#honestly i love that they did these SO much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuuuhiii · 2 days

Text

dirty little secret ᡣ𐭩

sum : Satoru has always been popular. With his good-looking face and eccentric personality, it was no wonder. He's every girls dream guy, whether that be for a quick fuck or lover. However, amidst a game of seven minutes in heaven you find out his dirty little secret and use it against him.

includes : 5.8k words, SMUT! (minors go away.) , sub!satoru x dom!reader, reader is kinda mean…, enemies?? to lovers, situationship, loss of virginity, heavy miscommunication, maybe ooc Satoru?, college au, alcohol usage

Satoru was always the talk of your college's campus. They were always about the same thing.

"I heard he has a big dick and knows how to use it."

"I heard he has girls cumming in seconds."

It was honestly tiring to hear every single time you'd sit in your lecture. Did anyone ever have anything else to talk about.

You never liked him.

It's not like he ever did anything to you or said anything. You guys had never interacted actually. You just hated how popular he was and how everyone seemed to be obsessed with him.

Yea he was hot but so was his best friend so what made Satoru so special.

You were never popular, you'd say you were actually pretty irrelevant, but you never minded that. You liked your peaceful and somewhat lonely life.

You were never one for parties but one of your friends. More like your only friend, begged you to come. You had only agreed because when there's a party there's alcohol.

And who didn't love to drink a little and let loose.

The party was honestly less than disappointing. That could just be your opinion though, you loved to judge what could you say.

It was funnier the more you thought of it. Just a bunch of horny college kids in someone's house with wack ass lights and a stupid playlist. You never got the appeal but hey you were here so.

However never in a million years would you think literal adults would be playing seven minutes in heaven. The worst part was you were one of the adults in the circle. You had lost a game with your friend, so this was the outcome.

Now as you sit in the circle with a fat frown on your face, it deepens when you realize Satoru and his best friend are in the circle.

What were the odds you would land seven minutes in a stupid cramped closet with him. You'd say zero but—

shit.

Satoru locks eyes with you and blinks. No cheeky smile that he'd give every other girl, just a blank stare and flushed cheeks which you assumed was from the alcohol. The other girls in the circle whine and you roll your eyes, standing up and grabbing his wrist, dragging him in the closet.

"Don't have to much fun!" Suguru says as he locks the door.

It's quiet. Very quiet.

And dark.

You can barely see your clothes and even your hands. Ironically you can feel Satoru burning holes into your face.

"Stop staring." You grumble. He jumps and looks at his hands.

"Sorry." He mumbles.

Ok...weird? Why wasn't he making advances on you? Did he not find you attractive?

The thought of that has you rolling your eyes. It's not like you cared about what he thought but he surely wasn't living up to ‘his name’.

"You're not gonna do anything?" You break the silence, and he perks up.

"Hm?" He blinks and you shift on your feet.

"Nothing, it's just a little shocking. Thought you'd be trying to get in my pants by now." You laugh and he purses his lips.

"What do you mean?"

This guy.

"Oh, come on don't play stupid. You know what I mean." You cross your arms.

He blinks.

“You sleep with like every girl on campus!” You swing your hands and he messes with his hands. He awkwardly laughs and you are beyond confused right now.

“I-I’m a virgin.” He mumbles.

No.

Fucking.

Way.

You burst out laughing but quiet down as he just stands there.

“Wait. You’re serious?”

His silence has your jaw almost on the floor.

“Oh my god!” You laugh in amusement.

“It’s all a lie.” You laugh again and his brows pull together.

“N-No. I mean I make out with girls but I just don’t sleep with them.” He crosses his arms, tired of your humiliation.

“Yea but these girls think you’re like some sex god.” You smirk and he huffs.

“I wonder what everyone would say when they find out you’re a virgin.” You tap on your lips and he gasps.

“You wouldn’t.” He straightens up.

“Oh but I would.” You grin and he’s sweating bullets.

“I-I’ll do anything!” He pleads and your eyes widen in surprise.

You would be lying if you said having the most popular guy on campus like this wasn’t exciting for you.

“Anything?” You say slyly and he nods immediately.

Your mind is filled with lewd thoughts of him. Having this obnoxious confident boy begging at your feet had you riled up.

“So all of it’s an act huh?” You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile.

“This is gonna be fun.” You look at him and his heart skips a beat.

“Alright! Times up losers!” Suguru says as he opens the door.

He’s confused to see you both looking the same as when you entered. You push off the wall with a smirk but Satoru grabs your wrist.

“A-Are you gonna text me?” He looks so pathetic.

You look him up and down.

“I’ll see you soon.” You feign innocence and push past Suguru.

“Dude, what happened?” Suguru blinks between your retreating figure and Satoru.

“I think I missed up.” He runs a hand through his hair.

Satoru has been on edge this whole week. He’s so paranoid, you haven’t even texted him or anything.

Would you go back on your word?

You wouldn’t right?

Did you not wanna see him anymore?

He jumps when a buzz from his phone goes off. It’s a text from you saying to open the door and his eyes widen.

He flys out of his room and goes to open his door. It’s dead in the night and you’re standing there with a monotone look on your face.

“Uh, hi.” He mumbles and you look up at him, a smile rising to your face.

“Can I come in?” You blink and he opens the door, shuffling to the side.

He’s in grey sweatpants and a loose black shirt, his pale hair shooting everywhere.

“So, uh, why’re you here.” He’s messing with his hands, something you noticed he does when he’s nervous.

“I just finished studying and I couldn’t sleep so.” You drift off, looking around.

“Wanna have some fun?” You say with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Fun..?” He gulps and you step closer to him.

“Mhm.” You hum, gliding your finger up his arm. His breathing is uneven, you catch on and you bite your lip.

“Only if you wanna of course.” You look around and he nods.

“Words.” You snap your eyes back to him.

“Yea, that’s fine.” He nods, a blush forming on his face.

Your arms fly to wrap his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He freezes for a second but then he’s kissing you back. His hands joining at your waist.

He was a good kisser at least but this only made you more curious to know just how far he’s gone.

You swipe your tongue over his mouth and he gives you entry. Your tongue wastes no time in meddling with his. He groans when your tongue flattens against his, his hands tightening on your waist. You pull away with a smile and his eyes are cloudy.

“Wanna go to your room?” He nods dumbly, leading you to his room.

It’s a little messy but pretty minimalistic at that.

“Are you always this nervous?” You blink up at him and he shuffles.

“No? I’m usually drunk when I’m making out with girls so.” He nods and you hum.

He looks small as he sits on his bed, fidgeting with his hands again. You feel a little bad.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You say and his eyes snaps towards you.

“No! I-I want to.” He licks his lips and you grin.

“Ok!” You hum, standing up and sitting yourself on his lap.

His breath hitches but before he can collect himself your lips are on his. His eyes flutter closed as your tongue dominates his, his hands rub along the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

One of your hands drag down his chest, resting on his stomach. He stutters and you bite his lip making him moan. You pull away grinning at his now red puffy bottom lip.

“Wanna take these off?” You pull at his sweats and he gives you a meek nod. He wiggles them off and you palm him through his boxers. He hisses, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Have you ever been touched like this? Hm?” He shakes his head no and mindlessly squeeze your thighs together.

“How come?” You squeeze him and he lets out a whine, pre cum staining his boxers.

“I-I don’t know.” He breathes out and you kiss his tip through his underwear, his pupils are blown as he stares at you.

“That’s it? You don’t know?” You mumble as you pull down his boxers, his cock slapping against his stomach.

“How come someone knows your dick is big then.” You cock your head to the side, pumping him. He whimpers with his lip tugged between his teeth.

“Y—You—fuck—think I’m big?” His doe eyes boring into yours. You let him go and he whines.

“Answer my question.”

“S-Some girl groped me, I think.”

Your eyes darken.

“So you lied?” Your hand stops.

“N-No! I’m sorry don’t stop.” He moans, grabbing your hand and placing it on his cock.

“I told you I get drunk so I…don’t remember.” He sighs when your thumb glides along his slit.

“Hm.” You seem displeased and he gulps.

“Are you mad?” He breathes heavily and you shake your head. Your tongue gliding along the base of his cock.

“Oh fuck.” He moans. You finally take him in your mouth and he’s whining.

“So warm.” He rests on his elbows, not wanting to miss even a second of this.

You stare up at him and you feel his cock twitch, making your lips twitch upwards. You set a steady pace and jerk whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Yes—yes.” He chants, shaking as he lifts a hand to move hair out of your face. You remove your hand and take the rest of him, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

“I’m cumming!” He yells, his legs shaking as his load shoots down your throat.

He’s moaning and panting as his high rushes over. You pull off with a pop but your hand keeps jerking him.

“N-No, s’to much.” He whimpers, too weak to stop you.

“You don’t want anyone to know right?” He shakes his head, not fully understanding what you said.

“Then take it and shut up.” You say and he whines.

You’re sucking his tip and he’s only letting out whimpers at this point. His eyes water, his balls tightening again.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He sobs, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Your hand squeeze his balls and his mouth falls open but no noise comes out. You swallow all he gives you, even though it’s less this time. His white hair sticks to his forehead as he takes big gulps of air.

You pepper kisses on his thighs, making him jump when you suck a mark. You pull his boxers back up and he’s still in the same position. His mind fucked because of the mind blowing orgasm you just gave him. You wipe his lash line for any stray tears and he stares at you fondly.

“That was, amazing.” He huffs out and you laugh.

“Whatever I’ll see you later.” You peck his cheek and he flys up.

“You’re leaving?” He stares at you, you hate how he looks at you with doe eyes. Your stomach fluttering at the sight. He’s like a puppy.

“Um yea? It’s late.”

He looks down.

“Right. Will I see you again?” He peers up at you with hope pooling in his eyes. You narrow your eyes but smile.

“Maybe.” You say leaving his room, leaving him to dwell on what just happened.

For the rest of the week you don’t stop by but Satoru can’t keep you off his mind. He sees you around campus but all you do is send him a flirty look and smile as you walk away with your friends. He wants to talk to you but he’s not sure if you’d like that.

Would you be mad if he tried to go up and talk to you?

Did you only want things to be a secret?

What if you stopped seeing him?

Wait.

He was only doing this so you wouldn’t tell anyone his secret. At least that’s what he’d tell himself.

The next time you come over is a night when there’s supposed to be a party. He’s getting ready to leave but when he opens the door you’re there, Satoru and Suguru’s eyes widening.

“Y/n? What’re you doing here?” He blinks, his cheeks growing red.

Suguru looks amused and with a laugh he’s out the door.

“Hey, wait!” He goes to follow him but you catch his arm.

“You’re not going.” You say calmly and he’s confused.

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to?” You say and you pull him into his apartment.

“Why do you wanna go? So you can make out with some random bitch? Or what, get your dick sucked?” You raise a brow and he pouts.

“Well, I didn’t know you were coming…I thought you ghosted me!” He points a finger at you and you laugh.

“Ghost you?” You look amused.

“Well, yes. You don’t talk to me or anything so.” You tilt your head.

“I won’t taint your reputation? It won’t be weird if you’re seen talking to me?” You grin and he’s puzzled.

“No…? Why does that matter?” His words make you freeze but you don’t let them affect you that much.

Hopefully he didn’t catch what he said because that basically contradicts this whole situation.

“Whatever, come on.” You drag him to his room but he stops you.

“Wait!” You face him and he glances away shyly.

“What?” You look at him skeptically.

“I…wanna make you feel good.” He says.

“I obviously don’t know how but I wanna try.” He looks at you and you bite your lip.

“Yea? You wanna make me feel good?” You smirk, stepping closer to him. You grab his hand.

“Where? Here?” You place his hand on your clothed cunt and he gulps. His adams apple bobbing.

“Y-Yea, there.”

“Mk, show me what you got.” You smile and he does too, eager to please you. He’s a little to happy when you lay down on his bed.

“Someone’s excited.” He pauses, blinking.

You roll your eyes.

“It’s cute.” He blushes and doesn’t say anything letting his lips connect with yours.

He doesn’t spend much time on your lips and leads kisses down your neck, making your breath hitch. He’s giddy, wanting to pull more noises out of you. His hands slip under your shirt, slowly sliding them up and grabbing your breasts.

“Pervert.” You gasp and he smiles.

“Can I take it off?” You nod and he helps you, throwing it behind him.

He scatters pecks all over your breasts, pushing your bra down and you unclasp it. He licks his lips before he takes your nipple in his mouth sucking and licking at it aggressively. Your hands tangle in his hair and he groans against your nipple, moving to your other one.

After teasing them he’s moving down until he reaches your pants. He looks up waiting for your approval and you nod. He unbuttons them and lets you slide them off. He’s met with your white panties, a bow right in the middle. But he stops and looks at you again.

“What’s wrong?” You ask and he gulps.

“C-Can you sit on my face.” He bites his lip. You blush to but try to hide it with your smile.

“You’re a freak you know that?” But you tug him up on his bed. He stares up at you as you remove your panties. His arms wrap around your thighs and he kisses your them, placing a kiss right on your slit.

Only then do you realize he’s mirroring your actions from when you gave him head and you smile. His eyes lock on to your pussy and you’re glistening and fuck he’s so hard. He lays his tongue flat against your cunt and you whine.

Then hell breaks loose.

He pulls you down and slurps you up like a mad man. His head moving side to side for more friction.

“Fuck, just like that ‘Toru.” You moan and he groans at the nickname.

He sucks on your clit and you tug at his hair, making him eat you faster. He inserts his tongue finger inside your gaping hole, loving the way it sucks him in. You gasp and he’s fucking you with his tongue.

“Oh my god.” You whine, pulling at his hair and grinding down on his face. He groans and the vibrations only stimulate you more.

“Gonna cum, keep going.” You pant, riding his face faster as he smothers his mouth with your pussy.

He pulls out his tongue and sucks your clit sending you off the edge. You whine loudly as you ride his face, holding his headboard for stability. Satoru slurps up everything you give him, kissing your thighs when you come down from your high.

You slide off of him, right on to his hard cock. He sits up, wiping his mouth.

“Did I do good?” He asks, massaging your thighs.

You hum, your head a little clouded as you rest your face on his shoulder. His stomach is doing back flips at your acknowledgment.

“You can sleep here if you want. You look tired.” He mumbles in your ear and you agree.

He places you on his bed gently as he gets up to find your panties. Once he gets them he stares at them.

“Uh, do you want boxers, they’re soaked.” You pout, as a blush rises to your cheeks.

“Depends, do they have skid marks.” His mouth drops in disgust.

“Ew!” He looks mortified and you laugh.

“I’ll take some you idiot.”

He grumbles as he goes and fetches some from his drawer. He slides them on you and plops down next to you. You both are laid on your back and he’s nervous. Tapping his fingers against his chest.

“Stop fidgeting.” You turn towards him and he stops.

He steals a glance at you but your eyes are closed, soft snores leaving you. He smiles softly, lights pushing hair behind your ear. He’s turns to you now, placing his chin on top of your head.

Your eyes blink open to a white fluff of hair, making you groan. You swipe it out of your face and look around you. Satoru’s arms are wrapped around you, hugging you close to him.

He’s sound asleep, his long white lashes resting on the apple of his cheeks. He really was handsome, ethereal even and that has you wondering on what the fuck you were doing.

You claimed to hate this man, but here you are in his arms and in his bed.

You never thought of yourself as a good person but not a bad one either, just mediocre. It didn’t really matter though, why should you care about his feelings. He only cares about his reputation plus he’s probably over the moon to have a girl he can fuck around with.

You’re using him and he’s using you too. You know after all this he’ll just show what he learned to whatever girl that falls at his feet. And actually, finally, live up to his stupid reputation.

You sigh and detach yourself from him. You slip out of his boxers and put your panties on along with your pants. You slip on your shoes and give him one last look before you’re tiptoeing to the front door.

“Had fun?” You freeze, you didn’t notice Suguru standing against the kitchen counter with a mug in his hands.

“There’s coffee if you want some.” He nods his head and you eye him, looking at the door again.

“I’m good.” You say reaching for the door knob.

“He likes you y’know, has for a while now.”

Your stomach churns.

What?

You turn to him but he’s already looking at you. He laughs at your face, shaking his head.

“That’s the only reason why he’s nervous, letting you do things with him, he doesn’t care for the reputation, he’s using it as an excuse to be with you.” Suguru looks you dead in the eye.

Well, that kinda makes sense for how he acted.

“So if you don’t like him let him down easy yea?” Suguru smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You nod and finally open the door and leave.

What the fuck were you gonna do now.

You avoided Satoru like a plague, you didn’t look at him like you used to and you didn’t show up anymore.

Did he do something wrong?

Was it too far to have you sleepover?

Were you finally tired of him?

Satoru was sad and it hurt Suguru to see him like this. He didn’t even wanna go to parties anymore so Suguru takes it in his own hands talk to you. So when you’re walking with your friend, he appears in front of you.

“We gotta talk.” He doesn’t even let you say no because he’s pulling you away.

“Let go!” You rip your hand away from him and he stares at you angrily.

“What the fuck are you doing avoiding Satoru.”

Shit.

“I told you how he felt so you wouldn’t hurt him and you’re hurting him.”

You scoff.

“Oh please. He’ll find someone else soon enough.”

“Fuck off, that’s a lie and you know that.” He spits back.

You are.

You were too guilty to face Satoru. What were you gonna say.

‘Hey I know you like me but I was just using you for my selfish desires!’

That was only partly true. Because despite the ‘sex’ you’d catch yourself staring longer than you should’ve been, admiring his stupid face and loving his flushed cheeks.

“How does he even like me! We never talked once!” You throw your hands up.

“How should I know? He just came back to the apartment one day and wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

Your brows furrow as you glance at the ground.

“I don’t think I’m good for him, my intentions weren’t good. So how do you expect me to face him.” You mumble.

“Then tell him that. Stop being a bitch and avoiding him, we’re not kids. You’re a fucking adult so communicate your feelings.” Your eyes snap up to him.

“That’s rich coming from you. He hasn’t even told me how he felt!”

Suguru sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

“Gosh you women are so fucking complicated. Just talk to him.”

Is the last thing he says before he leaves. You chew at your lip and sigh. He was right, you did need to talk to him.

The next day, you knock on his door. When he opens it his eyes widen.

“Y/n?” His eyes are full again, bright and shining.

“Can we talk.” You mutter and he nods, letting you in.

“Look I’m sorry if last time was to far, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He rambles and you sigh.

“Satoru, you didn’t do anything.” You say but he cuts you off.

“Toru.” He says.

“What?”

“You called me Toru last time. So it’s Toru.”

You sigh.

“Satoru—”

His eyes are pleading.

“Toru… I know you like me. And I feel like shit because, well I didn’t know and I was just doing stuff with you because it got me riled up. I guess. So I avoided you.” You glance at the floor and he’s quiet. You look up at him and he has a small smile.

“I got you riled up?”

Your dumbfounded.

“This is serious. I was just using you. I-I’m sorry.”

He takes a step closer to you.

“You don’t…feel anything for me? Like besides the sex? Or whatever we were doing.” He gazes down at you.

“I’m gonna be honest. I used to not like you. I thought you were just some selfish popular prick but turns out I was just the selfish prick.” You grumble.

“But what about now. What do you think of me now.” He pushes and you flush up.

“Well you’re stupidly pretty. And funny. I like how timid you are around me, it makes me feel good. But that’s just me being a selfish. You’re kind though. Despite me treating you like shit. You’re still patient.”

He smiles.

“I forgive you.” He says and you look up at him.

“W-What? No. You should hate me.” You shake your head and he pouts.

“Why?”

“Because I treated you bad Toru.”

“Well, I lied to you. I said I cared about my reputation but that wasn’t true.”

“That isn’t merely as bad as what I did.” You deadpan.

“But I still like you.”

“Why?” You couldn’t understand.

“Because you’re stupidly pretty. You’re funny to and I love your smile and laugh. I like when you praise me but that might just be because I have a big fat crush on you.” He laughs and you smile at him copying you.

“I-I like you a lot and as bad as it is. I was too much of a pussy to tell you how I felt so I let you use me.”

You pout.

“We’re stupid.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Yea. We are.”

It’s silent but in no way awkward.

“Y/n?”

You glance up at him.

“Yea?”

“Can you take my virginity.” His eyes are lidded and your jaw drops.

“W-What? Toru no. I don’t know if—”

He stops you with his hands resting on your waist.

“Please. I wanna lose it to you.” He pleads, moving some hair behind your ear.

You chew at your lip, glancing around his apartment.

“Are—you sure.” You gaze up at him and he rests his forehead on yours.

“I’m reallyyy sure.” He smiles and you smile too. He peck your lips and leads you to his room.

He doesn’t seem nervous like all the other times but happy. He’s smiley when he kisses you and playful with his hands.

It doesn’t take long for you both to be bare and he’s showering you with kisses. You’re on top of him at the moment but he flips you over, his arms resting beside your head.

“You’re gonna have to coach me through this.” He laughs and you smile.

“Well I thought I was gonna do the work.” You snort and he shakes his head.

“I wanna make you feel good. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” He smiles and you peck his cheek.

“Well I mean there’s not much to it. You just put it in and fuck me.” You shrug and he narrows his eyes.

“Hm. Okay then. There’s no tips and tricks?” He purses his lips and you grin.

“That’s for you to find out.” He laughs, pumping himself, his smile fades and his face morphs into worry.

“Do you have a condom?” You blink.

“Uh, no? I didn’t really think this was how my night was gonna go.” He bites his lip, rubbing your hips.

“Maybe Suguru has some.” He ponders.

“I’m on the pill.” You mutter and he gazes at you.

“So I can like, cum inside you?”

“Well I mean it’s safer if you don’t but considering you’re a virgin I don’t think your pull out game will be strong.”

“Is that a challenge?” He grins and you laugh at his stupidity.

“No, Toru it’s a fact.” He still takes it as a challenge though. So when he goes back to jerking himself a bit, he rubs his member along your slick. He’s already moaning.

“Feels good.” He stutters, his tip teasing your hole.

“Put it in Toru.” You whine and he licks his lips, pushing his length inside you.

“So impatient—Oh fuck.” He groans, his hands gripping your thighs harshly. You moan at his size and he’s breathless.

“So warm—ngh—and tight.” He whimpers. He was gonna blow his fucking load if he didn’t calm himself down. He pulls back and gives an experimental thrust.

The both of you moaning.

“Shit, pussy so good.” He whispers. You wrap your legs around his waist.

“Move, Toru.”

So he does. With his hands moving to your hips he gives you no time as he’s fucking into you hard and fast.

“Mm, you feel so fucking good.” He’s biting his lip so hard, it’s a wonder how it’s not bleeding.

He’s so long and veiny you feel him so deep with every thrust. His tip continuously kissing your cervix.

“Fuck! Slow down!” You yelp, his hips snapping against yours.

“Can’t! It’s to good, to good.” He moans so prettily.

He’s getting desperate and pussy drunk. Without missing a beat he leans down to press messy kisses on your neck. He sucks bruises on them and some on your breasts.

“Toru.” You whine and he’s man handling you at this point.

Using the mattress as leverage to fuck you faster. You don’t know how he’s moving so fast and rolling his hips so good but you’re gripping his sheets, dragging your nails on his back. He groans at this, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna cum.” He repeats. His mind is already lost, the only thing he can think of is how fucking tight and warm you are.

“Cum with me baby please.” He whines in your ear, moving a hand down to flick your clit at a rapid speed. Your moans ring out through his ears, the way you writhe under him drives him fucking crazy.

“Fuck, you’re getting tighter.” He gasps, his legs shaking. He feels your walls flutter around him, your guys orgasm crashing down on the both of you.

“Cumming!” He throws his head back, his eyes rolling as he fucks his seed deep in you. You’re both gasping as you try to calm down. But with a squeeze of your cunt, he’s rutting into you again.

“Fuck! S-Satoru wait!” You moan, trying to get his hips from abusing your poor cunny.

“M’sorry, s’good.” He’s slurring, he’s fucked out and addicted. Nothing but guttural moans leave his mouth. Breathless whines of your name as tears well up in his eyes.

“S’tight.” He babbles, his tears falling onto your cheeks.

You’re both moaning so loud as he pushes your knees to your chest. The new position has you screaming as the coil in your belly snaps again. Satoru lets out a sob, his cock reaching deeper inside you with this new angle.

He doesn’t say anything when he finishes inside you again. His orgasm rakes through his whole body as he hunches over you. Pathetic moans leave his mouth as he holds you close to him, emptying all of him inside you.

He hiccups as he falls on top of you. His forehead resting on your shoulder as you both catch your breath.

He leans up and kisses you. His tongue connecting with yours. He moans in your mouth, pulling out of you and letting both of your juices spill out of you.

A string of saliva connects both your mouths when he pulls away. He rolls off of you, the both of your guys minds still fuzzy.

“I’m gonna use the restroom.” You mumble, your mind not quite all there. He looks at you in a daze.

“Let me help you. I have to clean you don’t I?” He holds your hand and you smile.

“Yea, that would feel better.” You huff out a laugh and he slides off the bed. His legs a little shaky. He grabs a random shirt, cautiously wiping you down.

“Here.” He places a shirt on you, his scent engulfing you. He throws on his boxers and picks you up.

“H-Hey!” You yelp your arms shooting around his neck. He smiles down at you, opening his door.

When he’s on his way to the bathroom, Suguru walks in the through the front door. All of you freezing, caught like a deer in headlights. Suguru blinks and you shove your face in Satrou’s chest.

“I’m guessing you guys did more than talk?” Suguru laughs.

“Mhm!” Satoru nods his head and your cheeks warm.

“Toru.” You whisper and he perks up.

“Shit. Sorry.” He waddles to the bathroom. He places you down and quickly leaves to let you do your thing.

“Let me know if you need help.” He says and you shake your head with a laugh. Satoru turns around and narrows his eyes.

“You! Go in your room or something.” He shoos at Suguru and they both glare at each other.

“This is my apartment too!” He whisper yells back.

“I can hear you guys.” You say from behind the door and they both straighten up.

Suguru glares at Satoru again before he goes in his room. You open the door and Satoru smiles. He grabs your hand and walks you back into his room.

“I’d offer to shower with you but I think I’d probably fuck you again.” He laughs and you playfully roll your eyes.

He pulls back his sheets and opens his arms for you to join him. You slide under with him and he’s pulling you flush against him. Your hands tangle in his hair as he shoves his face in the crook of your neck.

“How’s it feel to not be a virgin anymore.” You grin and he bites your neck.

“Ow!” You pout and he smiles against your skin.

“Amazing. I’d say let’s go for another round.” You whine at his words.

“I think I’d pass out.” You both laugh.

“We did this completely backwards.” He mumbles against your skin.

“I wanted to take you out on a nice cute date and see you dressed up all pretty as we shared our first kiss.” You laugh at his words.

“You had it all planned out hm?” He smiles, nodding.

“Of course. But I’ll take you out tomorrow and still kiss you and then ask you to be mine.” He sighs.

“You’re cute.” You smile, pecking his head.

“Would you say yes?”

He asks and you let out a long hum. He pinches your waist and you laugh. His smile growing wider at the sound.

“Of course I would you dummy.” Your hand glides along his soft hair.

“Good because I’d probably get on my knees and beg.”

“Oh?” You say seductively and he laughs.

“And you say I’m the pervert.”

You guys talk for hours in each other’s arms. Turns out Satoru had two secrets. But none of it mattered now.

He wasn’t a virgin anymore. And he was finally dating the girl he had a big fat crush on.

411 notes · View notes

jakesimfromstatefarm · 1 day

Text

the matchmatic 3000 | jake sim

✰ summary: simp, i mean, sim jaeyun is a hopeless romantic. a cursed hopeless romantic, he would say, doomed to exist as just your friend, nothing more. but when his genius (read: nerdy) best friend creates a highly accurate matchmaking app for the university, jake is ready to bribe, beg, and possibly sell his soul to make sure he gets paired with you. plan a? hack the system. plan b? there is no plan b. to jake, being delulu is the solulu, and he's all in.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. bestfriends!jay & heeseung]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | college!au, matchmaking!au, friendstolovers!au, pining, pining, pining heh

✰ contains: honestly, just crack. i had too much fun with the humor in this one i think, whoops! lots of awkward tension, slow burn, pining, more pining, cute kithes (~￣³￣)~, reader is oblivious beyond saving, but no actual warnings other than maybe one or two cuss words i think!

✰ wc: ...19k (i swear this wasn't intentional...once again, i had too much fun)

✰ a/n: it's finally done! i'm nervvy because i haven't posted a fic in almost three years now,,,but i randomly got inspo one day after seeing a tiktok about a matchmaking questionnare and now here we are! i loved writing these characters, it was so much fun,,,but i also don't know how to feel abt the whole thing so i hope people enjoy this !! :’)) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Simply put, Jake Sim is a simp. His name should honestly be legally changed from Sim Jae-yun to Simp Jae-yun at this point.

Jake doesn’t fall often, but when he does, he hits the ground with the force of a malfunctioning rocket ship. Once in the third grade, a girl gave him a Hello Kitty bandage after he face-planted off the playground swings. Cute, right? Well, Jake was so smitten, he spent the next week sliding his prized dino chicken nuggets across the lunch table like they were some ancient currency to win her over.

Did it work? Sort of. Did she eat all his nuggets without ever looking back? Absolutely.

But this? With you? This is different.

Jake would give up more than just his room-temp mystery-meat pterodactyls for you. He thinks he’d willingly cat-sit twelve cats—despite his strong dislike for cats. He thinks he’d voluntarily train for the national triathlon—despite always getting winded walking up the two flights of stairs to get to his apartment. He’d probably let you have the last Supreme pizza slice, which for Jake, is basically like offering you his soul on a silver platter.

