#i typed the first sentence of my response and was like oh.. baby no (me felix and festus screaming crying at that response)

[felixravinstills]

artemisia- 5, 14 & diana- 10, 23 for the OC ask game!

ask game

again, spoilers for my oc fics and also tw: mentions of physical abuse

Artemisia Click

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Hmmm, it depends? I think if her wants are the only thing that matters, then she'll go as far as necessary. If her wants conflict with someone's she cares about, then she'll compromise. For example, in Close Your Eyes, she breaks up with Felix, because she isn't convinced that he likes her romantically (she thinks he feels pressured to be with her which isn't 100% wrong). She knows that she wants to get married to escape her home life, but she is compromising with Felix's want (to not get married so young to someone he at this point isn't 100% sure at how he's feeling romantically without a reason). She'd probably prefer getting married to him (or Festus, not that she really clocks that at that point in the story) than anyone else, but she's not going to push him.

If Artemisia did, however, marry someone else and then later found out that Felix (and Festus) were romantically interested in her, well... Uh, cue the most scandalous affair that likely ends with the messiest divorce and then her hasty remarriage to Felix or Festus (probably Felix, it's the most strategic move). It's so scandalous, it's so sensational, the entire Capitol is agape. Everyone who knows them is like shocked at what happened but also somehow not surprised. If Artemisia's hypothetical husband isn't like Hilarius or someone that they grew up with and also isn't willing to divorce, that man's dead. Sorry hypothetical man in this barely fleshed out AU, you died.

tl;dr, she'll go all out if no one else (close friends or lovers) is holding her back to get what she wants

How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

I think she'd want to be seen as loveable. She wants to be important to some people, to matter. I think having suffered abuse from her father and then having most of Capitol society just ignore that. It did do a number on her self-worth. She hates people for not doing something, but in the back of her mind, she has the mentality where some abuse victims blame themselves for the actions of their abuser? she has that in her subconscious.

She doesn't care if people see her as weak or strong. She doesn't care if they think she's an idiot or smart. She just wants people to care.

Diana Ravinstill

What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

An AU where her parents aren't dead or irreversibly changed to be unable to fully parent properly would be great! How do I get there?

I just want to see Felix get to be an overprotective dad, and Festus to get to be a little less relaxed but also backup to Felix's shovel talk. I want whatever messy emotional conversations that can only happen between mothers and daughters to happen between Diana and Artemisia!

Also specifically, in an AU where the throuple somehow makes it to the 2nd Rebellion, and they get to meet Coin without being super not themselves anymore (Felix!). I think they'd have a(n awful) field day reacting to Diana's newest situationship.

Give Diana more time with her parents AUs would be great...

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Probably grief and sadness. Just the absolute mess of a childhood that she has in every universe ensures this.

I think grief gets so mixed with anger and resentment. She'd turn her sadness and grief into rage and lash out. That's what she does in most of the fics. Close Your Eyes! Diana hasn't put herself in a position to be able to lash out against the new government/the Mockingjay for Coin's death, so she sits and stews on her rage like Festus in the same fic. But! She does take her frustrations out on the Creeds ironically. She steals all their wealth. She's probably messing with them like I mess with Felix's extended family.

Diana bonds with Coin through rage filled grief. It's no surprise that Diana who in a better political position (like in It's Still You) tries to take her grief out on the rest of the country.

All That You Can Do! Diana's obviously a bit different from the others. Grief and sadness probably gets matched with a restless energy. She's not angry but she has to do something with her sadness. For her parents, she has to honor them (actually, at it's most extreme manifestation, this coincidentally manifests similarly to Felix's whole insecurity about not living up to the Ravinstill name)

...

Thanks for the asks! Again, a little distracted while answering so hopefully this makes sense!

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

no doubt ── s. jy

↳ summary ── struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you.

↳ pairing ── jake x f!reader, [ft. childhoodbestfriend!jungwon, bestfriends!enha]

↳ genre ── idol!jake, friends to lovers!au || angstttt, fluff, crack

↳ ✎ᝰ. 23.7k [never beating the allegations of getting too attached to my works and having too much fun writing i fear...]

↳ contains ── angst! very angsty but only after a lot of fluff...the cheesy cringe type but then it goes downhill real quick...but happy ending i swear!, mentions of insecurities, maybe one or two curse words, fic starts with jake dating og character named jenn, the use of pet names, jungwon practically plays therapist, jake is absolutely whipped for reader but is terrible at communication and a certified idiot . also jungwon is reader's best friend so the beginning sets up the context for that lolz

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── she's DONEEE [do u hear me crying in the background]...so some backstory lore abt this fic—basically two years ago i had a dream about the ~angsty scene~ of this fic and ever since then, i've had this itch of putting it into words. and when i finally decided to do it, no doubt came out and i thought it was literal fate since the lyrics match the vibe so well...don't tell me it isn't fate guys :') anyways..this is a little different than my typical writing style even though of course i had to include summm crack..but i am still nervous abt how it came out so i really really hope you guys like it :') thank u for all the support and love always <3

↳ update .ᐟ ── check out the sequel series of this fic here!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

You and Yang Jungwon were literally born to be best friends.  

Like, there was no other option.  

Your mom? Their high school's poster child for academic perfection—top of her class, president of every club imaginable, a certified teacher's pet.  

Jungwon's mom? Their high school's unofficial social chair—life of the party, karaoke queen, probably responsible for half the faculty's headaches. 

Nothing alike. 

So naturally, of course, they were inseparable. By their junior year, they'd already started planning their futures together, including one very specific and totally realistic goal that all teenage girl best friends make when they're young:  

"We should have our first kids around the same time and force them to be best friends!"  

"Oh my gosh, yes," Jungwon's mom agreed enthusiastically. "Like, we'll make them share everything! Matching outfits, playdates, joint birthday parties!"  

But what your moms didn't realize as they were giggling over the playful promise that probably didn't hold any meaning to them at the age of 17? 

The universe was taking notes.  

So fast forward a couple decades later, and there you were, baby best friends from birth, fulfilling the shared dream of your mothers—the true puppeteers in this scenario.  

All your moms had to do was execute their promise as planned, but the rest of it? The rest of it was easy.  

You and Jungwon clicked before you even knew what words were, communicating in a series of shared giggles and unintelligible baby noises. By the time you turned two, you were finishing each other's sentences in your made-up gibberish language, and by preschool, the bond was unshakable. 

You two—just like your moms—were inseparable.  

By high school, everyone knew you were a package deal—where you went, Jungwon followed, and vice versa. So, when he announced your sophomore year that he was leaving to compete on a televised idol survival show, you were, understandably, skeptical.  

"Are you sure it's not a scam?" You had asked, rolling lazily around on his bed while he scrambled around his room, packing his bags.  

"It's not a scam," Jungwon laughed, carefully folding his clothes. 

"Did they ask for your social security number?"  

"Y/N."  

"Exactly. I'm just saying—if you end up on one of those exposé documentaries about fake talent shows, don't say I didn't warn you."  

Despite your teasing, you knew how much this meant to him. Jungwon had been dreaming about being in the music spotlight since he figured out how to work a karaoke machine at the age of six.  

So when he eventually did make his debut with his group, you weren't surprised at all—it was inevitable, written in the stars, just like how your friendship with him was.

What did surprise you, though, was how seamlessly you got roped into his new world.  

Sure, Jungwon's life got infinitely busier overnight, but there is no universe that exists in which he'd forget about you—his non-conjoined twin, ride-or-die, and ultimate life-long nuisance (his words, not yours).  

And so naturally, you became an honorary member of this new life of his. The boys' practice studio might as well be your new home—the endless days camping out on the floor of their dance studio with your head in your textbooks while they drilled their choreography for the hundredth time proved that. Or maybe how you crash on their dorm couch so often that Sunoo coined you your new nickname: their unofficial eighth member.  

Which brings you to now: a marketing major by day, unofficial idol by night, and, as always, a certified magnet to chaos.

Case in point? Whatever madness was happening around you at this exact moment.  

"Okay, but hear me out," Heeseung says, gesturing dramatically with his pizza slice—one of many scattered across the coffee table everyone was sitting around. "Pineapple is the perfect combination of sweet and savory—"  

"It's a crime against humanity," Sunghoon cuts in. 

Tomorrow? The boys leave for their five-month tour.  

Tonight? Tonight is tradition: the pre-tour pizza bash.  

Naturally, it's chaos, as no one has bothered with the last-minute packing they're supposed to be doing.  

Not a single bag is packed.  

"It's fruit on bread," you scrunch your nose, taking a bite of your own normal pepperoni pizza. "This isn't dessert, Hee."  

"Thank you!" Sunghoon reaches across the table to high-five you. 

From the couch behind you, Jake chuckles and nudges your back with his knee, "Big talk coming from someone who claims pickles belong on everything."  

"Uh, because they do," you whip your head around to glare at him. "Pickles are versatile."  

"Versatile my ass," Jungwon mumbles from his spot beside you. "I love you, but you're deranged."  

"Look who's talking, Mr. 'I-put-hot-sauce-on-everything'," you shoot back, eyes narrowing at your best friend. Everyone chuckles from around the table at your dramatic, yet endearing, overreaction. 

"Hot sauce is different," Jay chimes in without even looking up from his phone. "It's an enhancer."  

"Pickles enhance flavor too!"  

"By making everything taste like vinegar," Sunoo deadpans from your other side. "Gross."  

"Whatever," you roll your eyes. "You're all uncultured."  

"And you're a menace," Jake quips from behind you, his voice dripping with amusement. You don't even have to turn around to see the smirk on his face—you can hear it loud and clear. 

"Careful, Sim," you say with a sly glance over your shoulder. "Keep talking, and I'll start adding pickle juice to your coffee."  

The room fills with laughter, but before Jake can fire back, his phone buzzes aggressively against the couch. You watch him glance down at his screen before his playful smile instantly fades.  

"I'll be right back," Jake mutters, getting up and heading towards the kitchen without another word.  

You frown as you watch him disappear around the corner, the sudden shift in his mood gnawing at you, and you can't help but wonder what's gotten under his skin. 

After a few more minutes of heated debates over pizza toppings—and yet another round of everyone ganging up on your weird pickle obsession—you decide it was time for a drink refill.  

Excusing yourself, you step into the kitchen, only to find Jake leaning against the counter, his arms crossed and gaze fixed on the empty wall in front of him. His phone sits abandoned on the counter, screen dark.  

"Jake?" You call out softly, approaching slowly. 

Your voice breaks through his haze, his expression flickering as he registers you standing in the doorway, your brows furrowed in concern.  

"What's going on?" You ask, moving closer to stand in front of him.   

"Nothing," Jake says too quickly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

You give him a look and he knows that you know he's lying, "Jake.."  

He exhales, his expression crumbling as he runs a hand through his hair, "Just...Jenn called."  

Ah. Of course. Jenn.  

You almost flinch at the sound of the name, the weight it carries instantly souring your stomach. Jake's on-again, off-again girlfriend of two years was a constant source of heartbreak—not just for the poor boy, but for the entire group who helped pick up the pieces of his broken heart after every messy break-up…and even messier make-up.  

"She broke up with me," Jake admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "For real this time. Something about me leaving for tour and how it wasn't going to work out."  

Your heart hurts at the sight of him in front of you—shoulders slumped, hands nervously twisting the hem of his shirt, as if trying to distract himself from the conversation.  

"Oh, Jake...," you murmur, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as you lean against the counter next to him.  

"I'm fine," he insists, waving it off, but the expression on his face clearly betrays him.  

"No, you're not," you say, trying to catch his eyes. "And that's okay."  

Jake lets out a shaky breath, finally looking up from the ground to look at you, before shrugging, "I don't even know why I’m surprised. We've been...really off for a while now. Like, more than usual. But still, it sucks."  

“Of course, it sucks," you nod, agreeing softly. "You guys were together for a long time. You cared about her."  

For a moment, the two of you sit in a heavy silence with an unspoken understanding, the only sounds coming from the muffled chatter and laughter in the other room. You stay close, letting him process without pushing further.  

Still, you can't entirely suppress the annoying flare of emotions bubbling in your chest—a tangled knot of sympathy and…something else. Relief, maybe? Not that you would ever wish any sort of pain on Jake—but you hate the way Jenn always leaves him like this: drained, doubting himself, and trying to piece together what went wrong, where he went wrong. 

"Come back to the living room," you say finally, nudging his side gently. "Ni-ki is freaking out over which hoodies to pack. And I swear, they're all the same black hoodie."  

Jake lets out a small, tired laugh, "You don't need me for that. He's gonna end up packing all of them, just watch."  

"You don't know that," you tease. "Besides, I need someone's back up to help me convince him he's not actually going through an emo phase."  

His eyes carry a faint smile as he looks at you, the corners of his lips lifting just enough to remind you of the warmth he usually carries.  

"Okay," he says in a whisper, pushing himself off the counter.  

You start towards the doorway, forgetting about your drink refill entirely, but his voice stops you.  

"Y/N?"  

You turn to find him still standing there, his eyes filled with warmth and appreciation.  

"Thanks," he adds, a small smile on his face. It's such a simple statement, but the way he says it—soft, sincere, and maybe just a little desperate—makes something twist in your stomach. "For just...always being here."  

You smile back up at the boy, "Of course, Jake. I'll always be here for you. You know that."  

For a moment, he holds your gaze, as if taking a mental note of something. Then he nods, his shoulders relaxing.

"Okay," he says, exhaling as he gestures toward the doorway. "Let's go.”

You follow behind the boy back to the living room, silently hoping he knows just how much you mean your promise to him.  

Jake's body is on autopilot at this point.  

Another city, another show, another string of flashing lights and deafening cheers. It's a month into tour, and the endless loop of responsibilities has left him no room to just breathe.  

And he loves this life—he really does. But tonight, for reasons he can't explain, the adrenaline that usually keeps him afloat isn't enough. Pure exhaustion lingers in his bones, heavier than the applause and screams echoing in his memory, and he just can’t seem to shake it. 

When his head finally hits the stiff hotel pillow, Jake exhales with a heavy sigh. The city around him is alive, the neon lights brightly dancing against his windowpane, but he feels none of it. 

Instead? He just feels the weight of homesickness and the ache of being alone. 

Normally, he would push through, shove these thoughts into the back of his mind, call it a night. But tonight, the ache feels different—sharper, louder—and before he knows it, his phone is in his hand before he can talk himself out of it, his thumb hovering over your name on his screen. 

A familiar battle wages in his mind, one he’s been battling more recently ever since tour became a little heavier on him. Slowly, the quiet yearning has been creeping in, and he’s been missing home more and more, craving the feeling of familiarity. But it isn’t just the physical places or the comfort of his regular routine that he craves. 

It’s something else, something harder to name. 

And for some other reason he can’t seem to explain, he thinks it’s you. 

Jake doesn’t know when it started. Maybe it was hearing the sound of your voice through the phone whenever the guys called you to check in every now and then. Or maybe it was the way you would text in their shared group chat, your messages always tinged with humor or a sense of calm that somehow made everything feel a little less overwhelming. 

Whatever it was, it stuck with him. He finds himself craving that unexplainable comfort only you seem to bring. He tells himself it’s nothing special, just the natural pull of familiarity. You’re back at home, the place he misses the most, so obviously, through association, it makes sense. 

It’s logical. Nothing more. 

That’s what he tells himself as his thumb hovers over your name. It’s not about you specifically—it couldn’t be. It’s just the connection to home. The grounding warmth of your voice. The way you somehow make the distance feel a little less suffocating. 

Obviously. Nothing more. 

He presses call.  

Two rings. That's all it takes before your voice cuts through all the static in his head. Groggy, soft, and achingly familiar. Like home.  

"Jake? It's late, is everything okay?"  

Jake glances at the clock. 10:13PM where he is. Much later for you, he imagines. Guilt stirs, but...  

He doesn't want to hang up. 

Hearing your voice feels like the first breath of air after surfacing from deep water. He instantly feels more comfortable despite the heaviness in his chest.

"Hey," he mumbles, his voice quiet. "I'm okay. Just...needed to hear a friendly voice, I guess."  

"Wow, are the boys that bad that you need to call me?" You tease warmly, despite the sleepiness lingering in your words.  

Jake chuckles, the sound low and tired, "Nothing against them, really. It's just...sometimes you need someone who reminds you of home, you know?"  

The other end of the line goes quiet for a moment. He can hear you shuffle, and he braces himself for a teasing comment about him being sappy and sentimental. But instead, your voice softens.  

"Well, I'm glad I could be that for you," your voice telling him you're smiling brightly on the other side of the screen. "Though if I had a private jet, I'd send it right now. Bring you back instantly."  

"A private jet, huh?" Jake's eyes flutter close as he's engulfed into the usual, playful rhythm that's always there between the two of you. "You'd do that for me?"  

"Only if you bring back goodies, preferably snacks," you quip back, and the warmth in his chest grows.  

There's another pause, the kind that feels comfortable rather than awkward. Jake shifts in his spot and before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “How do you do that?”  

“Do what?” 

“Make everything feel...lighter. Like, I can’t explain it, but just hearing you makes me feel like I’m not carrying all this stuff by myself.” 

Your voice softens at his sudden vulnerability. 

“Because you don't have to carry it all on your own, Jake. You know that, right? That’s what friends are for."  

Jake hums in response, a low sound of acknowledgement as he keeps his phone pressed close, your voice instantly soothing the heavy emotions he's been carrying. 

"You sound exhausted," you say after a beat, your tone cautious but filled with genuine care. "How are you holding up? With everything—the tour, the...break-up, just...you?"  

Jake lets out a low groan, his fingers brushing through his hair. "You sound like my mom."  

"Well, someone has to," you tease lightly, a relieved laugh slipping into your voice, as if you'd been afraid you overstepped. "Seriously, Jake. Are you doing okay?"  

Jake hesitates, the question catching him off guard. He hadn't let himself think too much about Jenn or the breakup since leaving for tour a month ago. The boys knew better than to bring it up, and Jake had been grateful for that—for the distraction.  

But now, with you, it feels different. 

Safer, easier. Natural.  

“Honestly? I don’t know,” he sighs, the sound heavy through the phone. “Some days it feels like I’m fine, like I’ve moved on, and other days...it’s like I’m stuck in this loop of ‘what ifs.’ Like, what if I did something different? Or..."  

