thumb only makes him intrigued. he wondered how youd react if he pushed further.

you sigh in relief when he takes his thumb out, soon to be met with two fingers entering in, curling up your tight walls. you moan into rin niis balls and he lets out gasps, the vibrations made the pleasure better as he continued his thrusts between your boobs.

sae nii moves his fingers in and out, its difficult to move since your walls clench on him hard, but he needs to prep you for the next level of training. "stop squirming or else you wont be able to take the next training." he spoke with his stern tone. you can only comply, knowing sae nii, hell get annoyed and spank you until your ass becomes red, it always leaves you crying.

"hey, youre gonna put it in there?" rins face looks conflicted, no way in hell he wanted sae to take your first in your tight ass. sae can only scoff, not liking the way rin interrupted him. "shell be fine." dropping a glob of spit on your ass, making you wince from the sudden contact with his wet saliva.

rin sighed in annoyance, knowing he couldnt stop him either way. he latches off your boobs and you feel relieved you can breathe properly again...only for rin to smear his precum on your plump lips. he caresses your cheek, looking down at your already teary eyed face. he had at least some empathy towards you unlike sae nii, but he loved using your body for his and your pleasure of course.

"g'na hurt a bit. just breathe through here okay?" you frown, but you know you have to endure it, sae nii said it will work this time! you have to obliged. meanwhile sae coats himself in your slick, getting every inch of it as a lubricant so it can be a bit easier for him to insert inside your ass.

rin slides his cock in your warm mouth, till his cock shaped your throat<3

he loved how his big cock did that. taking hold of your neck before he starts his ferocious thrusting, making you slobber all over his cock. saes glad rin had already inserted himself in, because he knew youd cry loud when he inserts his cock in.

carefully pushing his tip in at first wasnt so easy. it was painfully tight for both parties. your hands finds itself to rin niis thighs, clawing at it from just the pain of sae niis tip. your body tensed as he tried to force more of himself on you. your legs kick aimlessly and sae can only let out ragged breaths. your ass was so fuckin' tight.

"fuck, its tight." he gasped out, taking hold of your waist, he can hear your pathetic whines and youre probably crying right now. which you are, it hurts so much. hes stretching you out like crazy. sae struggled just entering in, his breathing becomes heavy.

rin soothes your throat with his thumbs, cooing you and telling you its okay. no its not okay! your throat burns and it hurts more than when he inserted it in your pussy!

when sae niis balls would touch your ass, hed pull back and then pushing back in. letting out breaths between every thrusts. god if your ass felt this good he doesnt wanna fuck your pussy anymore, hell just stick to your sweet tight hole<3

the way your gummy walls would clench on him felt sooo good, its like it has a mind of its own, its basically begging him to not pull out, the way it sucks him in was mouthwatering. he cant help but eye the way your hole was gaping because of his big cock. the way it expands has him out of this world, he could look at this forever.

your cries are muffled with rin nii stuffing you full of his cock. its nearly impossible to breathe in this situation youre stuck in. the training always made you sore after every session, they never give you a break. :(

sae does graudally fasten his pace, but not too much, he doesnt want to break you just yet. so its rare for him to go at such a normal pace. hes so close to cumming already, itd be embarrassing to cum right now, but youre so tight it makes it impossible for him not to.

rin niis cock pistoled inside your mouth with such rigger thrusting. his balls slapping your face was so lewd you cant even think straight. everything was a blur as you get fucked dumb by your nii chans cocks. your brain gets mushy and youre not even sure if everything is real right now.

"shit...should be fine if i come inside." he grunts out before fastening his thrusting, your legs kick up from the sudden change of pace and your fat tears fall to the ground. it hurts so much but sae nii is always so harsh on you.

it hurts so much you dont even register rin nii coming inside your mouth, forcing you to swallow him whole. you gag and choke as its forcing its way in. pulling out as he regains his breath. grabbing hold of his cock to smear any cum that leaked from the corner of your mouth back in. you hated the taste...its so bitter and sour!

"s-sae nii...hurts..." your pathetic whines were barely of a whisper, you cant speak properly because of the burn. sae ignores your protests only continuing his rough pace on you, too into the moment.

you sniffle. you need to grab hold of something...anything. "r-rin nii...hold my hand please...sae hurting me.." youd hiccup in between. rin of course would hold your hand, cooing and shushing you to try and distract you from the pain. "s'okay 'mouto. rin nii is here." hed caress your cheek while you tightly squeeze his hand.

"'m gonna cwum...rin nii..." you cried out, saes near his end too, he cant wait to finally feel what its like to cum inside of his baby sister. "k-kiss me nii chan.." youre so cute rin thinks, with a face like yours with those baby doll eyes, how could he refuse? leaning in, he kisses you tenderly, distracting you just a bit from the pain.

"take it all." were saes final words before he thrusts in one last time, releasing his cum inside your walls. and god was the feeling incredible. he grinds on you to ride out his orgasm and its so much better than pulling out, even after using your ass, youre still so tight. he thinks the hole was made just for him.

your finger nails dig deep into rins hand and he hisses, while sae nii helps ride out your orgasm. rin latches off your lips and he admires your fucked out face, your eyes are rolled back and your mouth is slightly left agape. the way your body twitches is so cute too.

sae recovers his breathing, eyeing your overly exhausted figure. flushing his chest on your boobs to whisper to you.