Forget falling—Jake didn’t just trip, no. He plummeted into a cartoon-style pit, the kind covered with leaves spread over the top like some dollar-store disguise. He’s still down there, metaphorically flailing around like a maniac while you’re chilling up above, completely unaware that you Tom & Jerry-ed his heart.

In hindsight, Jake hopelessly pining for you was about as inevitable as a rom-com misunderstanding. The second his childhood best friend Grace—aka your college best friend and roommate—introduced you guys during freshman year orientation, Jake was hit with the biggest, dumbest case of whiplash known to mankind.

You were so confident, so outgoing, so unapologetically you. You were like sunshine, and Jake was just there, squinting and hoping he wouldn't spontaneously combust into a thousand ashes from simply staring at you.

But, as with all classic tropes (and pining fanfics), Jake knows that mixing friend groups and love interests is a recipe for disaster. And not just any disaster—a culinary trainwreck. Worse than whatever recipe the dining hall uses to make their sad excuse for tacos. Like, is it beef? Is it tofu? Who knows, and honestly, I don't think anyone wants to know.

Anyways, that brings us to today: a couple years later, with Jake still mooning over his friend. His feelings remain the best-kept secret in the history of best-kept secrets—well, if secrets were meant to be as obvious as a neon sign in a blackout.

In fact, Jake’s attempts at subtlety are about as smooth as a drunk giraffe on roller skates. Whenever you walk into the room, it’s like someone hits the ‘shutdown’ button on his brain. One second, he’s cracking jokes and holding conversations just fine, the next? Boom. Total system failure. You can almost hear the Windows XP error sound the moment you catch him off guard with a smile.

It’s not that Jake can’t talk to you—he’s your friend, after all. But the second he catches your sweet laugh or smile and his feelings come rolling in and the butterflies come out? Well, that’s when words start slipping through his fingers like sand, and his once confident banter turns into a cautious game of verbal Jenga.

His brilliant solution?

Simple: stick to safe topics and keep it light. Foolproof, right? Well, if your idea of foolproof includes missed opportunities and enough internal cringe to fuel a thousand regret-filled 3am thoughts.

Luckily for him, you’ve gone all these years mistaking his massive, raging, hormonal crush on you as part of his ‘friendly, sweet, soft-spoken boy’ personality. And Jake? He’ll take that over an awkward-confession-which-may-lead-to-a-crash-and-burn-outcome any day.

Honestly, who wouldn’t? Jake thinks as he glances at you from across the lunch table, currently laughing at one of Jay’s terrible puns. Yep, being friends with you is totally fine… totally fine… totally fine.

Jake’s totally fine.

Jake is totally not one more bad-Jay-pun away from writing tragic love haikus in his Notes app and forming a backstory about his unrequited feelings.

As if right on cue, Jay cracks a banana-physics joke (because, obviously, Jay is an expert in theoretical physics despite never having taken a class), and while everyone else is laughing, Jake’s over here, contemplating the meaning of life:

Her laugh echoes bright, I’m lost, no GPS found, Help, I’m still simping.

Jake stares down at his phone, horrified. Did he seriously just… haiku his feelings? Help. Is this what rock-bottom looks like?

"Alright listen up you peasants," Heeseung clears his throat dramatically as he suddenly approaches the group's lunch table located outside on campus grounds, interrupting Jake's poetic inner melodrama. "Your savior has arrived."

“This better be good, Hee. The last time you said that, you tried to convince us that you could drink five Red Bulls, pull an all-nighter, and still pass that chem exam,” you smirk questionably.

Heeseung points at you. “And I did pass.”

“You got a 61%,” Grace says, not even looking up from her phone.

“That’s still passing!” Heeseung declares, full of confidence. “Anyway, this time is different. I’ve been working on something life-changing.”

Jake shoots a glance in your direction before quickly looking away. He wants to say something witty, something that could make you laugh, but his brain is like, nah bro, not today. Instead, he nervously fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. Since when was there a hole there?

“Life-changing?” Jay leans back in his chair, arms crossed, wearing his usual smirk. “What, are you finally going to start that YouTube channel where you rank ramen brands?”

Heeseung rolls his eyes as he takes a seat, “First of all, that channel is coming. But no, this is better. Way better. I’ve created…”

He pauses for dramatic effect, looking at everyone and drumming his fingers against the table,“…a matchmaking algorithm.”

You burst out laughing, breaking the silence of the table, “What? Like a dating app?”

“Is this about to be Tinder, but, like, nerdy?” Grace raises an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical.

“Not quite. It’s a scientific, algorithm-based matching system, designed to pair people based on compatibility and mutual interests. And, lucky for you all, I’m testing it out on campus,” Heeseung grins, completely unbothered.

Jake’s heart skips a beat. Matchmaking? His mind first immediately goes to you. And then, downright panic. What if this robot thing pairs you with someone else? Oh god, what if it pairs you with, like, Jay, and he has to watch you guys flirt non-stop while he sits in the corner like a sad, dying houseplant? (mental note: water your houseplants when you get back to your dorm, jake!)

“Didn’t you also say it was ‘scientific’ when you ate an entire pack of Mentos and then drank Coke?” Grace’s brows furrow at the boy.

Heeseung scoffs at her dramatically. “That was for science. This is for love.”

You lean forward into the table, clearly interested.

“So you’re saying this app will scientifically find me a soulmate?” Your eyes light up and Jake’s heart skips a second beat as they happen to make eye contact with him as you say that. Please let that soulmate be me. Please. “What’s the catch? You’re not the type to just… help people find 'love' for free.”

Heeseung shrugs, pretending to be modest, “Not true! I’m doing this purely out of the goodness of my heart.”

Jay coughs, "Cap.”

“Okay, fine,” Heeseung admits, “it’s for a coding competition. The winner gets a year’s worth of free ramen from that noodle place near the dorms.”

Grace’s jaw drops. “You mean Noodle Nirvana? The one with the spicy miso?”

“Precisely, the one with the spicy miso," Heeseung nods proudly.

You let out a giggle, “So you’re telling me, you’ve created a love machine just so you can hoard ramen?”

“Correction,” Heeseung says, raising a finger, “I’ve created a highly advanced matchmaking algorithm to bring people together and also hoard ramen.”

“Good enough” you shrug, raising your iced coffee in a mock toast to your nerdy friend. “Sign me up.”

Oh no. Jake's heart skips a third beat (someone get him an ambulance please). Oh god, you're most definitely going to get matched up with someone else. And if that happens, bye-bye to the 12 black cats he’s already mentally prepared to care for. Bye-bye triathlon training.

But on the other hand...this could be Jake's golden opportunity—that is if somehow the universe decides to play nice and matches you with him. This could be his chance, his moment, his... immediate descent into chaos.

"Can your app match me with that cute barista that works at the campus boba shop every Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 12pm to 5pm?" Jay's eyes sparkle with curiosity and excitement.

Heeseung gives Jay a look that says he’s one step away from calling campus security. "First of all, that’s borderline stalker territory. Second, no. It doesn’t work that way."

"So..there's no way you can influence the results at all? It's purely the robot’s doing?" you cock your head at Heeseung.

"Again, it's an algorithm! Not a robot," he then shrugs, "and I’m above bribery. Unless, of course, you’ve got a worthy offer."

"ooOoOh, corruption? Me likey," Jay’s eyebrows shoot up in mischief, "I'm in. Where do I sign up?"

“Already done, my friends. Check your emails," Heeseung pulls out his phone and points at it.

Jake’s phone buzzes at that moment, and when he opens it, the email is sitting at the top of his inbox. He’s never been more nervous to open an email in his life. Well, except maybe his college acceptance letter. Or his professor’s recent feedback on his History of Modern Warfare essay.

You tap your screen and start reading the email out loud:

Subject: [IMPORTANT SCHOOL ANNOUNCEMENT] Hello there awesome students & fellow single-tons, Have you ever looked around campus and thought, ‘Wow, everyone here is either taken, weird, or impossible to talk to?’ Well, I’m here to save you from the trenches of singleness with...*drumroll please* THE MATCHMATIC 3000 — the university's very own matchmaking algorithm! How does it work you ask? Simple. 1. Download the app from the link in this email (no, it's not a scam or a virus, I promise). 2. Enter your name and student ID (for verification purposes only – no catfishing allowed!) 3. Answer a bunch of super fun questions that might make you question your life choices but will definitely help MatchMatic 3000 find your perfect match! Once you’re done, the app will work its algorithmic magic to pair you with someone who’s probably just as confused about life as you are but is at least willing to share similar pizza toppings with you. The results will be sent out after a few days of algorithmic wizardry! Why am I doing this, you ask? Because who doesn’t love a good matchmaking fiasco? It’s like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, except instead of pasta, it’s your love life. And hey, if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have some hilarious stories to tell your future therapist! (Please don't bill me for your therapy bill. I'm broke.) It’s scientifically programmed, which means it’s flawless. Trust me, I’m very smart. Sign up now, and may your love life finally flourish. If it doesn’t, well, you can’t say I didn’t try. Questions will be released tomorrow, so sign up today before you catch a serious case of FOMO when all the cool kids start using the app ;) Sincerely, your friendly Campus Cupid, Lee Heeseung <3 *Disclaimer: The university, nor I, takes no responsibility for any romantic entanglements, awkward encounters, or sudden realizations that you might be better off single. Please use the MatchMatic 3000 responsibly.*

You look up, trying to hold in your laughter, “Heeseung, what the hell is this?”

Everyone around the table bursts into muffled giggles as they take in the sight of a 240fps gif of Heeseung’s head superimposed onto a sparkly cupid’s body, dramatically shooting an arrow into the abyss of their screens.

"It's called marketing, Y/N. You wouldn't understand,” Heeseung says unbothered.

“You really called yourself campus cupid,” Grace manages to get out, laughing so hard she’s practically wheezing.

“I said what I said,” Heeseung replies, puffing out his chest like a self-proclaimed genius. “And it’s true. I am your cupid. My algorithm is perfect. You guys are just haters. Just wait until I go viral and become rich and famous. Jake, you support me, right?"

Jake, who hasn’t uttered a peep in maybe a century, suddenly finds himself put on the spot. Oh no, I’ve been radio silent. They probably think I’m plotting my grand escape or something.

You turn towards Jake, waiting for his response and with a smile on your face, which is enough to send him into a decade long coma he thinks.

“Uh... yeah, for sure. Whatever it takes for that ramen, right?” he blurts out, awkwardly throwing in a finger gun for good measure.

Nailed it.

"Jakey here is too sweet to disagree with you, Hee, “ you look up at him, flashing him a soft, teasing smile.

And that’s it. Jake’s soul exits stage left.

He nearly chokes on his own saliva at the casual way you let the pet name roll off your tongue. It’s as if you’ve just handed him a ticket to a new dimension where 'Jakey' is a thing and he’s suddenly the happiest (and only) person on the planet.

Jakey, you called him Jakey. His mind takes an ad-break as he tries to recover. Is this…flirting? Is this how normal people flirt? Or are you just trying to send him into cardiac arrest for fun?

Either way, Jake’s officially malfunctioning. He deduces you’re just being your typical, outgoing self—completely oblivious to the heart palpitations your simple actions send to Jake’s heart. How can someone be so effortlessly charming yet unaware of the chaotic consequences?

“Y-Yeah, totally, sorry man,” he croaks out, praying to all higher powers above that this brief interaction is over. Heeseung's love machine may be flawless, but Jake? He’s barely functional.

Jake stares at the floor, trying to process this entire ordeal, as the rest of the table returns to their everyday conversation. This is happening. This is real. He needs to find a way to get matched with you, or else he can kiss Salt and Pepper (two of the twelve cats he’s already mentally named and is now emotionally invested in) goodbye. He glances over at you, who’s already—bless your curiosity—downloading the app.

Jake gulps. He’s doomed.

Today's the day. Jake’s internal doomsday.

Also known as, MatchMatic-3000-launches-it's-questions-day.

To the group's surprise, Heeseung’s love machine has gone viral across campus—it’s been the buzz of the school since his mass email blast 24 hours ago.

“Alright gang, let’s see if this app is as magical as Heeseung’s ego claims!” you declare, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you join everyone at the usual lunch table outside.

Jake, sitting beside you, is staring at his phone like it holds the secrets of the universe.

“I’m just hoping it matches me with someone who understands the sacred bond between a man and his video game console,” he mutters, sneakily glancing at your screen to see if you’re answering questions about your favorite video games. Because obviously, that’s the secret to his heart.

You’re too engrossed in the questions on your phone to notice his subtle mission.

“Even better,” you say without looking up, “I hope it matches me with someone who’ll actually play video games with me.”

Then, you look up and throw him a quick wink. Casual. Effortless. But to Jake? It’s like being a victim of a hit and run to the heart.

He’s definitely as red as his Asian Flush after two shots of soju. Maybe three.

Jay suddenly chimes in, “What if the app pairs us with people who have weird hobbies? Like, what if I get matched with someone who collects miniature spoons or lives in a house made entirely of cheese?”

Grace snickers at the overly dramatic boy. “Jay, I think you’d thrive in a cheese house. You’ve already mastered the art of cheesy puns.”

Jake, still staring at his phone, suddenly gets an epiphany, “Wait, do you think it can match you with someone who’s just as obsessed with obscure internet memes as I am?”

You let out a giggle towards his direction, amused by his question, which makes Jake realize that he said that out loud. Well, if he made you laugh, that's a win in his book.

Heeseung, noticing Jake’s moment of glory, nods.

“Oh, definitely. You might end up with someone who can appreciate a well-timed ‘Doge’ meme or has a shrine dedicated to Rickrolling."

“These questions are so random! A black cat or a golden retriever? What does that even mean?” you exclaim suddenly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Excuse me, it’s all about the science of psychology, Y/N—” Heeseung stabs his fork into his pasta with an almost theatrical flair, “—the algorithm needs to understand your deepest preferences. It’s not about cats or dogs; it’s about what your choices say about your soul.”

Jay, munching on his questionable-looking dining hall taco, grins. “So, basically, the app’s trying to figure out if we’re more ‘moody cat person’ or ‘happy-go-lucky dog lover.’ Got it.”

Jake’s thumb hovers nervously over his screen as he reaches the same question himself. His eyes dart back to your screen but can’t seem to make out what you’ve selected. You’re biting your lip in concentration, and Jake’s brain glitches for a second because, wow, how can someone look so cute answering stupid personality questions?

Heeseung notices Jake’s expression from across the table and leans back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “Jake, you look like you’re solving world hunger over there. What’s the deal? Just pick whatever, man.”

“I’m—I’m just being thorough, okay? This app’s gonna decide my entire love life. No pressure or anything,” Jake shifts uncomfortably, his face heating up.

Jay snorts, stuffing yet another taco in his mouth, "Jake’s acting like the app’s about to determine the rest of his life. Just chill, man. You’ll get paired with someone. Even if it’s someone who only eats purple foods or, I don’t know, makes miniatures of their exes.”

"Y/N's definitely getting paired with someone awesome," Grace teases, nudging you playfully from your other side. "Someone tall, athletic, probably knows how to cook gourmet meals."

Jake internally winces at the description. Tall? He's definitely 6 feet...on a good day...with the right shoes. Athletic? Jake plays soccer! Well..played. In, like, middle school. Gourmet meals? He considers dino nuggets a gourmet meal so...he's practically a Michelin-star chef.

You laugh at Grace's comment, shaking your head, "Honestly, I'm just hoping for someone who doesn't ghost me after three texts. Low bar, I know."

Jake swallows besides you. Three texts. Got it. Don't ghost her, even if you do forget what words are in her presence.

Suddenly, you look up from your phone and turn to lock eyes with Jake. "What did you put Jake? Black cat or golden retriever?"

Jake freezes. Oh no, is this a test? This is definitely a test. He panics for a split second while his brain scrambles for the lobe that contains actual, cohesive, vocabulary.

"Uh, golden retriever. Definitely," he blurts out, voice higher than usual. "Golden retrievers are...loyal. And fun. Kinda like...you?" The last part slips out before he can stop himself.

The table goes silent. Jay chokes on his suspicious taco. Grace's eyebrows shoot up in amusement. Heeseung stares at Jake like he's watching the most entertaining drama unfold right in front of him.

You blink at Jake, then follow it with a soft giggle. "You're comparing me to a dog now?"

Jake goes bright red, stammering as he's viciously shaking his head, "No—I mean—not like that! I just meant—"

But you're still laughing next to him, he can feel your shoulders happily shaking against his, and while he's completely mortified, he can't help but feel the tiniest flicker of hope. At least you're laughing with him, not at him. Right? Right?

"Did anyone consider the fact that we might get matched up with one another?" Jay changes the topic as he wipes the remaining taco shell crumbs off his mouth.

Jake notices the look of pure horror plastered on both you and Grace's faces.

"Ew," you pretend to gag, while Grace laughs next to you. "Hard pass. You've got the same level of commitment as a first grader has with finishing their homework, and Heeseung’s definitely gonna end up marrying a computer. Plankton and Karen style. I think I'd rather date a Roomba. And you know I hate Roombas."

Jake can't help the smile tugging at his lips. He knows you're joking, but hearing you rule out the other two makes him feel just a little better. But then...wait.

You didn't say anything about Jake. What if you’ve already ruled Jake out, too? Not even a contender against Jay and Heeseung? The panic sets in as he thinks oh god, maybe she sees me like an actual Roomba—just following her around, waiting for crumbs of affection.

Heeseung feigns hurt by dramatically clutching his heart. "Oh no. I'm so heartbroken," he deadpans.

"I'd date you, Hee, don't worry," Jay winks, and without missing a beat, Heeseung blows him an exaggerated air kiss. "Thanks, babe."

Jake, still lost in his thoughts, wonders if he’s been friend-zoned so hard he’s transcended into actual appliance territory, right next to the Roombas.

Everyone's laughing over Heeseung and Jay's antics, while Jake here is spiraling into a full-on existential crisis over accepting his fate as the Roomba of your heart.

Is this my life now? I'm a...self-cleaning vacuum?

Jake comes to a realization the next morning: he can’t just settle for being the human equivalent of a non-sentient vacuum in your life. He needs to take action—and he needs to do it fast. Especially before the algorithm matches you with some 6-foot-tall, athletic, five-star chef who probably wakes up with flawless skin and has a perfectly curated Spotify playlist.

Jake’s brain scrambles for ideas, as he stares hopelessly at the blank essay document on his laptop titled: "History of Modern Warfare (with revisions)" His essay can wait. World War II may have been a big deal, but this? This is you. Only the most important thing to walk this earth (in Jake's eyes, at least).

What would a normal human being do? Grow a pair, march right up to you, and say something charming (probably, Jake wouldn't know). But Jake? Jake knows there’s a higher chance of him learning to speak fluent French in the next 24 hours than actually telling you how he feels.

Because that would require practice—in front of a mirror, at least five times a day, for three days straight. And by then, the matches will already be out, and you'll be swept off your feet by some handsome demigod in human form.

Jake sighs as he tries to type at least one sentence of his essay, hoping it will distract him from his lingering thoughts of you. Your smile, your laughter, your wink, your voice saying ‘Jakey’...

“The Battle of Normandy marked a significant turning point…”

Jake frowns. Turning point. Oh, great. That’s exactly what Jake’s waiting for—a turning point with you. Except his 'battle plan' is to let Heeseung’s love algorithm do the work for him. Yeah, sure. Because nothing says romantic courage like leaving your fate up to a glorified love machine.

Jake groans at the screen. He tries to type more, but his brain is already spiraling into worst-case scenarios. What if you get matched with someone who can bench-press a refrigerator? Or worse—someone who actually knows how to emotionally open up to you?

Frustrated, Jake slams his laptop shut, earning dirty glares from the students studying quietly around him in the library. His essay is long forgotten at this point. Who cares about The Battle of Normandy when his entire (nonexistent) love life is crumbling right in front of him?

He pulls at his hair in sheer desperation, searching for answers, any answers, to this disaster. Think, Jake, think!

Wait.

That's it.

Answers. He needs answers! Not the kind that would magically fix his social dysfunction around you. No, not those—that’s way beyond saving.

But your answers. The ones you put into The Matchmatic 3000. If Jake could somehow get a hold of those, he could match his responses to yours perfectly. Then BAM! Instant match. One foot in the door. Then maybe, just maybe, you'd stop seeing him as some automated dust-sucker.

A smile forms across Jake's face. Pure genius (self-proclaimed, of course).

Yes, this is the solution to all his problems. Well, except for the crippling anxiety and social awkwardness part. But one thing at a time, right?

Now he just needs your answers.

And possibly a therapist.

“Jake! What's wrong?" Grace appears at Jake's table tucked away in the back of the library, her hair frazzled and disheveled from her sprint across campus as a result of Jake's ‘SOS’ text.

Jake is sitting at the table, hands folded, looking perfectly intact, totally not at all in an ‘SOS’ situation, and has a small smile on his face as he looks up at his best friend.

“I figured it out!”

"You better tell me you just figured out time travel or the cure for world hunger, because I just full-on sprinted across campus thinking you got your laptop stolen or, heaven forbid, you got your hand trapped in the printer again,” Grace's eyes narrow as she takes a seat across from him.

"I told you not to mention that again! It was an honest mistake," Jake's eyes widen, afraid people around them heard about Jake's embarrassingly tragic battle with the library’s printer. "But no, it's even better than that. It's kinda...off the books though."

Grace blinks back at him. "How off the books? Like...'help me hide the body' off the books, or 'expose the secret recipe to the dining hall's mysterious tacos' off the books?”

Jake glances around to make sure no one's eavesdropping, then lowers his voice, "More like...'help me get Y/N's answers to the Matchmatic 3000' off the books?"

There's a beat of silence as Grace struggles to process the absurdity of what she just heard.

“Wait, hold up. You want me to help you cheat the dating app?”

Jake nods fervently, if not a little desperately.

"It's not cheating! Call it...strategic alignment. I need to make sure I match with her. That's the only way I could ever get a chance, and you're the only one who can help me!"

Grace leans in from across the table, clearly in disbelief, yet amused, "So let me get this straight...you want me to somehow get her answers, so you can change yours to match hers, in hopes that Hee's magical AI or whatever pairs you two together?"

Jake attempts to give her his best 'please help me' puppy eyes, but it's clear he's more of a lost kitten right now.

"And you're asking me to get my hands dirty...why exactly?" She smirks at the fidgety Jake, finding his over-the-top desperation for you both amusing and oddly endearing.

"Uh..because you're my best friend, duh. And also, you're the closest to her—if Jay and Hee found out, they'd never let me live it down! And Jay would probably make a TikTok about it just to watch me die from embarrassment," Jake rambles, hoping he can convince the seemingly unimpressed girl in front of him.

“Uh-huh," Grace raises an eyebrow. "And what’s in it for me? Sure, I'm your best friend, but I'm also her friend and ever-so-loyal roommate. You're asking for a lot here, bud."

Jake looks flustered for a moment, as if he hadn’t really thought about that part.

“Uh, well, I could—um—maybe buy you coffee for a week? Or, I don’t know, do your physics thesis project you've been avoiding."

Grace pretends to consider his offer for a second, but the second he mentions the ‘physics thesis project’, her decision is instantly made.

"Fine," she sighs, leaning back in her chair. "But just so you know, if this goes sideways, I was never here."

Jake smiles like he just won the lottery. Salt & Pepper, here I come!

"But also…," Grace begins, looking right at Jake, making him squirm. Not in a cute Y/N-noticed-me type of squirm, but the oh-no-I'm-about-to-get-lectured kind. "Take my advice, Jake. Stop being a wuss."

Jake's grin falters at his friend's sudden, but painfully true, words.

Grace leans in, her voice serious, "I mean, you can't just hide behind an app and hope for the best. If you really want a shot with Y/N, you need to actually, I don’t know, tell her your feelings? She's not some untouchable goddess who's going to smite you for shooting their shot."

Jake winces. "But what if she's not interested? What if I make it weird? What if—"

"Jake," Grace's voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "You won't know unless you try! And you're a great guy, but how would Y/N know that if you don't open yourself up more? Seriously, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Uh. Spontaneous combustion? If I look her in the eyes for longer than 5 seconds, I just might implode. Or, you know, cease to exist," Jake deadpans, his hands gesturing wildly to emphasize his impending doom.

Grace snorts at her poor, poor friend, clearly amused by his romantic spiral. "Okay, first, no one's ever died from eye contact, buddy. Second, I'm not saying you should storm out there and go ask for her hand in marriage or anything—please, don't do that. I'm just saying, just at least try talking to her more maybe.” Baby steps, Grace thinks, baby steps.

Jake blinks. She's right. Of course she's right. He can’t let some algorithm control his entire love life, no matter how advanced or magical Heeseung claims it is.

Grace, seeing Jake's gears slowly turning, throws him a lifeline: “Alright, fine. If it makes you feel better, she may or may not have called you cute once. Better?"

Jake freezes. His eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. Cute? You called him cute? All the oxygen leaves his lungs, and he’s pretty sure he’s about to pass out right here in the library.

"Wait, what?"

"Don’t get too excited," Grace smirks, clearly enjoying watching Jake short-circuit. "She said it in passing. Once."

Jake, now on the verge of a mental breakdown, blurts out, "Like, ‘aw-that-puppy-is-cute’ cute? Or like, ‘he’s-so-cute-I-wanna-kiss-him’ cute? I need specifics, Grace!"

Grace’s grin widens, watching her friend spiral into oblivion. "Jake, you’re overthinking it again. Relax. Just take the win."

"Grace, please, I'm begging you. On a scale from 'puppy' to 'kiss', where do I stand?!" Jake's eyes are practically bugging out of his head at this point.

Grace rolls her eyes, but her teasing smile doesn't falter. "If you keep freaking out like this, you’re gonna drop down to 'awkward goldfish' cute real quick."

"I’m doomed,” Jake groans, burying his face in his hands.

Grace pats his back with mock sympathy. "Yep. But at least she'll think you're cute while doing it."

Jake peeks at her through his fingers. “You think she meant 'kiss' cute?”

"Finish your plan first, lover boy. Then we’ll talk."

Jake can’t help the ridiculous smile growing on his face.

Kiss cute, he decides. It has to be.

You think if you have to read one more sentence about human anatomy, you might actually cry. You sigh as you close your textbook and push it aside to reside with the unnecessary amount of highlighters scattered on the café table between you and Grace.

"I hate this. I hate the circulatory system. Why do I even need to know what the ‘superior vena cava’ is," you groan as you take a sip of what's left of your watered down iced matcha.

Grace hums in front of you as her eyes continually scan the textbook, desperate to absorb just enough information to survive tomorrow's anatomy quiz.

"Because it keeps you alive, Y/N. Duh," Grace jokes as her eyes stay peeled to her textbook.

"Screw that," you scoff. "I don't need the circulatory system to keep me alive. I just need caffeine and BTS's entire discography pumped through my veins to live."

Grace finally glances up, giving you an amused side-eye at your usual dramatic flair, before she remembers she has an important mission at hand:

Operation Jake & Y/N.

Grace slams her textbook closed with a dramatic thud to show she's finished studying (she's not).

"Sooo...speaking of circulatory systems and...hearts and...stuff—did you ever finish filling out the questions for Hee's love app thingy?"

You, oblivious to the sudden change in topic, shrug as you fish your straw around your plastic cup, hoping to find more drops of watery matcha to savor.

"Yeah, I finished it the other day. It took me forever though. Like, why does it need to know if I'd rather have a personal trainer who can only teach me interpretive dance versus a personal chef who can only cook cereal? I swear Hee was on some drugs or something while creating those questions."

"Not drugs, probably an unhealthy amount of caffeine and ramen though," Grace snorts, still trying to play it cool.

"Caffeine is a drug, doofus," you say pointedly, right before you get a smack in the forehead by Grace's crumbled up straw wrapper.

"Whatever," Grace laughs. "Hey I'm curious—what did you put for your answers? Wanna compare? See how similar we are?" Grace's leg is bouncing under the table, trying to keep up the ‘smooth’ façade, hoping you won't find her sudden interest weird.

"Sure, why not?" you nonchalantly agree, not thinking twice about the random request.

Grace blinks in surprise. That was...way easier than expected. She was ready to prepare some elaborate excuse, like ‘I need your answers to match you up with my desperate best friend who's head over heels for you!’

Oh wait. That part is real. You get the gist.

"Unless...," you pause suddenly. Uh oh. "Unless you're going to sell my answers to some mad scientist and they try to make an evil clone of me to take over the world and end up framing me and I'll have to clear my name in a dramatic world-televised court trial."

Grace blinks, before rolling her eyes, as her nervous heartbeat returns to a normal rate.

“You're so goddamn weird sometimes.”

You beam at your friend, clearly amused at yourself, as you scroll through your answers and send screenshots to Grace without a second thought. "Sent! Oh, and send me yours—I wanna know what you put for 'Stuck in a room with Shrek for 24 hours' versus 'Fight 100 duck-sized horses.'"

“Oh, vibe with Shrek, 100%,” Grace answers without skipping a beat, earning an agreeing high five from you.

Grace is ecstatic. This was so much easier than she thought. Not only does this mean her desperate best friend will finally get his shot with you (which also means she won’t have to hear his dramatic overthinking questions about whether you sharing a sandwich with him was a cosmic sign or just a sandwich), but it also guarantees her a week of free coffee and an A+ in physics for this semester.

She quickly types out a quick message to Jake as you're still distracted by your now near empty matcha cup:

Grace [1:26PM]: "mission accomplished. prepare for epic matchmaking success and a lifetime supply of guilt-free caffeine. for me, ofc"

Grace leans back in satisfaction, practically tasting the sweet (and caffeinated) taste of victory. She's done her end of Mission Impossible, and now it's up to Jake to do...well, whatever Jake does in these situations.

Her phone buzzes with a reply from Jake:

Jake [1:28PM]: THANK YOU!!! also...not a lifetime supply...just a week. don't get it twisted"

"Look, all I'm saying is," you declare, leaning back on the couch, "if all five of us pitch in, we could most definitely rob a bank."