He trails off to a pause, his throat tight, before he finally admits to you, and himself, "...what if I just wasn't enough?"  

“Jake,” you say gentle but firm, cutting through his spiraling thoughts. “You are enough. You've always been enough. Jenn...she just wasn’t the right person for you. That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.” 

He swallows hard, your words settling into the cracks he didn't even realize were there. 

"Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. It's just...hard, you know? Haven't really talked about it since it happened. But talking to you helps—a lot."  

“I’m glad." He can hear the quiet sincerity in your words. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing an amazing job. With tour, with...everything. You've got this, Jake. I’m really proud of you.”

Jake lets out a breathy laugh, the warmth in your words settling something in his chest—a knot he didn't even realize was there. 

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” 

“It’s a gift,” you easily reply, and he can hear the grin in your voice, the easy banter making him feel lighter.  

"I missed this," the words tumble out before he can stop himself. Then he quickly adds, as if to explain himself, "It's weird not having you around. The boys are great and all, but you give the best advice. Don't tell them that."  

You giggle on your end, the sound making Jake's lips curve into a small smile and his heart twists.  

In both a comforting and terrifying way. 

"I miss it too," your voice quieter now. "But I'm here. You know that, right? Even if you're on the other side of the world, or if you call me at four in the morning like you're doing right now."  

Jake lets out a chuckle followed by a sleepy groan, "Sorry about that. But...thank you, Y/N. For picking up."  

"Always," you reply, and he hopes you mean it.  

A beat passes. Jake knows he should hang up, that he should let you sleep. He tries to convince himself that you need the sleep more than he needs this call.  

But he can't help himself.  

"You'll yell at me if I don't sleep, won't you?"  

"Absolutely. Go to bed, Jake. Or at least try. Zombie mode doesn't suit you."  

"Fine," he sighs dramatically, but his eyes feel heavier and he knows he's falling asleep, the tension in his body from before easing away. "But only because you scare me sometimes."  

You laugh. "Good. Now get some rest. And call me whenever you need to, okay?"  

"Okay," he mumbles into his phone quietly, his mind already slipping into a deep sleep. 

"Goodnight, Y/N."  

"Goodnight, Jake."  

"Don't you have a bedtime, Sim Jaeyun?" You tease, answering the call. The clock reads 1:27AM, and you should be asleep—you really should—but you smile anyways when Jake's name appears on your screen.  

"Bedtime? I don't know her," his voice slightly groggy, but as usual, still warm. "Besides I knew you'd be awake. You don't sleep like a normal person either."  

You roll your eyes, knowing fully well he can't see it, "Yeah, well, I don't have to dance around a stage for two hours tomorrow."  

"True, but you do have to deal with my constant calls and keep me entertained. That's way harder."  

"Oh yeah, obviously," you say with mock seriousness. "Being your emotional support human is a full-time job." 

“Emotional support human,” Jake repeats, chuckling softly. “You’re right. I guess I really owe you, huh?”

“Oh, 100%,” you shoot back, a grin in your voice. “I want one of those tour hoodies you guys keep posting with.” 

“Done. What size?” 

"The oversized one."  

Jake pauses. “Let me guess—so you can sleep in it?"  

You hesitate, suddenly sheepish at how he knows you too well, “Hey, it's only cozy if it's oversized!"  

You hear his soft laugh on the other end of the line. 

“Cute. I’ll make sure to steal one for you.” 

You try not to overanalyze the way your stomach flips at the word cute, and the easy way he says it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  

You shake the thought off immediately. This wasn't new, after all, Jake's always warm and easy to talk to. But lately—over the past month of phone calls—the way he says certain things, the tone he says them in, and the way they make you feel? It carried a weight you weren't sure how to hold.  

In both a comforting and terrifying way.  

“So, how was your day?” you suddenly bring up, trying to redirect your thoughts. 

"Tiring," Jake sighs, his voice muffled as he shifts around in bed. "And Jungwon keeps beating me at Mario Kart during our break time. My pride is in shambles, Y/N."  

"Let me guess," you smirk, repeating his words from earlier. "He picks Yoshi, and you keep picking Toad because you think he's underrated."  

"Excuse me," Jake scoffs. "Toad is underrated. But, for your information, I choose Toad because your go-to character is Toadette."  

Your heart does that stupid flip again. His words are light—I mean, you guys are talking about Mario Kart for god's sake—but it's stuff like that that keeps you questioning the true meaning behind his words.

You ignore the feeling, instead, a laugh bubbles up in response, an attempt to sound unaffected.

"You're so weird."  

“But you like it,” he quips, voice dipping just slightly, like he’s testing the waters. 

You're caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone, but you recover just as quickly. 

"Debatable."  

“Liar.”

His tone is teasing, but there's something softer behind it, “You wouldn’t still be on the phone with me if you didn’t like me at least a little.” 

“Maybe I’m just bored,” you shoot back, though your cheeks are burning at his sudden forwardness, questioning if he’s serious or just messing with you. 

You hear him hum in response, "Then I guess I'll have to work harder to keep you interested."  

“Oh yeah? How are you planning to do that?” You try to match his teasing tone, but internally, you feel unsteady under the implication of his words. 

“By being my usual charming self, duh,” he says, his voice dropping into a smooth tone. “And, you know, calling you every night so you don’t forget about me.” 

Your heart squeezes. "You already do that, stupid. You think I'd forget about you?"  

“Never,” Jake's reply is immediate, almost instinctive, leaving no room for doubt. “But just in case…I like hearing your voice. Makes me feel like I’m not a million miles away.” 

His words linger in the space between you, heavier than the playful banter from earlier. You swallow hard, trying your best to keep your voice steady. 

“You’re not a million miles away, Jake.” 

“Feels like it,” he murmurs. You hear a pause in his voice, as if he's thinking hard about his next words. “I miss home. I miss...you." 

Your chest tightens, and your hands grip the sheets beneath you, as if the fabric could somehow ground you. Your heart is doing that thing again—the erratic, terrifying thing that makes you want to believe in something you're not sure is even real.  

And at the same time, your thoughts are scrambling to say something lighthearted before the conversation steers into that dangerous, dangerous territory you were sure you weren't ready for.  

Not yet.  

"Well, you better win at least one round of Mario Kart for me while you're out there," you force a laugh, trying to mask the tremor in your voice.  

Jake laughs, the sound genuine, "I'll try. But if I lose, just know I'm dedicating every race to you."  

"Wow, I'm so honored," you try to deadpan, but he can sense the grin in your voice.  

"You should be," his voice softens again. "Thanks for picking up tonight, by the way. I know it's late."  

He never fails to thank you every night, as if you haven't been picking up every day for the past month and won't be picking up tomorrow, and the next day...and the day after that.  

And, somehow, the same, genuine appreciation makes it so hard for you to ignore that weird, warm, fluttering sensation growing inside you every time you talk to him.  

But, regardless, you always give him the same reply: 

"Always," your voice matching his softness. "Call me whenever, okay?"  

"Don’t say that," Jake warns, the teasing edge creeping back into his tone. "I'll actually do it."  

"Fine," you giggle. "But if you call me at four in the morning again, I'm putting my phone on Do Not Disturb." 

"Deal." He pauses, then adds, "Goodnight, Y/N."  

"Goodnight, Jake."  

As you hang up, you stare at your phone for a moment longer than you should have, your room feeling oddly quiet and too empty without his voice.  

It's just another call, Y/N. Just another call between two friends.  

But deep down, a part of you tells you it isn’t that simple anymore.  

And maybe—just maybe—he knows it too.  

“Are you busy?” Jake’s voice sounds more tired than usual, heavy with an overwhelming amount of tension. 

“Never too busy for our calls,” you easily reply without hesitation as you lay back in your bed, phone close to your ear. Your voice is light, a stark contrast to the weariness laced in his, and when he doesn’t respond with his typical chuckle, you immediately sense his mood. “Hard day?” 

He exhales slowly, the weary sound answering your question. Today was a lot. Hours of rehearsal followed by a concert, the adrenaline rush of performing, followed by the chaos of having the guys’ hotel information leaked. Crowds of paparazzi and fans swarmed the entrance, the relentless flashes of cameras breaking through whatever little pieces of calm he had left within him. The noise, the pressure, the endless cycle—all spiraled into a mental mess he doesn’t seem to shake. 

The second he settled into his hotel room, all Jake knew was that he needed to talk to you—the one person who could steady his racing thoughts. 

"I just...I didn't think this would get to me, you know? The cameras, the people, the flashes in my face—I'm just—it's like I'm never alone."  

Your heart twists at the vulnerability and rawness in his voice, as if he’s admitting something for the first time—not just to anyone else, but to himself. 

"I—I don't know. Sometimes I wish I could just disappear, just for a little while. Just to breathe, you know?"  

You close your eyes, your grip on the phone unconsciously tightening as if it could anchor him somehow.  

"I know it's not the same," your voice steady, even as you internally ached for him, "but...you can disappear with me, Jake. Even if it's just through the call. No cameras. No noise. Just...you and me."  

He lets out an exhale—shaky, but relieved.  

"You're really good at this. Making me feel like it's all gonna be okay."  

"Because it is going to be okay, Jake," you reply softly. "You're not alone, Jake. Not with me."  

"Yeah," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, and he wishes more than anything else in this moment that he actually was with you. “I know.” 

"Jake," you groan, sitting cross-legged on your bed, staring at the flustered boy through your laptop screen. "I'm begging you—just wear the black jacket. It's literally impossible to mess up black."  

"But what about the beanie?" He whines as he pops back into view, his face scrunched up in genuine distress. "Do you think I can pull it off, or will I look like I'm trying too hard? Be honest, Y/N."  

What started as a simple fashion-advice-question over the phone turned into a two-hour wardrobe emergency—all because Jake couldn’t figure out what to wear to the airport the next day (because, apparently, airport fits matter—his words, not yours).

"Jake, you could wear a literal trash bag to the airport and fans would still lose their minds," you tease, biting back a laugh. 

He rolls his eyes at you, but the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.  

"Okay, but seriously, you’re trying too hard. Just go with the jacket, no beanie," you add on, just to end this two-hour long madness.  

"Hmm," Jake plops on his bed and turns towards his phone camera, and you swear you can see the pout forming on his lips. "But I already posted a preview of the jacket last week. Isn't that, like, repetitive?"  

"Jake,” you blink at him, "it's an airport. Not a fashion show."  

He stares at you for a beat, then lets out a dramatic sigh, "Fine! Jacket, no beanie. But if I see even one criticizing comment calling me basic, I'm blaming you."  

You laugh, shaking your head at his ridiculousness, "Deal. Now go to sleep, Sim Jaeyun."  

His grin softens as he adjusts the camera to fully look at you, pout gone, eyes glistening.

"Only because you said so."  

"Hey," you say softly, answering the call as you snuggle deeper into your blanket, letting it engulf you completely.

The familiar sound of Jake's quiet breathing fills the space between you, and before he even says a word, you already know.  

"Rough day?" You ask gently when he doesn’t say anything after a few seconds. 

"Yeah," he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual, almost drowned out by the low hum of background noise. "I just...I don't really feel like talking right now, if that's okay."  

"Of course," you reply without hesitation, your tone gentle, no questions asked.

On the other end, Jake presses the phone closer to this ear in an attempt to feel closer to you, instantly feeling better from your pure understanding of how he’s feeling, and he thinks—not for the first time—that you might be his favorite person in the world.  

The warm silence engulfs the both of you like a shared blanket, unspoken yet understood. You can hear the faint echoes of his surroundings: the muffled laughter of the boys somewhere nearby, the distant honk of traffic outside his hotel, and then the quiet shuffle of Jake shifting positions in his hotel bed. You catch his breath catching slightly, like he's finally allowing himself to relax—to just be.  

You don't try to fill the silence. You know that he needs this—a moment of peace in the chaos. Instead, you similarly press the phone closer to your ear, as if doing so can somehow bridge the miles between you, hoping he can sense your presence reaching out for him. 

Minutes pass like this, and for a moment, it’s so quiet you begin to wonder if he's falling asleep. But then, a deep exhale breaks the stillness.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says finally, his voice low but steady, carrying a weight of sincerity that makes your heart clench.  

"You don't have to thank me, Jake," your voice matches his softness. "You know that."  

"Still," his voice is low, so quiet, it feels like a secret meant only for you. "I appreciate you. More than you probably know."  

You smile to yourself, your heart aching in the best way possible, and you desperately try your best to ignore it, no matter how much excitement it brought you. 

"Always, Jake." 

“Tell me something about you that I don’t already know,” you challenge him, your voice carrying that light and endearing tone over the phone that Jake’s come to crave. 

“Hmm,” Jake hums thoughtfully as he lies in his bed, eyes closed, just simply treasuring the small moments, like this one, with you. 

Even though it’s definitely 3AM where he is right now. And he definitely has to be up in a few hours for rehearsal. 

Oh well, completely irrelevant. Talking about everything and anything with you just felt so right. 

“I don’t know,” he eventually exhales, his brain too foggy to think of anything logical right now. “I feel like you know me better than I know myself at this point, Y/N.” 

“You’re so corny it physically hurts, Jake,” you scoff, and Jake swears he can feel your exaggerated eye roll from thousands of miles away. 

“Oh—wait, wait! I have one,” he perks up, his eyes shooting open as he turns towards the phone in excitement. 

“Hit me,” you say, unconsciously smiling at how cute he sounds. 

“I’m allergic to flowers.” 

The line falls silent for a beat before you erupt into a storm of giggles so wild it makes Jake feel sick from how fast the butterflies in his stomach start fluttering. 

“That’s your fun fact? That’s so tragic, Jake,” you gasp through your giggles. “Like, depressingly tragic.” 

“Hey! It’s not that sad, it could be worse,” Jake hopes you can hear his pout over the phone (you can). 

“So you’re telling me you’ve never bought a girl flowers before?” You tease, smiling to yourself as you stare at your ceiling. 

“Guess not,” Jake lets out a laugh, which surprises himself. “Jenn used to always get mad at me for never getting her any, but what am I supposed to do? Show up with a bouquet and an epi-pen? I literally start tearing up whenever I’m around any kind.” 

You lose it all over again, your laughter spilling through Jake’s phone like sunshine, and Jake doesn’t even realize he’s smiling so widely until his cheeks start to ache. 

But what Jake does realize is something unexpected: for the first time in forever, he can talk about Jenn without a single pang of…anything. No weird tension, no lingering sadness—just a casual mention and then…nothing. 

It’s freeing, this feeling of lightness, like an invisible weight he didn’t know he was even carrying has suddenly lifted. He wonders if this is what moving on really feels like, if he’s found his emotional freedom. He wonders when it changed. 

He wonders maybe it’s not when—maybe it’s who.  

And he wonders if it’s you. 

Today was supposed to be Jake’s day off. The golden ticket to rest, recharge, and not think about anything.

Key term: supposed to be.

Instead, Jake found himself knee-deep in the trenches of emotional warfare—and losing spectacularly.

The morning started innocently enough. No alarm, no schedule, just the soft promise of freedom that was so close within his reach. But by noon, Jake came to a harsh realization.

Freedom was a lie.

Because every step, every sight, every breath, was haunted by one inescapable thought: You.

It started with a boutique. Him and the boys had wandered down a cobblestone street in a city that Jake had already forgotten the name of—city number ten or eleven of tour? He barely knew anymore. But then his gaze caught on a mannequin in the window.

Big mistake.

The outfit on display—similar to his mind—had you written all over it. Immediately, his brain spiraled.

Y/N would love that. She'd probably drag me and all the guys in and force me to hold her bag while she tried it on.

He had to physically stop himself from dragging the group inside to purchase it on the spot.

Next? A coffee shop. And there it was: a poster featuring some limited-edition iced peach latte. Jake froze, staring at it like it held the answers to life itself.

You’d love it. You would order it, (well, you'd make Jake order it, because you hate talking to cashiers), sip it, smile, and probably rant about how overpriced it was—even though Jake would pay for it—yet you’d still finish the entire thing.

And then, you'd steal half of his drink, too. 

Because you always did. 

And Jake always lets you.

The final straw? A cat. Just a random stray, peacefully lounging on a sunny part of sidewalk, looking like it had zero interest in the world around it. And even that didn't escape Jake's you-obsessed filter. Without even thinking, Jake whipped out his phone. 

It was instinctual at this point.

Jake [1:06PM]: (attached - one image) Jake [1:06PM]: thought you'd like this one :)

Because obviously, you needed to see that cat. Immediately.

By the time Jake collapses onto his hotel bed that evening, he feels like he’d run a mental marathon—except instead of a finish line, every road led back to you.

He flops onto his bed, hoping sleep would save him from the storm raging in his brain.

Spoiler alert: it doesn't.

Instead, it leads him to the complete opposite. He stares at your name on his phone, your contact picture, your last messages to him. 

You texted him two hours ago—a sweet goodnight message that ended with your usual, 'Don't hesitate to call if you need me.' 

Casual. Normal.

But it probably didn't mean, 'Hey, please interrupt my sleep from the other side of the world so we can discuss your ongoing emotional crisis over me.'

Don't do it, Jake. The remaining rational brain cells within him beg him to stop. You're being dramatic. She's not the air you need to breathe.

But at the same time, deep down, Jake really thinks you are.

The worst part? You two already had talked on the phone earlier—when Jake had another fashion crisis and couldn't decide what to wear for his day off exploring with the guys. Of course, you laughed at him, teased him, but then helped him pick something out anyways. Typical.

Personally, if it was up to him, he'd spent his whole day off on the phone with you. Talking about everything. Or nothing. Whatever you wanted, Jake would've done it, no hesitation.

Don't do it, Jake, his brain warns him again. What kind of obsessed-lunatic calls the same person twice in one day?

Answer: Jake.

But as Jake lies in his hotel bed, thoughts heavily clouded with the image of you and the sound of your voice, he realizes...this wasn't just a phone call thing. No, this was deeper, worse. And somewhere between staring at the same patch of ceiling and replaying every memory of you on a mental loop, Jake tries to rationalize it.

She’s just a good friend, Jake. A best friend, even! You think about her a lot because she’s cool and funny and…and she has the laugh of a Disney princess...But it’s normal to think about your friends, right? Right??

But the more he tries to downplay it, the clearer it becomes. This was something else.

And then it hits.

Like, really hits.