"have you learned anything or do we need to do it again hm?" but thats just an excuse to fuck your ass again.

hihi it took the whole day to finish because i kept getting distracted im so sorry!! i hope it is not too rushed! (╥﹏╥) but hope u guys enjoy this one, last step sib post i swear and i will write a different trope! too many sib requests www, i will tag those who wanted to be tag (≧◡≦) ♡ and for those anons who wanted more here ya go! @rinrinniebaby @riinniies

[amybeerhouse]

Message From Bob

Oct 29, 2008 11:00pm

“hi! its bob

it's been a long time since since we have talked. i just wanted to say hi and fill people in on what has been happening with us. as a whole we are all getting ready to get rolling again. we really needed this break but enough is enough already. i cant wait to see the refreshed and excited MCR again. no more falling asleep at 5pm, no more drinking 20 red bulls, just good times coming up.

i will start with myself. my weird zoro scar on my wrist is going down finally. i have been doing physical therapy every few days now which is helping out a ton. i have to sit and lift tiny weights over and over again until i cant anymore, then i play with putty, then i stack cups, sometimes i squeeze plastic, play with rice, etc. It kinda feels like when i was in kindergarten day care except it hurts. my favorite part is hearing the stories of the other patients. one lady fell down her stairs because she tripped on her cat and broke her shoulder. i try not to laugh but i cant help it. i was actually sitting with a player from the bears last week too. that guy was about 20 feet tall and as big as a house. i didn't look him in the eye. i think i have a couple months before i am back to playing again. i am always going to have pain in my hand so i will be changing my playing a bit. i have to rearrange my drums and i will need to play waaay lighter. dont call me a p@$^y when you see me.

Other then that i am just hanging out. i got another dog! i now have two black german shepherds. they rule. they are my buddies. i am going to bring them everywhere with me. toro got a new puppy too. frank has 19 dogs now. i shot up up my garage with a pistol and the cops came. that was fun..... i also have been playing halo again. halo and legos is actually part of therapy for me. i just hit level 35 which is awesome for me. i would love to challenge anybody to a duel. my xbox name is dixiediarrhea (long story, my dogs name is dixie, she had diarrhea). if anyone knows souljaboy personally please let him know i challenge him. that guy seems like an awesome dude and i want to play against him. he says he can beat anyone. dixiediarrhea says differently. i will bet 2 dollars that i whoop him.

anyway, i see that im rambling. im tired. i was going to fill you in on everyone else but i dont want to anymore. hahaha. which actually brings me to a point. we are soon going to launch a new website. its going to be very simple and to the point. one of the new features will be us typing in on our phones straight to the site so everyone can tell you themselves what they are up to. now that we are coming out of MCR hibernation we want to keep everyone informed and to maybe have some fun. blogathon 5000. i will type in all the juicy details like perez hilton.

ok. im going to bed. me and my friend, the sanch, and dixie are about to drive from chicago to los angeles to hang with gerard and friends. come hang out.

see everyone soon or on halo”

[dragqueenstarscream]

https://www.tumblr.com/dragqueenstarscream/779196499522437121/i-cant-believe-i-didnt-think-of-this-sooner-but

Thinking about preening like this happening during an Orion and Star on the run au where they’re hiding out in the harbinger 👀👀👀

Like can you imagine Starscream cleaning up Orion and in turn teaching Orion (as best he can with Orion’s big ol digits) to help with his own frame? He doesn’t quite tell Orion how intimate this is, but Orion can tell that’s he’s been trusted with something important. Something special. If this is pre-relationship? Hoooo boy. I could definitely seem them end up with their faces close, optics slowly shuttering as they lean in—only for something (like an alert on the Decepticons or Autobots) to go off.

It lingers in Orion’s mind. The intimacy of it all. He longs for them to share that kiss, wishing that they weren’t interrupted.

Starscream berates himself internally, for letting this softness come out with the amnesiac prime. He can’t trust this to last, so he shouldn’t be letting this happen. But thinking about their almost kiss, the feeling of those large, yet steady and light doing their best help him preen makes something warm twist in his tanks. This cannot last forever, but he’s selfish and starved for affection and so even if the prime does turn on him eventually, he’ll savor these moments of affection.

just stab me in the heart, why don't you, damn /lh

i always love a good on the run au with orion and starscream, so this is right up my alley! i love the thought of starscream being so desperate for some sort of affection that he instructs orion into preening him the right way. he tells himself that this is just because he's a sad, lonely wanderer.

it's only partially true.

both of them would be lying if they said that they didn't find each other attractive, and both take a quiet solace in this moment of comfort. orion, ever eager for knowledge, is open to learning about this part of starscream's culture. starscream, taking advantage of this company, lets himself relax for once.

and the almost kiss nearly breaks starscream's spark. selfish, his desires may be, but he wishes that they would've been able to close the gap, if only so he lose himself in someone else, pretend for an hour that he's loved.

he knows that orion will eventually become optimus again. he knows that optimus will be disgusted by his actions and never want to see him again.

but he'll take what he can get.