What had started as a group study session two hours ago in your and Grace's apartment has, as usual, turned into your friend group's typical day of hanging out: wildly imagining scenarios so far removed from reality that there’s absolutely no chance you’d end up in them—but entertaining the idea anyway, because what else are you going to do when you're supposed to be studying?

Grace snickers from beside you, "Yeah, and with your stealth skills, we'd get caught in about three business seconds. You literally screamed when I dropped that piece of paper yesterday."

"It startled me! Gravity's such a scary concept, okay?" You huff, arms crossed. Jake, sitting on your other side, fights back the slight grin growing on his face as he watches you scrunch your face in that way he secretly finds unfairly cute, even if it is over your fear of inanimate objects. So weirdly adorable.

Heeseung, sitting cross-legged on the floor from across the couch, raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, do you even know how banks work?”

“She’s got the spirit. I’d give her a solid 7/10 for enthusiasm. Execution, though? Negative two,” Jay says as crosses his arms with a grin from beside Heeseung.

You grab and throw a couch pillow at him, which he dodges with ease, sticking out his tongue. Jake instinctively shifts closer to you, to your oblivion, like he’s ready to shield you from any incoming retaliation missiles.

“What, and you’d be the brains of the operation? Mr. ‘I forgot my own phone password for two days?’” You fire back.

Jay shrugs, unfazed, “Hey, no need to bring up the past. We all make mistakes.”

“Yeah,” Jake finally chimes in, hoping you will notice how smooth he sounds, “but not all of us text our own phone ‘Why won’t you let me in?’ while the password is literally ‘1234.’”

Everyone laughs, except Jay, who gasps and points dramatically at Jake, “Betrayal. How dare you?”

“It’s public knowledge, bro. You told everyone,” Jake raises his hands in defense, but his eyes keep flickering back to you, wondering if your sweet laughter is because of him this time. And call him delusional, but he really thinks it is. You throw your head back from laughing so hard, at some point your hand graces Jake’s knee next to yours to stabilize yourself.

It’s no secret—well, at least not to Grace—that Jake’s newfound confidence around you is all thanks to that one tiny lifeline Grace threw him: you called him cute once. Just once. And now, Jake’s running with it, holding on for dear life, and convincing himself that maybe, just maybe, you think about him the same way he thinks about you. Maybe.

“I told you all in confidence! That was a moment of weakness!” Jay crosses his arms, looking like a child who just got scolded at. “I trusted you people.”

Grace, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the coffee table, pouts at Jay, “And that, my friend, was your first mistake.”

“Et tu, Grace?” Jay gasps, clutching his chest like he’s been personally victimized by the betrayal of his closest friends. Well…he was.

Heeseung, shaking his head, cuts in, “Okay, but if we’re robbing a bank, I’m in charge. I’m the only one here with any common sense.”

You frown, “What do you mean? I have common sense! I brushed my teeth today and everything!”

Jake watches you with a soft smile, finding even your exaggerated outrage so weirdly adorable.

Grace bursts out laughing, “Y/N, sweetie, that’s basic hygiene, not common sense. But good job. We’re all proud of you.”

Jake, clearly riding his boost of confidence from earning that one (1) laugh from you, decides to add in and nods, looking completely serious, “Honestly, I think we should celebrate that. Maybe get you a gold sticker or something.”

“You guys are bullies,” you mutter, sinking into the couch, but you're laughing too. Jake tries to hide how melted he feels when you laugh like that—all bright and simply, you.

“It's nothing personal, Y/N,” Heeseung adds, smirking, "but you can't easily get startled by inanimate objects and claim you have common sense."

Jay snickers, pointing at you, “Remember that time you thought the vacuum was attacking you?”

You shoot him a glare, debating on throwing yet another couch pillow at him, “It moved on its own, okay? That’s suspicious.”

"The Roomba was doing its job. You nearly declared war on the thing," Grace, mouth full of popcorn, can't defend you on this one.

Jake, on the other hand, feels compelled to defend you, even if he knows it’s ridiculous. You know, since he could relate to the whole impending-mental-doom-by-a-Roomba thing, "The Roomba was being weird that day.”

Jay side-eyes Jake, “Oh, so now you’re on Team Roomba Conspiracy? That’s rich.”

That is rich, considering Jake nearly signed up for therapy just days ago after having an existential crisis about being recruited to join your arch-nemesis—Roombas. Now here he was, ready to go to battle for your anti-automated-dust-sucker stance.

Jake shrugs, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, suddenly hyper-aware of your attention on him, “I just think we shouldn’t dismiss Y/N’s concerns so quickly.”

You turn to him with the softest smile he's seen in the history of smiles—one that fully knocks the breath right out of him.

“Aw thank you, Jake! Someone around here finally gets it,” you momentarily rest your head on his shoulder for two fleeting seconds—short enough to show your appreciation but long enough to utterly dismantle the boy’s composure.

He’s frozen. Brain empty, no thoughts…except for the scent of your shampoo rushing his senses. He’s not sure if he’s about to pass out or propose.

“Simp,” Jay mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Jake to hear. Jake shoots him a warning look, making Jay’s smirk grow wider.

Grace, still giggling at the memory of you running away from a Roomba, then turns to Heeseung with a curious grin, "Speaking of concerns, how's the app going? When are we gonna find out who's paired with who?"

Heeseung immediately groans, frustratingly running a hand through his hair, "It's...going, alright. Some people are weird, man. I don't even know how to process some of these answers."

"Really? How so?" You perk up at this, interested.

Heeseung sighs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, "Okay, look at this—someone put 'ramen' as an answer for what they're looking for in a partner."

Jay snorts, "Sounds like something you’d put, honestly. You should match yourself up with them!"

"And this person," Heeseung continues, scrolling and displaying his phone to the rest of the group, "just answered 'vibes' to every single question. Every. One. What does that even mean?!"

Everyone shrugs around the coffee table in confusion as the exasperated boy dramatically tosses his phone to the side like it personally offended him.

"Anyways. I should be done tonight, so hopefully the matches get released tomorrow," he reveals, to everyone's excitement.

"Ohmygosh, tomorrow?" Grace claps her hands lightly. "I can't wait, I hope I get paired with someone who, like, is secretly Spiderman or something. You know, someone with substance."

"I'm nervous, what if I get a total weirdo?" You mutter, eyes widening at the thought.

Jake thinks to himself: as long as he gets paired with you, he doesn't mind being a total weirdo. He'll be your total weirdo. He'll dye his hair neon rainbow, start collecting Russian nesting dolls, and live in a treehouse if that's what it takes.

"Y/N," Jay speaks up, cocking his head out from the bag of potato chips he's currently annihilating, "if anything, you're gonna be the weird one in whatever relationship you end up in."

You instinctively reach for another pillow to throw at him, but Jake is faster, shielding his arms around you, "Okay, okay, let's be nice. I'm sure Y/N will end up with someone perfectly normal, and anyone who ends up with Y/N will not find her weird at all."

That's because Jake better be the one that ends up with you. And he definitely doesn't think you're weird. Well maybe a little. In an endearing way.

And hopefully, in your eyes, he's normal. Or not—it's all the same to him, as long as he's the one by your side.

All the steps are set in stone. Now, he just needs the algorithm to do its thing and simply match you two together—which is bound to happen, given Jake is practically a Y/N 2.0 after copying all your answers. If this doesn't work, then the universe is officially out to get him.

Yes. Everything will happen according to plan.

It has to.

Nothing goes according to plan.

Jake's eyes dart in panic between Grace's look of confusion and your phone screen, currently displaying to the rest of the lunch table your so-called soulmate's name, which, surprise surprise—it's not Jake.

Instead, it reads:

Match: Park Sunghoon

You shrug as you glance up from your phone, completely unaware of the Tom and Jerry hole Jake is crawling back down right now, "I think he's that new transfer student. I've seen him around in my psychology class, he's kinda cute!"

Jake's heart sinks deeper than he thought was humanly possible. Cute? Like 'puppy' cute or 'kiss' cute? Oh god, his worst nightmare is coming true. He's about to be banished back to the sad category of 'automated vacuums' in your heart, left to raise 12 kittens on his own.

Jay frowns, crossing his arm, "No fair, I haven't gotten my match yet, and Y/N gets the cute new kid? This is rigged."

Heeseung smirks, leaning back in his chair like some algorithm god, "Patience, child. The results are rolling out throughout the entire day. I added that feature for the 'element of surprise.'"

Grace, meanwhile, subtly leans towards Jake while everyone else rambles over your match, "Looks like the universe hates you."

"I can't believe it didn't work. It doesn't make any sense, it has to be broken or something,” Jake says, visibly upset, trying his very best to not dig himself a grave right then and there in the middle of the university's quad.

Grace shrugs, feeling confusion on behalf of her best friend as well, "At least you can say you tried. Maybe the universe is trying to hint at you to actually talk to her and get into a relationship the normal, organic way."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles. But Jake is too perplexed to listen to Grace's—very, very, valid—logic right now.

Jake's thoughts spiral faster than a malfunctioning Roomba trapped in a corner, repeatedly slamming into the same wall with no hope of escape. Honestly, Jake wishes there was a wall around him right now to repeatedly slam his head into. Maybe that way the delulu in him—the one that convinced him he could hack his way into your heart—can finally escape his brain.

His brain is short-circuiting in panic, bouncing between the reality of his failure and the absolute tragedy that Sunghoon—the cute transfer student (you probably think he's kiss-cute too) is about to waltz in and steal his entire future. Jake can already picture Sunghoon effortlessly holding all twelve hypothetical kittens, while Jake is left alone with nothing but his shattered dreams.

Before Jake can imagine another over dramatic scenario in his head of you and Sunghoon that would make him physically rip out his own heart and stomp all over it, Grace's phone suddenly pings.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Everyone turns to look at her, as Grace glances up from her phone, the look of pure horror on her face.

Grace slowly turns her phone around for everyone to see, and there, in bold letters, sits:

Match: Park Jongseong

A beat of silence (or as Grace would call it, moment of silence for the fallen. The fallen being Grace), then...

“HA!” Jay cackles, pointing at her. “Sucks to be you.”

"Oh, you think this is funny, Park?" Grace glares at him, and at everyone else for giggling at the absurd match. "I would literally rather match with my chemistry TA who wears socks with sandals."

Heeseung perks up, clearly overly amused at the match drama ensuing around the table, "Wait, that chem TA's not that bad lowkey..."

Grace throws him a look, "Hee, this isn't about Steve the TA! This is about my life being ruined in real time!"

Jake tunes in and scoffs, so shocked at his friend's statement, he forgot the setting they're all in, "Your life being ruined? What about mine?"

Jake quickly silences himself after he realizes what he just said..and in front of you.

"What about your life getting ruined, Jake? Did you get your match yet?" You look up at him from across the table, curious who could possibly have Jake in such shambles (Ironic, isn't it?).

"Err—no, not yet. What I mean is..uhh," Jake stammers, his remaining brain cells (which isn't many at this point) trying to muster up the best lie they could to cover himself. "My life would totally be ruined if Grace and Jay end up together because...uhh..because I'd totally have to third-wheel them all the time!"

Yes, that's good Jake. Good job, good job.

You seem to be convinced enough by the excuse, your eyes suddenly widening in fear.

"Oh god, you're so right! This means Jay's gonna be over at our apartment all the time now. He'll probably never leave,” you visibly shudder.

Grace gestures wildly at the entire table in disbelief, "You guys! What in the world makes you think Jay and I are going to end up together just because some love algorithm thinks we're good for each other? No offense, Hee."

Jay, on the other hand, reclines back in his chair, looking entirely too smug for someone who just got called out as a last-choice match, "Hey, the algorithm knows what's up. Maybe this is fate, Grace. This could be fun." He points between the two of them, as if sealing a deal.

"Fun?! Wrestling a bear made entirely of thorns sounds more fun," Grace physically recoils, like she just touched something soggy in the sink's drain, her expression sending the whole table into laughter.

"Honestly, I see it. Can't fight the science," you speak up, throwing a knowing look at Grace before Jay gives you an appreciative high-five from across the table.

Grace snaps her head towards you and gasps, "Traitor! How dare you—you better sleep with your door locked tonight or I swear—"

"ALL I'm saying is—" you raise your hands in defense, interjecting before Grace can vow to eliminate you and your future lineage from the face of this planet, "—I think it’s kind of sweet you matched with someone you actually know, you know? I mean, I wish I got paired with a close friend. I’ve always believed in the friend-to-significant-other pipeline."

Friend to significant other? Jake's internal monologue screeches to a halt. Y/N, I'm right here! I could be the one, not Sunghoon! That could be us!

Then, as if you could read his thoughts, your gaze meets Jake’s for just a beat too long, lingering in that space where words usually get lost. Jake swears your expression softens for half a second before you casually shift your focus back on Grace. His brain is officially overheating. Was that a hint? Was it?

Oh my god. She’s totally hinting at me.

Or—no, wait. Maybe he's reading into it again. Maybe he's so deep into this 'delulu' life that now every sentence feels like it's tailor-made just for him.

Yeah, that has to be it. Definitely the latter, right? Right.

Heeseung perks up from his seat, pointing at Grace, "See? She's right. Trust the science. And the friendship! But mostly the science. Science doesn’t mess up, man. It must've sensed some... undercurrents between you and Jay."

Grace looks like she’s about to leap across the table and strangle Heeseung with his own hoodie strings, but Jay interrupts with a wide grin.

"Yeah, undercurrents, Gracey-poo. We’re destined."

You lose it, breaking into uncontrollable laughter as Grace pretends to dry heave at the sound of the pet name.

"And just like that," she says, dramatically standing up from her seat, "I think that’s my cue to leave. If I hear Jay call me ‘Gracey-poo’ again, I’m going to bleach my ears."

The entire table is still laughing while Grace makes her swift escape to her next class. You finally manage to catch your breath, turning to Jake with a small smile (which also casually happens to send his brain into overdrive. No big deal, really).

"I'm excited to see who you get paired with, Jake! I bet she's amazing."

Jake feels his heart sink a little, but he forces a casual smile. No one is as amazing as you though (cheesy, but painfully true).

Trying to cover his disappointment, Jake shrugs, "I don’t know... I’m not really that into this whole matchmaking thing anyway." He leans back, feigning nonchalance. "I don’t think I’ll actually do anything with whoever I get matched with."

Jake can’t tell if the small breath you let out is in relief or if, once again, he’s feeding his delusional part of his brain that’s been working overtime.

But before he can overthink it, you raise an eyebrow, teasing him, "What? You’re not even curious? What if it’s someone perfect for you?"

Jake laughs awkwardly, desperately trying to keep his cool. It would be perfect if it was you. But instead, he blurts out, "Yeah, maybe they’ll match me with my future laundry partner. Who knows?" Laundry? Really, Jake?

"That would be a miracle," Heeseung looks up from his phone, gesturing towards Jake, "this guy never does his laundry."

Jake shoots him a sharp look, "Not true! I just need...some motivation.."

"Motivation from your future girlfriend?" Jay chimes in, raising an eyebrow. "That's gotta be a new low, dude."

You nudge Jake's arm from across the table, grinning, "Hey, maybe the algorithm’s just that good. It knows you need a laundry-loving girlfriend in your life."

Jake snorts, playing along, but his thoughts are a mess. Laundry-loving girlfriend? Nah, Jake needs you as his girlfriend—no question about it.

As you turn your attention back to your phone, the smile fades from Jake’s face, just for a second. His eyes linger on you longer than he means to, before he leans his head on his hand, pretending to care about whatever random TikTok Heeseung is showing him right now.

But the video’s a blur. All Jake can focus on is how wrong everything feels. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to be his match. You are his match. He knows it.

Forget laundry-doing-girlfriends or algorithm-approved pairings. If the app really knew what Jake needed, it would’ve led him straight to you.

And honestly, Jake’s pretty sure he’s smarter than the sleep-deprived, ramen-fueled algorithm Heeseung cooked up. So yeah, screw the love machine.

If the app won’t do it for him, then it’s time he takes matters into his own hands.

(About time.)

“Please please please pleeeeease!” Jake’s trailing behind Heeseung throughout their shared living room like a toddler whose candy got snatched, but way more desperate.

Yeah, uh, this is Jake's idea of taking matters into his own hands.

This is officially the billionth time Heeseung’s heard this in the past 24 hours. At least this time Jake managed to wait until Heeseung was out of the shower and fully clothed before launching into his regularly programmed meltdown. Progress, right?

“Jake! You do realize what you’re asking me, right? You sound insane.” Heeseung's patience is thinner than the cup ramen noodles he’s survived on for the past week. He takes a seat on their couch, before pointedly looking at his desperate roommate. “You’re being ridiculously dramatic.”

Jake scoffs, like the mature adult he is. “YOUR FACE is being ridiculously dramatic.” Yup. Like the mature adult he is.

Heeseung came out to the living room in hopes of being able to catch up on the latest episode of The Bachelor, but to no avail, as the younger boy was waiting to catch him all day (not that Heeseung was actively avoiding Jake or anything, no definitely not). But instead of screaming at the TV in frustration at the bachelor's terrible decisions, here he was, staring at Jake, silently contemplating how many years in prison throwing him off their apartment's balcony would cost him.

Three? Maybe four? Would it be worth it? Possibly.

“All you gotta do,” Jake begins to launch his TED Talk, “is send out a mass email to all your participants and be like, ‘Oh noooo, the AI or robot or magical unicorn or whatever messed up!’ Then you just re-release the answers, but this time, pair me with Y/N, bada-bing bada-boom. Easy peasy.”

Heeseung stares blankly. Honestly, prison doesn’t sound that bad.

“First off, it’s not a robot. It’s an algorithm,” Heeseung says for the seventy-millionth time, contemplating launching his side career as a 'broken record'. “Second, if people found out it ‘messed up,’ my reputation would be in shambles. Can you imagine all the couples who met their match, only to find out it was a giant, steaming load of—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jake waves him off, deploying his best attempt (key word: attempt) at puppy-dog eyes. “But what about my soulmate?”

Heeseung groans and rubs his temples, “Jake, if she’s really your soulmate, maybe try telling her how you feel like a normal human being instead of begging me to rewrite reality?”

Jake pauses, then, in true Jake fashion, says: “Yeah, but like...nah.”

Heeseung looks at Jake, who is now staring at him with the intensity of someone waiting for a miracle, “You really don’t see how unhinged this sounds, do you?”

Jake blinks.

“I mean, yeah, but, like, what if it works? I’m just saying, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Wayne Gretzky said that.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes so hard he’s pretty sure he saw his past life flash by, “Did Wayne Gretzky also say, ‘Be a total weirdo and bother your friend to break all ethical codes and rig an algorithm because you’re too chicken to tell a girl you like her?’”

Jake shrugs. “He might’ve. We don’t know his whole catalog of wisdom.”

“I’m begging you—just talk to her. Or, I dunno, send her a meme on Instagram or something. Do anything other than harass me. Please.”

Jake's face scrunches up like Heeseung just suggested he swim with sharks. “A meme? Really? Do I look like some kind of loser who communicates through memes? I’ll have you know I’m a very mature adu—”

SMACK!

A flying sock lands squarely on Jake’s head. He blinks, confused, as Jay strolls in from his room and plops next to Heeseung, looking way too pleased with himself, “Dude, you’re begging like a guy who just got ghosted by an ATM. Have some dignity.”

“You’re not helping,” Jake glares, throwing the sock back at Jay.

Jay, with the wisdom only a seasoned disaster like him can possess, shrugs, “Honestly, Heeseung, just rerun the thing. I’m pretty sure the universe would implode if this dude doesn’t get matched with Y/N. And frankly, I don’t want to deal with that level of cosmic drama.”

“Jay, not you too,” Heeseung pinches the bridge of his nose as he realizes he needs to find a new spot to watch his show from now on.

Jay raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, man, I’m just looking out for you. If Jake doesn’t get his way, he’ll never shut up. You’re one day away from him showing up at your room's door with a PowerPoint presentation. Think of your sanity. Plus, we all live together which means I have to see the presentation too. Think of my sanity.”

“PowerPoint, huh? I could probably whip something up. Maybe add some pie charts and bar graphs,” Jake, clearly inspired, mutters to himself.

Heeseung stares at the ceiling, wondering if this is his villain origin story (it most definitely is). “There’s absolutely no way I’m risking the integrity of my algorithm just because you can’t grow a backbone.”

Jake’s face falls, but Jay’s wheels are already turning on behalf of his friend, Mr. Simp, “Hold up, hold up. Hee, think about it. There’s gotta be something you want. I mean, everyone’s got a price, right?”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow, still annoyed, yet intrigued. What? A good deal is a good deal.

“And what exactly do you think I want, Jay?”

Jay flashes a grin that screams mischief.

“We know you’ve been grinding on this algorithm for weeks, man. Barely sleeping. Barely eating,” Jay narrows his eyes in dramatic fashion, as though he’s about to uncover a deep secret. “You’re like two ramen packets away from full-on malnutrition. Sad really.”

“Yeah, bro. We care about you. You need... balance. Maybe a reward for all your hard work?” Jake suddenly adds, nodding vigorously, picking up on Jay's scheming.

Heeseung stares at them blankly, “Are you bribing me with...food?”

“Not just any food,” Jake adds, gesturing dramatically. “Free food. Unlimited food from anywhere, for a month. On me. You’ll never have to eat those mystery meat tacos from the dining hall ever again.”

Jay interjects, pointing at Jake, "Hey, I'll have you know, those tacos are actually quite good! You just have to deal with the initial frequent toilet trips when you first try them..."

Heeseung’s resolve flickers for a moment. His stomach growls at the mere thought of having actual, edible food (for free!) that isn’t microwavable...or whatever they put in those tacos.

Jake, sensing weakness, presses on, “AND… AND! I’ll do all your laundry. One month. No questions asked. I’ll even iron your shirts.”

Jay, impressed by Jake's bargaining methods, nods his head along as if to convince the skeptical Heeseung, hoping to save himself from also having to hear Jake's consistent whining around the apartment any longer.

Heeseung narrows his eyes. “I don’t iron my shirts.”

“I’ll iron them anyway. Luxury service.”

A pause. Heeseung’s brain is doing some serious mental gymnastics. On one hand, his precious algorithm. On the other… food that didn’t come from a vending machine and clean clothes that weren’t dug out of his laundry basket which is somewhere in the abyss that is his closet right now.

Jay nudges him, whispering like he's the devil on Heeseung's left shoulder, “Think about it, man. What’s more important? Some random algorithm, or free pizza from that one place around the corner every day?”

“I swear, if this comes back to bite me..,” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his temples but already thinking about the mouth-watering cheesy goodness he could be having every day.

“So, you’ll do it?!” Jake’s eyes suddenly light up with hope, reflecting the picture-perfect image of a golden retriever right now.

“Fine,” Heeseung glares at him, feeling the last of his integrity slip away. “But if anyone asks, you never heard this from me. And I expect my meals hot and my laundry folded.”

Jake gleams and practically starts bouncing off their living room's walls. “Yes! Yes! You won’t regret this! I mean, you probably will, but thank you!”

Heeseung shakes his head, regretting every life choice that led to this moment. Jay claps him on the back. “See? Was that so hard? Now you can live like a king for a whole month. I’d call that a win.”

“A king with a crumbling empire,” Heeseung sighs.

“Y/N, here I come!” Jake’s already halfway out their apartment's front door, with no destination in sight—just overjoyed with excitement that he feels he could run ten laps around campus right now (plot twist: he doesn't—he ends up running down the stairs just to get winded and comes right back up to the apartment).

As Jake sprints off, Heeseung groans, “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?”

"Nah," Jay shrugs, already opening his phone. "Probably.”

Heeseung realizes he, indeed, made a terrible mistake when he looks up from his phone at lunch the next day and sees a particular you, storming up to the table.

Once you reach the table, you thrust your phone into his face, the ‘rematch’ email, that Heeseung had sent out only a few minutes ago, on display:

Subject [SCHOOL ANNOUNCEMENT] : MatchMatic 3000 Oopsie Alert Hello there, awesome students & fellow singletons, Sooo...this is awkward. Despite weeks of blood, sweat, and ramen going into the creation of the Matchmatic 3000, it appears that a tiny part of the code had a full-on meltdown 🤖💔 As a result, some of the matches you received earlier this week were... well... not exactly what the love gods (or the code) intended. But hey, don’t panic! Not everyone’s match was wrong, just a small handful (I swear, please don’t come for me!). I truly apologize for the mix-up, and I’m already back at my desk (and caffeine-mixed-with-ramen-fueled) fixing it. The correct matches will be sent out ASAP—right after I double, triple, and quadruple check that this algorithm doesn’t throw another tantrum. Thanks for your patience, and please don’t hunt me down! 🙏 I promise I’ll do better next time... or, at the very least, make sure the matches don’t require emergency therapy sessions. Your (struggling) Campus Cupid, Lee Heeseung, Creator of the Slightly Dysfunctional Love Algorithm™ 💘

”What happened to ‘Oh, the science is never wrong! I’m very smart, trust me, I’m King Romantic Algorithm!’” You mock in your best Heeseung impression, earning amused looks from everyone around the table—well, everyone except Heeseung.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Heeseung groans, holding up his hands defensively. Heeseung still can’t believe he’s apologizing for absolutely no reason, except for the looming fact that his hopelessly-in-love-with-you roommate is making him. “I swear, it must’ve been all the sleep deprivation. Maybe the algorithm glitched somewhere between my tenth cup of ramen and a power nap.”

Heeseung shoots a knowing side glance towards Jake without anyone noticing, and Jake looks anywhere but at the older boy, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Jay raises an eyebrow as he chews on his sandwich, “Honestly, I’m not mad about it. I was still holding out hope for that cute boba barista.”

“Excuse me?” Grace smacks Jay’s arm without hesitation from beside him. “What’s wrong with being matched with me?”

Jay blinks at her in disbelief.

“You literally said you’d rather wrestle a bear made of thorns than go out with me.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want to go out with me,” Grace mutters, crossing her arms as Jay chuckles and nudges her back.

“I don’t have time for your boba barista fantasies, Jay,” you grumble, feeling clearly annoyed over the rematch debacle.

Jake, sitting across from you, has been…well characteristically quiet, probably because he’s still trying to figure out how to comfort you without feeling a pang of guilt for being the reason you’re frustrated. But he gives it a shot anyway, turning to you with a cautious, almost-too-casual smile.

“Are you really that upset over the rematch, Y/N?” His voice gentle, almost laced with concern, you would think.

You glance up at him, instantly feeling less annoyed…for some reason. Jake’s always had this weird ability to calm you down without even trying. Maybe it was just his soft and steady demeanor that made you feel the need to match his. You take a deep breath, smoothing out the sharp edges of your mood before you speak.

“It’s not that I was desperate to be with Sunghoon,” you start, your voice softer now. “I don’t know…I guess it was just kinda exciting and meeting someone new is always fun, you know? I think I’ve just been wanting something new or different in my life.”

You trail off, and when you meet Jake's eyes again, you catch the way he's nodding along, completely absorbed in what you're saying. His attentiveness is cute, it makes something flutter in your chest—an unfamiliar warmth. You, a little curious, let the feeling linger, before quickly brushing it aside.

But Jake? He feels that warmth too, though for him, it’s coupled with a twinge of jealousy. He's bothered. The thought of you seeking something ‘new’ with someone else twists in his chest, but he hides it with a smile, determined not to let you see how much it bothers him.

“Well,” Jake begins, voice light but with a subtle undertone of something more you pick up on and you wonder what it is. “Maybe it’s a good thing. The rematch, I mean. It’s like a second chance. Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe Sunghoon’s secretly a serial heartbreaker…or into collecting voodoo dolls or something.”

You laugh, his humor breaking through any of your remaining frustration, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You sound awfully optimistic about this,” you tease, trying to figure out if there’s something more to his words. Was there? Probably not, you deduce. Definitely not.

Jake’s heart stutters, wondering if he's been caught red-handed. He fights the urge to panic and instead flashes you a cheesy grin and that somehow makes your stomach flip, though you can't exactly figure out why.

“Just saying, it could be a blessing in disguise,” he shrugs, his tone playful but sincere. “Maybe this time, it’ll match you with someone who’s right in front of you.”

Your breath catches as you take in his words quite literally. He’s just speaking metaphorically, right? But when your eyes meet again, there’s something in the way he looks at you—something that makes your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, you don't know why, but you feel vulnerable in front of Jake. Jake, of all people. He’s always been sweet, always been there, but right now, the way he’s looking at you feels different. Maybe it's the way he's talking to you like you two are the only people at the table, like everything you're saying is heard and understood, and you feel seen amidst all the chaos. Like he’s seeing you in a way you’ve never quite noticed before. And it sends warmth radiating through you, mixing with the confusion already swirling in your chest.

You blink and shake your head, you're overthinking. Jake is just being Jake—kind, supportive, and always ready to listen. That's just who he is. That's all.

So why can you still feel his lingering gaze on you even as the conversation moves on? And why does it make you feel...something? Shy? Nervous? Excited? Maybe all of the above.

Grace suddenly claps her hands together, breaking you out of your confusion, “Well, I think this whole rematch thing is the universe giving me a shot at a real love story,” she announces dramatically.

“Right, because nothing says ‘romance’ like a computer’s ruling,” Jay rolls his eyes.

Grace glares at him, “Maybe it’ll match me with someone who’s not emotionally unavailable for once.”

You laugh at your friends' banter, but your thoughts are still stuck on Jake's words, and all you can think about is the possibility of getting paired with Jake. You feel a fluttering sensation at that thought, and as if you were afraid he could read your mind, you try to sneak a glance at him, only to catch him looking at you at the exact same moment. His eyes quickly dart away, making the interaction short enough to avoid any awkwardness but still long enough for you to catch the same gentle, almost longing expression, on his soft features.