Oh my god. I like her.

Jake shoots upright, widened eyes filled with horror, as if the realization itself just physically smacked him across the face.

No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

Jake buries his face in his hands, groaning. But the groan quickly turns into a muffled scream, because the more he thinks about it, the worse it gets.

Because he thinks you're going to be the death of him. He really, really likes you. Not in the vague, 'Oh, she’s cute' way, but in the write-her-name-in-a-heart-and-doodle-little-stars-around-it kind of way. The stare-at-her-texts-like-they’re-poetry kind of way. The imagine-her-laughing-at-your-dad’s-jokes-and-enjoying-your-mom’s-meals-forever kind of way.

And this feeling? It's new. It's terrifying. 

It's exhilarating.

Jake realizes in this very moment that he's never experienced this heart-pounding, face-flushing, breath-taking kind of feeling towards anyone. Sure, his past relationship had been meaningful in its own way, but now Jake is realizing that the foundation of his past relationship was tangled up in obligations and unspoken expectations. A tightrope act of Jake having to be the perfect boyfriend, the perfect idol, the perfect...everything. He never realized how suffocating it was until now—until you. Because this feeling with you?

This was pure. Simple, clear, and undeniable.

Your sheer existence proved that it's possible for someone to understand him better than he understands himself. Your laugh had a way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight of the world had been momentarily suspended. Just one look from you alone somehow always manages to make him feel like he was still worthy even on his worst days.

With you, Jake felt...himself, for once. Not Jake Sim, global popstar. Not Jake Sim, the boyfriend of so-and-so. Just...Jake.

Jake's heart pounds as the realization sinks in. He's now transitioned from screaming into his hands to his poor hotel pillow.

Because as clear and strong as this feeling is, the doubt is just as overwhelming. What if you don't feel the same? What if this ruins everything?

But at the same time...what if you do feel the same way?

What if this is his chance? The butterfly effect that changes everything? What if you're it? You have to be.

And so, like an idiot possessed, Jake's finger is one millimeter away from pressing call on your name again.

Because, obviously, the best way to deal with overwhelming feelings is to confess them from a hotel room five countries away.

Obviously. 

Because what if he didn't call? What if he spent the rest of his night spiraling into an endless pit of unspoken feelings and overthinking, arms flailing as he knows the only way out of the pit is with your help?

What if his brain explodes with the sheer amount of feelings he has for you and he never has the chance to tell you ever again?

He presses call.

The line rings twice before you answer.

"Jake?" Your voice is soft, laced with surprise and just the faintest trace of sleep. "It's late for you, is everything okay?"

Jake's brain short-circuits. What time even is it for him? He has no idea, and frankly, he doesn't care.

"Yeah," he blurts, far too quickly that he winces at himself. He clears his throat before trying again, "I mean, yeah. Everything's fine. I just...couldn't sleep."

"Oh," you hum softly and Jake swears the sound alone could single-handedly resolve global wars.

Yeah, he definitely likes you.

"Is something stressing you out?" The genuine concern in your voice makes his chest tighten.

"No—well, nothing like that," Jake rushes to assure you, sitting up straighter in bed now, as if you could see him. His voice lowers, almost shy, "I just...I was thinking about you."

Silence. Jake's heart pounds so loudly, he's sure you can hear it through the phone.

"About me?" You finally tease, light and playful, but there's something softer underneath. "What did I do to deserve such an honor?"

Jake lets out a nervous, breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair, “You exist. That’s what.”

Another pause. He hears you exhale softly, and the sound alone sends his heart into overdrive.

"That was smooth," your voice is quiet, soft, as if teetering on the line of teasing and nervousness at the same time. "Ten out of ten, Jake."

"I'm serious," Jake tries his best to keep his voice from cracking, the weight of his feelings pressing down on him. "I was lying here, thinking about everything, and I realized something."

"And what's that?"

Jake's throat goes dry. His heart is screaming at him to say it, but his brain begs him to reconsider.

But Jake's sure he's lost all his rational brain cells for sure at this point, so he swallows hard, and braces himself for impact.

"I like you, Y/N."

The words spill out, raw and unpolished, but so utterly true.

“I mean, I really like you," Jake continues, his voice barely above a whisper now. "More than a friend, more than anything.”

The line goes silent, and for a split second, a lifetime of pure awkwardness and torture of not having you in his life anymore flashes in his vision, and he rushes to fill the void.

"I know this is probably the worst timing ever, and probably really scary...and it's okay if you don't feel the same way," his voice definitely cracks this time, laying everything bare, but he doesn't care anymore. "But I had to tell you. I can't pretend around you, not when being around you feels like the only time I'm really me."

Then, you let out a soft exhale—a disbelieving, breathless sound that makes Jake's heart skip a beat.

"Jake..."

"You're...you're everything, Y/N. You make life better just by being in it. And I haven't even seen you in four months, but you're all I think about," Jake lets out a small laugh, swallowing the remainder of all his pride and dignity. "I promise, when I'm back...I'll prove it to you. I'll show you how much you mean to me. Anything it takes. "

For once in his life, Jake feels completely vulnerable—and yet, strangely, it feels right.

Because he means it, every word.

He's never meant anything more.

The line had gone quiet after Jake’s confession, his words echoing in your ears. 

“I like you, Y/N.” 

No, not like. Really, really like. 

You spent the last few days replaying his words over and over, dissecting every syllable, every tiny inflection in this voice. At first, it didn't even seem real.  

A part of you still thinks it isn't—that this is all a cruel dream and you're going to wake up any second now back in the real world. The one where Jake Sim, the boy who turns heads and steals hearts without even trying, didn't just confess his deepest, most vulnerable feelings for you in a single phone call. 

But no. He said it, alright. Clear as day.  

First, all you felt was pure happiness. Maybe it was hearing his voice everyday, or maybe it was seeing how his face lit up through the screen when you picked up his video calls—but somewhere along the way, you knew it was something deeper. 

Something that made your heart skip when his name lit up your phone, something that left you craving his voice to make your day feel complete. And now? Now the boy who’d effortlessly become your favorite part of every day was telling you you’d done the same for him. 

But then, came the fear. 

Because what if this was just a rebound? What if you were just a soft landing for him, a way to patch up the holes left behind by his past? Here you were, standing at the edge of something terrifyingly real, wondering if you were just a step in his recovery process—a way to fill the cracks, but not the kind of permanence you were beginning to crave. 

You weren’t naive enough to see Jake’s past relationship didn’t still linger in the corners of his mind. You’d seen him struggle with it before, how hard he’d tried to convince himself he was fine. What if you were just the next step in his healing, rather than something real—a Band-Aid for a wound that wasn’t even yours to heal? 

And worse—what if you let it happen? What if you let yourself fall, only to hit the ground at an alarming speed, and...splat. Not just a regular, embarrassing tumble, no. But the kind that leaves you flattened on the pavement like a cartoon character who ignored every warning sign. 

Because that’s exactly what it would feel like, wouldn’t it? Giving it, letting yourself hope—only to crash and burn spectacularly. 

Deep down, you knew you weren’t just risking a little heartache. Because Jake? Jake had quietly claimed a permanent spot in your heart at this point. 

You were risking everything. 

And the worst part? 

You were already halfway there. 

That was the reason why you told him you needed time. The reason why all you could manage to respond was a meek, 'I just...I need to think about this.' And to his credit, Jake hadn't pushed. Of course, not.  

But now, three days later, you were no closer to an answer. If anything, the time apart had made everything worse. 

Because as the days stretched on, with every passing hour, every text you didn’t send and every call you didn’t make, one thing became gut-wrenchingly, undeniably clear: 

You were already his. 

You miss Jake’s voice, his laugh, the way he rambles about the most random things late at night. You miss how, somehow, he made you fall asleep with a smile on your face from the other side of the world. You miss him, that even in his absence, he was still your first thought in your mind when you woke up and the last before you drifted to sleep. 

And no amount of overthinking or second-guessing could change the truth that finally settled in your chest like a secret you weren’t ready to admit to yourself:

You were his. Completely. 

The only question now was whether you’d let yourself believe he was yours too. 

"Y/N?"  

"Jungwon," you groan helplessly into your phone. "Help me."  

A pause. Then, "Are you sure you meant to call me? It's Jungwon, not Jake," he teases lightly. "I can go get Jake if you meant—" 

"Jungwon!" You cut him off, panicked. "I'm being serious. It's about Jake, dummy."  

"Oh," his tone shifts instantly as he senses the seriousness in your voice. "Did something happen? Because I swear, for the past three days, Jake's been moping around like a kicked puppy, and I was gonna ask you about it because I know you guys have been talking a lot more, but I didn't want to push, and—" 

"That's exactly it, Jungwon!" You wail into your pillow, your voice muffled. Great, now you feel even worse, knowing Jake is moping around, waiting for you.   

"What's exactly it?" Your best friend presses, voice curious. "I need specifics, Y/N."  

You hesitate, the words clinging to the back of your throat like they're too heavy to admit. Finally, you take a deep breath and force them out.  

"Jake told me he likes me, Jungwon. Like really, really likes me. He gave this whole monologue about how I'm all he can think about, and it was so cute, and it made me want to explode from joy and fear all at once, and I don't know what to do!"  

A beat of silence. 

Jungwon sucks in a dramatic breath and then, "Wait, wait, wait. Back up. First of all, this is not news to me."  

You blink, as if he can see your look of shock over the phone, "What?"  

"This was obvious, Y/N. The guy's been smitten with you for months. You guys literally have been talking every day since we left."  

Your jaw drops, "So what? You and I talk every day! How is this any different?"  

Jungwon snorts, "Y/N, we text every day. About minuscule things. Like me reminding you not to forget your keys and you ghosting my last text. But you and Jake? You guys talk for hours—into the illegal hours of the night, mind you. Trust me, I know. Hotel walls are thin."  

You feel your cheeks flushing, "That doesn't mean anything."  

"Doesn't it?" Jungwon's voice is laced with amusement. "When's the last time you called me just to hear my voice?"  

"Jungwon."  

"Exactly."  

You groan again, "But Jungwon, what if…what if he's not over Jenn? What if I'm just a rebound?"  

Jungwon goes quiet for a moment, his tone softening when he finally speaks, “Jake’s not like that, Y/N. You know that. He wouldn’t tell you he likes you unless he meant it.” 

“Yeah, but—” 

“Look," he interrupts. "Jake’s a lot of things—annoyingly loud, for one—but he’s not the kind of guy who’d use someone, especially you, as a rebound. If he said he likes you, he likes you.” 

You bite your lip, his words settling over you like a warm blanket—because you know they're true.  

“And for what it’s worth,” Jungwon continues, “I think you like him too.” 

“I..,” you falter, your heart hammering in your chest. “I do.” 

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

You sigh, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the nerves coiled in your stomach, “I don’t know. I guess I’m scared.” 

“That’s okay,” Jungwon says gently. “But don’t let fear stop you from something that could make you happy. You deserve that, Y/N. And so does Jake.” 

You close your eyes, letting Jungwon's words sink in. Deep down, you know he's right, he always is.  

"Thanks, Jungwon," you say, your voice softer now, tinged with gratitude.  

"Anytime," he replies, and then, with a teasing lilt, "But seriously—you should probably tell him soon. I can't stand watching him mope around like a sad, abandoned puppy. It's seriously tragic, like, to the point where I’m gonna have to start letting him win at Mario Kart."  

A small giggle escapes you, light and genuine for the first time in three days, "I know, I know. Eventually."  

"Y/N," his voice turns playfully stern, like a parent lecturing their toddler. "Eventually isn't a time. Just call him. You've been thinking about him nonstop, haven't you?" 

Unfortunately, Jungwon knows you too well. Your silent response betrays you, and Jungwon lets out a triumphant hum.  

"Thought so. Well, you should go. You have a call to make."  

You sigh, a mix of nerves and a new determination bubbling, "Okay, okay. But if this goes horribly wrong, I'm blaming you."  

"It won't. But deal," his tone is reassuring, confident, like he already knows how this story ends. "You got this, Y/N."  

The call ends, and the quiet still of your room taunts you. For a moment, you sit there, staring at your phone, the little icon of Jake's contact picture—a selfie the two of you took together many years ago—staring back at you like a challenge.  

Your fingers hover. Your heart races, your palms feel clammy, and your stomach twists.  

But then you remember Jungwon's words.  

You deserve this.  

And so does Jake.  

You take a deep breath, then you press down on his name.  

The phone doesn't even reach the second ring before he picks up.  

"Y/N," Jake’s voice is rushed, a little breathless.  

"Hey," you say softly, suddenly unsure where to start. "Um, were you busy?"  

"No, no," he quickly responds. "Not at all. You could call me at 3AM, and I still would’ve picked up."  

"That's unhealthy, you know," your lips twitch as you lay back in your bed, taking a deep inhale. You missed this—you missed him.  

"For you? Worth it," you can hear the smile in his voice, but along with the slight tension just beneath it—the faintest tremor that tells you he's been waiting for this call, maybe agonizing over it just as much as you have.  

You swallow hard, gripping the phone tight, "Jake, about...our last call..."  

"Take your time," he says gently, though you don't miss the way his voice wavers ever so slightly. "I mean it, Y/N. There's no pressure."  

You exhale shakily, closing your eyes, “I’ve been thinking a lot, too. About you. About…us.” 

Jake stays silent, but you could hear the faint sound of him shifting, like he was bracing himself. 

You squeeze your eyes hard, as you let the words finally come out, "I like you too, Jake. A lot. So much, honestly. It's just..."  

"It's just...?" Jake's voice repeats softly, as if that's all he can manage to let out in the midst of his nervousness.  

You hold your breath, scared of what you're about to admit—to Jake and to yourself. 

"It's just...I'm scared," your voice comes out barely above a whisper, "I'm scared that this is too good to be true. That you're saying all of this because...I don't know—you're trying to move on...from the past, or because you're lonely on tour, or—" 

"Y/N,” Jake's voice cuts through firm, but gentle.  

"You're not…a rebound, or a distraction, or anything like that," he starts quietly, each word deliberate. "And this isn't about...Jenn, or me being lonely, or whatever else you think. This is about you."  

Your breath hitches as you take in his words and open your eyes, hoping that staring at the ceiling above you could somehow ground you.  

“You’re the one who makes me laugh when I’ve had the worst day,” Jake continues. “You’re the one I want to talk to, even when I’m running on zero sleep. You’re the one I think about when I’m on stage and wish I could just look into the crowd and see you there. It’s you, Y/N."  

His words are overwhelming, too much, and you're unsure how to even process them. Your throat tightens, and you can feel the subconscious tears prickling at the corners of your eyes without even realizing they were forming.  

"Are you sure, Jake?"  

"More than anything else, Y/N," he says immediately, like the words have been waiting on the tip of his tongue. "And I want to do this right, Y/N. No rushing, no expectations. Just...tell me what you need from me, and I'll do it. Whatever it takes, I'll do it."  

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. You can picture him on the other side of the line, sitting in some unfamiliar hotel room, his brows probably furrowed in that adorable way they always do whenever he tries to find the right words.  

You bite your lip, a small laugh escaping despite the tears sliding down your cheeks, “You’re so cheesy, you know that?” 

Jake lets out a small laugh, immediately easing from the tension that hung in the air.  

"Only for you," he mumbles, his voice soft but steady.  

You sigh, the sound reaching Jake on the other side. There's a pause, a moment of mutual understanding in silence, just listening to the quiet, peaceful hum of each other's breathing.  

“Jake?” You say finally, your voice trembling. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think…” You take a deep breath, and you think your heart is about to break out of your chest. “I think I want to try too.” 

The silence on the other end was electric, and for a moment, you think maybe the call dropped. Then, you hear the unmistakable sound of Jake’s laugh—soft, relieved, and filled with so much warmth that it instantly makes your own heart feel lighter. 

“You're driving me crazy, Y/N,” he says, his voice almost breathless, but tinged with humor.  

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he says, a smile clear in his tone.  

“I hope I am,” you quip, and it makes him chuckle, the sound warm and full of relief. “Guess I’m stuck with your cheesy lines now huh?” 

“Stuck with me?” Jake repeats, pretending to sound offended. “No way. I’m stuck with you, Y/N. And trust me, I’m not going anywhere.” 

His words are so simple, yet so full of promise, and it leaves you feeling a little breathless. 

“Good,” you whisper, your cheeks warm. “Because I don’t want you to.” 

“Hi Jake,” your voice bright as you immediately pick up his call and see his face appear on the screen, his expression softening when he sees you. 

“Hey pretty,” he replies, without missing a beat, his voice laced with a soft fondness that never fails to make your stomach flip. 

You roll your eyes, failing miserably to hide the blush rising to your cheeks, “Oh, so now I’m pretty, huh?”

Jake smirks at your words, leaning closer to his phone, “Nah, you’ve always been pretty. Just didn’t have the guts to say it to your face before.”  

You groan, dramatically planting your face into your pillow as an attempt to bury the smile on your face, your voice muffled, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Jake.”

“Stop that, don’t hide. Let me see your face,” his tone dips somewhere between playful and pleading, and you give in, lifting your head just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your red cheeks. 

“Cute,” he says with a knowing grin, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. 

“Whatever,” you murmur, but the smile on your face remains. “How was your day today?” 

“Mmm, it was good,” Jake says, running a hand through his messy hair. “Busy, but good. I forget how loud the fans get each time. But it’s nice. Makes it feel worth it, you know?” 

“I’m glad,” your smile grows as you watch him speak, feeling nothing but proud of him. “You deserve all of it, Jake.” 

“Stop,” now he’s groaning, throwing a hand over his face to cover his shy expression. “You’re going to make me blush.” 

“Mm, looks like you already are, Jakey,” you shake your head, laughing softly. 

“Maybe a little,” he admits as he peeks at you through his fingers, his grin boyish and infectious, and you can’t help but laugh again. 

The call falls quiet for a moment, but it’s not awkward—just comfortable, like a shared breath. Jake shifts, turning on his stomach and propping his phone up against some pillows to make sure you can still see him. 

“I miss you,” he says suddenly, and there’s something raw in his tone, something unguarded that catches you off guard. 

Your heart stutters.

“Jake, I literally called you this morning,” you tease, your tone light and sweet. But still, you can’t resist, “I miss you too.”  