Your heart skips.

Feeling exposed, you clear your throat, trying to break the silent tension you’re sure only you’re feeling.

“Anyway,” you say, forcing a smile, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.”

Your friends all nod and murmur in agreement at your statement, but your heart lingers on Jake. You can't help but glance back at him, your mind refusing to shake this unfamiliar feeling of...something—maybe the slightest flicker of hope—that you match with him.

And maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't mind that at all.

And for Jake, well, there’s only one version of ‘everything working out at the end,’ and it's simple, really—it's you. And for him, that’s the only ending that matters.

Maybe Jake bit off a little more than he could chew this time.

Sure, we’ve established that Jake’s inner simp—Jake Simp—is willing to do just about anything to end up with you. Training for a triathlon? Done. Cat-sitting twelve cats? He’d do it, no questions asked. So, naturally, promising Grace a week’s worth of iced coffee deliveries, finishing her physics poster, funding Heeseung’s meals and doing all his laundry for a month didn’t seem that bad in comparison.

That was, until now—when he's speed-walking across campus, juggling an iced matcha latte (with two pumps of chai, because of course), a dry-cleaning bag with freshly ironed clothes, and a trifold poster board tucked precariously under his armpit, praying the drink doesn’t melt before he gets it to Grace.

Jake hastily rounds the corner by the library, barely keeping his balance when—

Smack.

Jake runs straight into someone, thankfully only sacrificing a few drops of the matcha as he stumbles, trying to keep everything from falling out of his grasp.

"Woah! Easy," an oddly familiar voice says, and when Jake looks up, he's met with your adorably amused expression. Of course it's you.

“Y/N!” Jake nearly chokes on his words, trying to steady himself. “I—uh, didn’t see you there.”

You laugh softly, your eyes flicking over everything in Jake's hold.

"Is that a...physics project? I thought you took that class last year."

Jake stalls, trying to recollect himself and somehow explain why he's running around campus with a trifold poster, (at this point, half-melted) iced matcha, and someone's else's dry cleaning, all over trying to end up with you. Because, yeah, there's really no way to explain that. But then...wait.

"I did take it last semester," he says, eyebrows raised. "You remember that?"

Now you're the one seemingly flustered, as if you're the one that just ran into their crush, sweating beads over running a million of chores.

You think your face is as red as a beet right now, well, at least it feels like it.

"Uh—yeah, I guess I did," you give a sheepish smile, nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and Jake thinks he's about to faint from lightheadedness right then and there.

"Plus, you were always talking about how the professor went on tangents about wormholes...but you would secretly enjoy them because you always swore you could survive getting sucked through one, remember?"

Jake’s heart skips at the way you're ever so casually recalling these details that even he didn't remember. He doesn't know which one takes the leaderboard, you calling him ‘Jakey’, or this.

"Wow," he breathes, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. "I didn't think you’d notice all that. I thought I was just rambling half the time and the group would nod along to just be nice."

You shrug, looking up at the boy in front of you while trying to play it off casually, even though your heart feels like it's about to break free from your ribcage.

"Well, I guess I’ve just always remembered the stuff you talked about. It’s...kind of hard not to when you go on about it with that excited look on your face,” you quickly clamp your mouth and your eyes widen as you realize what you just said out loud. Yup, there goes your heart—broken out of your ribcage, running wild and free.

Jake blinks, mentally putting this interaction at the top of the leaderboard, for sure.

"Wait, seriously?" Jake's eyes widen as he asks with his voice softer now, as if he's not entirely sure he heard you right. He shifts the matcha latte in his hand, trying to ignore the way his heart just did a little flip at your words.

You're mentally kicking yourself for blurting that out loud, what is going on with you? You swallow hard, feeling trapped in the moment.

"I mean...yeah," you admit, your voice even quieter now, feeling the gaze of his eyes on you, as you fiddle with the strap of your bag.

"You get really into the stuff you care about, and it's kind of cute. In, like, a wholesome way," you quickly add, feeling even more heat suddenly rush to your face, "it's just...you know...cute."

You trail off as you realize you said cute twice but Jake's smile just widens even more at that, and suddenly the mountain of things he's carrying feels a teensy bit lighter.

"So you think it's cute, huh?"

Jake feels a newfound confidence, noticing how you're not your typical outspoken self, in fact, you almost look nervous around him. This is his delusion speaking right? Have you always been paying attention to him this way and he's been too blindsided to see it? Regardless, for whatever reason—delusion or not—in this moment, Jake feels a little more out of his comfort zone in front of you.

"I didn't say that! I said wholesome!" Your eyes dart up to meet his as you protest, but the flustered look on your face betrays you and Jake thinks he could definitely soar to the moon right now.

Jake, still smiling, shifts his weight, and without thinking, takes a small step closer.

"You totally did," his eyes peer teasingly at you and he doesn't know how he's still breathing, let alone talking, with you looking up at him, like that. "Guess I’ll have to keep talking about stuff I care about, then."

You try to muster something witty back, but the way he’s looking at you—and the way he’s talking to you—is making it so incredibly hard to focus on anything but the fluttering in your chest.

"Yeah I guess you do," you smile back at him, noticing the lack of space between you two all of the sudden. You've never seen this side of Jake, and you can't help but enjoy it...the banter, the flirty glances, the way he makes you feel—

You clear your throat, snapping yourself back into reality, "So..what is with the project poster and…dry-cleaning?" Your eyes go back to everything he's juggling to avoid further eye contact, grateful for the distraction to give you a chance to catch your breath and regain your composure.

"Oh, this? You know, just doing my daily round of favors for Grace, Heeseung, and the rest of the world apparently," Jake chuckles, more so to himself, at how ridiculous of a situation he really did get himself in.

You smile, your heart warming at the thought. Jake's always been this way—kind, thoughtful, always helping the people he cares about. Well…in reality, he technically is doing this for someone he cares about…you.

"Damn, guess I should ask for the same treatment then, huh?" You tilt your head, lips quirking into a grin, eyes lit up.

Typically, that look on your face would have Jake in absolute shambles and he'd probably want to curl up into a turtle shell for life. But whatever cosmic forces that orchestrated this recent shift between you two had given him a much-needed confidence boost.

"I mean, I'd totally do that for you, if that's what you're asking," he leans in with another playful smirk on his face, "anytime."

Your breath catches, the butterflies in your stomach fighting to escape.

"Oh? Even if it means running across campus with an iced latte in one hand and my dirty laundry in the other?"

“For you? Yeah. No problem.”

For a second, you don’t respond, just watching him with a curious, unreadable expression that always drives him crazy. Now, Jake feels like he might actually pass out from how intensely you’re looking at him.

Finally, you smile. “I'll hold you to that, Jakey.”

Jake freezes. It's like you know exactly what that name does to him.

You giggle, clearly amused at the way he stumbles over a reaction and quickly add, "Anyway, I'll leave you to it! Grace is gonna kill you for bringing over a watered-down matcha. But I'll see you later tonight for movie night, right?"

Jake suddenly remembers the long-awaited (it was planned one day ago) movie night the group set for tonight, and he gets excited at the idea of seeing you again in just a few hours.

"Definitely, I'll save you a seat?"

"Mmm," you nod as you start walking away slowly, still facing him, basking in the way he's watching you. "See you later, Jakey!"

You finally turn and stroll away, thankful your back is to him now so he can't see how your smile is growing wider than you thought was possible.

On the other hand, Jake blinks, eyes on you as you walk away, still trying to process what just happened. Confidence or not, you always have the last word. But that doesn’t matter.

One thing is for sure—Jake Simp is in full throttle, and he’d happily run across campus a hundred times, coffee and laundry in hand, if it means hearing you say his name like that again.

Not that Jake’s been counting down the hours until movie night or anything—no, definitely not—but it’s been approximately five hours since he ran into you, and—if he’s being honest—about four and a half of those hours were spent thinking about how he’ll be seeing you again. The other 30 minutes? Well, they were spent explaining to Grace why her matcha was delivered watered down, which was a scolding he’d rather forget about.

Needless to say, he's even more excited than usual to see you tonight, for no particular reason. But after your last interaction, Jake feels closer to you than ever before. There’s a tiny flicker of hope, but he keeps reminding himself not to get ahead of himself. After all, he’s only recently mastered the art of saying more than one sentence to you without hyperventilating. Baby steps.

Jake’s eyes scan the coffee table of the living room, mentally checking off all the important snacks (important as in your favorite ones, of course).

"What vibe are we going for tonight?" Heeseung calls out from the couch, as he flips through the Netflix homepage on their TV. "Horror or coming-of-age rom-com?"

Jake grimaces, "Please, no horror. I’m still having nightmares from the last movie night." He shudders at the memory.

"Dude," Jay strolls into the room, chuckling, "Coraline is a kids movie!"

"A scary kids movie! That thing should be rated at least PG-13!" Jake protests, while still scanning the room to ensure everything’s perfectly set up. Snacks, check. Drinks, check. Your favorite blanket neatly folded on the seat he’s reserved for you? Check.

As if right on cue, a knock sounds at the door, and Jay casually starts, "I got it!"—but because Jake's Spidey senses (aka Y/N-senses) are sure it's you at the door, he's already sprinting and launches to the door, parkour style, slightly nudging Jay out the way and making it to the door before him—all in a second's time.

"It’s okay! I got it!" Jake blurts, a bit too breathlessly, leaving Jay with a mixed look of disbelief that quickly morphs into amused pity.

"Oookayyy," Jay drawls, turning to Heeseung with a knowing look, clearly entertained by their roommate. "He’s officially lost it."

Jake takes a breath and quickly runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to not look disheveled, before pulling open the door.

"Y/N. Hi."

"Jake. Hi," you smile up at him, dressed in what you would call your "comfy movie night outfit"—but what Jake would call Met Gala worthy. He's pretty sure you could wear a paper bag and it'd be Met Gala worthy.

For a split second, Jake’s brain malfunctions as he stalls at the door. The moment he’s been daydreaming about in his head for the last five hours is happening, but now that it’s here, he has zero idea what to do. Think, Jake, think!

"Congrats, you’re the first one here!" he blurts, mentally face-palming as soon as the words leave his mouth.

You giggle as you step inside, "Well, that would make sense, since you guys live here, and Grace is always late to everything. But thanks, Jakey, I’ll take it."

You turn to grin at the boy once more, and he's officially a goner. RIP.

"Oh—right," Jake stifles a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, shooting Jay and Heeseung a death glare as they're both silently roasting him with their eyes.

"Hi boys," you greet the others as you step into the living room, eyes immediately going to the table lined with snacks. "Wow, you guys really went all out!"

"Hiii Y/N," Heeseung and Jay say in perfect unison. You give them a raised brow, but shrug it off, too used to their weird behavior to question it.

"Sooo, which seat is mine?" You excitedly turn back to Jake, scanning the available spots.

"That one! Best seat in the house, guaranteed,” Jake practically beams, heart pitter-pattering as he's pointing to the cushion right next to his favorite spot.

"Oh really? What makes it the best?" you ask, plopping down and curling up instantly into the cushion, which makes Jake wonder how much more his heart can truly take before it spontaneously implodes on itself.

“It comes with your favorite blanket and easy access to the snacks. All your favorites, by the way,"

Jake slides into the seat beside you, keeping his voice cool.

He’s very proud of himself for that one. After all, he did scour three different stores near campus for watermelon Sour Patch and strawberry Pocky.

Jay butts in, grinning like the devil himself, "And the fact that you’re sitting next to Jake makes it extra special, right, Jakey?"

"Oh? Is that so?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence, although you've always known that the middle seat cushion has always been Jake's sacred seat on movie nights.

"He’s...joking. I can sit anywhere! I just, uh... think this seat happens to have the best angle of the TV." Jake’s heart is definitely about to combust.

Smooth, Jake. Real smooth.

You smile and place a hand on Jake’s knee, patting it lightly, "I trust you, Jake. I’m already enjoying this seat more than you know."

Jake swallows thickly, his body going rigid under your warm hand briefly against his skin. He thinks if he tries to say anything else, it'll come out sounding like a goose giving birth to fifty eggs.

From Jake’s other side, Heeseung chimes in, obliviously saving his hopeless roommate, "So, Y/N—horror or rom-com tonight?"

"Horror!" you gasp excitedly, eyes widening immediately, "I need those jump scares to make me feel something, you know?"

Jay breaks out in a coughing fit, nearly choking on his sudden laughter, while Jake shoots him yet another death glare.

“Y/N, I completely agree with you! Any objections anyone?” Jay announces almost animatedly, leaving you slightly confused but, once again, unfazed by your friend’s weirdness.

"Nope, none from me. Jake?" Heeseung raises a brow, also trying not to laugh himself.

Jake looks at you, seeing how excited you are, and yep—he’s screwed. More nightmares for him, it seems.

"Nope! I’m...totally down for horror."

You lightly clap your hands in excitement, making Jake realize that, yeah, the nightmares are probably worth it if it means seeing you this happy.