“You don’t sound convincing enough,” his eyes narrow at you, the pout forming on his lips quickly turning into a small smirk. “Say it like you mean it.” 

“Fine,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “I miss you so, so much Sim Jaeyun, that it’s physically painful and I might conbust on the spot if I don’t see you soon. Happy?” 

“Very,” he grins into the camera, making your heart beat faster. Ugh. "But please don't combust for me. Who else am I supposed to call every day?"  

"Oh, please, you'd survive," you shoot back, smirking. "I'm sure anyone else would be more than happy to fill the spot."  

Jake clicks his tongue, shaking his head dramatically. "Nope, no one could keep with you, Y/N. You're a handful."  

"Excuse me?" You scoff, mock offense all over your face. "You're calling me a handful? Jake, who's the one that texts me random song lyrics at 3AM and expects me to interpret their deep meaning like it's poetry?"  

"Okay, first of all, they are deep," he argues, his grin widening into something boyish and utterly unfair. "And second of all, I know you secretly love it."  

You let out a laugh as you roll onto your side, propping your phone against the pillow next to you.  

"Maybe I do," you admit with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant despite the smile on your face. "Or maybe I don't. That's up to you to find out."  

Jake shakes his head, laughing softly, his eyes twinkling as they linger on your face. 

"You really are a handful, Y/N," his voice teases while his eyes remain on you through the screen, as if studying you, and it makes your stomach flip.  

You glance away, suddenly feeling shy again under his unwavering gaze, "Stop looking at me like that."  

"Like what?" His voice is innocent, his eyebrows lifting in feign obliviousness.  

"I don't know—like you're trying to memorize my face or something," you mutter, your cheeks burning.  

"Maybe I am," his voice dips, low and soft. "Honestly wouldn't complain if that's the last thing I ever got to remember."  

His words hit you square in the chest, and despite how ridiculously corny they are, they manage to take your breath away. You don't know if you'll ever get used to this newly discovered side of Jake—the one that speaks so candidly, so sweetly—like you're the only person in his universe.  

But honestly? You love it. You love how he makes you feel, how his words wrap around you perfectly like they were tailor made just for you. But as much as you love it, you fear it too.  

Because the more you fall into this feeling, the more you wonder if there's anything solid beneath it. Despite all the soft words shared and sweet nothings exchanged, at the end of the day, deep down inside you can't help but ask yourself if his words, if he, is even yours to begin with. 

"Jake..."  

"Hmm?" His voice is gentle now, the teasing edge in his voice fading.  

"You really mean it, don't you?" You ask, your voice quieter now, the question laced with your vulnerability. "You're serious about...this? About us?"  

"Of course I am," he answers without hesitation. His soft eyes stay trained on you as he sits up in his spot in bed, as if to show just how serious he is. He lets out an exhale, as if mentally encouraging himself to continue, "I know we're not...whatever this is, officially yet. But I do know that I like what we have."  

He brings his phone closer, a small smile on his face, his expression earnest, "And that I like you. A lot."  

You swallow hard, his words settling in your chest in the best way possible. Because despite everything—the doubts, the undefined boundaries—you can't deny the truth of how you feel.  

"Me too," you admit, your voice steady and honest. "I like what we have too. And I like you."  

You pause, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you feel the remainders of your walls crumbling down, "You make me happy, Jake. Like annoyingly happy."  

"Good. Because you make me happy too," His smile spreads wide, the kind that is contagious and could light up an entire room. "Annoyingly happy, if we're being specific."  

You roll your eyes again, though you're smiling just as much, "We really are insufferable, aren't we?"  

"Oh, completely," Jake nods, his tone playful. He's more relaxed, back to leaning against his headboard as he looks at you with a softened gaze. "We'll figure it out, Y/N. I promise. Whatever this is, or whatever it becomes, I'm not going anywhere. And honestly? I just can't wait to see you. Finally."  

"Me too," you perk up, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you bring your phone closer, "It feels like it's been forever. This tour feels so much longer than the other ones for some reason."  

"It does," Jake hums in agreement, his eyes thoughtful. "But you know what? I think It's because, this time...I actually have something waiting for me. Something—or someone—I want to come home to. And that makes every day feel so much longer."  

You think, at this point, you should check yourself into the emergency department for the sheer amount of times you thought your heart was going to pound out of your body from Jake's words alone.  

“You're ridiculous," you laugh, the sound bubbling out so naturally you couldn't hold it back even if you tried. "It's getting kind of out of hand how cheesy you are, Jake."  

"And yet," he fires back with a smirk, "you love it. Admit it. I've cracked the code."  

"Maybe I do," you tease, repeating your words from earlier as the corners of your mouth tug up into a smile you can't suppress. "But don't let it get to your head."  

"Too late," he grins. "It's already there."  

Jake [2:15AM] : can I call you?   Y/N [2:16AM]: jake isnt it like 2AM for you?   Jake [2:16AM]: well…yea but I was thinking about you so… 

Your feet are kicking before you even realize, and before you can type up a response, your phone lights up with Jake's name and contact picture. 

“Hi,” you answer softly, trying not to let the giddy smile growing on your face take over. 

“Hey pretty,” he greets, voice warm and easy as he brings a hand through his messy hair. The lights in his room are off, and the dim glow of his phone screen casts a soft light over his features, making him look unfairly good for someone who should be fast asleep.  

“You have two seconds to give me a good reason why you’re here talking to me instead of getting a good night’s rest before your concert tomorrow,” your eyes narrow in mock disapproval as you give him a knowing look.  

Jake laughs lightly, “Hey! Okay, hear me out. I couldn’t sleep, so I did something.”  

You raise an eyebrow, “You did something? That sounds ominous, I’m scared.”  

“Yeah. For you,” he states plainly, leaving you even more confused for a second more before he continues. “I made you a playlist.”  

Your brain stalls at how simple he says it—so casual, as if not packed with so much meaning.  

“A playlist? You—wait, why?”  

Jake shrugs, “I don’t know—I guess I just wanted you to hear what I hear when I think about you. Which, by the way, is a lot. So..”  

You blink at the screen, your mouth slightly agape at the boy who's watching you with that lopsided grin that makes it practically impossible to function. You scramble to collect yourself, but the more you try, the worse it gets, and by now, you think he definitely took some secret class on how-to-make-Y/N-completely-flustered.  

And aced it.  

And of course, he notices—because Jake always notices.  

“You okay there?” His voice breaks you out of your overwhelming thoughts, his teasing tone laced with curiosity.  

“Define okay,” you mutter, rubbing a hand over your face in an attempt to cool down the warmth spreading like wildfire across your cheeks. “Because if it means not feeling like a complete fool over a guy who’s halfway across the world, then no, I’m absolutely not okay.”  

Jake lets out a low laugh, the sound affectionate as he leans closer to the camera, the light reflecting off his shining eyes, “If it helps, you’re not the only one losing your mind here.”  

“Oh yeah?” you arch an eyebrow, “What’s your excuse, Sim?”  

“My excuse?” He tilts his head with a small, exaggerated frown, pretending to think. “Hmm…let’s see…I’m hopelessly into this girl who somehow makes being teased fun, who makes me smile just by hearing my name come out her mouth, and who—“  

“Okay! Stop, stop, enough,” your voice strangled as you try to talk through the fit of giggles you couldn’t hold down. “You’re gonna kill me, Jake. Like, actually. I’m not strong enough for this.”  

Jake laughs at your flustered reaction, holding up a hand of surrender, “Fine, fine. But seriously, look.”  

You hear the sound of faint typing in the background before your phone buzzes with a text containing a link.  

“It’s called Songs That Remind Me of Y/N. Creative, right?”  

You open the link, and your thoughts are dazed at the sight of the endless playlist of songs. Some new to you, some you recognize—all of them feeling like little pieces of Jake's heart he's handing to you.  

"I think it's perfect," you murmur softly, scrolling through the titles, the warmth and appreciation for him now feeling almost too overwhelming.  

"Yeah?" Jake's eyes shine with a mixture of pride and hope as he watches your reaction.  

"Yeah," you repeat, switching your phone screen back to his face and giving him a genuine smile. "I love it. Thank you, Jake."  

Jake hums in response, the look on his eyes gentle as a beat of comfortable silence falls between you two.  

"Well, I should probably sleep for real now, but...listen to it when you miss me, okay? Because chances are, I'm probably doing the same."  

You pause, letting the weight of his words settle over you—vulnerable, yet undoubtedly honest. "Deal. I'll listen to it right now, then."  

"Good," his smile grows, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Because I am too. I miss you, too."  

You both linger for a moment, neither wanting to end the call just yet, simply enjoying each other's pure, raw presence.  

"Sweet dreams, Jake," you finally say, your voice gentle as you slowly let sleep take over. 

"Only if they’re about you," he quips, grinning.  

You roll your eyes, your chest feeling lighter, "Go to bed, Sim."  

"Yes, ma'am," he winks, and with one last fond look, he ends the call, leaving you smiling at your screen like the absolute fool he's turned you into.  

"I can't believe you're finally coming back tomorrow," you murmur into the phone, your voice soft but buzzing with excitement as you take in the sight of Jake sprawled out on his bed. The dim glow of his phone highlights just enough of his face to remind you how impossibly cute he is—even with the pillow creases on his cheek.  

"I know," Jake sighs dramatically, flopping onto his side. His head sinks into the pillow, and you hear a soft fwump as he shifts to find a comfortable spot. "I just wish I wasn't landing so late. If I could, I'd come see you the second I land. Like, bags in hand, running to your door."  

"You'd probably trip and knock yourself out with your carry-on, Jake," you snort but then smile, the imagine of Jake rushing to get to you playing in your head.  

"First of all, I'm very athletic," Jake raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Second, that's exactly what would happen, but at least I'd be unconscious on your doorstep, which is still closer to you than I've been in months."  

Your heart does a little flip at the sound of the sincerity in his voice as you try to keep your tone casual, "It's okay, Jake. I'm not going anywhere. We'll see each other the next day? If you're free, maybe."  

Jake's face softens in that stupidly adorable way he always does when he knows you're just trying to play it cool. "Free or not, I'll find a way. Nothing's stopping me from seeing you, Y/N. Not jet lag, not my schedule, not even my manager if he tries to barricade me in the building."  

A giggle escapes you, partly at his sheer determination and partly to cover up the butterflies constantly causing the havoc in your stomach when it comes to him. And Jake, of course, looks all smug, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. Typical Jake—sweet, determined, and impossibly endearing.  

But as much as his words make your cheeks warm, there's another reason why you're holding back your smile.  

Because, despite what Jake thinks, you're going to see him much sooner than he expects. All thanks to a message you got earlier from the group's manager:  

Y/N! Hope you’re doing well! We all miss you and can’t wait to see you soon! As you know, the boys are returning tomorrow late at night, but the staff and I want to plan a little surprise party at their apartment, they have no idea. The team’s already prepping everything. We’d love for you to come—it wouldn’t be the same without you. 10 PM! See you! 

You're practically vibrating with excitement, each passing minute on the call with Jake making it harder and harder to not just blurt it out and tell him you'll be seeing him in less than 24 hours. And, somehow, hearing his sleepy voice on the other side of the call, completely oblivious, just makes it even harder to contain yourself.  

Jake's brows furrow as he watches you try (and fail) to suppress your grin, "What's up with you? You're smiling so much, and I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything that funny."  

"Me?" You blink innocently, even though your heart skips a beat. But you shrug casually, masking your smile with a feigned yawn. "Nothing's up, you've just been acting too cute tonight. That's all."  

"You're lucky you're cute," Jake narrows his eyes at you, but even you can see through the dim lighting the red creeping across his face, "And that I'm tired. Or else I'd call you out for how you're gaslighting me right now."  

"Gaslighting?!" You sputter out, breaking out into laughter. "How am I gaslighting you for calling you cute?"  

"Because I know you're hiding something—" Jake replies, his pout audible in the way his voice drags. He yawns mid-sentence, the soft sound and the image of his eyes fluttering closed making your heart melt. "—and you're using my sleep-deprived state against me. It's not fair."  

"I'm not hiding anything!" You protest, your face one second away from cracking into a guilty smile. "Go to sleep—you're barely holding it together over there."  

"Like I'd ever fall asleep on you," he mutters, his voice heavy with drowsiness. "You're way too important for that."  

His words hit you like a train, and you have to physically restrain yourself from squealing, burying your face in your pillow before you let out a strangled, "Okay, enough sap for one night, Romeo. Go to bed."  

"Mmhm, fine, fine," Jake hums before he yawns again. "Goodnight, pretty. Dream sweet dreams, okay?"  

You let out a breath, losing the last remaining bits of your composure at this point—but in the best way possible, of course.  

"Goodnight, Jakey. I'll see you soon."  

The day flies by in a whirlwind of anticipation and sheer chaos, the emotional hurricane brewing up inside you rooting from one source and one source only.  

Because ever since you woke up this morning, every step, every sight, every breath was haunted by one inescapable thought: 

Jake.  

The morning was a blur of pacing around your room like a Sims character who was glitching after being told to "Go Here", overthinking every possible scenario for how tonight—when you finally see Jake in person—could go down.  

Because, really—how exactly do you approach the boy you've been friends with for years, who you've fallen for, in a room filled with people, including yours and his closest friends, all while pretending your heart is trying its hardest to not control, alt, delete itself?  

Not exactly something you can Google.  

Like, do you hug him? Does he hug you? What if he doesn't hug you? (Unacceptable, you decide, before pacing faster.)  

By the time afternoon rolls around, you're about 78% sure you've developed three-and-a-half migraines from the sheer pressure of it all. Not to mention, the borderline illegal amount of caffeine coursing through your veins isn't helping—why did you think drinking four cups of coffee was a good idea? (You didn't. Your brain has officially gone rogue.)  

And now, here you are. The buzzing apartment of the boys is alive with the sounds of laughter, the crinkle of party streamers being hung up, and two staff members arguing about where to put the over-dramatically large "WELCOME HOME" banner. You, along with everyone else, await for the signal, passing time by keeping up small conversation with the friends and staff you've gotten to know over the years—all the while you desperately try to keep your nerves from causing a mental crash out right here and now.  

Eventually, one of the staff gets the alert that the group has landed and is minutes away, the energy immediately shifting, both in the apartment and mentally. You settle in place in the back of the crowd, near the door but not too near the door—because 1) you're 99.99% sure you're not emotionally stable enough to be front and center, and 2) the staff and camera crew are already hogging the entrance as if this was the world's greatest comeback (and spoiler alert—to you, it really is.)  

The lights dim, the chatter fades, and the room hums with anticipation. And meanwhile? Your heart won't. Stop. Pounding.  

Any second now.  

Your nerves bubble up even more than you thought is humanly healthy, and you're not sure if you're about to a) pass out, b) puke, c) or both.

Simultaneously.  

The sound of multiple footsteps echoes faintly in the hallway, followed with muffled voices—one of them the unmistakable sound of Jake's laughter. Your breath catches.  

And then the door swings open.  

"SURPRISE!"  

The boys freeze in the doorway, their suitcases still in hand, the looks of genuine, yet pleasant, confusion plastered on all their faces. Sunghoon's eyes dart to the snacks table, Jay looks like he's deciding whether to laugh or roll his eyes, Sunoo is on the verge of tears, and Jake—Jake looks beautifully, stupidly confused.  

Your eyes immediately find Jake's face, like some natural gravitational pull you can't fight, and suddenly it hits you: he's here. In front of you. No blurry video calls, no glitchy Wi-Fi interruptions—just Jake.  

It feels surreal, like you're living in a sugar-induced dream that you aren't sure of is real yet or not. Last time you saw him in person, he was merely just Jake, one of your best friends, your go-to guy for bad jokes and late-night rants about life. But now? Now he's Jake—the boy who's somehow become the main character of your life (and brain capacity) over the past five months.  

Every memory of your late-night calls, every teasing smile, every time his sweet, groggy voice promised he'd prove himself to you—it all comes rushing back. Like those cheesy montage scenes in a rom-com, except instead of a whimsical romantic song playing in the background, it's the sound of your brain, and heart, screaming WHAT NOW Y/N?! 

But then, finally, his eyes land on you.  

The moment your eyes meet, you think your lungs give up on life. Breathing? Never heard of it. It's like someone hit the pause button on the entire universe, and you're convinced that the only thing to ever exist is Jake looking at you with that soft, unreadable expression.  

But you manage half a second of calm—half a second—before that softness on his face disappears. Just as quickly as it appeared, it's replaced by...something else. Something you can't quite put your finger on. Something you've never thought could exist on his face. A flicker of...conflict? Hesitation? Like he's staring straight at you…but also from miles away at the same time.  

His jaw tightens slightly—so slightly only you would notice with how intently you're looking at him—and for a split second, his hands fidgets at his side before he quickly clasps it over the handle of his suitcase. And right as you process it, right as you're about to convince yourself it's just the million grams of caffeine rushing through your blood that's making you hallucinate and see things— 

He looks away.  

He looks away.  

He looks away. As if you're not even standing there, as if he didn't just short-circuit your entire brain. His attention shifts to the nearest staff member, greeting them with a quick nod, and suddenly he's smiling and laughing at something they're saying like nothing just happened.  

And just like that, the universe hits the play button again, and you're left standing there—staring, blinking, wondering if the last thirty seconds of your life was, indeed, a caffeine-induced hallucination after all. Surely. Right?  

Because Jake definitely didn't avoid you on purpose. Nope. Because that would be insane. Insane, you think to yourself, as the invisible angel on your shoulder continues to whisper into your ear the same sweet words Jake's been telling you the past five months about how much he cares for you, how much he likes you—remember all those times he said it?  

Right. Right. Of course, he does. But still, you stand there frozen, trying to ground yourself, even though your hands start fidgeting at your sides anyway. Great. Fantastic. Cool, cool, cool. This is fine. 

You mentally curse yourself for not being closer to the door after all, and then, you mentally curse every single person in this room for not magically gaining telepathic powers and knowing that you, personally, were trying to have a moment.  

It's fine. You'll find him again. He's just too preoccupied with all the staff members and people to greet. Busy Jake. Social Jake. You're just imagining things. Definitely.  

Trying to distract yourself, you glance around the apartment, everything suddenly feeling suffocating. Maybe a snack. Maybe a drink. Maybe a portal to another dimension. 

Shaking your head out of your spiraling thoughts, you bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself and turn away from the crowd, quickly settling yourself near the beverage table, pouring yourself a cup of...whatever this is—your mind too cloudy to even bother looking at the sign on the table.

You don't know how much time passes, and frankly, you don't even know if you're fully conscious. Your mind is still living in the past, lingering in that moment where you locked eyes with Jake for the first time in five months, and despite all the overthinking you did this morning of all the possible scenarios that could happen—this was not one of them.  

You're about to pour yourself a second drink just to keep your thoughts busy when you feel a tap on your shoulder.  

"Y/N!"  

Before you can fully turn around, you're engulfed in a warm hug, the familiar scent of Jungwon's cologne immediately grounding you, "Oh god, I missed you. Took me forever to find you with all these people."  

"Jungwon!" You exclaim, a genuine smile lighting up your face despite the emotional tug-of-war in your chest, because, of course, leave it to your best friend to immediately ease your inner panic. You squeeze him back, playfully ruffling his hair as you pull away, "I can't believe they made you grow out your hair. Now you actually look older than me for once."  

He stares at you, blinking. "Y/N. I am older than you."  

"Literally by a week. We all know I'm mentally older," you deadpan, crossing your arms.  

"Okay, I take it back. I didn't miss you after all," he scoffs as you laugh, pulling him into another hug for good measure just to annoy him.  

"I'm so glad you guys are back," you say as Jungwon grabs the drink in your hand and takes a sip himself as he listens to you. "I was dying of boredom without you guys."  

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, "Uh-huh. Definitely didn't sound like boredom all those nights you called Jake at 2AM."  

You freeze. Oh. Great. The one topic you were trying to avoid (how you were going to avoid it—given you're at his literal apartment, with his literal group members, and literal staff members that all work for him—you're not sure. Avoidance was a doomed plan from the start, I fear).  

But before you could answer, Jungwon continues, "So...are you guys, like, a thing now? I know you guys were just talking this whole time, but now that we're back, are you guys gonna be in a relationship and all that stuff? Because if so, I need a heads-up. As much I love you both, I don't know if I can stand you two being all couple-y right in front of me—oh, and also—"  

"Jungwon." 

"—if he hurts you in any way, I swear to god I will not hesitate to—"  

"Jungwon!"  

He stops, wide-eyed, before flashing you a sheepish smile. "Sorry. But seriously, what's happening? You haven't given me any updates!"   

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. Because if he had asked you yesterday—or even an hour ago—you would've been able to answer confidently. But now? After Jake's apparent Olympic-level avoidance of you? You're not so sure anymore.  

"I...I don't know," you mumble, the words barely audible. Jungwon tilts his head, leaning closer to catch them.  

"What do you mean, you don't know? You guys haven't talked about it?" His brows furrowing as he studies your face, clearly picking up on your hesitation in true best friend fashion.  

"I, uh, I haven't...seen him yet," you admit, hoping the crack in your voice doesn't reveal the real reason you haven't approached the boy in question. "Everyone's busy, and I didn't want to get in the way."  

Jungwon gives you a look like you just said the earth is flat.  

"Get in the way? Y/N, you're insane. This is the guy who's been counting down the days to see you. If anything, everyone else is in his way."  

You give him a helpless shrug, but Jungwon isn't having it. He grabs your shoulders and spins you around, pointing across the room to one of the other snack tables past the crowds of people.

"Look. He's right there. Alone. Perfectly free to talk to you. Go."  

Your eyes land on Jake, back facing you and Jungwon, casually scooping chips into a bowl. You hesitate, scanning his relaxed posture, and the knot in your stomach tightens. Because that's exactly the problem. He's perfectly free. And if he's so excited to see you, how come he hasn't spoken to you yet?  

But before you can voice your doubts, Jungwon gives you a not-so-gentle nudge forward, "Go talk to him before I carry you over there myself."  

And next thing you know, Jake's right there. In front of you. His back is to you still, his eyes scanning the various snacks lined on the table, completely unaware of the full-on mental breakdown occurring just behind him.  

This is your moment, you tell yourself, despite the endless alarms going off in your brain. Every single nerve in your body is on high alert, screaming at you to abort mission, abort! But before you can give in to your panic, your hand is already reaching out, lightly tapping his shoulder.  

"Jake!"  

Jake turns around, and for a moment—a fleeting, fragile moment—you catch it. The way his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you. The way his lips part as if they're about to break into that familiar smile you've missed for months. But just as quickly, similar to earlier, it vanishes, replaced by that flicker of hesitation, and it's enough to make your breath catch.  

"Y/N."  

Your name on his lips used to sound like a warm promise. Now?

Now it feels like an afterthought. 

His voice is calm, steady—too steady, stripped of every ounce of emotion, and not at all like someone who's been counting down the days to see you. He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze flickering to the crowd behind you before reluctantly meeting yours, "It's been so long."  

Your stomach sinks. That's all he had to say? You were completely wrong. You spent precisely 23 minutes of your morning debating if he was even going to give you a hug—but now? Screw the hug, he won't even give you a full sentence. Something's off, and your mind races to figure out what happened, as if you missed a major chapter of your own life.  

Trying to ignore the sharp pang of something lodging itself in your chest, you offer a small smile, hoping to break the tension.  

"Are you...okay? I thought...I don't know, I thought you'd be more excited to see me," the words spill out before you can stop them, and you want to crawl into a self-dug hole from how raw and vulnerable you feel.  

Jake shifts uncomfortably, glancing at the floor, then at you, "No, yeah, of course I am. I'm just...really tired. The flight, you know. And all this," he pauses to gesture at the environment around you two, "it's a lot."  

You stare at him in disbelief, waiting for him to crack—silently begging for some sign of the Jake you thought you knew. But all you get is a shrug.  

A shrug.  

Suddenly, his words feel like a punch to the gut, let alone the way he can't even fully look you in the eyes. In just those few seconds, the invisible angel on your shoulder—whose voice sounded just like Jake's—whispering those promises into your ears suddenly disappeared with no trace in sight, as if it was never there—as if it was never yours—in the first place. Every late-night call, every whispered promise, every shared laugh. 

As if they never belonged to you.  

You swallow hard, trying to keep the growing lump in your throat from choking you, hoping your emotional turmoil isn't blatantly obvious to the boy in front of you.  

"Right," you murmur, nodding as if his excuse makes perfect sense. But it doesn't. "That's...understandable."  

The silence that follows is suffocating. Not the comfortable kind of warm silence you two used to share, but the awkward, unbearable kind that makes you claw at your own skin and makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole right then and there.  

Jake shifts again, and for a moment, his eyes meet yours. There's something there—but before you can grasp it, a voice from the crowd calls his name.  

"I—I should go," he mutters quickly, stepping back. His voice is quiet, his tone almost apologetic, but his words feel like he's hammering the nails to your coffin. "I'll...see you later though, yeah?"  

He doesn't wait for an answer. He's gone before you can say anything, before you can process his words, and for the second time that night, he leaves you standing there with your heart in pieces and your thoughts in chaos.  

For a moment, you swear you're paralyzed. You can't move. Can't breathe. Your vision blurs as every doubt you'd buried for months comes rushing back, screaming in your face louder and crueler than ever. You've never felt smaller, more foolish.  

Your heart beats erratically now, fighting against the realization of the truth settling in your chest—a  heaviness so suffocating it threatens to take you under. The Jake who stood in front of you just now—guarded, distant, a stranger—was so unlike the boy who had made you laugh until your sides ached, who'd stayed up with you on countless late nights, sharing secrets no one else knew.  

The Jake who made promises.  

Your mind spirals. Maybe...maybe those promises were never meant to be kept. Maybe they were just words to fill the time.  

Maybe you were just someone to fill the time.  

Your breath starts to pick up and you're frantically scanning the room, desperate for an escape from your thoughts through any familiar face. Your eyes finally land on Ni-ki and Heeseung casually sitting on one of the couches, their carefree laughter a stark contrast to your inner implosion. You beeline to them, forcing a smile on your face as you plop down beside them.  

"Y/N!" Ni-ki grins the moment he spots you, scooting over to make room. "Where've you been hiding? Thought you ditched us for good."  

"I've been here,“ you give the boys a small smile, praying they don't notice the way your hands tremble as you sit down, “just...mingling."  

Heeseung raises an eyebrow at the faint crack in your voice, but doesn't push further, "Well, we all missed you. Pizza pig-out sesh and games tomorrow? You can tell us everything we've been missing out on."  

You laugh, trying to keep the conversation light, but it comes out shaky, your voice tight under the weight of your hidden emotions, "I think it's you guys who need to catch me up."  

Ni-ki tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at you, "Are you okay? You look...off. What—did someone spill punch on you? Lemme guess, was it Jake?"  

At his name, the knife in your stomach twists even deeper, and you look away, hoping they don't notice the way your face falls.  

But Heeseung notices. Of course. His gaze sharpens, the playful teasing in his expression replaced with a softened concern, "Y/N...what's going on?"  

"I'm fine," you reply a little too quickly, your voice a little too high. You plaster a smile on your face, turning back towards the two boys, concern written all over their faces. "Just tired. Long day."  

Neither of them look convinced, but before Heeseung can say anything else, Ni-ki nudges him and gestures towards something across the room.  

"Hey...isn't that—"  

You follow Ni-ki's gaze, and you immediately wish you didn't. 

Because just like that, your world crumbles.  

There she is—Jenn.  

You're not even wondering when she got here, how she got here, or even why she's here in the first place. No, not even.  

Because all that's occupying your mind right now is the way she's there, perched comfortably on Jake's lap on one of the couches in the distance, her arm draped casually over his shoulder.  

The way she's laughing freely at something he says, her hand lightly brushing against his as if it's second nature, her fingers briefly pushing a strand of hair away from his face.  

The way Jake doesn't even flinch, the way he doesn't pull away.  

The way he smiles at her.  

That same smile—the one you've spent weeks convincing yourself was yours—now feels like a cruel joke.  

And that does it. For the first time that night, despite all you endured, you shatter.  

You force yourself to look away, but it's too late. Your chest hollows out deeper and deeper with every passing second, until all you're left with is a final realization:  

Maybe you never really had him at all. He was never yours in the first place.  

Ni-ki and Heeseung exchange glances before looking at the expression on your face—all the color drained, as if you were merely just a body, paralyzed. Both of them open their mouths, but nothing comes out, clearly unsure of what to say, but you don't give them the chance. You're already standing, grabbing your bag at your side with trembling hands.  

"Y/N, wait—" Heeseung starts as both him and Ni-ki stand up with you, but you shake your head, his voice distant and muffled as if he's speaking to you underwater.  

"I need some air," you mumble, but you're sure neither of them hear you, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Before they can stop you, you're already weaving through the crowd, your vision blurring as you fight the overwhelming urge to break down. You stop at the door, your eyes quickly scanning the cluttered floor for your shoes. For a moment, you think you've made it—escaped the suffocating air and heartbreak clawing at your throat—but a mistake you didn't mean to make stills you.  

You glance over your shoulder, and there he is.  

Jake's eyes meet yours, and the world comes to a stop. His easy smile slips from his face and is immediately replaced by a flicker of panic, his brows drawing together as if he's just realized something, but you don't stick around to analyze it.  

Not when your heart is already in pieces on the floor.  

You quickly look the opposite way, fighting the sting of burning tears threatening to spill over as your fingers fumble desperately with the zipper of your coat when you hear a concerned voice from behind you.  

"Y/N?" Jungwon's familiar voice cuts through your haze, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "What—where are you going?"  

"Home," you whisper, avoiding his gaze as you finally manage to get your coat on, turning towards the door.  

Suddenly, Jungwon steps in front of you, a firm frown on his face, "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Talk to me—"  

"Jungwon, I need to go," you look up at him as your voice cracks for the nth time that night, feeling Jake's set of eyes on you still, "Please, Won."  

He hesitates, clearly confused but more worried over anything else, "Okay, but I'm driving you."  

You sigh, shaking your head, "No, it's fine—"  

"I'm driving you," Jungwon repeats, leaving no room for argument as he's already grabbing his coat and walking out the door.  

Not bothering to look behind you to see if Jake's still watching, you follow Jungwon out to the hallway, the chill of the air feeling like a fresh wave of emotions crashing over you all at once: embarrassment, anger, heartbreak.  

You're too caught up in your spinning thoughts to even notice the sound of frantic footsteps behind you until a voice cuts through the silence.  

"Y/N."  

His voice is quiet, almost drowned out by the muffled hum of music and laughter seeping from the party you should've escaped from a long time ago.  

But still, you hear it anyway—because of course you do. Because it's him. And no matter how much you wish you didn't, you'd silence the entire world just to hear that voice.  

And you hate it.  

You hate how your entire body freezes mid-step, you hate how every nerve within you comes alive at the sound of his voice, you hate how your heart stumbles, as if trying to root itself in the pain you've been trying so hard to outrun.  

You turn around slowly, against every ounce of logic telling you to keep walking. And when your eyes land on him—on the raw, desperate, almost broken look on his face—you hate yourself even more.  

Because even now, even after everything, your heart still sinks at the sight. And you hate how you give him the power to break you with just one look.  

“Can we talk?” Jake asks, his voice low and unsteady as he takes a small step towards you.  

From beside you, Jungwon hesitates, his gaze flickering between you and Jake. After a beat, he nods, "I'll get the car. Wait here."  

He spares Jake a final look of warning before nudging you for comfort and stepping into the elevator.  

The elevator doors close, leaving you and Jake alone in the hallway, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.  

You swallow hard, your throat tight, but you steel yourself, "What do you want, Jake?"  

You shift your weight and instinctively cross your arms, a defensive barrier between you and the boy you spent too long letting into your heart. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in them makes your resolve falter. 

He takes a hesitant step towards you before exhaling shakily, running a hand through his hair.  

“I—I messed up tonight. I didn’t mean to...," he trails off, his words fumbling, his eyes searching yours in desperation, his heart breaking at the way your tears are a second away from falling over. 

"...to completely ignore me all night? Make me feel like nothing?" You finish for him, your quiet voice breaking despite your attempt to stay composed.  

"No. God, no. You're not nothing," he says quickly, his voice faltering on the last word. "Y/N, you matter so much to me."  

“Well it definitely didn't feel that way,” your voice is barely audible, but you finally look up at him, the hurt finally bubbling to the surface. “After everything you said—promised, everything we talked about…” 

"I know, I just—" he hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. He takes a tentative step closer, his movements slow and careful, like he's afraid you'll break if he gets too close. "I was nervous." 

"It’s been so long, and I didn’t know what to say, how to act. I wanted to get it right—to make it perfect—but instead, I just—" he stops, dragging another frustrated hand through his hair. His eyebrows knit together in that familiar way that once made your heart flutter, but now only adds to the ache in your chest. 

You let out a hollow laugh, the bitter sound foreign even to your own ears, “Well, congratulations, Jake. You managed to mess it up anyway.” 

“Please,” he looks devastated, his hands trembling at his sides. “Y/N, please don’t think I don’t care about you. I do. More than you know. I just—I don't know how to do this. I panicked and I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear."  

"Then why was...," you look at him, your eyes still stinging from all the unshed tears as you take a shaky breath, “...why was she all over you tonight? Why didn’t you stop her?” 

He falters, his shoulders slumping under the weight of your question, “It wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t—I couldn’t—” 

“You couldn’t,” you echo, the words spilling out in a rush now, each one cutting him deeper. “I should've known. Let me guess, she wants to get back together, right?"  

Jake's silence is deafening, and it immediately answers your question. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. The way he looks at you—eyes wide and filled with regret, lips trembling as if searching for the right words—confirms everything you were afraid of. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, a shaky breath escaping your lips—a sound caught somewhere between a scoff and a choked sob. No matter how hard you try, the wall holding back your emotions cracks under the weight of it all. The doubts you’ve tried so hard to bury suddenly resurface, crashing over you like waves, each one carrying the sting of every insecurity, every fear you’ve ever had about this moment. Your chest feels tight, your heart splintering under the realization that everything you were afraid of might be true. 

"Jake, I can't do this," you whisper, shaking your head. "I can't be the person you lean on while you try to figure out what you want."  

"No, no—Y/N, I do know what I want," he pleads, his voice cracking as he tries to step closer. "And it’s you. Always been you, Y/N. Everything I said—I meant it."  

His words hang heavy in the air, the faint echo of the party music filtering through the cracks in the door and into the quiet hallway. You look away, refusing to let him see the way your tears finally spill over.  

"You promised," you let out softly and slowly, through your sniffles. “You promised you wouldn't hurt me. You said you'd prove that I could trust you, that I didn't have to be scared. You knew I was worried, Jake. And you...you hurt me anyways."  

"And I swear I meant every word I said. I still do," Jake says, his voice desperate as he shakes his head. He steps even closer, his hand reaching out and brushing against yours, but you pull back before he can close the distance. "You have to believe me. Please, Y/N. You're the only one."  

You shake your head again, the tears now freely rushing down your cheeks despite your best efforts, "I—I don't know if I can believe that anymore, Jake. I want to, I really, really do. But tonight..."  

Jake’s face falls, the weight of your pain crashing into him all at once. His lips tremble as he struggles to hold himself together, his eyes turning glassy themselves. The sight of you—broken, because of him—cuts deeper than he thought was humanly ever possible. His voice is barely above a whisper, raw and pleading, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I—God, please. Please give me a chance.” 

You look at him—at the boy who became your safe space these past few months—and all you feel is the ache in your heart.  

"I can't do this right now, Jake," you finally let out through your broken voice as you take a step back. "I think I just need space."  

The words hang in the air like a death sentence. His breath hitches as if your words physically hit him in the face, "Y/N..." 

Your phone suddenly buzzes, a text from Jungwon letting you know he's outside. You glance down at it, then back at Jake. For a moment, you hesitate, your heart screaming at you to stay—to give him the chance he's yearning for. But your brain knows better. 

"I have to go," you murmur softly, as you take a final step back, turning away before more tears threaten to spill all over again. You force yourself to keep walking, fighting the overwhelming urge to look back—to let him pull you into his arms, where you wished so desperately you belonged.  

Frozen, Jake watches helplessly as you walk away, his chest tightening with every step you take. Everything feels like it's caving in, regret clawing at him the more he lets you walk further away. He opens his mouth to say something—anything—but the words fail him, silenced by the weight of his own mistakes.  