As you reach over for a snack, Jay mouths the word "SIMP" at Jake. Jake responds with an eye roll, but yeah, Jay’s not wrong.

~~~

The movie is only 20 minutes in when you frown looking at the coffee table, “How is it possible we’re out of snacks already?”

“I blame Grace for showing up late. I got hungry, okay?” Jay says, pointing at her. Grace responds by smacking the back of his head. “Ouch.”

Heeseung pauses the movie. “Vending machine run, anyone?”

“Jake and Y/N, go! Perfect candidates,” Jay suggests without skipping a beat, rubbing the back of his head from the provoked attack.

You raise an eyebrow at Jake, feeling your heart race a little faster. You're trying to play it cool but the thought of having a moment alone with him sends a buzz through you. It's the kind of opportunity you didn't realize you were hoping for—wait, were you? You have no idea. But what you do know is that being around Jake has felt different lately, in a good way. There's something about his presence that makes you want to be near him more and more. It's confusing, whatever this is, but all you can admit to yourself right now is, feelings or not, you want this time with him.

Jake opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t manage to get anything out before you quickly grab his hand and pull him toward the door.

“Okay! Be back in a few!” you call back to the group, trying to sound casual.

Inside, you’re freaking out just a little. Or a lot. Definitely a lot. The feeling of his hand in yours is warm, almost comforting, but there’s...something that you swear is there. It just feels right.

Jake follows behind you down the hall, and you can feel the warmth of his hand lingering even as you let go. You sneak a glance at him, and for some reason, he just seems... different. You've always found Jake cute. That's not news. But this—this is different, this isn't your typical ‘oh he's cute’ feeling...but you can't pinpoint what it is either. You shake the thought off.

"Soo…" you start, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. Your heart pounds a little louder, and you hope he can’t hear it over the sound of your sneakers hitting the hallway tiles. He’s just so cute standing there, slightly awkward, but making it work. How can someone look this adorable just existing?

“Sorry for dragging you out like that. I hope you don't mind,” you finally say as you both step into the elevator. You try to sound casual, but the slight bubble in your throat betrays you.

“Oh—no, not at all. I totally wanted to...go with you...” Jake says, and then he quickly adds, “I mean, you're practically saving me from all the jump scares.”

You laugh softly after a beat of silence, raising an eyebrow as the elevator doors open. “I thought you said you didn’t mind horror movies?”

“Well,” Jake hesitates, but then says quietly, “how could I say no when you were that excited to watch one?”

You blink, feeling your breath catch for a second. Did he just—? You look up at him, searching his expression, but all you see is that sweet smile of his, and your mind goes a little fuzzy, trying to piece together what that meant.

You roll the thought around for a second before giving him a playful nudge.

“Wow, who knew Jake Sim was such a people pleaser?” You’re teasing, but there’s an unfamiliar giddiness in your chest when he simply grins at you in response.

As you step into the vending machine room, a soft hum fills the space. You glance at Jake again—he's studying the snack options with a small, focused frown, and you can’t help but smile. Why is everything he does so...frustratedly cute?

Eventually, he sighs, giving up on his snack mission, and leans casually against the machine. Meanwhile, you're slightly bent down, continuing to mentally analyze the shelves, but you're hyper-aware of the fact that his eyes are definitely on you. And because you can feel the heat from his gaze, you swear you're turning ten shades redder by the second.

“Are you gonna help me pick out snacks, or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?” you ask, trying to sound casual, even though your brain's in overdrive. Your eyes stay glued to the snack shelves, anything to avoid the tension of locking eyes with him right now.

“Hmmm,” you can hear the teasing smirk in his voice, and it sends a spark through you. “Nah, you can handle the snacks. I’m perfectly okay where I am.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but your pulse quickens. Punching in the numbers for a random snack, you slide a dollar into the machine, stalling a little before you finally stand up and look up at him. “Oh, are you?”

You don’t expect him to be this close when you're fully standing up. The space between you shrinks, and suddenly, you can almost feel his breath on your skin. Your pulse thumps loudly in your ears as you try your best to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Still perfectly okay?” The words come out softer than you intended, almost a whisper. You’re holding his gaze now, neither of you wanting to break it. You swear you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn't for your loud heartbeat right now.

Jake swallows, and for a split second, you see him hesitate. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and that simple, unintentional move makes your breath hitch. You could lean in right now—close the gap between you—and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. Maybe you're hoping he's thinking the same thing.

But then Jake chuckles, breaking the silence with his soft laugh that makes your stomach flip for maybe the hundredth time tonight.

“I, uh… yeah, I’m still okay,” he says, though his voice exposes just how not okay he actually is. You see the faintest blush creeping up his neck, and it’s endearing—so much so that you almost forget you were nervous too.

You swear you can sense him shuffle just a little bit closer and you're subconsciously wanting to lean into the feeling...

Plop!

The sound of the bag of chips landing at the bottom of the machine breaks whatever moment you thought was forming between you two.

You blink. Jake blinks.

For a split second, the two of you just stare at each other, wide-eyed, before Jake is the first to snap out of it. His hand quickly goes to rake through his hair, his eyes darting anywhere but yours, and the flush on his cheeks is unmistakable. It almost matches the heat you feel creeping up your own face.

You can’t tell if you’re more relieved or disappointed that the moment broke so abruptly. You can't tell anything at this point, if you're being honest.

“Uh—um,” you clear your throat, reaching for the snack like it’s the most important thing in the world. “I hope you like sour cream and onion chips!”

You hold up the bag with a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the tension in the air. Jake just gives you this soft, searching smile, like he's trying to figure out what just happened—or maybe he's wondering if you felt it too.

The way his eyes are so gentle, so open, makes your stomach flutter, and because you think you might actually crumble if he keeps looking at you like that for a second longer, you break eye contact to immediately turn back to the vending machine, hoping the heat in your face isn’t as obvious as it feels.

“What other snacks do you think they’d like?” you hum, trying to sound casual, but inside you’re mentally screaming at yourself for not just going for it earlier. Great going, Y/N.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Jake letting out a small exhale before he chuckles softly.

“Honestly, as long as it has sugar, I think everyone will be happy,” he says, and you instantly feel yourself relax, his lightheartedness simmering the tension a bit.

"Hmmm... sour cream and onion and sugar. Got it," you punch in a few more random numbers into the machine, feeding it your remaining cash. "Looks like we’ve hit all the major food groups for today. Nutritionists everywhere will be so proud."

The air between you both feels a lot lighter now, but there’s still a lingering warmth under your skin—a little too flustered to fully shake it off. You wonder if Jake is feeling the same, but if he is, he seems to be handling it way better than you are. Of course he would be. Cool, calm, collected Jake. (Also ironic, isn't it?)

"Honestly, we should just unplug the machine and rob the whole thing," Jake playfully adds as you grab the last snack from the bottom slot. "You already know Jay’s gonna inhale all of these the second we walk back in."

"You’re so right. I say next time, Operation 'Y/N and Jake versus the vending machine' needs to happen,” you laugh, feeling a little more like yourself again.

"Oh, so what I'm hearing is there’s gonna be a next time?" Jake raises an eyebrow as the two of you start heading back to the elevator. "Count me in."

You instinctively roll your eyes at how annoyingly smooth he was being, but you can't help the giddy smile growing on your face as a result of his words. As you two stand side by side to each other in the elevator, there's a new quiet that's settled and it's...nice. It's not awkward, just...heavier than before. As if there's a shared secret between you—something you both know but aren't ready to speak aloud just yet. But it's there—just for the two of you to mutually share in comfortable silence.

Before you reach the apartment, you feel a light tug on your sleeve, and you stop. Looking up, you see Jake holding onto the corner of your sleeve, his expression...soft. Like, too soft. And for a moment, you swear time just stops. If he was on a mission to officially kill you, he can officially say mission accomplished.

"Y/N, I—" he hesitates, his voice quieter again, like he's about to say something serious, and your heart picks up speed again. But then he stops himself, his grip loosening.

You blink up at him, wanting him to continue so bad, but also unsure if you're ready of what might come next.

"Mmm?" you hum, almost afraid to say anything louder.

Jake bites the inside of his cheek, looking like he’s at war with himself. He finally lets go of your sleeve and gives you a small smile.

"Sorry, it’s...nothing. Just... you look really nice tonight."

The sudden, sincere comment catches you off guard, and you feel that familiar warmth rush to your face once again.

"Oh," you manage to squeak out, because apparently, that's all you're capable of in the moment as your heart is spiraling. "Thanks, Jakey."

You smile and look down at where his hand just was on your sleeve, and you almost want to reach out and grab his hand again, just to see if it'll feel as warm as it did earlier. Why do you want to reach out so bad?

Jake's eyes flicker to yours, and for a split second, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable—but then, just as quickly, his gaze shifts to the apartment door behind you, and he clears his throat.

"Yeah," he says almost breathlessly. "Sorry, we should...probably go in. They probably think we got lost or something at this point."

You finally let out a breath and snap yourself back in reality from staring at him.

"Right, yeah. Wouldn’t want them sending a search party," you joke, though your brain’s still fuzzy from the million thoughts and feelings swirling around.

As Jake unlocks the door, you can’t help but wonder if whatever just happened between you two was all in your head. But it can’t be, right? That feeling had to be real... Right?

You step inside, and your friends’ commentary barely registers. It’s all background noise compared to the whirlpool of emotions screaming inside you. You sit back down on the couch, and so does Jake, in his seat next to yours.

And while the movie plays for the rest of the night, you can't seem to focus on anything but the memory of everything that's happened tonight. That and the feeling of Jake’s arm resting right up against yours.

You’re doomed.

Jake has never been more confused in his entire life, like, ever. The past few days for him have been more confusing than that one semester he took Postmodern Interpretations of the Emoji Language and actually had to write a ten-page paper on the laughing emoji (don't judge, he had to fulfill his last two elective credits somehow).

Life has been an absolute whirlwind for Jake—mainly due to the fact that his emotions have been spinning out of control. And to top it off, today’s the long-awaited rematch day.

Normally, Jake would be a complete wreck by now, bouncing his leg under the table or fidgeting with his phone, but today? Today, he's nervous in a completely different way. The kind of nerves you get when you already know what's about to happen… but after everything that’s gone down lately, he thinks there’s something more between the two of you. And it has nothing to do with Heeseung’s so-called love algorithm.

At least, he hopes there’s something between you two. Unless—oh god—he’s been totally delusional this whole time, and you’ve just been nice, and Jake’s fully lost it. Perfect, that’s exactly what he needs right now, on top of everything else. But the scariest part? In just a few moments, when the app refreshes and pairs you two together, Jake's going to have to face whatever's been simmering between you both—whether he's ready for it or not.

And as if Heeseung could read his trembling thoughts, he breaks the silence at the lunch table, "Are you guys ready?"

Grace and Jay's heads are nodding so fast for Heeseung to just push the 'send' button already, Jake thinks they look like bobbleheads. But when he glances over at you, you don't seem nearly as eager. Which is...weird. Considering how only a couple days ago, you were fired up about the rematch. But now? You look almost...conflicted?

Jake's eyes linger on you for a second longer, taking in the way you're biting your lip, clearly deep in your thoughts. He can't help but find the sight of you zoned out like that so ridiculously adorable.

"Y/N?" He nudges you gently. "You good?"

"Huh?" You blink, snapping out of your daydream. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, Just...thinking, I guess."

"You'll be fine, Y/N!" Grace chimes in, ever the optimist. "I bet you're gonna love whoever your match is!"

Well, gee, Jake really, really, hopes so. If not, the last few days will have been a very confusing rollercoaster of emotional whiplash.

"Right," Jake agrees, trying to act normal, though his voice sounds a little too tight. "Everything's going to be fine." Please, please let everything be fine.

Jake can tell you're hesitant about something—you open your mouth like you want to say something, but then just as quickly, you press your lips closed again. If Jake didn't think you were the most precious being in the world, you could say you look like a fish out of water right now.

"Hypothetically speaking," you slowly speak up, eyes flicking up to your friends. "What would you do if...let's say you started catching feelings for someone...but then the app might pair you with someone else?" You pause, swallowing hard.

"Hypothetically…of course.”

Grace raises an eyebrow. Heeseung freezes mid-bite. And Jake? Well, let's just say his heart is already running a mile into the marathon. Hypothetical? Feelings? That has to be about him, right? What were the chances?

Jay lets out a snort. "Lucky for you, in a hypothetical situation, you do absolutely nothing. Cause it's...you know, hypothetical."

"Yeah, you're right. Forget I said anything." You wave your hand, brushing it off, but Jake notices a blush growing across your face. "Okay, Hee! Let's get this over with."

Jake's mind is spinning. What could you have possibly meant by that? That had to be about him...right? Because that is all he's ever wanted, all he's been pining for. But at the same time...it's too good to be true, so Jake refuses to believe it. He can't get his hopes up—not yet.

"Okayyyy," Heeseung's still lifting an eyebrow at your odd behavior before he clears his throat, “everyone ready?”

Jay and Grace drum the table in anticipation, and Jake? Jake's pretty sure he's going to throw up.

Heeseung taps his screen, and the table collectively holds its breath. Then, all at once, everyone’s phones light up.

Grace and Jay scramble to grab their phones first and Jake thinks he's actually developing an incurable case of heart failure.

“WHAT?” Grace shrieks before she whips around to Jay with wide eyes. “I got you, AGAIN!”

Jay, unbothered, raises his hands defensively, “What can I say? It’s science, Gracey-poo.”

"Sure. Science," Grace rolls her eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't get stuck. "Like how you scientifically forgot how to text me back after last night's study sesh?"

Before Grace can verbally throttle Jay, Jake's entire focus narrows in on you, and how your phone is still face down on the table. You haven't even touched it.

The suspense is killing him, especially knowing his name is going to be on your screen. And if it's not? Well, then the end. End of fanfic. Cue the end credits.

You, on the other hand, are staring intently at the Grace v. Jay debacle, as if focusing hard enough on other people's life issues will prevent the existential crisis you're about to have. Honestly, your phone could've exploded into a million pieces next to you and you'd still be pretending to care more about anything else.

Because honestly? You couldn't care less about whoever Heeseung's magical powers paired you with—you're more focused on whatever's been going on between you and Jake. Or at least, you hope, there’s something happening between you and Jake. Unless, oh god, he's just being nice, and you've fully lost it. Please, please don't tell me I've lost it.

"Y/N! Jake! Who did you guys get?" Grace turns towards the two of you, breaking the both of you out of your respective spirals.

"Right, yeah. Um—okay. Let's see,” you let out a shaky laugh as your hands fidget in your lap before they finally reach for your phone, as Jake does the same next to you.

You take a breath, click on the daunting email notification on your screen, and finally look down.

You blink down at your phone. You squeeze your eyes to make sure they’re not deceiving you.

Match: Sim Jae-yun

Your brain is absolutely jumbled beyond saving, you seem to have forgotten how to breathe, and your stomach feels like it was just turned inside out. You don’t know what’s happening, is this what dying feels like?

You blink once. Twice. And maybe a third time just to make extra, extra sure.

Suddenly, the whole room seems to slow down, like you're watching a replay of your life recently at 0.5 speed. All the moments between you and Jake flash by: the vending machine run, the shared glances, the oddly adorable way he got flustered over you calling him 'Jakey.' But you don't have time to fully process everything because the fact is:

You’ve just been matched with Jake. Jake.

You finally look up, heart racing, and try to see if Jake's opened his notification yet, but his face is still too normal at whatever he's looking at on his phone. Or, more accurately, he's pretending to be normal, because the tips of his ears are a little too red for someone who's ‘chill’ (he's most definitely not chill, right now).

"So, uh..." Jake's voice finally comes out quiet, his gaze slowly meeting yours, and it makes you feel like you two are the only ones at this table. Scratch that, in this world. "Did you open yours?"

"Yeah,” you nod, trying to act nonchalant, “I did.”

Jake lets out a soft chuckle, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Same here."

The way he says it—soft, like he’s addressing the shared secret between the two of you—makes the air feel warmer. Or maybe it’s just you overheating. Get it together, Y/N.

Grace, across the table, catches the tension happening in front of her, her eyes darting back and forth like she's watching a slow motion scene of a k-drama unfold in real time. Then—

“Oh my god,” she gasps loudly, before violently clapping a hand over her mouth.

Her eyes fill with excitement and just as quickly, she jumps up, grabbing both Jay and Heeseung by the back of their shirts and yanking them to their feet.

“We’re getting boba! Be right back!”

Heeseung’s brows scrunch. “Wait, what? I don’t even wan—“

“Too bad! We’re going.”

And just like that, you’re left alone with Jake next to you—and his flaming red ears that could probably power a small country.

“So…” Jake clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he finally turns to look at you.

“So..,” you softly say, your fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table, hoping he'll say something, anything.

"So," Jake repeats for the third time, followed by an awkward chuckle. “Uh...what do we...do now?”

You blink.

“Do now?”

Jake’s eyes dart to yours, and for a second, you think he’s about to up and bolt from the table.

“I mean, like, uh...we’re…well, I don’t know, is there something to do now..? Or not do? That’s okay too! I have no idea. I’m just—wow. Sorry.”

You smile endearingly at him before breaking out into laughter as your heart does a little Olympics routine. How were you this oblivious before?

“Jake,” you say between laughs, catching your breath as you instantly feel eased by him. "It's okay. I've been thinking...I—"

You mentally high-five yourself and give yourself a pep talk for what you're about to say. Please, for the love of all things holy, don't let me be wrong about this.

"I can't stop thinking about you," you say, voice quiet, but steady. "It's like you've taken over my brain, Jake, and it's driving me crazy. And I don't know—I don't know if it's just me or if everything I've been sensing between us is real, but I think my brain might explode if I didn't tell you. Plus, I was terrified the Matchmatic would pair you with someone else and I had lost my chance."

You finally feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders, but when you look at Jake? He's gone. Eyes wide, looking like a malfunctioning robot. His mouth opens and closes, and you're 110% sure he's about to glitch out of existence right in front of you.

"Wow."

You blink. Wow? That's it? Is this a good wow or a wow-she's-crazy wow? Naturally, you think it’s the latter, so you mentally prepare yourself to fake your death and move to Norway.

But before you're about to flee the scene and start your new life as a mountain goat herder, Jake's eyes lock on yours, filled with the softest, most fond expression you've ever seen.

"Y/N, I like you. A lot. And I have for, like...forever, I think." His voice is quiet, but his shoulders are more relaxed the more he looks at you. "I didn't think you'd feel the same way. You know, because we're friends and all."

Your smile grows impossibly wide as you nudge his shoulder playfully with yours.

"Well, surprise surprise, you're wrong."

Jake chuckles, now fully facing you, his face flushed from wearing his heart on his sleeve. But for you? He thinks he’s about to stand on this lunch table and scream his feelings into a megaphone.

"So...maybe we could try out this 'more-than-friends' thing?" you suggest, finding it hard to form a coherent sentence without sounding like a fifth grader. But Jake? Jake thinks seeing you stumbling your words over talking to him, for once, is the cutest sight ever. "I mean, unless you don't want—"

"Oh, I definitely want to!" Jake practically launches himself forward, his smile so big you wish you could keep a mental image of it forever.

You laugh, suddenly feeling lighter. "Okay, then. Let's do it."

"Here's to doing it!" Jake echoes, his voice warm and soft as he moves closer to you, finding it hard to resist just simply being in your close presence. Then, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, "I mean, not like do it, do it—wait, but not saying that I wouldn't—oh god—"

Your giggles are uncontrollable once again as you watch Jake's face turn into the deepest shade of red you've ever seen. Without even thinking, you reach for his hand, seeking stability, as if he's a magnet drawing you in and you can't resist the pull of his warmth.

You finally take a breath, calming yourself down as Jake's eyes flicker down to your intertwined fingers, and his smile softens into something that makes your heart so full.

For a moment, neither of you say anything, just letting the weight of everything finally settle, your hand resting under his in between you two. Then, Jake's thumb brushes softly over your knuckles, and he looks up at you with that newfound confidence that somehow makes him even more irresistible.

“So…now what?” Jake's corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as he subconsciously leans in closer than before, and this time, you know there's no way you're backing out.

A playful smile tugs at your lips as your eyes flicker between his soft brown eyes and his mouth.

“Well, I mean…you still owe me from the vending machine.”

Jake freezes. He blinks in confusion, and you're pretty sure you can hear the whirrr of his brain rebooting right in front of you.

“Oh, you mean for the snacks? How much do I owe you? I can Venmo you, or, uh, buy you more snacks?” he stammers, completely caught off guard by your random comment, especially when he thought this was the moment. But, you know...priorities, I guess?

Now you freeze, blinking at him before you let out a giggle that surprises even you. Seriously? You reach out and gently cup his adorably confused face.

"Jake, you lovable dork," you say, shaking your head, unable to stop the giggles bubbling up. "Not what I meant."

Jake doesn't even get the chance to respond (and honestly, he doesn't know if he could even form words right now, not with you so close, holding his face so gently). Before either of you even know it, you lean up and close the gap, your lips softly pressing against his.

Jake freezes for a heartbeat. Or maybe two. He's unsure if he's even still breathing (is oxygen even necessary at a time like this?). But then, instinctively, his hands find their way to your waist, and he's gently pulling you closer on the table bench, as if he's afraid to let you slip away. He's pretty sure the world hit pause, and all that existed was the softness of your touch, the sweet warmth of your lips, and the faint vanilla scent of your shampoo that's doing a great job at scrambling his brain right now.

He tries to stay cool—he really does—but his lips curve into a smile against yours, and he can't help but think, well, this is it. This is peak life. I've peaked. This? This just knocked anything else right off the leaderboard of his best life moments.

It’s short. It’s sweet. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed and everything Jake’s been dreaming about.

He's savoring every little moment, every little movement guided by you, feeling like he's on cloud infinity, before you pull away, a soft pink blush growing on your entire face.

You lean your head back slightly to look at him, the warmth of the moment still lingering between you. Jake’s eyes are wide, his cheeks flushed, but there’s a soft, almost dazed smile playing on his lips, like he’s still processing.

"W-wow," he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper as he's trying to process if he's actually alive or in a sugar-induced dream.

"Yeah," you breathe out, smiling as you gently run your thumb across his cheek, enjoying the way his face heats up even more under your touch.

"So...," you say playfully after a beat of silence, leaning in so close that you're sure you’d be kissing him all over again if it wasn’t for your self-control, "do I still get my snacks?"

Jake laughs, officially breaking the heavy tension. He drops his head on your shoulder, completely and utterly overwhelmed by the pure sensation of you, but in the best way possible.

"You can have all the snacks you want," he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice muffled but filled with so much affection that you think you might actually burst with joy. "Take my whole bank account while you're at it. Take whatever you want."

You can't help but laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer to you.

"You're ridiculous, Sim Jae-yun."

"I know," he admits, voice still muffled into your shoulder. "But I'm your ridiculous, algorithm-proven match, right?"

Jake feels your laughter from under him. "Mmmhmm, Jakey. 100% mine. Algorithm or not."

You feel his smile grow against your shoulder as your arms squeeze him tighter. The perfect moment settles and you think you could die happy right now. For the first time in days, everything feels right.

But then, Jake pulls back just slightly, still under your hold, his eyebrows furrowing like he's about to say something very important.

"Wait—" he raises his eyebrows at you.

"—does this mean you never saw me as a Roomba?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

epilogue:

“If your next words are that you’re Spider-Man,” you say, your head nestled in Jake’s lap as you absentmindedly watch the TV, “then congratulations, you’re officially the world’s coolest boyfriend ever.”

Jake lets out a soft laugh, his fingers gently playing with the ends of your hair. It’s movie night—a rare, private one this time, much to your friends' annoyance. No horror films tonight (thank god, because Jake still hasn’t fully recovered from the last one), but honestly, the movie has long been forgotten. The moment Jake blurted out that he had something ‘dire’ to tell you, all plotlines flew out the window.

You told him, unless it's about a sudden worldwide ramen shortage or that he's secretly a bug-themed superhero, then it could definitely wait until after the movie.

But Jake had shook his head, claiming no, it’s like…life-changing important.

Which is why you’re here now, his lap a perfect pillow, waiting for him to speak. He looks down at you, and you finally catch the serious gleam in his eyes. Oh wait, he’s actually being serious.

“No, unfortunately, I don’t have Spidey senses,” he laughs nervously, gently nudging you up until you’re sitting face to face on the couch. “I do think I’ve developed Y/N senses, though.”

“Oh? What are your Y/N senses telling you now?” you raise an eyebrow, smirking.

“Um… that you hopefully won’t be mad at me?” Jake’s voice wavers slightly, hands fiddling with yours, and your playful smile fades just a little, confusion and worry taking over your face.

“Oh. Okay. What’s up?” You straighten up, fully turning toward him, sitting crisscrossed.

Jake hesitates, looking down at your intertwined fingers, and takes a deep breath.

“Well, remember the Matchmatic thingy from a few months ago?”

“Mmhm,” you hum, studying his expression.

“So… um…I may or may not have done something…to make sure you got matched with me,” Jake’s eyes immediately squeeze shut, bracing for impact, like he’s expecting an explosion, or worse, your wrath.

There’s a beat of silence. And then—

You burst into laughter. Full-on, head-thrown-back, shoulders-shaking laughter. You drop your head back into Jake’s lap, your cackles muffled by his hoodie, while Jake sits frozen, staring at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“I—uh… I’m confused?” He stares down at you, unsure if you’re about to pull a full-on Joker moment.

“Jakey,” you coo, your laughter softening into giggles as you sit back up and cradle his cheeks. “You are so adorable. You really thought I didn’t know?”

Jake blinks.

“Wait, what?”

“I knew.” You grin, watching as his brain seems to stall for a second.

“…You knew?”

You nod, leaning back on your hands.

“Yeah, I knew. I mean, I kind of just put two and two together after we started dating. And Hee? He's a genius, no way he messed up the first way around,” you roll your eyes playfully.

“But the thing is, Jake… the algorithm didn’t make me like you. I already did.” You reach forward and tap his forehead lightly, preciously smiling at how utterly stunned he looks.

“You—wait, what?” Jake’s mind is catching up at the speed of 3G internet.

“Yeah,” you laugh again, softer this time.

He’s still staring at you, wide-eyed, like you just casually told him you're moving to the moon tomorrow. Honestly, he looks like his entire world just got flipped upside down, but in the best way possible, of course.

“So…you’re not mad?”

"Nope."

"And you still wanna be with me?"

"Yup."

"And you're not just saying that because I buy you all the snacks you want?"

"Nope."

"Oh thank god," Jake exhales dramatically, hand flying to his chest like he barely survived a life-threatening situation. He looks at you with the softest, dopiest smile that makes you feel like you're staring at a puppy in a rom-com. "Because you are, hands down, the most perfect person for me. Like, ever."

"You are so cute, Jakey," you scrunch your nose at him before leaning up to plant a quick kiss on his blushing cheek, which only makes his ears turn an even deeper shade of red.

But before you can pull away, he's already frowning playfully.

"Wait, wait—one more question."

"Mhm?"

"Cute as in 'kiss' cute or 'puppy' cute?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the end! i hope you guys liked it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

tagged: @climbingmandevillas @byeoltual @junhuiste-ficrec

cue all the tags now...

399 notes · View notes

pacifierbby · 2 days

Text

★ *. * · 𝑱𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑺

𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫? you could write something about jealous Lando pleasee. Honestly, I don’t really know what it could be, fluff, smut, or angst. I’ll leave it up to you ♡

୨ৎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 LN4 x reader

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 none

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓

-𝑵𝑨𝑽𝑰-

He could never understand why you dated so many dickhead men all of them lead to you ringing him up in the middle of the night crying for him to pick you up because yet another fight has occurred leading him to console you over a bottle of wine and some much-needed cuddles he just wished that you would open up and see everything he did for you was because he fell madly in love with you he was just coward to even tell you scared to even ruin the friendship between the both of you making him move into self-pity when you go crying to him wishing he would tell you how much he loves you. The day you told him that you've got another boy on the block that you think it's going really well and that maybe he's the one and not one toxic trait coming from him did massively hurt lando he just wished for your sake that that was true and that you found the one.

You and Lando chilling in his Monaco apartment the sun shining through the big bay windows giving you a soft glow "Hey Lando what are you doing tonight?" looking over to you "Uh nothing tonight was thinking off chilling in for the night" shrugging "well me and ben thinking about going to that new club if you want to join" making his smile instantly fade quickly smiling so you didn't notice "uh yeah sure" making sure that you didn't notice which you were more engrossed in your phone than him at the moment having this small feeling that something was going to go wrong tonight but he keep that between himself knowing it will probably cause a fight between you both the last time he announced his thoughts about your ex you told him that everything was wrong and stopped being an arsehole and that he was using you to get to him was completely wrong when later down the line he was right and you apologised massively for that and ever since then he watched you figure your ex-boyfriends out yourself.

Lando always knew how you felt after that and you told him that a couple of guys before that did try and use you to see him and ever since then he promised himself and to you that he would never bring the conversation up again knowing how much that it affected you which you were happy that he listened to you and your feelings Lando didn't know that deep down that you wished he was something more to you but just like him you was a coward to even tell him and that all these guys are just to push your feelings away from him and with Ben that worked greatly. As much as it hurt him it hurt you seeing him with so many women daily making you separate from him for a little which he never understood why but it was easier for you like that.

"Ben said that's great and we are going at 8 o clock is that okay for you?" looking away from your phone towards him "Uh yeah will it be fine for me to invite Margarida? Making your heart stop a little "Yeah yeah that's fine" getting up from the comfort of the couch "Well I'm going to go back to my apartment to get ready I think Ben is going to pick me up so I'll meet you at the club?" making Lando nod walking over giving you a side hug walking you over to his door.

He knew he shouldn't have asked if his recent hook-up could come but he really needed to get you and Ben out of his mind for the rest of the night only he could think that Margarida would be a better option other than alcohol quickly sending her a text. He never told you that she was a hook-up he just wanted you to automatically think that they were together hoping for some kind of reaction from you which you didn't really show. he doesn't know how long he can put this charade up for...

8 o'clock came quicker than he hoped the sun slowly moving down behind the clouds sighing and looking at himself in the mirror "Hey babe do you like my dress" rolling his eyes " Marg haven't I told you to stop calling me that?!" he couldn't really stand her voice at the moment "but yes yes I do now come on they're here" not even give her another chance to change the godamn dress for the seventeenth time that hour.

The new club was lively tonight well obviously they are all here for the same reason you are. Looking towards Lando I saw that he was more interested in the glass than whatever Marg was actually saying to him which was odd but you cant deny Lando had picked a really gorgeous girl slim, blonde hair a model all-check box list that you couldn't really check for him yes you was jealous of Marg knowing that she has something that you don't which you truly wished you had "hey Lando shall we get the drinks?" ben spoke interrupting your thoughts which honestly you was actually thankful for but looking at lando it's like his thoughts been interrupted to "uh yeah sure"

Lando looks over towards you every chance he can get to make sure you are okay "So you and Marg eh?" Ben spoke making his eyes leave you "' we're really not together she's just one of my huck-ups" taking a sip of his beer while waiting for the other orders "Oh well if we're on that category" Ben paused "I'm only with her because of you" making Lando look back at him furious his hands tightly around his glass "What!" Lando automatically wants to meet his hands with his face but he knows he cant "Well you're cool and she's your friend so she is my better option" he laughed a little not really observing that Lando was mad "Are you joking Ben that women has everything that you need why!" "well the sex is another good thing" that was it for Lando his fist connecting to his face.

However, y/n saw everything running towards the boys "What the hell Lando!" dragging Ben next to her and looking at his face "Tell her what you told me tell her!" Y/N looked confused towards Ben but only he smirked: "I don't know what you're talking about?" Lando's hands fisted once again "this dickhead told me he only wants you Y/N because you are my friend and I quote that sex is another good thing" She didn't want to hear more "Please tell me he's joking Ben please" but ben just shrugged and nodded "then Lando had the right to hit you and hear I am stupid defending your dumb arse" she didn't want to see her cry that just shows that he won Lando grabbed her hand walking her out off the club

"I'm so sorry Lando I'm so sorry to defend him over you I don't know what to say" the tears slowly coming out Landos hand automatically wiping them away "Listen love I totally understand you didn't know you didn't listen you wasn't their I get it" out off all the words Lando know what to do or say he knew how to console you and everyday you was grateful for it "shall we go home" you just nodded wanting to get away from this club.

Both Lando and Y/n are wide awake in two separate rooms both of them thinking the same things after tonight y/n truly knew her forever was and it was under her nose forever and honestly it only took for tonight to find out the jealous thoughts when he had women surrounding him wanting to just grab him and just be hers she felt silly letting all these men degrade her when there was one man who praised her made her feel loved and praised the floor she walked on. For Lando, he thought the same the constant jealousy for all the men that she dated.

y/n walked into Lando's room she just about saw his shadow wrapped around the quilt in his bed "Are you awake" she whispered his figure slowly waking up "Come here" his voice responded lifting his quilt covers inviting in quickly jumping in "Thank you for tonight Lando I couldn't thank you enough" Lando grabbed her hand she was thankful that it was dark but the blush she had on her face will probably make her like a tomato "can I be honest with you?" Y/N nodded "Uh Y/N I like you no I love you. you honestly don't understand everything I feel when you tell me you got another boy but after tonight everything I think is because I fell for you a while ago and I'm so sorry that it took me this long to tell you" Y/N leaned over turning the bedside lamp on looking towards Lando's eyes "honestly Lando it took me tonight when in bed with my own little mind to finally understand what I'm actually feeling is that I'm falling in love with you as well I just want to say thank you for making me feel the way I should feel from a man" Lando leant over wiping the tear away from her cheek the one she didn't notice that even left her "can I kiss you" Y/N nodded both of them connected they're lips and after that she knew that Lando was forever.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ © 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘣𝘺

239 notes · View notes

drowning-in-paragraphs · 2 days

Note

Hey i really loved ur imagine of Jude x drunk gf and i was wondering if you would do a part 2 of Jude taking care of the reader when she’s hungover the morning after 🎐🤍

a/n: Your wish is my command! This is my first request, thank you so much! I hope you like it.

PART 1: LATE NIGHT, SOFT HANDS

EARLY MORNING, SWEET KISSES

• jude bellingham x gf!reader

• warnings: (English is not my first language!)

• summary: Jude Bellingham cares for his hungover girlfriend the next morning, while they share playful banter about her drunken antics, including her insistence that he’s “no fun.” Grateful for his help, she promises not to drink like that again. Obviously he doesn’t believe her.

The first light of dawn crept through the blinds of Jude’s bedroom, casting a faint, golden hue over the soft bedding. He was wide awake, his back resting against the headboard as he quietly scrolled through his phone, glancing occasionally at the girl beside him. His girlfriend, half-buried under the duvet, lay curled up like a cat, one arm lazily draped over his waist.

Jude sighed softly, running a hand through her tousled hair, a mix of amusement and adoration on his face. Last night had been a whirlwind—well, for her, mostly. Now, as the sun slowly rose, he glanced at the cup of warm tea and the aspirin on the nightstand. He knew she’d need it when she woke up. She always did after nights like this.

A soft groan escaped from under the covers. Jude looked down, watching as she shifted slightly, squinting against the sunlight. Her hand reached out blindly, patting his leg beside her before her eyes finally fluttered open.