To Jake, the sounds of the party are now far in the distance, drowned out by the pounding in this ears. Instead, the hallway falls into a haunting silence, broken only by the faint echo of your retreating steps—a cruel reminder of what he's just let slip away.  

The car ride starts in complete silence, the only sound between you and Jungwon the soft hum of his engine and the faint sound of whatever playlist he was playing in the background. You stare out the window, watching the city lights blur together, your coat clutched tightly under your grasp as if it's the only thing keeping you sane.  

Jungwon glances at you out the corner of his eye, his hands steady on the steering wheel. He doesn't say anything at first, but you know him well enough to sense the storm brewing in his head.  

"Okay," he finally says, as if on cue, breaking the silence. "Spill."  

You don't respond, your eyes still fixed on the surrounding city breezing by you, as if the passing view could somehow erase the memory of him. Your fingers dig further into the fabric of your coat, your knuckles going numb.  

Jungwon gives you a few more moments of silence, but when you don't make any sign of responding, he speaks up again. 

"Y/N," his voice softens, but the edge of his concern cuts through. "Don't do that thing where you shut people out. Especially me, you know I hate that."  

"I'm not—" you start, but your voice wavers, and the lie dies on the tip of your tongue.  

“You are," he exhales sharply from beside you, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "Look, you don't have to tell me everything, but don't pretend you're fine when you're clearly not."  

The words sit heavy in the air as you swallow hard, your throat burning as you finally whisper, "It's stupid, Jungwon."  

He doesn't take his eyes off the road, but his tone is firm, "I'm sure if it's got you looking like this, it's not stupid."  

You want to argue, to tell him to just let it go, but the hurt pressing down on your chest is too much. The ache in your body threatens to take over again, and you hate it. You hate how the tears form again, how you can still see Jake looking at you like that, like you were breaking right in front of him and he didn't know how to stop it.  

Jungwon waits. He doesn't push, because he knows you. He knows you're just hurting, struggling to grasp your overwhelming emotions, so he gives you the time you need. But his quiet patience is unbearable, like he's peeling back every layer of your resolve just by being there, and eventually, you give in.  

"It's Jake," you finally choke out, the name tumbling from your lips like a curse.  

Jungwon doesn't respond immediately, but you can feel the shift in his demeanor. His jaw tightens, and his fingers flex against the wheel, "I figured as much honestly, after what I saw in the hallway, but what exactly happened, Y/N?"  

You shake your head, your voice shaky, "It doesn't matter. I—I just feel so stupid, Won. Like, how could I think..." 

You trail off, biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Jungwon gives you a softened glance, signaling you to continue whenever you're ready to.  

You take a deep breath before you speak up again, "How could I ever think I was good enough for him, you know?"  

There's a silence that follows after your words and you hear Jungwon take in a deep inhale.  

"This isn't on you, Y/N. This has nothing to do with whether you're enough or not," Jungwon's voice is steady, but there's a firm edge to it now. "Look, I don't want to overstep or anything...and I definitely don't want to vouch for him—especially right now but...are you sure he's not just freaking out?"  

You tilt your head over at the boy next to you, "Freaking out about what?"  

"You," Jungwon says simply like it's the most obvious thing in the world.  

"That doesn't make any sense," you start shaking your head. "Why would he—"  

"Because you're you," Jungwon interrupts, his tone matter-of-fact as he keeps his eyes trained on the road in front of him. "And Jake's a complete idiot, but even idiots get scared when they care about someone as much as he clearly cares about you."  

You blink, Jungwon's words sinking into all the cracks formed within you, "You really think he cares about me that much?"  

“Are you kidding?” Jungwon scoffs, his expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Y/N, the guy looks at you like you hung his moon and stars. Trust me, I’ve seen it.” 

And you don't know what comes over you, but Jungwon's words hit you like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the tears you've been holding back come rushing forward, hot and relentless. You cover your face with your hands, your body shaking as the sobs you've been swallowing all night finally make their way out.  

Jungwon quickly looks over at you and, without hesitation, glances over his shoulder to pull over to the side of the road, the soft clicking of the hazard lights mixing in with your cries. When he finally puts the car in park, he doesn't say anything and just leans back in his seat, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder—close enough to remind you he's there, but not too much to smother you.  

"I'm sorry," you manage to gasp out between sobs, your hands going up to wipe your face as all the overwhelming emotions finally take over you.  

"Don't," Jungwon says firmly, "Don't apologize for feeling like this."  

You take a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together as your sobs eventually start to slow down, "I just don't understand. If he cares so much, why does this hurt so bad?"  

"I don't think it's about how much he cares," Jungwon sighs, as if carrying your pain alongside you. "Sometimes...sometimes people care so much that they don't know what to do with it. They panic. They overthink. And they mess up in the worst ways because they don't know how to handle what they're feeling."  

You look up at him, your face still wet with tears, "So you're saying it's an excuse."  

"No," Jungwon replies, quickly shaking his head fervently. "Definitely not an excuse. Jake screwed up, Y/N. Big time. And it's 100% on him to fix that, not you. But—"  

He pauses and thinks for a second, his words deliberate, "—it doesn't mean his feelings aren't real. Or that he doesn't care about you."  

You look away, glancing down at your hands in your lap, fiddling with the hem of your coat as you take in Jungwon's words.  

"It's just feels like...like I'm the only one who got hurt here, Won. Like I'm the only one who..," you trail off, unable to form your thoughts into a coherent sentence, but leave it up to Jungwon to always fully understand you.  

"You're not the only one," he says softly. "He's hurting too, Y/N. Maybe not in the same way, and maybe he doesn't deserve any sympathy, but I can see it. I've seen it. Jake...Jake isn't Jake without you. And honestly? That idiot is probably tearing himself apart right now."  

Your lips part, but the words don't find you. Instead, you let the weight of Jungwon's words sink in, unsure what to do with how true they may be.  

"You don't have to forgive him right now," Jungwon adds after a moment. "Hell, you don't even have to forgive him at all. Honestly, that might satisfy me just a bit. But maybe...maybe you owe it to yourself to hear him out. Not for him, but for you."  

You turn to Jungwon, your lips forming into the smallest pout, "But what if it just makes everything worse?"  

He gives you a faint, grounding smile, equal parts reassuring and honest.  

"Then you walk away knowing you did everything you could—for yourself. And if it does come to that," he shrugs lightly, "we'll figure it out together."  

You're quiet for a long moment, the thought of walking away from Jake and everything he means to you terrifying you…but you know Jungwon's right. You owe yourself the chance to try—even if the unknown outcome fails you.  

With a shaky breath, you nod, brushing away the last of your tears, "Thanks, Jungwon."  

"You're welcome," Jungwon hums in acknowledgement before his lips curve into a small grin, the atmosphere lightening slightly, "but, uh, could you at least use the tissues in the glove compartment before my seats turn into a snot rag?"  

You manage to let out a small scoff of disbelief as you roll your watery eyes, "You're the worst."  

"Nah," Jungwon replies with a cheeky grin as he shifts the car back into drive, but not before he reaches over to ruffle your hair playfully. "C'mon. Let's get you home."  

The knocking at Jungwon’s door comes at the worst possible moment. 

He’s halfway through organizing his desk—something he only attempts when he’s too frustrated to sit still—and the last thing he expects to see when he swings the door open is Jake, standing there looking like he hasn’t slept a millisecond all night. 

Jungwon makes no sign of saying anything or making a move, just staring at the older boy in question. Jakes shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his messy hair, not used to seeing Jungwon in this sour, expressionless mood.  

"Hey," Jake finally says, his voice hesitant.  

“What do you want?” Jungwon deadpans, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He knows he sounds harsh, but, frankly, he doesn’t care.  

Jake falters for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground, "I...I need your help."  

Jungwon's eyes narrow, "With what, exactly?"  

He knows what, but he's not letting Jake off that easily. Not after last night.  

"With Y/N," your name hangs in the air between them as Jake's voice cracks, and Jungwon clenches his jaw before he lets out a frustrated sigh.  

"I don't think you're in any position to be asking me for help right now."  

"I know," Jake says quickly, his hands raising in surrender. "I know, okay? I screwed up big time. I—God, I don't even know where to start, Jungwon. I just...I don't want to make things worse."  

Jungwon lets out a bitter, humorless laugh, stepping back and motioning his head to let Jake enter his room, "You've already got a good head start on that, I see."  

Jake steps inside, awkwardly hovering near the door as Jungwon moves to sit on the edge of his own bed. He doesn't offer Jake a seat, and Jake doesn't ask for one.  

"She cried, you know," Jungwon says after a few moments of silence, his voice stone cold. "I had to pull over because she couldn't even hold it together long enough for me to get her home. I've known her my entire life, and I don't think I've ever seen her cry that hard, Jake."  

Jake flinches, the words physically hurting him, "I didn't mean to—"  

"Yeah, I know," the younger boy cuts him off, his voice sharp, his anger rising on behalf of you. "You didn't mean to hurt her. But you did. And now you're asking me to help you fix it like it's that easy."  

"It's not easy," Jake mutters quietly, his hands fumbling with the edge of his hoodie. "Nothing about this...none of it is easy. But I know I messed up, and I—I can't just leave things like this, I can't lose her, Jungwon. I care about her too much."  

Jungwon deadpans at his friend, fighting back the urge to scoff in his face, "If you cared about her, you wouldn't have let her walk out of that party looking like her entire world was falling apart."  

Jake looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with something Jungwon can't quite name...desperation, maybe. Or guilt. Or both.  

"I didn't know what to do," Jake finally admits, his voice still barely above a whisper, as if admitting to himself for the first time, too. "I saw her, and she looked so...broken. And I—I panicked, I didn't know what to do, and by the time I realized, she was gone."  

Jungwon leans back, groaning as he runs a hand over his face. The anger bubbling within him hasn't fully faded, but he knows there's something else now—something softer, something that makes it harder to keep his protective guard for you up.  

Because he knows Jake isn't lying.  

"You don't get to half-ass this, Jake," Jungwon finally says after he thinks to himself. "She's not some random girl you're trying to impress, she isn't Jenn. This is Y/N. If you want to fix things, you have to be ready to own up to everything. No excuses, no backing out. She deserves that much."  

Jake nods quickly, his eyes wide and hopeful at Jungwon's slight change in demeanor, “I will. I swear, I will.” 

"And don't think she's going to forgive you right away," Jungwon adds. "She's hurt. You have to give her time. This isn't about what you want—it's about what she needs."  

Jake swallows hard, nodding again, “I just want to talk to her. To explain. To tell her I’m sorry and—”  

His voice cracks, and he looks down, his hands trembling slightly. Jungwon lets out a sigh, his mixed feelings turning more into something closer to pity. Because as much as he wants to stay mad for your sake, he's known Jake long enough to know that he's a good guy—and that his heart is in the right place.  

But even more than that, he knows you. And he knows how much Jake means to you, even if you won't admit it, especially not now more than ever.  

"You're actually an idiot," Jungwon says after a few beats, his voice carrying a lighter tone now. "But for some godforsaken reason, knowing her, I think she might actually miss you."  

Jake looks up from his hands, his eyes searching Jungwon's face for any flicker of doubt, "You really think so?"  

Jungwon shrugs, standing up and moving towards his door, "I think you've got a lot of work to do if you want to earn her trust back. But...I think you still have a chance."  

Jake doesn't say anything as he follows Jungwon to the door, but the look on his face says enough—there's a new slight look of hope. It's small, but he's clutching onto it like it’s his lifeline.  

“You know," Jungwon says when he reaches the doorway. "Y/N’s not the type to let people in easily. She puts up walls—but with you…she let them down. You’re special to her, Jake, even if she doesn’t say it. Don’t throw that away. For her sake, and yours.” 

“I won’t,” Jake promises, his voice steady now. “Thank you, Jungwon.” 

Jungwon nods at the older boy before giving him a faint smile, "And just so you know, I defended you yesterday. So don't prove me wrong or I'm actually going to deck you."  

Jake lets out a weak laugh as he hangs outside Jungwon's door, "Noted. I promise I won't let her down again."  

Jungwon doesn’t respond, just closes the door with a soft click, and hopes—for all their sakes—that Jake means it.  

Jake [5:12PM]: hi Y/N   Jake [5:12PM]: i know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now. and i don’t blame you at all   Jake [5:13PM]: but i cant just stay silent and let this sit between us, and i value you too much to not respect you needing space and just show up at your door  Jake [5:14PM]: even though it’s killing me to stay away  Jake [5:14PM]: after you left the party last night, i went back inside. i told jenn that whatever we had in the past is exactly that, the past. and i swear to you, Y/N, there’s nothing between us. there hasn’t been for a long time. and it’s my fault for making it seem otherwise.   Jake [5:15PM]: and as for how i acted…i don’t even know where to start. i fucked up extremely. nothing will excuse my actions and i don’t expect you to forgive me. but i need to apologize properly, you deserve that much.   Jake [5:17PM]: please let me see you, Y/N. i don’t deserve it, and i don’t deserve you. but you mean everything to me, and i hate that i hurt you. and i promise, if you let me, i’ll do everything to make it up to you.  

You stare at the phone in your hand, the messages feeling like salt to an open wound. The words on the screen begin to blur together as tears prick your eyes, spilling over before you even realize it. You don't bother wiping them away—the sting in your chest too raw, too heavy. Each word feels like Jake is standing right there in front of you, his voice soft and broken, tangled with regret.  

You tell yourself to stop reading. You've already gone through the same messages at least a hundred times in the past ten minutes, overanalyzing each syllable as if they hold the answers to all of your questions.  

And yet, you can't stop.  

You want to be angry. You are angry. Or, at least, you think. Because beneath the flame of your anger that's already threatening to die out? There's an ache you can't ignore—a small, stubborn part of you that refuses to let go to the sincerity in his words, clinging onto the hope that he's telling you the truth.  

You mean everything to me, and I hate that I hurt you. I promise, if you let me, I'll do everything to make it up to you.  

The ache twists harder, curling into doubt. What if he means it? What if he's telling the truth?  

But of course, the fear rises just as quickly. Because what if he's not? What if you let him back in, and it all falls apart again? What if you let yourself believe in him, giving him the second chance he's asking for, only to have your heart shattered worse than before?  

And then, there's Jungwon's voice, soft but steady, cutting through the chaos brewing in your mind: "Even idiots get scared when they care about someone as much as he clearly cares about you."  

Your breath catches.  

Because that's the worst part. Knowing that maybe—just maybe—Jake really does care. Knowing that maybe he's telling the truth—and you're the one too afraid to take the risk, ready to build up the walls Jake's managed to get through.  

Your phone screen suddenly dims, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the moment. You blink rapidly, wiping at your face, your mind a mess of emotions you can't untangle or describe.  

Fear. Hope. Doubt. 

And something else—something you're afraid to admit, but you know is unmistakably real.  

And it's stronger than the fear churning in your chest—it's something that's pulling you forward.  

Your heart pounds almost out of your rib cage as you let out a shaky breath, the weight on your shoulders pressing harder and harder with every second you hesitate. The ache doesn't let up, but neither does your hope.  

So you stop thinking altogether, letting your heart take control instead.  

You shut your eyes, as if bracing yourself for a crash, take a deep breath, unlock your phone, and let your fingers fly across the screen, each word feeling like a leap off a cliff.  

You hit send.  

Y/N [5:30PM]: hi jake  Y/N [5:30PM]: you can come over 

The soft knock at your door startles you, even though you know it’s coming.  

“Y/N?” 

His voice. Jake’s voice.  

Your heart clenches painfully, a conflicting mix of longing and hurt washing over you all at once. It hasn't even been a full day since the party, but the weight of his absence has already hollowed you out, leaving a hole you can't ignore. You know he's the one who caused it—that the cracks in your heart are his doing—but at the same time, the stubborn part of you whispers that he's also the only one who can mend them.  

You make your way to the door, your movements hesitant as you crack it open, peek out, and...there he is.  

"Hi," Jake says softly.  

He's a mess. A beautiful, saddened mess—his hair messy, like he's been running his hands through it all day, his eyes rimmed with the kind of exhaustion that isn't just physical. One hand is buried deep in his jacket, and in the other— 

"Flowers?" You ask, raising a brow in surprise.  

Jake's ears turn red. "Yeah. Uh, I didn't know if you had a favorite, so I got—"  

You open the door wider, revealing the full bouquet—daisies, tulips, roses, all wrapped together in crinkled tissue paper.  

"—a little bit of everything," he finishes awkwardly, his voice trailing off, pausing for a second before holding them out to you with a sheepish smile.  

Your lips twitch subconsciously, despite everything.  

"Jake, you're literally allergic."  

His mouth opens, then closes, the redness from his ears now spreading to his cheeks.  

"Well, yeah, but—," Jake mumbles, shifting on his feet. "—not, like, deadly or anything dramatic like that."  

He pauses, his voice dropping into something softer, more vulnerable, "I just wanted you to have them. That's all."  

You feel your insides tighten, the sincerity in his voice getting to you. For a moment, all you can manage to do is stare at him—at the way his eyes are silently pleading, wide and unsure.  

You hesitate for a second, then step back and open the door wider.  

"Thank you," you say quietly, your fingers brushing against his as you take the bouquet, sending a flicker of warmth through you. "Come in."  

Jake hesitates, his eyes searching yours like he's not sure if he's actually allowed to. When you turn away and walk towards your kitchen, he finally steps inside, kicking off his shoes quickly and hovering by the door like he doesn't know what to expect next.  

You set the flowers down on the counter, adjusting them carefully before turning back to him. He's still standing there, stiff and uncertain, the distance between you feeling larger than ever before.  

"So..." You say, crossing your arms tightly across yourself, shifting your weight as a way to ground yourself—though the lump in your throat makes it feel impossible.  

Jake exhales shakily, his hands fidgeting by his sides and gaze darting to the floor before finally landing on you, "I came to apologize. Properly."  

You blink at him, expression unreadable, "You already said sorry."  

Your voice comes out sharper than intended, surprising even yourself, but the words leave before you can stop them. Jake flinches, just slightly, but he nods, knowing he deserved that. 

"Not like I should have," he says, stepping closer, his voice low and careful, like he's afraid you'll run out of your own apartment. "I know I messed up. I hurt you, and I hate that I did. I hate that I made you feel like you weren't enough or that someone else could ever compare to you, Y/N."  