"Morning," he said quietly, his voice gentle.

She stirred slightly, groaning softly as her hands moved up to rub her eyes. Jude couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. She was always cute in the mornings, but hungover mornings were a whole different story.

His girlfriend winced and groaned again. "Too loud..." she whispered, her voice hoarse, cracking with the fatigue of the night before.

"That bad, huh?" Jude teased, his tone light. He pulled the blanket up a little higher over her, his fingers brushing against her bare legs beneath his hoodie. It looked good on her, hanging off her shoulders like it did, she was practically drowning in his clothes, but there was something endearing about it. She just snuggled deeper into it, grateful for the comfort.

Her brow furrowed as if the light was too much to handle. "Why do I feel like death?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jude chuckled—a little too loudly, much to her dismay—and gestured toward the nightstand where the cup of tea sat. “Tea. No better cure for a hangover, or so my mum says.”

She took the cup gratefully, wrapping both hands around it as if it were her lifeline. "Thank you. You're the best."

“I’m the what?” He teased.

“Juuude…,” she groaned and took another sip.

For a second, she didn't move, just lay there, cocooned in warmth and regret of her yesterday’s decisions. But then, after a moment, she blinked, taking in her surroundings. The bed, the clothes she was wearing—his hoodie, his sweats—and her makeup-free face. It clicked in her mind, and she glanced up at Jude, a soft smile pulling at her lips.

"You did this, didn't you?" she asked, her voice still quiet, but there was gratitude there.

Jude's smile widened as he turned off his phone to look at her. “I did what I could. I honestly forgot how elusive you are when you're tipsy...” He paused, raising an eyebrow at her. “Figured you wouldn’t want to wake up in that tight dress with your makeup all smudged.”

She wanted to kiss him and throw herself into his arms, but her body was half asleep and half aching. “You're an angel,” she mumbled, slowly trying to sit up straighter. She winced at the movement, one hand coming up to cradle her pounding head. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“Well, you did say you were ‘not plastered’ when you got home,” Jude teased again, gesturing for her to take another sip of the tea.

She shot him a half-hearted glare, but the corner of her lips twitched upward. "Shut up. I didn’t think I was that bad."

"You couldn’t even walk straight," he reminded her, raising an eyebrow.

She groaned again, burying her face in her hands. "God, I’m never drinking again."

Jude couldn’t help but laugh, sitting down beside her. "We’ll see about that."

She chuckled softly, trying not to choke, and playfully stuck out her tongue at him.

“I didn’t give you a lot of trouble, right?” Biting her bottom lip softly, she looked at him, hoping not to feel so embarrassed and that her loving—not at all teasing—boyfriend would lie to her a little. She asked it casually, almost like she was sure the answer would be 'no'. Nevertheless Jude had that mischievous glint in his eye, the one that told her she wasn’t getting off that easily.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice teasingly. "Trouble? You? Oh no, nothing too bad. Except for the part where you insisted you wanted to cook."

Her hand shot out from under the pillow, pushing him lightly as she groaned again. "I did not."

"Oh, you did," he continued, his grin widening as he leaned back putting both hands behind his head. "You were all over the place in the kitchen. And let’s not forget that you don’t even know how to cook sober."

She pulled the pillow down just enough to peek at him, her cheeks flushing as she recalled blurry flashes of her actions. “Okay, maybe I tried to cook. That doesn’t sound like trouble though."

"Oh, it was trouble," Jude teased. “I had to practically wrestle a pan out of your hand. You kept telling me you knew what you were doing.”

Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh God."

He nodded solemnly, barely suppressing a laugh. "Swear.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re not funny.”

“Oh, I’m hilarious,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

She shook her head, fighting the smile that was growing. “I’m not even gonna entertain that.”

“Sure you will.” He crossed his arms. “And you told me that last night…”

She pressed her lips, feeling a pang of guilt despite the teasing. He didn’t seem to care, but still, the words lingered in her chest. “Fine. I’m never calling you not funny again, okay? Pinky promise.”

Jude’s grin softened, and he held out his pinky. “Deal,” he said, hooking his pinky with hers.

For a second, they stayed like that, just holding the promise between them. She tried not to laugh at how serious they both looked in that moment. It was ridiculous—making a pinky promise over something so silly—but it felt sweet in its own way.

Jude finally broke the silence, leaning down to kiss the top of her head gently. “You’re something else, you know that?” he whispered, his voice warm and affectionate.

She leaned into him, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as he cupped her cheek, his thumb gently brushing across her skin. Her headache seemed to ease slightly at the comfort of his touch, the warmth of his presence.

The moment settled into a comfortable quiet, and she lay back down, her head resting against his leg now, looking up at him.

"Thanks, though. For taking care of me." Her voice was softer, sincere, as she closed her eyes briefly, still fighting the lingering effects of last night. "I don’t deserve you."

Jude’s smile softened, and he leaned down to press another kiss to the top of her head. "You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always take care of you, even when you try to burn down my kitchen."

She laughed, though it was a quiet, tired laugh, and when she opened her eyes again, he was still looking down at her with that same fond expression. His hand came up, his thumb grazing her cheek, tracing the curve of her face with such tenderness that it made her heart swell.

"How do you do that?" she murmured, her voice sleepy again but full of affection.

"Do what?"

"Make everything feel better, even when I feel like absolute garbage."

He shrugged lightly. "Just part of the job, I guess."

She smiled, reaching up to cover his hand with hers, squeezing it gently. "You’re good at it."

"And you’re worth it.”

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #jb5 #jude bellingham comfort #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham imagines #hey jude #jude bellingham fluff

227 notes · View notes

tan1shere · 2 days

Text

I'm Sorry

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: saw this video on tiktok of this girl accidentally breaking a gift her bf got her and her being so apologetic, and I can just imagine how bill would be with you:(

Summary: Billie reassures you when you accidentally break her gift.

Warnings: none just fluff ! Kinda angst tho ??

Masterlist

It was time again. Your birthday, just another year of getting older. You were currently laying in bed, half asleep as the sun was shining through the curtains. You then feel hands on your shoulders. "Babyy, its your birthday!" Billie sings as she says that. You cover your face. "Does it have to be." She plops down on the bed. "Oh come on, it's not every day you're 21!" You open an eye to see she had a few gifts. Your other eye opens as you look at her. "Bubba, I thought we agreed on two at most." She puts her finger up to your lips. "I couldn't help myself."

You sigh with a bright smile, sitting up to prepare for her little gifts. She hands you the first one, some clothes you had been wanting. Next up, some skin care. She was always so thoughtful of the things you needed. And lastly, maybe your favorite. You open up the wrapping revealing a glass red rose. You marvel at it. "I know how much you love roses and how upset you get when they start to die, but this way you can have it all the time." She smiles at you. Your eyes meet hers as you almost have tears in them. You leap over to hug her tightly.

"Thank you baby! I love it so so much." She smiles. "Knew you would." Her hands grab your face, thumb swiping over your cheek. "Happy birthday angel." She leans in to kiss you softly, so glad you like the gifts. "Some of them came from your mother. I put them in a vase already for you." You then kiss her cheek, placing the glass rose down on the bedside table. "Thank you babe, I'll go smell them soon."

A few days pass and you honestly had the best birthday ever, Billie was spoiling you like crazy. Took you out for a nice meal too. Today you were working from home, doing some needed chores along the way. Bill was at Finneases working on some stuff in his studio. You did take a small break though. Getting into bed and scrolling for a glass case to put around your new gift. Just to make sure it's safe. You go to grab your water, but as you do. Eyes glued to your screen. You hear a shatter. Uh oh. Your head turns slowly.

Panic rising within you. "Fuck. No no no." You say frantically trying not to freak out. You get on the floor picking up the pieces. Shit. It was really broken. You cry. Cry because you broke the sweetest gift, given by the sweetest person and you broke it. You curse at yourself. You feel so stupid. You're an idiot your brain tells you.

How.

Could.

You.

You grab the pieces, but as you do you accidentally cut your finger. "Shit!" You winced. How could this get any worse. You pick up any remaining shards. Standing up and contemplating. She was gunna hate you. You thought. You don't blame her, you had only just got it. Your hands go to your hair, all these bad thoughts rushing through. You were going to have a shower after you got the case. But now you don't even need the case because you stupidly broke the rose. So. Stupid. Your tears still streaming down your face, you felt so awful. The image of Billie being so hurt right after she was so excited giving it to you.

You get into the shower, sliding down the wall. All you could think about was how she was going to react when she comes home. The hot water ran over your crying form. You hadn't even heard the front door open and Billie calling out like she always does. Until you hear faint footsteps and the bathroom door open. "Baby?" Had she seen it yet...

"Y-yeah.." You reply, she opens up the curtain to see you in the position you were in. Confused as anything. "What's going on love?" She always knew when something was bothering you. "I'm so sorry." You pathetically cry out. "Baby, talk to me." She says stopping the water from running. You just shake your head, lip quivering. "Sweetheart, please." You take a moment. "Don't hate me." You weakly say. "How could I ever?" Her bewilderment made your heart ache more for what you are about to tell her.

"Go look on my bedside floor." Your voice was hushed. So incredibly worried as she goes to do so. Her eyes land on the last little bits of glass, looking at the shattered mess on your table. Her heart breaks, but not because you broke it and most definitely by accident. It was because you were so upset, she hated seeing you upset. She comes back in the room to you still in tears. "Bub, hey. It's ok." - "it's not. Im so sorry I'm so-" She stops your apologies. "Baby. We can fix it. It's fixable. And if not I'll just buy you another. I swear to you. It's all ok."

Her voice was tender. So soft and reassuring. Your crying settles just a bit. "Are you sure?" She nods. "So incredibly sure. I'm not mad my girl, never ever would be." Her hand extends out for yours. You take it and get out of the shower. "Are you hurt?" You pout at how sweet she was, you loved this woman to absolute death. "What?" She chuckles. You just shake your head. "Youre just so kind, I love you." She brings you in for a hug, you wrap your arms tightly around her. She couldn't give a single fuck that your body was dripping wet.

It lasted for a long time, before she pulls back and looks at you. "I did just a tiny bit but I'm ok." You state. "Where abouts?" You show her the red mark on your thumb, she grabs it. Bringing it to her lips as kissing it gently. "Like I said before if we can't fix it I'll buy a new one, this time with a case."

"Great idea."

#billie #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish angst

215 notes · View notes

venomhound · 2 days

Text

Hazbin Hotel - Petname Headcanons

Headcanons for what terms of endearment Vox, Alastor, and Lucifer use in their relationships. I was going to do more characters, but this post got too long (AGAIN), so I just did my favs. If enough people want it, I can do a part 2? Maybe? MAYHAPS?

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; talks about what yall like to be called during sex; Daddy/Mommy kinks; Valentino mention; Lucifer really needs therapy you guys (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

(NOTE: Huge credit to @bindeds for the whole 'Vox does sappy petnames' headcanon. You should read their post with it >here<. Its lived rent free in my head since I read it.)

Honestly? Vox is a menace when it comes to terms of endearment.

Vox loves to get creative and call you super sappy stuff. Things like sugar bear, honey kisses, love dove, cuddle cake.... I pray you can at least tolerate this because I have no doubt that Vox has sent past partners running for the hills by doing this.

These silly names tend to come in waves. Vox will have one that he likes to call you, use it for a short bit, then switch it up for a different one. So if there is one you particularly don't like, at least you never have to deal with it for more then a few days.

Vox doesn't like to talk about you in front of the cameras (he has a deep fear that your going to end up stolen). But when he does, he avoids using your actual name. Instead Vox calls you more... conventionally sappy petnames. Like dearest, or starlight.

Not embarrassed at all about calling you these things in front of millions of viewers. He loves you so much and feels so lucky to have you. In a perfect world and if this wasn't, you know, Hell, Vox would just openly brag about you on air 24/7.

While Vox always seems to have something new to call you, the one name that sticks around and actually gets used consistently is sugar. A classic 50s petname. He thinks it particularly suits you because your, well, sweet as sugar. And you make everything in his life better.

What You Call Him

Vox could not care less what you call him. I don't mean that in a 'he doesn't care' way, no, its the opposite. I mean you could call him literally whatever you want and Vox will love it. He just wants to be called something special and to know he is special to you.

I'm not kidding here. Everything is on the table. Cutesy names, sappy ones, playful nicknames... Literally whatever you want as long as its not straight up demeaning or embarrassing.

Don't call him Voxy though. Yeah, its a cute name he will admit; and it sounds bittersweet coming from your lips. But that name is just far too associated with Valentino. It brings back so many painful memories and raw resentment that Vox would rather not experience in your presence. If he has to at all.

I've always pictured Vox being that guy who never wants to hear his real name come from your mouth once you two start dating. You all know the type of guy I'm talking about. Dude will have an actual breakdown.

You two could be having a serious conversation or heated argument, but as soon as you say 'Vox' nothing else matters to him. Vox just gapes at you and is like "Since when am I VOX to you?! I'M YOUR CUDDLE BEAR." Or insert whatever name you use for him. He says it completely serious too.

NSFW Section

A little ironic considering he hates hearing his actual name come from your mouth normally; but when you two are in the bedroom, Vox wants you to say nothing but his name.

Vox loves nothing more then when he fucks you stupid on his cock or overstimulates you to where his name is the only word you know. When you start moaning his name like a prayer or chanting it as your voice cracks.

There is nothing more beautiful to him then those sounds. Vox could cum from those sounds alone; and he has many times. Times when one of you was away or you two were otherwise separated.

Vox would play back the sounds of your pleading during your last time together to himself. He had been away from you for too long. He desperately needed to hear your voice, his name from your lips. Its like a drug to him.

Vox tends to lean towards gentler, more classic names in the bedroom. He whispers how much he missed you, darling. While his lips greedily take yours again and again. He will kiss down your neck, mumbling against your skin how he cant wait to make his sweetheart feel good. Gorgeous, beautiful, and handsome also frequently leave his lips once more skin starts getting exposed.

I have always headcanoned Vox as a switch. When he veers towards that more dominant, possessive side, he will start using more sexually charged names like babe or kitten. But if you two have been together a long time or you end up tying the knot.... Now Vox just babbles about how perfect his wife or his husband is as he plows into you over and over.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

Poor deer man. Quite bluntly, he has no idea what to do when he gets actual feelings for someone. I mean, yeah, he know what to do; in theory. In practice however, its a whole different story. Things are always much easier in theory then actual reality.

Perfect example of this is when you two first become an item and Alastor tries to legitimately flirt with you. Alastor lays it on just a little bit too thick and goes straight to calling you baby.

The entire hotel gets thrown for a loop. Husk chokes on his drink, Angel Dust fucking yowls, and Vaggie is cringing into the next century.

Fun fact: 'baby' first started being used as a term of endearment in the 1920s and was all the rage during that time. So Alastor probably actually used it.

Poor boomer Alastor doesn't understand what happened until he vents to Rosie about it and she laughs at him too. Rosie has to explain to Alastor that the whole 'baby' thing has taken on a much more sexual connotation during the last, you know, hundred years.

Alastor is somehow even more embarrassed about the whole faux pas upon knowing the full context then he was before.

To avoid another, ahem... incident. Alastor just straight up asks what you would like him to call you. As long as its not something too weird or sappy he will oblige.

If you tell him to call you whatever he wants, Alastor is going to be like a deer in the headlights (pun intended) due to what happened last time. Will probably just stick to your name for awhile or test things out in private first.

Alastor is partial to calling you darling, my dear, or just love. Whichever seems to make your heart flutter most.

You can always tell when Alastor is in a particularly good/playful mood because he will call you my doe (if your female) or my buck (if your male). Alastor will also use this name if he is showing you off or you've done something to make him proud of you.

What You Call Him

If you were to ask him? Alastor would tell you to simply call him by his name or just Al. Says he isnt fond of petnames even though he uses them all the time. Guy is strange.

If you do start using petnames he wont stop you. Do keep it classy however. Don't call him anything super silly, or too sexual. He now has a vendetta against the name baby so don't call him that either.

Alastor will never directly say he likes the name, but you have noticed that when you call him love or my love his smile gets a bit wider and his eyes relax a bit.

You can get away with teasing names in private. Like princess for instance. When you first called Alastor that he gave you the dirtiest look. Not in a sexual way. I mean in a 'I dare you to call me that again, brat' way.

The second time you called him princess, Alastor's ears flattened against his head and he warned you to kindly refrain from that name. However, he couldn't hide how his tail was wagging playfully.

The third time you knew exactly what you were doing as you bolted in the opposite direction right after calling him a precious princess. Alastor, wide eyed and absolutely feral, immediately dropped everything in his hands, shattering several glasses, and gave chase.

Its become a weird game between the two of you. Alastor will never admit how much he loves to see that defiant spark in your eyes.

NSFW Section

Just like any other time, Alastor simply prefers to hear his name above all else when things get steamy. Although he does have a weak spot for being called master...

Likewise, Alastor tends to call you his pet. And like any good master with their pet, Alastor's ultimate goal is your safety and comfort. That doesn't mean he wont push you to your limits or make you perform for him however. The name is more of an unspoken promise that he will never actually hurt you.

Out of all the guys, Alastor is the one you would least expect to have a thing for calling you mommy in the bedroom (regardless of your gender). This usually happens when your overstimulated and/or Alastor is deep into a servicing mode, trying to make you feel as good as possible, and pulling as many orgasms from you as he physically can.

It also happens during his ruts. Alastor will vacillate between calling you mommy or his mate. He will growl into your neck how good of a mate you are as he fucks into you. How you are all his. Then after Alastor fills you to the brim with cum he will tell you how he, 'Cant wait for Mommy to have my fawns. Lets see how much more Mommy can take, hm?'

The whole mommy kink is a secret he will take with him to oblivion however. Alastor will make sure anyone who knows of it does too.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

Sorry; but I'm on the bandwagon that Lucifer uses duck based petnames for his partner. Duck or ducky are his go to names. Period. Especially when he is excited about something or gushing over how cute you are.

Lucifer genuinely thinks your as cute as a duck. Coming from him, thats quite a compliment. If you let him, Lucifer will 100% do the cutesy baby-talk voice at you when you do something particularly endearing and his cuteness meter is overloading.

When Lucifer is in front of people and trying to act normal (as in, masking hardcore), he will instead address you by a rather curt darling or my dear.

Although it may come across like Lucifer is distancing himself from you, he isn't actively trying to be less affectionate to you at all. Crowds/people in general are just super stressful for the guy and he is trying his absolute best to look like he has his shit together.

Once he relaxes a bit, you get some liquid courage in him, or if you two are with some friends, Lucifer moves to more intimate names.

When you go to sit, Lucifer will beckon you to come closer, doll, until your practically sitting on his lap. Then he will look at you with the most adoring eyes as he asks how are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart? He really does love you more then you can imagine.

What You Call Him

Lucifer tends to like the sweetest, sappiest terms of endearment. The ones that make your chest fill with butterflies and anyone within earshot nauseous. God bless the hotel for dealing with your shit because you two are actual diabetes.

Call him teddy bear, cuddle bug, or snuggs because of how physically affectionate he is. Also just because of how wonderful Lucifer's cuddles are and how you both could spend the rest of eternity in each other's arms.

Other good options are muffin, honey bun, or cupcake. Why the food names? Because Lucifer LOVES to cook for you of course! Its not just the pancakes either, this guy actually does know how to cook. One of his favorite things is to surprise you with a night in and a completely home made three course meal. (But thats for another post!)

If you want to compete with Lucifer's whole duck thing and give him a matching bird petname, you can call him lovebird. Lucifer might return the favor and start calling you his lovebird too. Because its exactly what you are. You both really are just a pair of lovebirds.

If you don't like ANY of those, buttercup or sweetpea are also good options. Two cute flower names that tie nicely into Lucifer's whole 'garden of Eden' thing.

You could also straight up call him cutie. Its a vicious cycle with this one. Because whenever you call him that, Lucifer gets the happiest, most adorable smile on his face. So you end up wanting to call him it more...

You got lots of great options with him. But if you want something more """serious"""; sweetie, sweetheart, honey, or shortening his name to Luci will still make his heart flutter without getting too crazy.

Another fun thing you can do, is call him my King or my Liege before kissing the back of his hand. Lucifer cant help but get flustered and start giggling like an idiot.

NSFW Section

Do I even need to say it? Do I even need to say what two words turn this man into an actual puddle on the spot?

Like seriously. Those words hold so much power that you have to be super careful with how you wield it. Lucifer could be so distracted, excitedly telling you about a new project he is working on. Then you just mutter how much of a good boy he is and every muscle in Lucifer's body instantly tenses. You giggle as you see a surprised shudder run up his spine. His cock already standing at full attention.

Lucifer has a weakness for the name pretty boy as well. Caress his soft skin, leaving a trail of hot kisses, before whispering how much of a pretty boy he is; and Lucifer will reward you with the most sinful moans.

Be careful with him though; Lucifer may be the sin of pride, king of hell, and the fucking devil, but the man wears his heart on his sleeve and can easily be hurt by your words if your not careful.

Don't degrade him. This actually really hurts him and can easily send Lucifer spiraling. Before punishments, tell him he has been a bad boy, a naughty boy. Tell him he has to make up for it and prove how good he really is.

Praise on both of your ends. Lucifer constantly tells you how beautiful, gorgeous, and/or handsome you are. When you return the praise, the devil melts.

Lucifer will call you angel or my angel, because to him, your beauty rivals all of heaven itself. You also came into his life and saved him as if you were an angel sent just for him. He knows that would never happen of course; but he likes to dream.

Has a lowkey daddy kink as well but is ashamed of it since he is an actual dad. But you can easily get him riled up by playing into it and calling yourself baby or mommy. Ooohh boy will this devil then be ready to actually make you a mommy~

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

AN: If you want a part 2, please say what characters you want. I started an Adam one, and I wanted to do an Angel Dust one. But Im open to whatever?

213 notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 3 days

Note

maybe wheezie or even sarah needing rafe to pick them up from school or attend a back to school night. like the school calls rafe to pick up sarah after getting in a fight. or the teacher calls him in to discuss that wheezie struggling in math

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 i think rafe's always had a soft spot for wheezie so i did this one for her cause i personally can see their dynamic being really cute.

we're both older now - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Sitting in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. His hands were on the wheel, jaw clenched just enough for you to notice, but not enough to freak out.

It’s been months since rehab, and you swear, you’ve never seen him like this before—so focused, so... responsible. It’s kinda hot.

But that’s not what you’re here for. Not right now.

You’re headed to Wheezie’s school because, apparently, she’s been struggling with math. She didn’t want to tell Rafe because Ward’s rarely at home these days and she didn’t want to bother him. When you found out, you could’ve smacked her. You get it—Rafe’s been under a lot of pressure lately—but you don’t think she realizes how much he cares about her. That’s why you two are heading to a parent-teacher meeting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s not.

“I should’ve known something was off,” Rafe mutters, breaking the silence.

You look over at him. “You couldn’t have. Wheezie’s good at keeping stuff to herself.”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel just a little. “I’m her brother. I should’ve noticed.”

You reach over, resting your hand on his arm. “You’re doing your best, baby. That matters.”

He lets out a breath, his tension easing under your touch. God, sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s the same guy who used to pick fights at every chance he got just a few years ago. It’s been almost a year since his last relapse, but every day you see him fighting to be better—for himself, for you, for his sisters. And honestly? It does something to you, seeing him like this.

You pull into the school parking lot, and he parks the truck, turning off the engine. For a second, he just sits there, staring straight ahead. You know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering if he’s good enough to handle this, to handle all of it.

“You got this,” You say softly.

Together, you walk into the school, and after a quick conversation with the receptionist, you’re led to Wheezie’s teacher’s classroom. The room smells like dry-erase markers and stress, the kind you remember from my own high school days.

Except, this is a private school, completely different from what you were used to, and back then, you loved school. You were good at it too—really good, actually. Straight A’s, honors, full ride to a decent college…but life had other plans.

You look at Rafe as you wait for the teacher to start the meeting. He’s sitting up straight, listening intently, and your chest tightens a little.

The same guy who used to blow off any responsibility now sitting here, laser-focused, ready to step up for his little sister. The teacher starts talking about Wheezie’s grades, how she’s been falling behind in math, and you can see the guilt in his face. You squeeze his knee under the table, trying to ground him, but honestly? This was hitting a little too close to home for you, too.

“I can help her,” You hear yourself say before you’ve even really thought about it. Rafe turns to look at you, surprised, and you shrug like it’s no big deal.

The teacher blinks, probably not expecting the girlfriend to jump in with a solution. “What did you score on your final exams?”

You move in your seat, not expecting the question but not exactly shy about your answer either. "I got a 1600 on my SATs," You said, trying to sound casual about it, even though you could see Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up next to you.

The teacher’s eyes widen slightly. "That’s impressive," she says, "You must’ve had a lot of options for college."

You shrug again feeling that familiar feeling of bittersweet regret. "Yeah, I had a full ride to a few places.”

“And you didn’t go?”

The way she says says it—like she can’t imagine why you wouldn’t go—hurts a little.

"Yeah, well... life happened." You try to brush it off like it doesn’t bother you.

Rafe’s hand slides over to yours under the table, interlocking your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s subtle, but it’s enough for you. To remind you that you made the right choices, even if they weren’t easy ones.

The meeting wraps up pretty quickly after that.

The teacher gives Rafe some advice on how to help Wheezie stay on track, and you both thank her before heading out of the classroom. As you walk down the hallway, he stays quiet for a bit, and you can’t really read what’s going through his head.

By the time you get back to the truck, he turns to you, his brow furrowed slightly, like he’s still processing everything. "You got a perfect score on your SATs?"

Three years into the relationship and he’s still learning things about you every day.

You let out a small laugh, brushing some hair behind your ear. "Yeah. It’s not a big deal."

"That’s kinda insane," he says, looking at you like he’s seeing a whole new side of you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

You shrug for the millionth time today, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I don’t know. It just never came up. It’s not like it matters now, anyway.”

"It does matter." His voice is firm, and when you glance over, you can see how serious he looks. "You gave up a lot to help your sister. That’s not nothing."

Your throat tightens, and you have to swallow down the emotion rising inside you. The way Rafe says it, like he actually gets it, means more than he probably knows. "I just did what I had to do."

He nods slowly, like he understands that feeling all too well. "You didn’t have to offer to help Wheezie today. But you did.”

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it. "I want to help her. She deserves it."

Rafe doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with this soft, almost disbelieving expression. Like he can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re still here, beside him, helping his family without a second thought.

"You’re amzing, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice low and warm in that way that makes your stomach flip.

You feel your cheeks heat up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Stop."

"I mean it." He reaches over, cupping your face gently with his hand, thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. His eyes soften as they meet yours, filled with so much adoration it makes you want to hide. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m really fucking grateful."

You bite your lip, glancing down at his other hand on your knee before looking back up at him.

"You’ve been working hard. For yourself, for us. I see that."

His jaw tightens just slightly, and he looks down, almost like he’s not sure how to take the compliment. But when his eyes meet yours again,

"I’m trying," he says quietly. "I’m trying to be better."

"And you are," you whisper. "Every day."

The months of hard work, the late nights when you’ve held him through his doubts, the mornings when he’s shown up for his family even when it was hard. It’s all there, between you, unspoken but understood.

Rafe leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you," he whispers. "For everything."

You close your eyes, letting the moment settle around you. "I’ll always be here," you whisper back. "We’ve got this."

“I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you.”

You swallow hard, trying not to let it hit you too deep. But it does. Because for all the mess you’ve been through—his ups and downs, his relapse, his constant fight to be better—it always comes back to you. To this.

“I’ll always have your back,” You remind him quietly. “You know that, right?”

He nods, like there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind. “I know. You’re really good with her," he says after a beat. "With Wheezie. And with Milo."

You smile, leaning back in your seat. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta look after the kids, right? Might as well be me."

Rafe’s lips twitch into another smile as he leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, "Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For sticking around,” he says, pulling back slightly to look at you. “Even when I didn’t make it easy.”

“You make it worth it, Rafe. You always have.”

Because seeing him like this—happy, strong, responsible, and healthy—it’s more than just him trying. It’s him becoming the person you always believed he could be, from day one on that stupid country club. And that? That’s something you’d stick around for any day.

When you and Rafe pull up to Tannyhill, the sun’s already setting. You grab your bag from the backseat, and he takes a deep breath, his hand hovering near yours like he needs to hold onto you just for a second longer. When you step into the house, you’re greeted by the usual stillness that fills the place. It’s huge, but it always feels too quiet.

Wheezie’s sitting at the kitchen island, hunched over her phone, clearly trying to distract herself. Her leg’s bouncing nervously under the stool, and you don’t even have to say anything to know that she’s been dreading this moment.

As soon as she sees the two of you, she freezes, eyes wide, "Hey," she greets, her voice shaky.

Rafe glances at you, and you give him a small nod. You know he’s trying to figure out how to handle this—he’s never really had to play the role of ‘responsible older brother’ before. But he’s doing it. He’s trying. And that’s what matters.

"Wheeze," Rafe starts, as he walks over to her, and you can see the panic rising in her eyes as she sits up straighter like she’s preparing for the worst. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

She bites her lip, glancing between the two of you. "I-I didn’t want to bother you," she mumbles, her voice small. "You’ve been dealing with a lot, and I thought— I don’t know. I thought I could handle it on my own."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s quiet for a second, and you can feel Wheezie’s anxiety practically buzzing out of her. She’s probably expecting him to yell, to go off on her, but instead, he takes a step forward and pulls her into a hug.

"You ever keep something like that from me again," he mutters into her hair, his tone firm but warm, "and you’re grounded."

Wheezie’s eyes go wide in shock, like she wasn’t expecting that at all. Her arms wrap around him a little awkwardly, but you can tell she’s relieved. She pulls back after a second, staring up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. "You’re not mad?"

Rafe shakes his head, but his expression is serious. "I’m not mad. I’m worried, Wheeze. I’m here, okay? I got you."

"I’m sorry," she whispers.

He sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her. "Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again."

She nods quickly, and you step closer, offering her a small smile. "You’re not in trouble, Wheezie. I’m gonna help you with the math stuff, okay? I promise."

Wheezie looks over at you, clearly surprised, and then back at Rafe. "You’re… really not mad?"

Rafe rolls his eyes but in that big-brother way that’s full of affection.

"No, Wheeze, I’m not mad. But next time you’re struggling with something, tell me. That’s what I’m here for."

She nods, relief washing over her features. "Okay. I will."

Rafe reaches out and ruffles her hair, something so casual and brotherly it makes your heart swell.

"Good. Now go do whatever you do, and remember—grounded if you pull that shit again."

You slap his arm, “Will stop cursing in front of her?”

He shoots you a half-smirk, looking completely unbothered. "Please baby, she’s sixteen. You think she doesn’t curse?"

Wheezie lets out a small laugh, covering her mouth as if she’s trying to keep it together, but you can tell she’s relieved.

"Yeah, but maybe not in front of her big brother," you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

Rafe shrugs, looking like he couldn’t care less. "If she’s smart enough to hide it from me, more power to her."

Wheezie giggles again, and you can’t help but smile. "Yeah, yeah," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him playfully. "You’re a great role model, Rafe Cameron."

He groans, “Please don’t use the full name.” The corners of his mouth tug up in a grin that makes your heart skip. “Alright, no more big brother lectures tonight. We’re good, yeah, Wheeze?”

Wheezie nods, still smiling. “Yeah, we’re good.”

212 notes · View notes

imaginespazzi · 10 hours

Text

Part 10: The Bridges Burned Around Us

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Be good to me, and I'll be good to you (but please don't be too good to be true)

(In which an apologetic writer finally finishes a chapter that took much longer than necessary)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 10.2K (seems fitting for chapter 10 lol)

TW: Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies :) I am so incredibly late with this I know but considering it's really the length of two chapters, I think I should be forgiven. Despite how long this took me, I don't really know how I feel about this chapter because it's both filler but also pretty important so honestly it does feel a little all over the place. But I hope y'all like it anyways. I do suggest quickly skimming over Part 2 before you read this just to jog your memory a little bit. I did edit as I always do but there's probably typos/mistakes, so feel free to point those out. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a wonderful weekend my loves <3

May 2033

“What the hell Bueckers?” Coach yells, glaring daggers at Paige who has the audacity to at least look a little embarrassed as she reaches a hand to help the rookie she’d just knocked over with far too much unnecessary force. Azzi narrows her eyes at the scene, confused at Paige’s atypical behavior. It wasn’t uncommon for the vets to rib the rookies a little bit, hell they had a whole ragging initiation ceremony planned for this weekend to welcome the newest members of their team, but Paige seemed to have a personal vendetta against Angie Davis.

When they’d watched the draft together, Azzi could’ve seen sworn she’d seen a flash of uncomfortableness flicker in Paige’s eyes as the commissioner announced that the Valkyries, with their third pick acquired via Atlanta, were picking Angie Davis from Stanford University. The blonde had stiffened but only for a split second and Azzi had chalked it up to nothing because really, what beef could Paige possibly have with a 22 year old? Except clearly something was bothering the Minnesota native because this is the fifth time today itself that Paige has fouled the girl so hard that her body had almost slightly bounced as it hit the floor.

The first time, everyone had found it amusing because who didn’t laugh at a rookie getting a taste of the league. The second time, Coach had rolled her eyes but the rest of the team had still found it pretty funny. And then as it continued, Azzi could tell her teammates were just as confused by Paige’s behavior as she was. They might not know the blonde as well as Azzi did, but in the last month or so they’d discover that the basketball superstar was really just a ball of golden retriever energy. Since they’d started training camp recently, they’d seen that Paige always practiced hard but she also had the time of her life doing it. They’d seen that she might practically bulldoze her teammates in her eagerness to be a good defender but she’d always be the first one to help pick them up with a teasing grin on her face right after. Except apparently not with Angie. With Angie, there was nothing but brute force and the first couple of times, before Coach’s clear irritation had started to seep onto her face, Paige hadn’t even bothered helping the rookie up. And although Azzi would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that a part of her found this aggressive display of strength just a tad bit attractive, she also knew it was completely unlike her Paige to be acting like this.

“So,” she says softly, lowering her voice purposefully as she sidles up to Paige in the locker room after practice, “are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” there’s a smirk on Paige’s face as she takes a step closer towards Azzi.

The brunette narrows her eyes, “you know what.”

“What I know,” Paige whispers as she ghosts her hands across Azzi’s hips, keeping her movement innocuous as to not alert their other teammates who are engrossed in conversation not too far away from them, “is that I’m pretty sure you’re just looking for a way to get close to me.”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” but she can’t stop the faint blush that’s creeping up her cheeks as Paige’s hot breath fans across her face and her gaze shifts to the blonde’s sweat sheened biceps that are on fully display under her flimsy tank top.

Paige notices it immediately as her smirk widens, “appreciating the view baby?”

“Shut up,” Azzi shoves her back lightly, “don’t try and distract me.”

“‘I’m not even trying. I just have that effect on you,” Paige shrugs coyly as she pushes herself back into Azzi’s space.

The brunette’s eyes dart over to her teammate for a brief second, making sure the rest of them are still occupied with their own conversations as she takes her own step towards the blue-eyed woman, the edges of her lips turning up into a smug grin when she hears Paige’s breath hitch, “and what about the effect I have on you?”

There’s something thrilling about hiding this from their team, something sexy about having to keep their hands to themselves when they’re constantly desperate to touch. It was torture in a way, having Paige so close and not being able to kiss her or hold her. But that only meant that when Azzi did finally get to do all of those things, it felt like finally coming up for air; like after being deprived of her oxygen for so long, she could finally breathe.

Last time around, they’d kept it a secret from the world but everyone who meant something to them had known. Their old teammates for one. This time, especially since they hadn’t quite defined what this was, they’d chosen to keep it even closer to their chests. It had been Paige’s idea this time and Azzi thinks maybe she’d proposed it just to beat the brunette to the punch-maybe she’d even been a little disappointed by it- but she thinks that they probably do need a little more time; a little more time to trust that this time they wouldn’t go up in flames, that they wouldn’t burn everyone else around them.

“You don’t- you don’t have any effect on me,” Paige stutters.

“Is that right?” Azzi asks coyly, taking her shirt off at a ridiculous slow pace, enjoying the way blonde’s eyes are immediately drawn towards her toned abs, “none at all?”

“N-no,” Paige gulps as she watches the brunette finally get rid of the offending t-shirt and she’s left in nothing but a sports bra that does little to hide the curves underneath.

“Appreciating the view baby?” Azzi smirks, repeating the older woman’s words from before she slyly runs her index finger across the purplish red hues of a hickey Paige had left on her collarbone from the night before.

“You’re so-”

“Bueckers,” a loud voice interrupts Paige’s groan as the two of them spring apart, everyone in the room turning to look at their Coach leaning against the doorframe, “in my office. Now.”

It feels a little bit like they’re college students being reprimanded again but there’s this nagging intuition in Azzi’s gut, as she watched Paige sheepishly follow Coach into her office, that she’s missing out on some important information. Something churns in her stomach at the thought of it. Things had been near perfect so far; they were climbing back up to what they had been, maybe climbing their way to something better but Azzi thinks that if another gust of circumstance tries to shove them down again, they might not be able to get back up this time. Because this time, they’re not climbing alone. This time, they have Stephie and at the end of the day, she’s all that matters.

“So is Paige’s car broken or something?” Tessa’s question catches Azzi off guard as she shakes herself out of head and looks at her teammate with confusion.

“Uh no why?”

“I mean it’s just every time she shows up somewhere, it seems she’s in your car, with you. So I just figured something must be up with her car, why else would y’all be carpooling literally every single day unless-” there’s a sparkle in Tessa’s eyes as she leans casually against her locks, “unless there’s another reason?”

“What other reason could there be?” Azzi’s voice is unusually high-pitched as she avoids Tessa’s perceptive eyes and instead glares daggers at a spluttering Jana, “her car’s in the shop. That’s it. That’s definitely it. That’s the only reason I’m driving her around.”

“Aw that sucks,” Laila says with an oblivious empathetic smile, “I mean we could help out if that’s the case? With carpooling.”

“I don’t think-”

“What a lovely idea Phelia,” Tessa smirks and Azzi knows just by how guileful it is, that the former Gamecock is absolutely onto them, “what do you think Azzi? Maybe we can make a little chart for who drives Paige to practice huh? Be welcoming to our teammate?”

Resisting the urge to flip off both Tessa and Jana whose shoulders are shaking with laughter, Azzi settles on a sugary sweet smile instead, “I don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Oh we’d be happy to help,” Tessa chirps happily and Azzi’s suddenly wistful for the moment back in her senior year when she’d dropped the South Carolina guard for an easy layup.

“And that’s very kind of y’all but,” she reaches over to squeeze the younger girl’s shoulder tightly, making her grunt in discomfort, “I think Paige is okay. It just works better if it’s one person. Less complications, you know?”

“Won’t somebody please think about the complications,” Jana snickers.

“I’m so confused,” Laila says, a frown on her face as she looks weirdly at her teammates.

“It’s nothing,” Azzi says shrilly as she slings both her and Paige’s bags on her shoulders, rolling her eyes when both Jana and Tessa giggle at the domesticity of the action, “don’t worry about it, Phelia.”

“Y’all are acting strange,” Laila shrugs as she starts to make her way out of the locker room and Azzi’s rounds on the other two women.

“Whatever you think you know Tess,” Azzi raises a finger in warning, “keep it to yourself.”

Tessa makes a point to make a zipping motion across her lips as her eyes glimmer with mischief.

“Thank god,” Jana gasps dramatically, “I was so tired of having to deal with these two all by myself. Do you know how hard it is Tess? I’ve been doing it for YEARS.”

“You poor soul,” Tessa coos, “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you. They’re kind of disgusting.”

“You peeped that already? Damn Azzi, do you realize how sickening y’all must be for Tessa to have already figured it out?”

“No forreal,” Tessa teases, “if you don’t want people catching onto your shit, I suggest y’all stop eyefucking every other second.”

“Fuck all the way off. Both of you,” Azzi grunts as Jana practically howls with laughter.

“You kiss your daughter with that mouth Fudd?”

“I dunno about Stephie,” Tessa drops her voice so only Jana and Azzi can hear her, “but I bet she kisses Paige with that mouth huh Az?”

Azzi groans, hiding her bright red face in her hands as her teammates' jovial laughter echoes through the locker room.

***

Paige is eerily quiet as she climbs into the passenger seat and Azzi knows immediately by the way she doesn’t try to coax her way into driving, that whatever conversation she’d had with Coach, likely hadn’t been a pleasant one. There are a thousand and one questions taking birth in her mind but Azzi doesn’t voice any of them, knowing Paige isn’t ready to answer them. Instead, she laces her fingers through Paige’s, resting them on the other girl's lap as she rubs a soothing circle against the back of her hand, a promise of whenever you’re ready to share, i’ll be ready to listen.

They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts, one driven by that fact Paige has practically moved into Azzi’s house at this point. Their day started with them dropping Stephie off at school before the two of them would go to training or practice or whatever basketball activities they had planned. Then, they’d go to pick up Stephie from school and Azzi would drop her and Paige off at Curry camp while she ran various errands before circling back to pick them up. It’s domestic as hell and there’s a part of Azzi that’s still a little fearful; perhaps they’re trying to fit the puzzle pieces of their separate lives into each other a little too quickly. But she thinks that maybe those puzzle pieces had never really been disconnected, because sometimes she thinks their existence might just be an extension of each other’s.

“You know,” Azzi begins softly when it becomes abundantly clear Paige isn’t going to speak first, “I’m okay with the fact that you’ve probably fucked other people. I mean other than the woman you married as well that is.”

“What the fuck?” Paige’s head whips towards her so quick, it must hurt just a little bit, “where the fuck did that come from?”

Azzi shrugs, “I’m just saying-”

“Why are you just saying?” Paige's eyes widen in panic as she possessively tightens her grip on the brunette’s hand, “are you about to tell me about someone you hooked up with? Because I’mma be honest Azzi I’d rather jump out of this moving car then hear about some whore who had the audacity-”

“Audacity? You do realize I was-”

“Say you were single and I actually will jump out of the car,” Paige warns, “but no actually dude what the fuck?”

“Well you see,” Azzi says carefully, “I’m trying to figure out why you’re being such a bitch to our new rookie and after careful deliberation, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s gotta be a hookup gone wrong because why the fuck else would Paige Bueckers, who has a hard time killing a spider, be so unnecessarily mean to this poor girl?”

There’s silence in the car for a second as Paige opens and closes her mouth, unable to get a word out, until she doubles over laughing, the sound of it echoing all around them. Azzi can’t help the soft grin that flitters across her face, relieved at seeing the way the tension begins to dissipate from the blonde’s shoulders. And Azzi swears that when Paige laughs, it feels a little bit like the sun has come out again; like the flowers are blooming and birds are chirping and everything is right in the world again and she thinks the sun should probably be jealous of the warmth Paige exudes because at least against the silhouette of Azzi’s sky, Paige burns brighter than the sun ever will.

��You-you think I fucked Angie?” Paige finally manages to splutter out between peals of laughs, “baby she’s barely 22.”

“Hey,” Azzi pouts, “you always did go for younger women. Like me for example.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “you’re literally one year younger than me.”

“One year and a couple of days,” Azzi corrects.

Rolling her eyes Paige uses both hands to hold Azzi’s non-driving one, “Azzi I swear to you that I have never in my life hooked up with Angie fucking Davis.”

“I know,” Azzi confesses, eyes still focused on the road ahead of her, “so what exactly is your problem with her then Paige?”

“You couldn’t have just asked me that?”

Azzi shrugs, “felt like I needed to make you laugh first. So tell me Bueckers-” before she can continue, she feels lips being pressed to her cheeks and can’t help the crimson tinge it elicits on her face, “what- what was that for?”

“Because you’re a little bit of a sap and I’m glad you’re my sap,” Paige grins, “all mine.”

“You’re trying to change the topic.”

“I am not.”

“Paige.”

The blonde sighs, leaning her head back against the headrest, “can we talk about it tonight? I wanna tell you I promise- I just- I think we need to sit down so that I- I can explain it to you properly.”

“That feels ominous,” Azzi’s stomach clenches at the seriousness in Paige’s voice as she turns onto the street for Stephie’s school, “should I be worried?”

“No,” Paige says firmly, bringing their enclosed hands to her mouth so she can brush a kiss across Azzi’s knuckles, “it’s nothing we can’t get through.”

Azzi nods as she pulls into the school parking lot, mustering up a reassuring smile of her own as she squeezes Paige’s hand. But there’s still a speck of fear dancing around in her gut; it’s this constant fear of losing Paige again that she doesn’t think she’ll ever truly be able to sweep out of her system. They’ve been doing so good these last few weeks -like they’re collecting together the scattered pages of everything we used to be and binding them back together with strings of all that we can become- but sometimes Azzi finds herself afraid that it might all just disappear, that a gust of wind might blow everything out of her hands all over again.

“HI MAMA. HI MISS BUECKS,” she’s shaken from her thoughts by the backdoor opening as Stephie barrels into the car, the happiness in her voice contagious as she leans over the console to kiss Azzi and then Paige, before hanging between them and tapping at her own cheeks. The two adults laugh as they simultaneously press their lips to the little girl's cheeks, causing her dimples to deepen as she giggles between them.

“How was school Stephie-bean?” Paige asks, peering over her own shoulder to make sure Stephie buckles herself in correctly as Azzi backs the car out.

Stephie scrunches up her nose is distaste, “it’s school Miss Buecks. It was so boring. Except for lunch. Lunch was great. I love lunch.”

“You’re so real Steph,” Paige nods seriously, “lunch is the best and school is so bor-”

“Paige!”

“C’mon Az, I’m not gonna lie to the kid.”

“Exactly Mama,” Stephie chimes in loyally from the backseat, “lying is bad.”

Azzi rolls her eyes as Paige twists her hand to hold it out for Stephie to high-five it from the backseat, “the two of you are insufferable.”

“What does that mean?” Stephie asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“It means we’re her most favorite people in the world,” Paige winks at the little girl as Azzi shakes her head fondly, choosing to keep the you’re more than that, you two are the reason my world keeps turning that tastes sugary sweet on the tip of her tongue to herself as she continues to drive.

“What do y’all want for dinner?” she asks instead, ready to make a mental note of ingredients she might need to pick up from the grocery store while Paige and Stephie are at Curry Camp.

“Actually,” there’s a slight nervous lilt to Paige’s voice and when Azzi looks over, she finds the older woman fidgeting anxiously with her thumbs, “I was thinking that maybe um- maybe y’all could come over to mine tonight? Maybe I can cook?”

They haven’t stayed at Paige’s since that first disastrous night. It hadn’t been on purpose per say; it was simply just easier to stay at Azzi’s, especially with Stephie to consider but perhaps a part of it had been subconscious self-preservation on the younger girl's part. Something about sleeping over at Paige’s feels more purposeful; like she’s fully letting herself step back into the other’s girl world and this time with the promise to not run away in the morning. It’s scary but when Azzi sees the hopeful look on Paige’s face as the blonde bites her lips, she thinks it’s worth it to take the leap; she’s ready for it.

“I think that would be nice,” she says with a soft smile, “I’ll pick up some clothes for Stephie while y’all are at camp.”

Paige beams and Azzi can tell she’s itching to lean over to grab her hand or kiss her touch her in any way but there’s still the little fact they still haven’t quite told Stephie anything about them yet that stops her from doing any of the above.

“What do you think of that Stephie bean? You wanna have a sleepover at my place tonight?” she redirects her attention to the little girl instead.

“YES PLEASE,” Stephie squeals, practically bouncing on her car seat before a frown crosses her forehead, “but um-” she hesitates, “you um- you can’t cook Miss Buecks.”

Azzi bursts into a laughter as an offended look clouds Paige’s face, “excuse me? I absolutely can cook.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie says, her condescension-filled tone as adult as she can make it be, “you burned my eggs three times this week and then Mama had to make them all over again and we were almost late for school,” the little girl smirks through her ramble, “but that’s okay because I don’t mind being late for school because like I said school is really boring.”

“Okay but what about the one time I didn’t burn the eggs?” Paige haughtily crosses her arms over chest, “have we all just forgotten about that?”

“Pretty sure they were a little undercooked and saltless that one time-OW,” Azzi’s snicker is cut off by a pinch to her stomach, “do you want me to crash the car woman?”

Paige ignores her, turning back to look at Stephie with a betrayed expression, “you said you liked them?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feeling Miss Buecks,” the little girl wails and Azzi feels a mix of pride and love bloom in her heart at the kind soul she’s raised, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I just-” Stephie reaches as far as her seatbelt will allow to cup Paige’s hand in her tiny hands, “I really don’t think you should cook Miss Buecks.Please. I don’t wanna die yet. I’m too cute to die.”

“You know what Stephie bean,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, “I think you might be even more of a drama queen than me-”

“Don’t sound so proud,” Azzi mutters under her breath.

“Shhh,” Paige chastises, never looking away from Stephie, “but alright sweetheart. I won’t cook. How about we order pizza?”

Stephie lets out a delighted cheer as Azzi grumbles, “more junk food? I swear to god Bueckers you’re completely ruining her diet.”

“On the contrary, I think I’m finally fixing it. You poor thing,” Paige coos at Stephie dramatically, “I bet your Mama was torturing you with nasty green things all day every day before me huh?”

“No no no Miss Buecks, veggies are good for you,” Stephie recites loyally and Azzi grins triumphantly at Paige.

“Oh dear Stephie you’ve been brainwashed-”

“Excuse me? Don’t try to corrupt my child out of her good habits.”

“I’m not corrupting her,” Paige defends as Azzi makes a left turn into the parking lot for Curry Camp, “I’m just teaching her the wonders of grease and oil and all the other fun things that adults lie are bad for you.”

“Paige you are an adult.”

“But a fun one,” Paige smirks, waggling her eyebrows at Stephie through the mirror as Azzi stops the car right outside the building, “right Stephie-bean?”

“The fun-est-est-est-est,” Stephie choruses back as she begins to unbuckle herself so she can latch onto her mother’s neck from behind. Paige takes the opportunity to climb out of the car so she can grab Stephie’s sports bag from where it’s kept in the trunk.

“You be good for Miss Buecks and Uncle Twin at camp today okay?” Azzi whispers to the little girl, “and I better hear that you made all your shots.”

Stephie scoffs, “you know I never miss Mama.”

“That’s my girl,” Azzi grins as she nuzzles her nose against the little girl’s before Paige opens the backdoor and Stephie unlatches herself from her mother, only so she can go barrelling into the older woman’s arms instead, “Stephie-bean you know you can walk.”

“But Mama,” Stephie whines, wrapping her hands tightly around Paige’s neck, “I’m too tired to walk-”

“Stephie,” Azzi sighs.

“You don’t mind carrying me, do you Miss Buecks?”

“Of course not,” Paige grins, “whatever you want sweetheart.”

Stephie looks pointedly at Azzi, “see Mama? Miss Buecks doesn’t mind.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Azzi shakes her head, “alright off you two go. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

“Bye Mama,” Stephie waves, “hurry back okay? We’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you guys too,” Azzi says warmly, blowing a kiss at both of them.

It’s uncanny how similar the two of them are, when both Stephie and Paige make a show of catching the kiss and bringing it to their heart before looking at each other and giggling over their own silliness. It makes Azzi’s heartache in the best way possible. And as she watches the two of them start walking up the stairs, Stephie rambling and Paige hanging onto every word, she thinks that as long as life gives her the two of them, she’ll never ask for anything else.

***

The first thing Azzi notices when she walks into the gym, arriving a little before camp finishes so she can say hi to her mentor, is Stephie sulking as she glares at Paige from the other side of the court. Confused, because it’s rare to see her daughter looking at the other woman with anything but pure adulation, Azzi follows the little girl’s line of sight to see what could possibly have upset her. A fond smile crosses her face as she sees Paige crowded by a bunch of children, all of them watching the superstar with wonder as she demonstrates her shooting technique. Paige swishes the ball into the basket and one would think she’d just scored the game-winning shot in the finals, by the way the gaggle of kids around her let out enthused cheers.

The blonde has always had this aura that draws people to her -Azzi would know; she’d been one of the first people to succumb to it (not that she’d put up much of a fight)- but there’s something different about the charisma Paige has with kids. Perhaps it’s because of her own childlike innocence that’s still intact despite her age, but it’s clear that the little ones adore her. Azzi watches as one of the little girls animatedly tries to mimic what Paige had just demonstrated, looking upset when the basketball barely touches the rim.

“I’m never gonna make a basket,” she hears the girl pout.

Paige ruffles the kid’s hair before lifting her up onto her lap, “of course you are. You just needed a little bit more height. Here try again,” she says as she urges the girl to shoot again now that she’s higher off the ground. This time the ball falls magnificently through the hoop and the child whoops.

“OH MY GOD COACH P I DID IT,” she squeals, hiding her face in Paige’s neck and while Azzi finds the whole thing quite adorable, when she looks over, she realizes that clearly Stephie is not nearly amused as she watches her daughter’s face transform into a scowl.

“Riley and Ryan used to make the same face any time I gave another little girl too much of my time,” Azzi grins as Steph appears by her side, the former Warriors guard bumping her shoulder as a sign of greeting, “I split the kids into groups, half with Paige and half with me. Kept Stephie with me cause you know I thought I was her favorite but she’s been glaring at all the kids with Paige this whole time.”

“She’s uh- she’s a little possessive,” Azzi chuckles, eyes still on her daughter who finally looks away from Paige, before angrily shooting the ball at the lowered basket in front of her.

“NICE SHOT TWIN NIECE,” Steph cheers as Stephie makes the shot, the little girl’s face unmoving as she gathers the ball back and gets ready to shoot again. Sometimes Azzi thinks, as she claps with pride, her daughter’s laser-focus attitude might rival her own. Maybe it’s a mother’s bias -she’d call it intuition- but she’s certain Stephie’s going to be a basketball phenomenon one day.

“That was so pretty Stephie-bean,” Paige is beaming as she approaches Stephie, the little girl from before holding her hand, “you think you can show Claudia here how you get that arc on it?”

“No thank you Coach Bueckers,” Stephie’s voice is perfectly polite as she makes a point to not look at the two people who’ve just entered her space, but Azzi catches the split second when her gaze shifts irritatedly to the way Claudia’s hanging off of Paige, “I’m a little busy right now. Maybe another time.”

“Oh she’s good,” Steph whistles lowly as Paige’s mouth falls open at not being referred to as Miss Buecks, “she’s gonna have Paige groveling after camp I bet. She’s gonna get whatever treat she wants.”

Azzi groans, “that is not a good thing. Do you know how much junk food she manipulates Paige into getting her?”

Steph laughs, “she spoils her huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Azzi mutters but there’s a wistful grin on her face, “It’s part of why Stephie adores her so much cause she knows Paige would give her the world if she could.”

“I don’t think it’s just Stephie who adores her,” Steph bumps his shoulder against her and Azzi blanches at the knowing tone in his voice.

“That’s not- I mean- I don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” she stutters out.

Steph rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, “oh come off it Az. It was obvious when y’all were kids and it’s still obvious now.”

“When we were- you knew?”

“Of course I knew,” Steph scoffs, “I’ve been married for more than 20 years to the same girl I fell in love with at 15 years old Az, I know a thing or two about what love looks like. Of course I knew.”

“I’m just getting clocked left right and center today what the hell,” she grumbles but there’s a part of her that’s slightly relieved about the people around them slowly figuring it out. She thinks she should maybe be a little more embarrassed about how obvious they apparently are -have supposedly always been- but honestly she kind of loves that their love is so bright, that it’s impossible to not see it.

Love. The word sends a shiver through Azzi. It’s not a foreign feeling to her at all, especially not when it comes to Paige. If she’s honest with herself, it’s a feeling that has never left. She’d tried as hard as she could; shoving it underneath a rock of you’re not allowed to feel this way that weighed heavily against her chest. But it had always been there and as soon as Paige had waltzed her way back into Azzi’s life, the blonde seemed to have found a way to shovel it right back out. And that four-letter-word isn’t buried anymore; it’s right there on the tip of her tongue and every time Paige smiles at her -eyes crinkling with only for you-, Azzi’s this close to let it slip through her lips. She’s just waiting for the right time.

“Hey Stephie-bean can I fix your form a little bit,” her attention is drawn back to her surroundings as she watches Paige try to get Stephie to look at her again but her daughter is nothing if not stubborn.

“That’s okay. It’s almost time to go home and I’m sure Uncle Twin can help me with my form Coach Bueckers,” the little girl says contemptuously to a gobsmacked Paige before gesturing at Claudia, “how about you just keep helping her instead.”

“Sheesh that’s one petty kid you’ve got there Fudd,” Steph remarks before stepping to the front of the court and blowing his whistle, “alright y’all it’s 5 o’clock. Great job today! I hope you guys had a lot of fun and learned some good stuff and I’ll see y’all back here tomorrow!”

The former player diligently high-fives all the kids before they disperse towards their awaiting parents. Azzi can tell Stephie’s still irritated when the little girl barely hugs Steph, shaking herself out of her Uncle’s arms much quicker than she normally would as she all but stomps her way to her mother.

“Woah there Stephie-bean,” Azzi says gently, falling to her knees in front of her daughter, “what’s wrong?”

Stephie pouts miserably, “I’m mad at Miss Buecks. She’s been helping other kids this whole time.”

Azzi has to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling, amused by the child’s dramatics, “baby you know that’s Miss Buecks’s job right? She’s here to coach all the kids.”

If possible, Stephie’s frown deepens as she kicks her feet stubbornly, “she can coach them,” she says matter-of-factly, “but why does she have to carry them and give them hugs. She should only do that with me.”

“Stephie-”

“And camp is over now and she’s still with stupid Claudia,” Stephie whines as she uses her hand to turn Azzi’s face towards Paige, “see?”

The we don’t call people stupid lesson that she was just about to give her daughter dies on Azzi’s lips as her eyes fixate on where a stupid pretty young woman who she knows to be Claudia’s mother is staring up at Paige with a stupid flirty smile. Azzi has no idea what the blonde is saying, but she’s sure it can’t be that funny to make the woman tilt her head back in laughter, left hand reaching out to flick Paige’s bicep and lingering far longer than necessary.

“You know what Stephie-bean I think it’s time to home,” and really she feels just a little guilty with how she’s about to use her clearly upset daughter, “how about you go call Miss Buecks over.”

That’s all it takes to get Stephie running towards her and Azzi follows cautiously behind, only getting further irritated at how Claudia’s mother seems determined to step closer and closer to Paige and the clueless blonde does absolutely nothing to stop it, continuing to smile politely at the other woman.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie comes to a halt in front of Paige, interrupting whatever conversation was going on as she practically forces herself in between the two women, “Mama says it’s time to go home.”

Despite the jealousy simmering her heart, Azzi can’t help that her heart skips a beat at the way Paige’s whole face brightens up at seeing Stephie; clearly relieved at the little girl using her nickname again.

“Give me one second sweetheart. I’m just a little busy talking to Claudia and her mother-”

“Mama,” Stephie says loudly, cutting Paige off as she turns to Azzi, “do you know if Aunty Chérie is in town?”

“Um- I- uh-” the brunette stutters, not having expected her little girl to bring that up as her gaze flickers towards a frozen Paige whose smile is completely gone, her body going rigid at the mention of Clémence.

“I was just thinking,” Stephie barrels on casually, “maybe we could go see her and she could give me cuddles and kisses since app-ently Miss Buecks is too busy to give them to me-”

The little girl cuts herself off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted off the ground and into Paige’s arms; the blonde peppering her lips against every inch of Stephie’s face.

“Never ever too busy for you and I’m especially never too busy to give you kisses Stephie-bean.”

“Promise,” Stephie holds out her pinky finger and Paige diligently intertwines her own through it, pressing a kiss to their now interlocked pinkies.

“Promise.”

Shaking her head fondly at her menace daughter’s antiques, Azzi fixes Claudia’s mother with a sweetly saccharine smile as she wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep. She can feel the blonde’s eyes immediately drift towards her, clearly a little thrown off by her forwardness. It had been Azzi’s go-to-move in college whenever Paige’s fanclub would get a little too handsy. She’d sidle up into her girlfriend’s space, marking her territory as subtly as possible. Azzi knows this is a little different. It had been easier back then to play the action off as a protective best friend warding off boundary-less fans; really it was uncanny the things two girls could get away with under the guise of friendship. But it’s different now that they’re actual adults and she can see the clogs running Claudia’s mother’s head as she starts to piece everything together.

“Hi I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Stephie’s mom, Azzi, nice to meet you,” Azzi says finally, holding out her hand that isn’t still clasped firmly around Paige’s bicep, “I think it’s usually your husband who picks Claudia up from camp right?”

“I’m Stacie,” the woman says, primly returning the handshake, “yeah my husband’s usually the one who picks her up but I had a little time today-”

“Don’t lie Mommy. I heard you on the phone saying you wanted to come pick me up so you could meet Coach Bueckers-”

“Claudia,” Stacie hisses as Azzi narrows her eyes at the woman.

“You said it’s cause you think she’s really hot-” Claudia manages to get out before her mother furiously clamps her hand over her mouth.

“Azzi,” Paige whispers under her breath, wincing slightly as the shooting guard unconsciously tightens her grip, unable to keep the irritation of her face as she all but glares at Claudia’s mother.

“You know kids, they say anything,” Stacie tries to justify, cowering under the sintering heat of Azzi’s stare.

“Right,” the brunette nods with faux understanding, “well if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time for us to go unless-” she turns her gaze onto Paige who looks innocently back at her as she hides a smile against Stephie’s stomach, “unless you’re still busy that is?”

Paige shakes her head affectionately as she tugs her arm out of Azzi’s grip, only so she can lock their pinkies together, the angle of it just out of Stephie’s line of sight, “never too busy for you,” she repeats, “let’s go.”

***

“Mama, will you tell Miss Buecks that I’m not speaking to her,” Stephie says as soon as the three of them get settled into the car.

“What,” Paige shrieks, twisting her head around to look at the little girl who decisively looks away, her tiny hands crossed over her chest.

“Stephie,” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, stretching her legs out in the passenger seat; Paige had insisted on driving this time and she hadn’t bothered fighting against it, “babes I thought you’d gotten over it? You were literally just talking to her.”

“That’s cause I forgot I was mad when Miss Buecks gave me my kisses but I rem-ber now,” Stephie explains.

“Remember what?” Paige asks frantically, “Stephie-bean what did I do?”

The little girl in question makes it a point to turn her nose up and look directly at Azzi as she answers, “Mama will you tell Miss Buecks that she knows what she did.”

“I really, really don’t. Stephie sweetheart please tell me so I can fix it,” Paige tries again, and Azzi lets herself marvel at how the normally jittery-woman seems to have endless patience for her little girl.

“YOU GAVE THE OTHER KIDS HIGH FIVES AND CUDDLES AND HUGS AND YOU EVEN LET CLAUDIA ONTO YOUR LAP,” Stephie bursts out emphatically, “you’re not supposed to do that with anyone but ME.”

“I-” Paige looks over helplessly at Azzi who holds her hands up in surrender, determined not to get in between the two of them and their dramatics.

“You didn’t even ask Uncle Twin to let me be on your team,” Stephie accuses and then like she’s suddenly remembered that she’d made a bold assertion a couple of minutes ago, “Mama could you please tell Miss Buecks that I said all of that.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I have a feeling she might have heard you.”

“Did you like the other kid’s hugs more than you like mine?” the little girl prods, her eyes suddenly glimmering with tears.

“Oh sweetheart of course not,” Paige consoles immediately, “I could never like anyone’s hugs more than yours, you know that. Your hugs are the best things in the whole wide world. And Stephie-bean, I thought you wanted to be with Uncle Twin, you said you missed him.”

“Wanted to be with you more,” Stephie pouts stubbornly, “I don’t wanna share my Miss Buecks with the other kids. I don’t want you to hug them or carry them and you definitely can’t give them kisses.”

“I didn’t even give any of them kisses,” Paige protests.

“Stephie, Miss Buecks is a person, not an object. She’s allowed to hug or carry or kiss-” Azzi tries to explain but is almost immediately interrupted by Stephie who gives her an unamused look.

“Well is she allowed to hug and carry and kiss Claudia’s Mama then?”

Azzi’s mouth falls open as Paige barely holds in her chuckle at the little girl’s cheeky question, “she absolutely is not allowed to do that.”

“Exactly,” there’s a satisfied grin on Stephie's face as she takes in the still dumbfounded expression on her mother’s face.

“I just- I meant the kids. She’s allowed to hug or carry or kiss the kids-”

“NO SHE’S NOT.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Paige moves her hands up and down in a calming gesture before she reaches for Stephie hands, “how about this? From now on, I won’t carry any of the other kids and I definitely won’t give them any kisses. But can I at least give them one hug? Just one tiny little hug?”

Stephie ponders over the request for a second, “okay,” she agrees finally, “but only one hug and it can’t be longer than three seconds okay? And then you come and give me three of them right after?”

“Done. I’ll come give you five hugs right after,” Paige grins happily as the two of them shake on it before she turns back around to start driving them towards her house.

“Mama you can tell Miss Buecks that I’m speaking to her again,” Stephie smiles toothily at Azzi through the rearview mirror.

“Really?” Azzi responds sarcastically, “I couldn't have guessed.”

“You know,” Paige drops her voice so Stephie can’t hear them, “you’re being pretty sassy for someone who was just as irrationally jealous as a five year old a couple of minutes ago.”

“I was not jealous,” Azzi says indignantly, repeating herself when Paige’s smirk deepens, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Paige, I was absolutely not jealous.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige hums quietly as she turns the music up in the car, grinning at Stephie through the mirror when one of their new favorites comes on.

Azzi preemptively covers her ears as her soft “oh please don’t start singing-” is immediately drowned out by the two other people in the car beginning to sing at the top of their voices. They barely know the lyrics and they’re definitely not on key and really Azzi’s poor ears are bleeding, but as she’s coerced into reluctantly joining in, she thinks this could still be her favorite sound in the whole wide world.

They’re so enthralled in their cacophony -in each other- as they pull up to Paige’s house, that it takes them a far longer than it should to notice the figure on her porch. It isn’t until they’ve parked in the driveway, and Azzi’s gone around to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag from the back while Paige lifts Stephie onto her shoulders, and they’re finally making their way up the three steps that lead to the deck, that they finally do.

All chatter comes to a halt as the boy -well that’s not quite right; not when he towers over Paige and Azzi as he stands up from where he’d been sitting on the lawn chair. It’s been almost four years since she’d last seen him in person and even then he’d been a fleeting face in the crowd. She’s seen plenty of his clips from the rookie year he’d just finished in the NBA but it isn’t the same as seeing him in the flesh now. So much has changed; the baby fat is gone from his face, he’s lankier and longer and there’s a discernible aura of confidence around him; as is expected from a 20 year old man. Yet, as Azzi lets her gaze wander over him, she sees what she’s always seen. She sees that same innocence, that same kindness, that same drive in his eyes that she’d always found reflected in his sister’s eyes too. She looks at him and she still sees a mini version of her Paige.

***

October 2022

“AZZI,” Drew screams as he runs across the arrival gate, his carry-on suitcase practically abandoned for the flight attendant with him to begrudgingly pick up.

“DREW,” Azzi’s smile widens as the little boy comes to a halt in front of her, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, “oh my god you’ve gotten so much bigger little dude.”

Drew scrunches his nose up at her, “you literally saw me like a month ago.”

“And I think you might have doubled in size since,” she ruffles his hair before turning to the flight attendant who’s not so subtly checking her out, “thank you so much for getting him here safely.”

“Oh just doing my duty m’am, especially for a pretty lady like you,” the man says and Azzi winces at his dated flirting technique.

“This is Azzi,” Drew introduces, irritation seeping into his voice as he tightens his grip on Azzi’s waist, “you know how I told you I’m flying out for my sister’s birthday, this is my sister’s girlfriend and it was her idea to fly me out to surprise my sister. Because you know she’s her girlfriend.”

“Right,” the man grimaces and Azzi has to bite back the laugh threatening to escape as he hastily hands Drew’s suitcase over before barely managing a half-hearted grin, “I um- uh- well I should get back to the uh- plane or something. Tell your- tell your sister happy birthday.”

“Thanks again,” Azzi calls after the man as he all but runs away from them, shaking her head fondly down at Drew who’s giggling into her side.

“You think if I tell Paige he flirted with you, she’d get him fired?” he asks cheekily.

“There’s a nonzero chance that she’d at least try,” Azzi agrees as the two of them start making their way out of the airport and towards her car.

It’s a chilly fall morning and the sun has barely risen in the sky but Drew seems more awake than ever as he practically bounces into the passenger seat, clearly excited to see his sister who has no inkling that he’s coming. The idea had come to Azzi a week or so ago as she’d racked her head for ideas of what to do for Paige for her birthday. She’d done a good job putting up a front for the rest of their team -avidly cheering for them from the sidelines during practice- but Paige had been struggling these last couple of weeks. Azzi knows firsthand what it’s like to watch everyone else play the sport she loves while nursing her own injury and no matter how many i’m fine don’t worry about me spiels she got from her girlfriend, Azzi knew it was killing the point guard to not be out there with their team.

If she could, Azzi would have liked to have miraculously fixed Paige’s torn ACL as her birthday gift but that was wishful thinking. So instead she’d decided on cheering Paige up with the other thing she loved more than playing basketball: spending time with her baby brother. It didn't take that much convincing to get Bob Bueckers -who’d seen just how despondent his daughter had been those first couple of weeks in that gloomy hotel- to allow Drew to take the first half of this week off of school. From then on, the main difficulty had been keeping it a secret from Paige who seemed to have sixth sense for when something was going on behind her back. It didn’t help that Drew had come close to spilling the beans more than a handful of times. But they’d somehow managed it and this morning, Azzi had rolled out of her girlfriend’s arms much earlier than she would have liked to, ready to give Paige the day she deserved.

She glances at the clock. It’s almost 8 and Azzi knows that Paige is probably beginning to stir awake. She can almost picture the likely confusion on her girlfriend’s as she’d reach out for Azzi, only to find the spot next to her empty. As if on cue, the sound of a phone ringing vibrates around the car and Drew’s eyes light up at Paige’s name flashing on the media-board.

“Don’t say a word,” Azzi warns him as she picks up the call.

“WHAT THE HELL AZZI. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Paige’s irritated voice echoes throughout the car, “DO YOU KNOW HOW RUDE IT IS TO MAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAKE UP ALONE IN THE MORNING? ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY?”

Despite Azzi’s warning, Drew snickers loud enough for the speakers to pick it up and the brunette fights the urge to hit her head against the steering wheel when Paige lets out a dramatic gasp.

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU WITH ANOTHER GIRL. ON MY BIRTHDAY?”

“No Paige I am not with another girl-”

“Well it sounds like there’s a girl with you.”

Drew opens his mouth to protest, clearly agitated with his voice potentially being mistaken for a girl’s but Azzi’s quicker, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth.

“I am not with-”

“Wait. Why did that voice sound so familiar?” Paige asks and Azzi can picture her scrunching her nose through the phone, “it can’t be any of the girls. I think I saw all of them in their apartments while I was looking for you but it sounds so-”