Your arms tighten around yourself as if the words might knock the breath out of you as look away, unsure if you can meet the rawness in his eyes.  

"Last night," Jake continues, his eyes filling with guilt, "I didn't handle last night right. And not just how I handled Jenn, but I let my own insecurities and stupid fears of being perfect for you get in the way. I let it happen and mess everything up. I let you think that you didn't matter to me, and I will never forgive myself, Y/N."  

His words hang in the air, heavy yet sincere, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him as you process his words slowly.  

"And I don't expect you to forgive me either, Y/N," Jake's voice wavers before he continues, "but I need you to know that I'm so, so sorry. No excuses. For all of it—for making you feel like anything less than everything, for making you feel like you weren't my first choice. Because you are. You're my only, Y/N." 

His words hit you with a force that crashes over the walls you tried so desperately to build. They're overwhelming yet tender, like rediscovering a piece of yourself you hadn't even realized you lost. And you want to let them comfort you, you do. But the pain from last night lingers deep down, reminding you of why you built those walls in the first place.  

For a moment, the silence stretches on longer than you intend, the weight of his words settling in the air between you. Jake doesn't look away though—his gaze unwavering, vulnerable, and raw.  

As though he's laid himself bare before you, giving you the power to either accept or shatter him completely.  

When you finally find your voice, it trembles despite your best efforts, "Jake...I don't know if I can just forget what happened."  

"I'm not asking you to forget," he says quickly, taking another step closer until there's only a few feet left between you. "I just want the chance to fix us. I can't lose you like this, Y/N."  

Your breath catches at the proximity, his presence pulling you in like gravity. The pain from last night tries to claw its way back into your heart—sharp and bitter—but his warmth reminds you of something else that refuses to be ignored.  

That flicker of hope that's demanding your attention, screaming at you to just let him in—not just for his sake, but for you. 

You take a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. "Jake, I don't need you to...to be this perfect person. I don't need you to prove anything to me."  

You pause, pushing past the lump in your throat, "Because since the beginning, I always believed you. And...I think I still do. Even after last night, I still believe you, Jake. No matter how hard I try to."  

Jake lets out a breath he thinks he's been holding in for hours, "Really?"  

"Yeah," you nod slowly, as if reassuring yourself as much as him. "But I don't need any of your promises or proof or any of that. I just...I just need you as you."  

His eyes soften at you as he nods so quickly it's almost desperate.   

"And I need you to be honest with me, Jake," you continue before he can speak. "If we do this, I need to know I can trust you. Because I don't know if I can do this...this waiting game anymore."  

"You can," he says immediately, closing the distance between you two, making your breath hitch. You can see the way his hands are trembling, the slight quiver in his lips. "You can trust me. No more hesitation. I'm all in, Y/N. This is it for me, you're it."   

You search his face for any sign of doubt, any speck of hesitation. But all you find is his sincerity—so hopeful and so real—the kind that makes you want to let him in fully and let your walls crumble all over again.  

So you do.  

"Okay," you say softly, almost as if you're testing the word.  

Jake's eyes widen, the relief and hope flooding his features. Slowly, as if asking for permission, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours tentatively.  

"Okay?" He whispers, his voice barely audible to you as his eyes flicker between your hands and your face.  

You nod, your own hand turning over so your fingers curl around his in an instinctive gesture that feels so natural it makes you want to scream. The warmth of his touch feels like the first real comfort you've felt in forever, and it's enough to make your resolve slip.  

"But," you add softly, your eyes not leaving the way his hand wraps around yours so perfectly, "this doesn't mean everything's fine. We need to talk. We need to figure out where we stand, and where we go from there."  

Jake nods again, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, "We will. Whatever it takes, Y/N, I'll do it. I need you to know how much you mean to me and I'll never stop trying to show you that."  

You let out a shaky breath as you take in his words, finally looking up from your intertwined hands to meet his eyes, your own slowly filling with the tears you've been holding back. 

"You really hurt me, Jake," you say quietly, your voice breaking from the sheer weight of your vulnerability being laid bare.  

Jake's face crumbles instantly, guilt etched into every line of his expression. Without hesitation, his free hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb light brushing away the tears that fall, as if he's afraid you might pull away.  

Your eyes flutter closed at the warmth of his hand, and despite the emotions raging inside you, you let yourself lean into him. It feels both reckless, yet inevitable, like free-falling and trusting—knowing—he'll catch you.  

"I know," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion he can't swallow down. "And I'll spend as long as it takes to deserve you, Y/N. I'll never make you feel like that again."  

You nod weakly, and before you can think too much, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into the safety of his chest, his chin moving to rest on top of your head as his warmth envelops you completely.  

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself break, burying your face into his chest as the tears flow freely, the weight of everything finally breaking free as you let yourself melt into his tight embrace.  

It's not perfect. It's not a fix-all.  

But as Jake holds you close, whispering quiet reassurances into your hair, you know it's a start.  

And a start is all you need.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

epilogue:

“Hi, pretty.”  

“Hi, Jake.”

On the other end of the call, Jake lets out a playful scoff. Even with the slight lag, you can see his lips twitch into that familiar pout—the one that still gives you butterflies, no matter how many times you've see it now, even a year later.

“After all we’ve been through, you still won’t give me a cute pet name?” 

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin, “What do you want me to say? Hi, my handsome, perfect, kindest, funniest, boyfriend in the whole wide world?”  

Jake leans closer to the camera, his expression completely serious as if you should already know his answer, "...Yes." 

Giggles burst out of you, shaking your head at his antics. “You’re too cute to be doing all that, Jake. Pick a struggle.” 

He clutches his chest dramatically, “You know, what? You’re my struggle—I fly across time zones, run on three hours of sleep, and you still won’t give me a crumb of your affection?” 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And yet…,” Jake trails off with a teasing smirk, his voice dropping into that playful, yet low lilt that still makes your stomach flip to this day. "Here you are, calling me at 1AM in the morning.”  

Your cheeks flush as you glance away from the screen, trying to ignore the way his teasing gaze makes you feel, "Don’t' get confused, it's not like I wanted to or anything. I just figured someone should remind you to go to bed or else you'll look like a zombie tomorrow at the fanmeet."  

Jake laughs softly, the sound grounding you in a certain way only he ever can. "You're so thoughtful, babe. My number-one hater and number-one fan, all at once. I'm so lucky."  

You send him an air kiss, the teasing grin on your face mirrored by the fond one tugging at his lips. He looks at you like he did in that first-ever call way back then—like you're his whole world, and he can't believe you're real.  

"How's the jet lag this time?" You ask, steering the conversation to safer ground.  

"It's not so bad," he shrugs, despite the clear exhaustion in his voice. "At least this trip is only for a few days. Then I can come back to the comfort of our bed."  

You raise an eyebrow, "My bed."  

Jake's eyes narrow, "Our bed. Just admit it—you miss me."  

You pause. "Maybe. Just a little."  

His grin widens, and for a moment, neither of you say anything, the conversation lulling into an easy silence—the kind of warmth that only comes with knowing someone so well.  

Finally, you shift under your blanket, getting comfortable as Jake watches you through this screen, his gaze tender, as though memorizing the curve of your smile, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear.  

"You should sleep," you murmur, holding your phone closer to your face. The glow of your phone reflecting off your soft features sends palpations to Jake's chest so loud he almost doesn't hear your words. 

"Mm, I really should," Jake sighs, though he doesn't move an inch. "I'll talk to you soon, yeah?" 

"Mmhm," you hum, your eyes closing at the softness of his voice.  

“Sleep tight. I love you,” his says, voice soft and deliberate, making sure you feel every word. 

“Goodnight, Jakey,” you tease, letting the smirk creep into your voice, peeking an eye open just to catch his reaction. 

Jake groans dramatically, running a hand down his face, “Y/N…not this again.”  

You giggle, the fondness within you growing tenfold as you take in his face—the slight pout of his lips, his messy hair, his eyes shining with unwavering adoration for you. 

“I said I love youuu,” he whines, dragging out the last word, his lips tugging into the tiniest of smiles, his entire universe reflecting from his eyes.  

Finally, you give in, smiling sweetly.  

“I love you, too, Jake. You already know.”  

And you’ve never meant anything more.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Songs that Remind me of Y/N:

From the first call to forever—you've always been my favorite melody.   Yours, Jake <3

"As I Am" – Justin Bieber (ft. Khalid)  

"Daylight" – Taylor Swift 

"DIE 4 YOU" - Dean 

"Psycho, Pt. 2" – Russ 

"Heaven" – Bazzi 

"Every Kind of Way" – H.E.R. 

"Off My Face" – Justin Bieber 

"Before You" – Benson Boone 

"Sunflower" – Post Malone & Swae Lee 

"Pink + White" – Frank Ocean

"No Doubt" – Enhypen <3 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

update! if you enjoyed this and want more of no doubt!jake & y/n, check out my sequel series linked here for drabbles of their relationship <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the end! if you made it all the way, this is for you:

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡♡♡♡♡♡

p.s. i wanted to leave the ending kinda up to interpretation—hence the time skip to a year later..but lowkey what if i wrote short drabbles/scenes of things jake does to gain Y/N's trust again, from small to big gestures etc etc..lmk if that's something anyone would wanna see !! (update — linked above now!)

<3, addie

m.list here!

tag list (love you all <3):

(i hope it let me tag everyone!)

@thesassy-mia @ikeulove @renaishun @xylatox @puma-riki @blackberryrains @dreamiestay @junislqve @lamin143 @dreamy-carat @etherealhan @vvenusoncasual @belovedsthings @somuchdard @sumzysworld @mirouie @almondtofu006 @fancypeacepersona @vivimura @hollxe1 @missthang600 @sugarikiz @sanasour @enhamonsterghoul @etherealriki

[inmyheaddd]

loving you forever can’t be wrong - rafe cameron x reader

summary: your ex has been non stop texting you for weeks, and you tell rafe. then he leaves as you fall asleep to go ‘handle some things’ warnings: mild language, sweet!rafe (to you atleast!!), mentions of cuts and blood wc: 1.5k

another notification came from your ex, insulting you in one paragraph, then begging for you back in the next. 

as rafe sat on the couch next to you typing away at his phone, you pulled your bottom lip through your teeth anxiously as you thought on what to do about the situation, ultimately deciding on speaking up.

you cleared your throat —a nervous habit, before calling out. “rafe?”

he hummed lowly in response, signaling he was listening as his eyes stayed glued to his phone.

swallowing thickly before speaking, you said,“there’s this guy who keeps bothering me— well, it’s my ex, and i keep blocking him, but he keeps finding ways to text me.” 

you would’ve found the way his head snapped up so quickly at the mention of a guy, more so your ex, in any other situation hilarious. but nothing really felt funny right now.

“what the fuck?” his attention was fully on you now, as that angry glint in his eyes reserved for his fights began to reappear, along with that oh so familiar clench of his jaw. “bothering you?”

“yeah like, texting me and stuff and calling m—“ 

he clicked his tounge, visibly frustrated as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “nah, what? let me see this shit.” he motioned for you to come closer, and you placed your phone in his hand as you sat next to him, bringing one knee to your chest and hugging it. 

as he read through the messages, you told him the multiple stories on how many times you’ve blocked this guy, how many accounts he’s made, and how you never even respond to him. 

his tounge poked the inside of his cheek as he tried to keep his anger in check, shaking his head and scoffing in disbelief, even laughing at the guy. 

“the fuck?” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the messages, seeing just how far they went back. “he’s been texting you for weeks? how pathetic is this fucker, huh?”

you simply pursed your lips in response, shrugging as rafes eyes flickered between yours and the phone.

his eyes slightly narrowed, then came the question, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

you weren’t really too sure, if you were being honest. you truly believed the blocking would’ve put him to a stop, but the messages only kept getting more and more aggressive. 

“well, i thought that he would stop, and, well, i don’t know…” you trailed off, your voice getting quieter as your eyes flickered to the phone, then back to rafe. “he just didn’t.” 

his jaw ticked as he heard the way your voice slightly quivered, and you could’ve sworn his eyes almost softened, but who were you kidding? this was rafe cameron you were dealing with. 

“listen, next time, you tell me first fucking thing when anyone’s bothering you, alright?”

he pointed a finger at you as to further get his point across, and you let go of your knee, sighing as you did so. 

“rafe i’m fine, i promise.” your voice involuntarily pitched higher towards the end of the sentence, coming across as a whiny child more so than the grown person you were. 

“alright?”

you opened your mouth to speak, then shut it again as he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, his finger still pointed. you nodded, mumbling a small, “yeah, alright.” 

there wasn’t any room to argue. 

he mumbled under his breath as he resumed scrolling through the messages, a thick vein becoming prominent in his neck. “there won’t be a fucking next time, after i’m done with this sick fuck.”

“what?” 

he didn’t take his eyes off the phone, then he smiled, and the only way to describe that smile was wicked. “nothin’, baby.”

—

you were drifting in and out of sleep off watching shitty reality tv, cuddled up in your fuzzy blanket. you faintly felt rafe come up to you and press a kiss to your shoulder before he got up and left, causing you to stir awake. 

when you were fully awake, and realised he had left, you texted him countlessly, worrying where he was. he didn’t respond until 2 hours later with ‘handling things’ and ‘open the door baby’. 

you instantly hurried to the door, anticipating what you were going to see behind it. your breath hitched as you opened the door anyways, as rafe stood infront of you. his chest rising and falling heavily, his knuckles bloodied, and a slight bruise forming on his jaw — it was nothing you hadn’t seen before from him, but your heart still dropped every time. 

you couldn’t manage anything but a whisper as you brought a hand to your mouth, “oh my god, rafe.” 

he side stepped past you, running a hand through his hair as he kicked off his shoes. standing there, he looked like the complete opposite of you, with his disheveled clothes and sweaty skin. 

your hair was freshly blow dried after the shower you took to calm yourself down, still smelling like your shampoo, and your face was in a complete frown.

you knew what happened, but that didn’t stop you from asking anyway as you stepped towards him. “what did you do?”

“nothin,” he said, with that same smile from earlier as he brought a hand up, stroking your hair as he looked down at you. “you’re real pretty, you know that?” 

you sighed annoyedly as your lips took on a slight pout, but you leaned into his touch nonetheless. “rafe.” 

“what?” he replied in the same tone as you, you’d say he was mocking you if you didn’t know any better. 

he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he stepped even closer, your head slightly craning up. “baby, c’mon, don’t look at me like that.”

clearly you weren’t doing a very good job at hiding how worried you were. 

“what if you got hurt? or- or if he called the cops or something? you need to be careful, rafe.”

you tried not to worry, to just let him do his thing, and be all laid back, but it was so hard when he came back to you all bruised and bloody and acted like nothing happened. 

he let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor behind it— more like he was trying to make light of the situation.

“the cops can’t do shit. i know what im doing.” when you didn’t respond, only sighing as you broke eye contact and looked at the floor, he clicked his tounge, pulling you in close and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

you couldn’t wipe the pout off your face, but you moved your arms to wrap around his torso. 

“ ‘m sorry,” he mumbled into your hair as he gently swayed you side to side. “won’t do it again.“ 

you laid your head on his chest. you knew that he did this every single time, but a small part of you wanted to believe it anyways. 

“promise?” you asked.

“promise.” 

you lifted your head up from his chest to look at him, and you couldn’t help the tiny smile that formed on your lips. 

he chuckled at just how fast your mood changed, running a hand up and down your arm. “that happy, huh?” 

you didn’t answer, only looking down as you smile widened. when you looked down, you saw his other hand with its beat up knuckles, and remembered the whole reason you were worried in the first place. 

you unwrapped your arms from him, carefully picking up his hand with the both of yours, wary not to touch any of the cuts.“oh my god,” you muttered, “we need to get that fixed up.”

—

rafe sat on the closed toilet lid, as you stood in between his legs. you chewed on your bottom lip in concentration as you wiped down his cuts on his knuckles with an alchohol wipe. 

“you know, if you didn’t get into a fight, we wouldn’t have to do this right now.” you murmured, your eyes flitting between his hands and his eyes. 

he clicked his tongue, “he was askin’ for it, talking to my girl like that.” 

you said nothing, only looking at him briefly, as you moved to his other hand, which was evidently worse than the one you had just done. he took a sharp intake of breath as you gently wiped his over cuts, turning his head to the side and clenching his jaw. then he blew out a breath, almost like a whistle.

you immediately stopped your actions, placing your hands back to your side as you went to get a better look at his face. “i’m sorry, are you okay?”  

“yeah,” he breathed out as he looked at you,  and he nodded forward slightly, motioning for you to continue. “jus’ keep doing your thing baby.” 

you managed a small smile in response, resuming but attempting to be even more careful. 

after a couple beats of silence, you spoke. “you better not split these open, and have us sitting here again.” 

you tried to sound serious and warning as you put a band aid on some of the bigger cuts, but rafe only let out a breathy chuckle at your words.

“you sure you don’t like doin’ this?” 

“that’s…” you bit back a smile and avoided eye contact, but you knew rafe was somewhat grinning. “that’s not the point.” you were finally done now, and your hands fell back to your sides.  

“yeah, you’re funny, alright.” he let out another one of his laughs before he stood up, wrapping an arm lazily around your shoulders as he steered you both back to your room. 

[fresalana]

you told me your new man don't make you nut that's a damn shame.

synopsis: showing caitlin what it feels like to feel.

warnings: referring to c*nnor, sex. idk how to write warnings.

type: long blurb?

a/n: new tag. first time writing smut. i hope y'all missed me, because i missed y'all.

you knew caitlin wasn't cumming the way she deserved to. c*nnor was definitely not making that happen. she was constantly working hard, giving but never receiving. you wanted to help your friend relax; you wanted to her show her what it was like to feel. you wanted her to understand that dick wasn't the only thing that could make a woman cum. not that she was getting any real dick, anyway.

caitlin's back arched involuntarily off of the bed, a whimper leaving her lips as her hands gripped the bedding tightly – she was going to rip holes in it if she continued gripping it any harder.

"i feel like i'm gonna die, please," caitlin whispered, the desperation in her voice evident as she looked down at you, pleading with you to do something.