“It’s no one,” Azzi says hurriedly, “I’m just picking up something for your birthday.”

“I don’t want anything for my birthday,” Paige grumbles, “just wanted to wake up to my beautiful gorgeous girlfriend but no, you couldn’t just let me have that.”

A soft blush, tinted with hues of you make my imperfection feel perfect, creeps up Azzi’s cheeks as Drew teasingly waggles his eyebrows at her, “I promise I have something even better for you.”

“What could possibly be better than morning se-”

“Celebratory cuddles. Right yes what could be better than morning celebratory cuddles,” Azzi babbles, ignoring the weird look Drew gives her as she tries to prevent them from falling in the ditch her girlfriend is unknowingly about throw them into, “oh my won’t you look at that, that sign has all the reasons I shouldn’t try to talk and drive.”

“Baby what? Are you having a stroke. That’s not a thing-

“Oh it totally is and I really have to hang up. Love you baby, see you soon!’

“Azzi-” a loud beep rings through Paige’s protests as Azzi rushes to cut the call, slumping back in her seat with a sigh.

“Morning celebratory cuddles?” if she wasn’t so embarrassed she would laugh at the side-eye Drew shoots her, “y’all are so weird.”

“Watch it. I will send you back to Minnesota.”

“No you won't,” it’s uncanny how Drew has Paige’s exact smile as he goofily grins at her, “you love Paigey way too much to do that to me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, “yeah maybe just a little bit.”

There’s peaceful silence in the car for a while as Drew leans back in his seat, looking thoughtfully out the window. Azzi feels excitement bubble in her stomach in anticipation for Paige’s reaction to seeing her little brother. For as long as she’s known her girlfriend, she’s always known just how special Drew is to her; he’d been more a child to her than a brother and although it hasn’t been that long since Paige has seen him, Azzi could still hear the wistfulness in her voice every night she’d said good-bye to him on the phone. She feels giddy just knowing that seeing Drew again will put that earnest, loving smile she loves so much on Paige’s face. That smile, Azzi thinks, might just be the reason her world keeps turning.

“Hey Azzi?” Drew says slowly, “can I ask you something?”

“Course you can kid. You can ask me whatever you want,” Azzi reaches out to squeeze the little boy’s hand as he fidgets in his seat.

“Do you-” he hesitates, sucking in a deep breath, “do you think two people can stay together forever?”

Azzi’s taken aback by the gravity of the question, not having expected to deal with heavy-hitting ones like this so early in the morning. And really the truth is Azzi doesn’t know how to answer this question. It’s the kind of question her own brain conjures up sometimes and she has to distract herself from the way it makes her heart constrict because what if two people can’t stay together forever?

“That’s a heavy question,” she says finally, “where’s this coming from?”

Drew shrugs and his tone teeters on the edge of defensiveness when he answers, “just some things I think about sometimes.”

“I don’t know,” she says carefully, “I’d like to think some people can. I mean my parents have been together for a really long time and I’d like to think they’ll stay together forever.”

“How about you and Paigey?” Drew prods.

There’s an answer of yes that tastes like asphalt on the top of Azzi’s tongue and so much of her wants to spit it out and have that be the answer she gives Drew. But there are these uneasy shackles of uncertainty, of what if’s, of who knows what the future could do to us, that stops her. And she doesn’t know why she’s so scared of saying yes. Because if she’s honest with herself Azzi can’t really fathom a forever without her girlfriend; not when sometimes it feels like instead of a heart, it’s Paige that beats rhythmically against her ribcage.

“I really, really hope so,” she whispers.

“Azzi,” Drew’s voice is coated in sincerity and the brunette hums in response, “you won’t ever hurt my Paigey will you?”

And there it is again, the unpredictability of what could happen next that’s beginning to feel a little suffocating. She wants to give Drew a resounding no because Azzi would rather drive a dagger through her skin before letting Paige get so much as a paper cut but life is so fickle and she’s scared of making a promise she can’t keep. So she makes one that she swears she can.

“I promise that I will try my absolute best not to hurt your Paigey.”

***

May 2033

“Well,” Drew Bueckers sneers, his tone filled with contempt as he takes in the way Paige, Azzi and Stephie are practically wrapped into each other, don’t you guys just look so fucking cozy.”

There’s a sinister tension-filled quiet as the three adults -god it’s weird to include Drew as an adult but Azzi supposes that that’s what he is now- look between each other.

“Umm you owe me a kiss,” Stephie cuts into the silence.

“What?” Drew scrunches his face at the little girl.

“You said a bad word,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “and Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. So Miss Buecks,” Drew's eyes narrow at the nickname as the little girl lightly taps Paige’s shoulder, “can you turn around and move closer so he can give me a kiss?”

“You don’t, you don’t have to do that-” Azzi tries to intervene.

“Yes he does Mama,” Stephie interupts her indignantly, “rules are rules right?’

“Stephie-”

“Rules are rules,” it’s Drew who cuts Azzi off this time, his previously stoic face morphing into something warmer as he takes a step closer to her daughter and presses his lips against her turned cheek, “there you go. Am I forgiven for saying a bad word now?”

Stephie grins up at him and Azzi feels a wave of this is how it always should have been pinching at her heart she watches the two of them.

“You’re forgiven but you have to promise not to do it again.”

“I don’t make promises like that kid,” there’s an unspoken accusation as Drew keeps up a smile towards Stephie but his eyes dart for the briefest second towards the two women around him, “but I promise I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Stephie accepts happily as she reaches over Paige’s shoulder to press her own lips against Drew’s cheek.

“What was that for?’ he asks a little dazedly.

Stephie shrugs, “because I think I’m gonna like you.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers finally, gently letting the little girl off of her shoulders, “what are you- what are you doing here?”

“What? A guy can’t just come visit his sister anymore?” there’s an unfamiliar hard edge to Drew’s voice -a stark contrast from how he’d been with Stephie- that makes Azzi flinch.

“Of course he can but I just- you didn’t- you didn’t tell me you were coming,” Paige presses.

“Well we've been talking about me coming down for a while but it just hasn’t happened and so I thought- I thought why not just come surprise you but-” Drew purses his lips as he gestures to the trio in front of him, “I think I might be the one who’s surprised.”

“Drew-”

“Actually you know what no,” he clenches his jaw, voice dripping with barely controlled anger, “I’m actually not surprised. Not surprised at all. Because really this- this is exactly what I should have expected from the two of you.”

“Maybe,” Azzi nibbles at her bottom, “maybe we should go-’

“NO,” both Stephie and Paige yell out in tandem as the little girl immediately clutches onto the blonde’s thighs.

“I don’t wanna go. Miss Buecks tell Mama I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re staying right here with me,” Paige reassures the little girl as she turns her gaze back to Azzi, “you’re not going anywhere okay?”

“Paige-”

“I asked you to stay tonight and you’re going to stay. End of discussion,” Paige says firmly and Azzi lets out a reluctant sight.

“You asked her to stay? As in stay the night? Oh my god,” Drew scoffs maliciously.

“Drew,” there’s a warning tone in Paige’s voice as she deattaches herself from Stephie, keeping her voice low, “not right now okay?”

Her brother rolls his eyes, grunting out a “whatever,” but listening to his older sister like he always had and suddenly Azzi feels nostalgic for the little boy she had once known.

“You’re so tall,” she blurts out, grimacing slightly when he turns to her with a frown.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean I knew that. I’ve seen some of your highlights and I knew I mean- I knew you were taller and that you’ve gotten bigger and that you’d look stronger and all of that but I just-” Azzi gulps between her babbling, “you just- you look different Drew.”

There’s a shine of warmth in Drew’s gaze for a second but it flickers away faster than it had appeared and his eyes are cold with flecks of betrayal as he looks at Azzi, “that’s what happens as people get older isn’t it? I wouldn’t look so different to you if you’d been around to see me grow up.”

There’s venom laced in every word and Paige immediately opens her mouth to argue with him, but Azzi wraps a hand around her wrist to stop her. Because even if the words seep into her skin and infect it with bruises of guilt and regret, Azzi thinks she probably deserves them. She’d been in Drew’s world for so long and then one day, she just hadn’t been. She thinks he probably could have spewed something even more poisonous and she just might have deserved that too.

“Are you sleeping over too, Uncle Drew?” Stephie asks softly, unaffected by the tenseness of the adults around her.

“Uncle Drew?” Drew asks slowly.

Stephie nods with a grin, “Miss Buecks called you Drew and that’s when I figured it out. Mama and Miss Buecks have told me stories about you and there’s some pictures of you from when you were littler at Nana and Pop's house,” she rambles and Drew’s eyes soften at the idea of Stephie knowing of his existence, “ and just in case you don’t know who I am even though you should,” she gives him a pointed look as if everyone should know who the little girl is, “I’m Stephie. And you’re my Miss Buecks’s brother so that means you’re my Uncle Drew.”

“Right that um-” Drew clears his throats, “that makes sense Stephie.”

“So Uncle Drew, are you sleeping over too?”

“Yeah, yeah I guess I am.”

“YAY!” Stephie squeals as she laces her fingers through Drew and begins to pull him towards the front door, “so Uncle Drew what’s your favorite pizza topping?”

Something wonderful flutters in Azzi’s chest as she watches the two of them interact -it’s a little bit like seeing the past and present harmonically blend into one- but despite that, despite the reassurance that Paige squeezes against her hand, there’s an uneasiness lingering in the back of her mind. That wretched but familiar fear of the future weaves itself through her heart. Between the frostiness from Drew and whatever secret Paige is keeping from her, Azzi can’t help but wonder if these last couple of weeks had simply been a mirage. She can’t help but wonder if this bubble of happiness that they’ve built is about to be burst by a needle of circumstance again.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

218 notes · View notes

domm1etae · 1 day

Text

in every shape

mingi x f!reader

oneshot | mdni

2.3k

Mingi’s gained some weight since the tour began, and he’s struggling with his body image. But to you, he’s never looked better, and you can’t resist showing him just how irresistible he really is

nsfw tags under

f/m, top mingi, pet names, i love yous, praises, body worship, oral sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, teasing, size kink, multiple orgasms, neck kissing

Mingi stood in front of the hotel room mirror, eyes roaming over his reflection, his shoulders slumping slightly. He was quiet, but you could sense the tension radiating off him. After a moment, he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

"I need to lose weight."

You perked up from where you were lounging on the bed, pretending you hadn’t heard his whispered confession. "Hmm? What did you say?" Your voice was gentle, curious, hoping he’d say it again, though the truth behind his words already tugged at your heart.

He hesitated, biting his lip as he turned to glance at you, his expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "I said…" He exhaled sharply. "I need to lose weight." His hand swept over his body as if emphasizing the problem, a soft growl of irritation escaping him. "I don’t know how I let myself get like this. I didn’t even realize…"

You sat up on the bed, your gaze soft as you crawled to the edge and reached for him, your fingers toying with the hem of his oversized shirt. "Get like what, Mingi? Like you don’t look absolutely delicious?" A teasing grin played on your lips, hoping to ease the tension building in his mind.

He scoffed, but it lacked conviction, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I’ve gained weight, babe. I mean, look at me." He waved a hand down his body in frustration. "I’m not in shape like I was before the tour. I just—" He sighed again, cutting himself off, clearly struggling to find the right words.

You shake your head at him, your heart aching a little at his self-doubt. Pulling at the fabric of his shirt, you expose a sliver of his skin. "Oh, I’m looking, trust me." You raise an eyebrow at him, slowly kissing the exposed skin. "And what I see is a man who looks damn good."

His body stiffened slightly at your touch, his breath catching. "Sexy?" he echoed, disbelief written all over his face. "I don't think that's the word you’re looking for. I’ve been eating too much, barely working out… I don’t feel like myself anymore."

You sit back a little, taking in the sight of him. He had filled out a bit, his broad frame looking a little softer, his thighs thicker, and his stomach no longer as flat as it once was. But he still looked amazing to you, more than amazing. "Mingi, you’re still so damn sexy. You look healthy. Honestly, I don’t even think you realize how much harder it is for me to keep my hands off you."

He snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Healthy? I feel heavy. I hate it."

You tug his shirt up a little higher, planting a few more kisses along his belly. "Heavy, maybe. But heavy can be hot, and you? You’re making it very hot." Your voice lowered into a sultry purr as your lips lingered on his skin.

He seemed to hesitate, torn between what he saw in the mirror and what you were saying. "You’re just saying that to make me feel better…" His fingers brushed through your hair, his tone soft but uncertain.

You hummed in response, your hands sliding up his thighs. "Oh no, I’m not. Trust me, I’m saying this because I can’t stop thinking about how good you look right now. I’ve been trying to keep my hands to myself, but…" You give his hips a gentle tug, pulling him closer. "Why should I when you look this damn good?"

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to argue, but when your lips trailed down to his waistband, the words seemed to slip from his mind. He watched you, his breathing growing heavier, but he couldn’t help one last protest. "I don’t… understand why you think this is attractive."

You pull back slightly and meet his gaze, your eyes filled with sincerity. "Because, Mingi, you're more than just some perfectly sculpted figure. You look strong, healthy, like you’re actually taking care of yourself. I love this… I love you, no matter what you think of yourself." You smiled up at him, pressing one more kiss to his stomach. "You’re sexy just as you are, but if you want to lose weight, that’s your choice. I’m just saying… I like you this way."

His face softened, though the doubt still lingered in his expression. "You really mean that?"

"Every word," you answer, pulling him towards you until he was close enough for you to wrap your arms around his waist. "Now come here. Let me show you how much I love this body of yours."

He let out a soft, surprised laugh as you began tugging at his waistband, a mix of uncertainty and curiosity in his eyes as you unbuttoned his jeans. "Y-you don’t have to do this…"

You shook your head, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, but I want to." Mingi’s breath hitched as you slid his jeans down his hips, revealing the hard lines of his thighs. He shifted awkwardly, unsure of how to react. His fingers twitched as he stared down at you, still hesitant despite the heat building between you.

"You know you drive me crazy, right?" you say softly, trailing your hands over the firm muscles of his thighs. "I’m not doing this to make you feel better. I’m doing this because I want to. You look so damn good, and I’ve missed you."

Mingi let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his muscles visibly relaxing as your words sank in. He still seemed unsure, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable as you ran your tongue teasingly along the edge of his waistband.

His voice was shaky when he spoke again, "I… don’t get why you like this version of me so much." He groaned softly as your hands slid higher, gently squeezing his hips. "I thought you’d prefer me the way I used to be—leaner, fitter."

You paused, looking up at him with a serious expression. "Mingi, I didn’t fall in love with just your body. I fell for you." You pressed a soft kiss against his skin, right where his waistband met his lower abdomen, your lips lingering as if to emphasize your words. "You’re sexy no matter what shape you’re in, but this?" You tugged lightly at his underwear, your breath ghosting over his skin. "This body is just as perfect as any other version of you."

Mingi shuddered at the contact, and finally, his hands found your shoulders, pulling you up gently so he could look you in the eyes. "I don’t think I deserve you," he muttered, his voice low and sincere. "You’re too good to me."

"You deserve everything," you whisper back, brushing your lips lightly against his. "And I’m going to keep proving that to you." With that, you deepen the kiss, your hands working to slide his underwear down and free his length.

His breath hitched again as your fingers ghosted over him, his body trembling in anticipation. But just before you could lower yourself again, he gently tugged you back up. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes dark with something more than just lust—something deeper, more vulnerable.

"Babe, wait." Mingi’s voice was soft, but his grip on your wrists was firm as he held you there, his gaze locking with yours. "I… I want to make you feel good too."

You blinked at him, surprised. "You don’t have to—"

"I want to," he cut you off, his expression serious as he gently pushed you down onto the bed, flipping the roles. His lips brushed your ear as he leaned over you, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "You’ve been so focused on me… but I want to focus on you now."

You let out a small gasp as he pinned your wrists above your head, his body pressing against yours, the heat radiating off him in waves. "M-Mingi…" You tried to form a coherent sentence, but the feel of his lips trailing along your neck made it impossible to focus.

"I’m not done with you yet," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. He kissed his way down your throat, his free hand sliding under your shirt and gently squeezing your breast. "You thought I’d just let you do all the work?"

His lips found the sensitive skin at the base of your neck, sucking lightly and leaving a mark that made your breath hitch. "Y-you’re such a tease…" you manage to gasp, your back arching as his hand slid lower, teasing the waistband of your pants.

Mingi smirked against your skin, his kisses growing rougher as his free hand slipped inside your pants, his fingers brushing over the damp fabric of your underwear. "And you love it," he growled playfully, his voice dripping with confidence now, the self-doubt from earlier starting to fade away.

You let out a needy whimper as he ran his fingers teasingly along your slit, the friction making your hips buck against his hand. "Stop… teasing…" you pleaded, your voice breathless.

He chuckled softly, his lips finding your ear as he nipped lightly at your earlobe. "I like it when you beg." His fingers pressed more firmly against your core, making you cry out softly in response.

"Mingi, please…" you moaned, your body writhing beneath him as he finally slid your underwear to the side and ran his fingers over your soaked folds.

The deep groan that escaped his throat at the feel of you only made the heat in your belly grow. "God, you're so wet," he muttered, his voice low and rough as he slipped a finger inside you, earning a gasp from your lips.

Your hands, still pinned above your head, clenched into fists as you squirmed beneath him, desperately craving more. "Mingi, I—"

"You’re so sensitive," he murmured, slipping another finger inside you and curling them just right. His thumb rubbed slow, torturous circles over your clit, and your back arched, your body reacting to his every touch.

"I-I can’t…" you whimpered, your head falling back against the pillows as your body trembled.

"You can," Mingi whispered, his voice soothing but filled with desire. His lips found yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans as he sped up his fingers, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me."

That was all it took. His fingers thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot, and your entire body convulsed as you came hard around him. A loud cry of his name tore from your throat as the pleasure washed over you, your body trembling beneath him.

Mingi watched you intently, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as you fell apart in his arms. "That’s my girl," he murmured softly, slowing his movements to let you ride out your orgasm.

You were still panting, your body twitching with aftershocks as he pulled his hand from you and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a low groan. "You taste so good," he muttered, his voice thick with lust as he looked down at you, still flushed and breathless.

Before you could even recover, he was back on you, his lips pressing hot kisses down your chest, leaving a trail of heat along your skin. "Mingi…" you breathed, your voice shaky as he hovered over you, his gaze intense.

"You didn’t think we were done, did you?" he teased, his breath hot against your skin. He positioned himself between your legs, his length pressing against your dripping entrance. "I’m just getting started."

Before you could respond, he slid into you with one hard, smooth thrust, both of you gasping at the overwhelming pleasure. His hips snapped forward, setting a relentless pace, and the only sounds in the room were the sound of your moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin.

Mingi’s head tilted back, his lips parted as he let out a deep, guttural groan, the feeling of you wrapped around him driving him wild. "Fuck, babe…" he grunted, his hands gripping your hips as he pounded into you harder, deeper.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggled to keep up with the intensity. "Mingi… I-I’m close again," you whimpered, your body already on the verge of another orgasm.

"Come for me again," he growled, his hand slipping between your bodies to rub fast circles over your clit. "I want to feel you come around me."

The heat in your belly exploded, and with one final thrust, you screamed his name as you came hard around him, your walls fluttering and clenching down on his length.

Mingi groaned loudly, the sensation of you tightening around him sending him over the edge. With a few more rough thrusts, he followed you into release, his hips jerking as he filled you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, Mingi collapsed beside you, both of you panting heavily. He pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your skin still tingling from the intensity of it all.

"Maybe… I won’t worry so much about the weight," Mingi whispered, his breath still ragged. His fingers traced lazy circles on your arm as he cuddled you close.

You smiled, snuggling into his chest. "Good. Because you’re perfect just the way you are."

He let out a small chuckle, pressing another kiss to your temple. "If this is how you’re going to convince me, I might never work out again."

You laugh softly, playfully swatting his chest. "Oh no, I didn’t say all that."

Mingi grinned down at you, his eyes warm and filled with affection. "Either way… thank you. For everything."

You kissed his chest softly, nuzzling into him with a content sigh. "I love you, Mingi. Just remember that."

"I love you too, babe," he whispered, pulling you even closer as you both drifted off into a peaceful, satisfied sleep.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #mingi #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #mingi smut #kpop #kpop smut #atz #smut #mingi x reader #song mingi #ateez mingi #x reader #x yn #y/n

191 notes · View notes

lilacgaby · 1 day

Text

˗ˏˋ🧸 bows and bottles ౨ৎ

pairing: girldad!megumi x wife!reader

summary: megumi had been shocked by you multiple times this year. finding out you were pregnant? a shocker. with a girl though? even more shocking. good thing he was a natural.

tags: pet names, pregnancy, afab!reader, domestic au, marriage, insecurities, fluff

(a/n: another lovely ask by @lexiene !! i think every jjk character is a girldad personally )

those two lines you showed to him changed the course of his life.

he was nervous sure, but you being there always calmed him down. he examined the rest of the items you'd placed in the gift box one by one, noting the gender-neutral clothing.

"you don't know the gender yet?"

"no silly! i'm only like.. a month. i think i have to be eighteen weeks or something to know."

"oh, okay."

"are you hoping for a gender?" you asked, moving your legs to face him on the couch.

"no, as long as they're healthy." he answered honestly, though the thought of having a girl did make him feel a bit nervous.

"hm, okay."

the weeks working up to the appointment you'd made were nerve wracking for megumi. you'd only been suffering mild symptoms of nausea and fatigue, so he'd been at your hand and feet most days.

the months had passed and your bump had grew. he'd been an angel for you, never letting you complain for more than a couple seconds. he'd wake up in the middle of the night and cook for you if you needed, he just wanted you and his kid to be safe.

as he drove to the appointment, reality set into him. you were having his baby, and they were going to find out the gender right now.

but an idea struck you in the car. "hey, how about we have them keep it a secret? we can have a fun little gender reveal party."

he physically slumped at the idea, relaxing a bit. "yeah, sounds good. but a small party, gojo is way too much of a lightweight for a huge one like last time."

you laughed at the memory, looking out the window as you held megumi's hand close to your thigh.

the visit at the doctor's was quick, they put the results of the ultrasound into an envelope for you two, and let you take home dozens of copies of the scans.

you went home content, smiling brightly as you looked over the pictures.

"they have your nose." you said out of the blue.

"you can't even tell that, it's a scan."

"yes i can."

"whatever you say."

the next week you had a small get together with some of your friends and megumi's. you wore a plain white dress since you didn't mind if it was a boy or a girl, and megumi wore a white button-up.

gojo wore a pink shirt, and argued with yuuji who was wearing a blue shirt.

nobara was carrying bags and bags of baby supplies, but was also wearing a pink shirt.

nanami was there holding a small gift box, he wore a white button-up with a pink tie.

they, along with some of your family, all held up confetti poppers. at the count of three they blew them up, pink confetti flying everywhere.

as gojo and nobara high fived each other, cheering at how they were right, you and megumi hugged eachother.

you now were able to go crazy, making everything really cute and pink for your little daughter. bows and bunnies scattered her nursery, pink flowers painted all over the walls.

cute rugs and rocking chairs, even her crib got a princess canopy.

nobara had gotten you the cutest little dresses and shoes, in the tiny box nanami had gotten for your baby girl it was little earrings. pure gold with a gemstone of her assumed birthmonth.

the months passed by really quickly, megumi kept his missions to a minimum so he could stay clung to your side.

he was a saint like always, holding your bump up for you to give you a few moments of relief, massaging parts of your body, he'd always be there for you.

but your little girl was stubborn and refused to come out. when he thought you were sleeping he'd speak to her, ask her nicely to come out tomorrow, speak about how excited he was to see her.

after a couple nights of that and morning walks? your water broke. he grabbed the overnight bag and made it to the driveway, only to realize..

he forgot you. oops.

picking up an annoyed you, he made it to the car and drove as fast as he could safely.

you delivered your baby safely, megumi thinking his wrist was going to snap from how hard you had it in your grip. he rolled his eyes though, because you were right.

she did have his nose. and his hair color, and his eyes. but she had your skin color, your lips, your eyebrows.

she was adorable.

she slept the whole day, not waking up unless she was woke up by you or him. she was an angel. barely ever crying.

he was relieved to find that she had your demeanor, your expressiveness that was more than just a straight demeanor most of the time.

he was the happiest when he looked into her and saw you, features of you that worked so harmoniously with his.

she was perfect.

she definitely had a favorite. spoiler alert: it wasn't you.

she always giggled when megumi was around, her first word was papa, much to your dismay. she clung to him all day, he was a natural at everything after all.

whenever he'd go on missions she'd cry, him having to call you just so she could fall asleep.

when she became a toddler? she'd run to the door to greet him everytime he'd come back. staying up past her bedtime just to see him.

but always passing out in his arms, wanting to stay by his side as she slept.

he'd do her hair once it was long enough. she begged and begged for him to learn how to braid, and after much consultation he learned.

he was there with her when she got her ears pierced, holding her hand as the needle went through her ear. it didn't hurt, but the numbing sensation felt weird. she wore the golden earrings she was gifted 5 years ago with pride, almost convincing megumi to get his ears pierced too.

almost.

she had him wrapped around her finger, doing anything she wanted whenever. if she wanted a toy she had it the next day. she wanted to go somewhere? let's start planning a family trip.

he taught her how to read patiently, grabbing any number of baby books to help her piece together the words, clapping together when she read a page successfully.

they shared a sweet tooth, so most of time he'd 'sneak' her snacks. candy, lollipops, chocolate, cupcakes, they'd share them together and laugh because they thought you didn't notice.

they were like two peas in a pod, they acted exactly the same sometimes. shed repeat his sentences, the way he walked, and even his facial expressions.

she clung to you just as much though, don't get it confused. she loved your attention on her as much as he did, scrunching her face when you two kissed in front of her. her using her body to push you away and 'reprimand' megumi.

he loved his girls so much, he didn't think life could get any better than being sandwiched in between the two of you while you watched random movies in the living room.

but it magically did, when for his birthday he was gifted baby socks. "are you joking?" he said, hugging you both tightly.

"those are too small for him!"

"they aren't for him sweetheart."

with another baby girl on the way, and his two treasured ladies right beside him, he definitely thinks he was born for this.

to stand by all of your sides, forever.

#another megumi thank you #lilac asks❤︎︎#megumi x y/n #megumi :((((#megumi fluff #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro x reader

213 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 day

Note

could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333

thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k

You bend forward and breathe.

Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent.

Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks.

“Hotch?” you ask.

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?”

Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.”

You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.”

You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands.

Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it.

“What happened?”

“They were kissing.”

Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?”

“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…”

“Are you sure?”

“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…”

You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose?

“They were too close,” you say more firmly.

“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.”

“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon.

“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?”

“You think I’m overreacting.”

Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.”

You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?”

“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open.

“Well… perhaps you can–”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.”

You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

“What did JJ do?” you ask.

“Angel?”

He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.”

He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath.

“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence.

“I didn’t really look.”

Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.

“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.

“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says.

Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?”

You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm.

“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble.

Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy.

If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him.

“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks.

“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely.

Footsteps. A door opening.

You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?”

“Can you hug me?”

“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.”

“I am?”

“Just a little…”

You try your best to stand completely still.

“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.”

It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better.

“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.”

“Can I explain it to you later?”

“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile.

“Yeah.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says.

You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

680 notes · View notes

kumkaniudaku · 1 day

Text

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?"

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start."

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son.

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart.

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway.

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day."

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath.

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her."

"Being a man is about more than what you can do."

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options."

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy."

"And you too."

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food. "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass.

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to."

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her."

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?"

"Ah, Pop, I don-"

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called."

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life.

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat.

"What's this?"

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop."

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?"

"Pop."

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?"

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?"

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?"

"How would I know, though? How did you know?"

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years.

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…"

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state.

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?"

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know."

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love.

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat.

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality. She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor.

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women.

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive."

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice.

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door.

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life.

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you."

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar.

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest.

"We kissing in front of the parents now?"

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed.

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect."

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts.

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?"

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone.

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention.

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you."

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house.

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised."

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine.

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine.

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side.

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name.

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice.

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck.

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin.

"Already? It's not that late, is it?"

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up."

"I'll speak up. I promise."

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait.

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ. Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie."

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week.

"What's this?"

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use."

"When's the last time you used it?"

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?"

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall."

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity,

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm.

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind.

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well.

Desire.

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality.

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now.

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest.

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next.

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts.

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying.

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience.

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back.

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered.

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth.

"You trust me?"

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg.

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me."

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center.

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck.

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure.

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl.

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it."

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me."

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear.

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?"

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria.

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?"

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right."

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure.

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking.

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?"

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed.

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move."

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy.

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch.

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life.

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste.

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits.

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for.

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds.

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices.

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host.

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home.

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him.

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max.

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable.

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!"

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission.

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere.

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down.

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams.

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence.

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown.

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder.

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud.

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses.

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?"

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due.

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy."

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?"

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?"

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up."

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady.

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs.

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey."

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more."

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill.

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering.

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there."

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her.

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build.

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride

You check your mail?

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

154 notes · View notes