"you're not gonna die." you replied, rolling your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. she had squirted at least eight times on the towel beneath her. your fingers were deep inside her pussy, massaging her g-spot, forcing her to cum again and again. your thumb was rubbing her aching clit.

she knew she wasn't going to die, but you were driving her so insane that it felt like she was. "i feel like i am," caitlin whined quietly, her body shaking slightly, her head falling back against a pillow.

you leaned down, kissing her aching clit. "again, you're not gonna die, cait" with your voice muffled against her wet pussy, you licked a stripe up her clit, causing her hips to chase after your mouth. your teasing and condescending remarks were driving caitlin insane – and it wasn't the good kind of insane.

"yes i am," caitlin whimpered, shaking her head. "please, oh my god," and even caitlin could admit that she was being totallydramatic.

"all you can say is please." you scoffed, pumping your fingers into and out of her pussy at a rapid, steady pace with a wet plap! the fact that you had so much power over caitlin was irritating, she'd never admit that. she would never tell you, but there was a certain level of irritation when she was so desperate for something only you could give her.

"mmm," caitlin whined in response, her back arching and hips bucking into your hand, her head falling back against the pillow. "i - i can't, please please-"

"can't what?"

caitlin had no idea what she was even capable of saying and doing at this point, the only thing she was thinking about was what you could do to her. she had completely lost control of her body and was completely at your mercy, and it was killing her.

"i can't take it, i - i really can't," caitlin's words were cut off bay a whine, her hands still gripping the bedding on the bed.

"you want me to stop?"

there were many things caitlin wanted to say and do – but she was too busy feeling the pleasure and overstimulation that you were giving her, which made it difficult to form sentences.

"no, no, keep going, don't stop – oh please -"

"you don't even know what you're saying." you sighed, massaging her g-spot faster.

"your boyfriend ever make you cum before? hm?" your words were, once again, incredibly annoying but arousing to caitlin, who really didn't want to think about c*nnor. being with you was nothing like the relationship she's in now.

"no, god, never," caitlin responded through a whimper, looking down at you. "never like this." your words were incredibly true, and they bothered caitlin; her boyfriend was nothing like you. with you she felt so much more comfortable, free to lay back and have north care for her without having to worry about anything.

"mhm. he probably didn't even fuck you. made you do alll the work. you don't have to do that here, baby. just lay here and "feel .." as you planted a gentle kiss on her stomach, you quickly moved your thumb in tight, fast circles over her clit.

"i love you," caitlin spoke quietly, her eyes shut tightly as she trembled, her back arching as she came again that night. safe to say she'd be coming back for more, and more, and more..

[ellieswifie]

cuddling w chris while watching a movie in his bed and falling asleep on his chest and he finds it so cute and falls asleep after

cuddling with chris then falling asleep

𐙚 shortish fic!

warnings: boyfriend!chris, slight angst,

authors note: this has been in the drafts for a while sorry about that, but i was just watching ‘a walk to remember’ and thought hey how about i finally get up and start posting some fics.

˗ˋ.*✧·˚ ೃ࿔₊•

CHRIS ISN’T THE SUPER AFFECTIONATE TYPE. sure he’ll want to go out on cute dates here and there, or do cheesy couple things, but if you ask him to couple up on the coach or in his room and watch cheesy romo coms his first response will be no.

you weren’t always annoyed by this though. you knew how scary it is for him to be a relationship considering how intense youtube has been for him, but it always deep down seems to bother you.

it was a late thursday night and chris had just finished filming with his brothers when he noticed you sitting on the couch strolling through instagram with a cheesy movie on, he couldn’t help but smile a little bit. nick had editing to do so he immediately darted to his room, while matt sat on the opposite end of the couch, staring at his phone.

you looked up at chris, smiling before bringing your eyes back to the tv. "how was filming?" you asked, leaning for the blanket to your right, and covering your lower half.

chris groaned, laying his head on top of your from behind the sofa. "you know how hectic filming is." you really do. as his girlfriend you’ve only been in a few videos bc of how creepy and weird the fandom is, but it does get a little intense.

“yeah…" you muttered, shutting of your phone and making room on the couch for chris. "we could watch a movie? something less cheesy."

chris straightened, looking at you then his brother. "umm maybe we could watch it in my room? and it’s your turn to pick a movie."

your eye brows scrunched as you looked at matt. matt looked up from his phone, confused as he looked at you and chris. then it clicked in his head and he immediately stood up from the couch. "oh no! by all means i’m going to my room. sitting in a room with just the two of you is like sitting in a room with-"

"okay thank you matt!" chris said stopping him from finishing his sentence. you giggled as you also stood up from the couch. "but is okay we can just watch in my room. besides i’m already exhausted."

matthew nodded, but still dashed to his bedroom down the hall. in his head he was taking no chances.

you wrapped your blanket around your shoulders, and slipped into your slippers beside you on the couch. it was nearly twelve o’clock so you were already dressed and ready for bed. you had no plans staying the night due to your crazy early classes in the morning, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

chris moved beside wrapping a lazy arm around your shoulders as you guys made your way upstairs.

you sat on his bed, while he made his way towards his dresser, looking for some pjs to toss on. he ended up finding some plaid pajamas and a plain white t-shirt to toss on. he grabbed his laptop from the corner of the room, before settling on the bed beside you.

"so we can watch anything but the notebook. deal?" chris said opening the laptop. you groaned, pushing yourself into his long arms.

"come on you forced me to watch some karate movie a few nights ago."

chris gasped as he remembered last movie night. "karate kid is the movie of the century. you can not dis on that movie ever babe."

your eyes rolled, as your moved your hands to the keyboard. “yeah yeah, whatever." you opened netflix, scrolling through the now trending movies, to then opening the romance movies.you see the past movies your boyfriend had been a baby through, and you simply just giggle to yourself. but when your eyes land on a walk to remember you gasp while chris groans,

"again?" he whines, looking at the title.

“what do you mean again? we’ve never watched this together." you correct, looking at him. he kisses your forehead gently, looking down at you. "but you have and that doesn’t seem fair." he replies.

"alright fine." you say, clicking out the movie preview and continuing to scroll.

chris frowns looking at the change in tone. as much as he hates romance movies he hates upsetting you more. "wait no if you really want to watch it we can."

"no im not going to force you to watch something you don’t want to watch." you say, trying not to sound annoyed or sad.

“no im serious we can watch it. you just have to promise not to fall asleep." he says, smiling at your face slightly light up.

you click back in the movie, rubbing your face against into your boyfriends chest. "no promises. i’m already sleepy." you giggle, while chris rubbed his fingers through your messy hair.

and you were beyond right. twenty minutes in you were passed out. snoring slightly and holding chris like he was a teddy bear. he wasn’t even watching the movie, he was watching you.

the way you were smiling at something in your sleep and slightly drooling seemed so adorable to him. your hair was just scatted across his chest while he kept playing around with your loose strands.

his eyes glanced at his phone in his hand and frowned at how late it was. he turned off the running movie, putting the laptop on his end table, being so careful not to wake you.

you rolled over to your side, so you were completely against chris’ chest. he just couldn’t stop smiling.

he rubbed your cheeks slightly, before kissing your temple good night, drifting asleep with you in his arms moments later here with you.

[getmeoutofhell]

I’ve Been Waiting

w/: ethan landry

request: hi!!!! could you write a ethan landry x reader smut but like they’re enemies and having a very heated argument about something when he just wants to shut reader up and kisses her roughly after saying something like “god, just shut the fuck up already” or idk and they end up hate-fucking😭 really want the dom!ethan x sub!reader trope like with degrading and maybe some praising too🙏🏻😭 also tbh i really really like your writing you’re amazing

summary: sam sent ethan to your place to get her jacket she left. you hate ethan, but he doesn’t wanna hear it.

a/n: hey my love, ofc i will write this for you!! you’re so sweet.

warnings: smut, cussing, degrading, arguing & let me know if i missed something!!

“listen you fucker!!” you yell at ethan.

“who the hell you think you’re talking to y/n? you’re the one who started this whole thing in the first place.” if looks could kill, ethan would’ve been dead.

“ethan shut the fuck up. i said something to you first because you kept looking at me weird ever since you got here.” which was true, he did keep giving you looks ever since he came over. you had no idea why sam sent ethan over here to get her jacket. but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

you saw ethan roll his eyes like he always does before he spoke again. “oh my god you’re so damn dramatic. like jesus do you ever just sit and think about anything before you go off?” you would be damned if you sat here and let ethan talk to you like that.

even tho you were seated, as soon as he said that you stood back up. “what the fuck is wrong with you, huh?! you’ve never liked me in the first place so i have a right to question the way you act towards me. you’re the damn prob-“ before you could finish your sentence you were cut off with ethan smashing his lips into yours.

you were in shock, so you barley kissed back at first. ethan then pulled back.

“just shut the fuck up already.”

you didn’t have time for a reaction before ethan said something again. “i know what you want.” he said to you. even tho his kiss was nice, your anger still showed. so you put your hand on each of his shoulders to push him back away from you.

“don’t act like you didn’t want me to do that.” you only started at him in response. maybe he was right, but you’d never tell him that.

he then pulled you to your bedroom.

“you’re so pretty y/n.” he whispered to you as his fingers glazed over your delicate skin. you had no idea why you waited this late for him, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything right now.

“stop fucking taking.” you mumbled back. you softly moaned as he kissed up your neck. “you’ve been waiting for me to fuck you, huh?”

your no response gave it all away. as much as you’ll deny your love for him, it was clear as day that you had some type of feelings for ethan. his voice and nerdy personality drew you in the first time y’all spoke to each other. but your hate for him still showed.

his hands then went to the him of your pants. he started to tease and play with you.

“ethan, stop playing around and fuck me already.”

he smirked at you.

“be patient slut.” he spoke. you would be lying if you said his voice wasn’t making you more wet then you were already were.

you wanted to beg him please but stopped yourself before the words slipped out.

he looked at you with lust filled eyes as his hands pulled your panties to the side. god, he was beautiful. gorgeous eyes and lips. you wanted to reach up and kiss him, but didn’t.

his index finger started rubbing your clit in slow circles, gathering your wetness. you were slowly getting fed up and he noticed. smiling at you, ethan started going faster and adding another finger.

“is this what you wanted baby?” he asked you. you almost whined at his words, but before you could say anything you felt two of his fingers slide inside of you. your eyes closed as your head went back into the pillows below you.

“mm.” you moan slightly as his thick fingers slide in and out of you. it felt so good you couldn’t help but ask him to go faster, which he did.

“ethan, i’m gonna cum don’t stop.” you tell him. just as your about to orgasm he pulls out.

“ethan why did you stop?” you were angry, but not so much.

“i couldn’t waste a beautiful orgasm on my fingers. i need to feel you cum around me princess.” him saying that made your face feel hot, as you felt your pussy clench around nothing.

“whatever.”

not even 5 minutes later ethan is sliding inside of you. his hands on your hips as he stretches you out. you take a deep breath as he looks at you before looking between y’all’s bodies.

“fuck look at that pretty pussy taking me in.” you slightly smirk at his comment before his hand trails up to your throat, lightly squeezing. before you could say anything, his starts speeding up inside of you, causing you to moan loudly.

“fuck ethan! mm.” his face moves next to your ear as he whispers to you.

“how long have you been waiting for be to do this? you’re so wet.” he grunts in your ear before going deeper inside you. he felt so fucking good inside of you, skin on skin could be heard all around the room. you couldn’t help but moan his name once more as another orgasm started approaching.

you and ethan were both moaning and close to cumming. “can i…cum inside you baby? please.” he almost whines out at you.

“yes, please ethan.” not even a second later you feel him groan one last time as his hot cum fills you up. you clench around him one last time before you cum over him. his fingers rub your clit, helping you with a better orgasm.

your legs are shaking, and your struggling to catch your breath. ethan looks at you again, but you didn’t notice since your eyes were closed. his weren’t filled with lust, but with something else, love.

heyy!! i hoped you enjoyed!

masterlist!

[nerdyweebfreak]

Hellooo just wanna say your writing is so awesome im actually obsessed omg

Can i ask are you open for requests im 21 years old and id love it if you could write first time with the hashiras with an unexperienced reader when you get a chance ofc!

note: hye anon!! thank you so much for your lovely request, glad you like my writing!!!! so honoured ^u^ let's dive right into it!

SORRY FOR THE DELAY OMG i figured i'd do semi-detailed things so that this could still be a drabble, but i will do FULL fics for each of them if requested :3

— HASHIRAS x unexperienced!reader —

tw: fluff, foreplay, a bit of dubcon, praising

starring: giyuu, obanai, sanemi, gyomei, kyojuro, tengen

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 ➤ it was no secret that giyuu was just as unexperienced as you were. his cold, reserved attitude has lead him to bottle up his own emotions in forever and, yes, including his desires too.

giyuu craved that sweet passion only you could give him.

He was the type of person to never lash out or fully express what he was feeling. But he sure did have a sweet spot for someone. And that someone was you. I'm not saying that he completely changed his behavior in your presence, no. But the way you looked at him definitely awakened something in him, something he knew you had never experienced.

One day, while walking back from a nighttime training, he decided to shoot his shot.

"Y/n." He breathed, authoritarily.

"Yes, Giyuu?" You turned your head towards him, unaware.

"You must be tired. My house is closer than yours."

You didn't know if this was an invite or a simple sentence. You did know he struggled with communication, so you just took it as a statement.

"Oh, yeah.. don't worry, i'll walk my way home alone. If you want to take the turn for your house, go f-"

Giyuu's gaze travelled across your haori. your curves. your legs. His stance, stoic and unbothered, in front of you.

"w-what's wrong, Giyuu?"

He placed a hand behind your hear, and leaned in.

"Just spend some more time with me. Y/n."

The sudden request made you jolt. You couldn't say you weren't into him. and you couldn't say you werent waiting for this. You quickly nodded, blushing from your cheeks to the tip of your ears. Giyuu leaned into a kiss, pushing his body against yours.

"God, i needed this." escaped his lips, while his lips met yours. His body wouldn't stop pressing against yours, in a desperate attempt to be closer to you. You stepped back and your back met the door to his place. He quickly pushed the door open and held your waist to guiide you through the livingroom, just for your back to meet his couch.

Giyu suddenly stops. He looks at you with deep blue eyes.

"What's wrong?" you wondered, looking up at him, thinking you did something wrong, or he changed his mind.

"You've never done this, have you?" He wonders, quietly. You blush. Was it so obvious? what gave it away? you shook your head. "But i want it." you added.

Giyuu's hand cupped the back of your head and slowly crawled on top of you, undoing his haori. "I'm sorry. --" he paused. "Sorry for acting that way." His knee made its way between your legs, and gently pressed on your crotch. His hands roamed over your body.

"Don't be... i liked it.." You chuckle quietly. He smiles, for all response. He kisses your neck and undoes your haori. "Smells.. good." He comments, before kissing down your bare chest.

𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ➤ obanai was aware that this was your first time, and he needed to make it as special as he could. he'd look into your eyes deeply. gently undressing you, quietly, without making a sound. his cold hands slithering under your clothes, swiftly, they'd give you chills.

"hey, baby i'm here. look at me.."

he blushed, although he loved eye contact. your gaze would make him flustered, despite being with you for a long time.

"don't worry. please. it'll be okay. just tell me if you ever want to stop, okay?"

he'd whisper, reassuring you.

obanai loved long, intense foreplay until you both cannot take it anymore. and that's exactly what happened your first night with him. after kissing for hours, gently teasing each other, his slender fingers slid into you so easily. one. two. three. "i'm gonna put it in. you ready? i want to hear you."

Obanai was the kind of man that desperately needs to hear your voice. He wanted all of it, he wanted to experience your pleasure on his skin, too. He needed to know you were enjoying it as much as he was.

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ➤ sanemi tried to be the perfect boyfriend. he really did. although, he couldn't take the idea that you could get tired of him. he wanted you, so bad, he wanted to own you, mark you. but no. you were still pure. untouched. the thought turned him on, a lot. he wanted to be the first. jealousy striked through his veins everytime he thought that you could get tired of him and date someone else.

so, one night he decided to show up at your house, knocking so hard. once inside, he grabbed your wrists in his fists.

"i want you. now. do you want to have sex?"

his voice, shaky and possessive, made you tremble.

"y-yeah but.."

"but what? fuck, we've been together for a while.. please."

"i g-guess. yes.."

"good little one. i fucking love you."

without letting go of your wrists, sanemi pushed your back against the wall. "let me show you what ive been craving. you need to learn.."

you didn't want him to stop. he was too good at this. and you knew you needed him too. you just hoped he'd take the lead, as you did not know where to start.

sanemi's hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into a deep kiss. your eyes rolled. he was so warm, as if his blood was boiling. his hands would wander under your clothes now. removing your haori. letting it fall carefreely on the floor. "god you're so fucking pretty, doll."

𝐆𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐢 ➤ Gyomei really knew he had to be careful with you because of his size. After preparing a hot romantic bath for you, he set you on his big futon, big enough to fit him, and probably twice your size. "Are you sure?" he hummed, his voice low and filled with doubts. He kneeled in front of you, towering over you.

"i'm sure, love."

He wanted to make sure your first time was the best thing he could ever give you. Gyomei lowered himself onto you, and wrapped his arm around your waist. one arm was enough to pull your body towards him, and you entangled your legs around his waist. Gyomei's lips met yours, and your fingers ran in his short, bristly hair. The pearls around his neck grazed against your skin. You aligned your hips to his.

"I love you... i love you.. you're so gorgeous.." he said, in adoration, kissing your skin. Beady tears rolling down his cheeks. his hands firmly keeping your hips still now.

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ➤ After a demon fight, Kyojuro offered you to see the dawn with him. You both sat on the grass, watching the moon slowly turn into the sun.

"Hey, y/n", he whispered.

"yeah?"

"You look pretty tonight. I mean today. I mean."

You both burst into a laugh. Kyojuro was the sunniest person you've ever met, with a burning fire inside of him. But now, he looked softer. as if..

"hey.. have you ever kissed anyone?" the question unexpectedly fell from your lips. Kyojuro looked at you for a few moments, before shaking his head.

"You could be my first. If..." Kyojuro's head turned to you, and he stared at the way your eyes were glowing in the moonshine. His kiss felt like a summer night.

His skin was hot to the touch, and his hair messily rested on his shoulder. As the dawn slowly creeped up the hill, you and Kyojuro experienced a truly whole new world.

𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 ➤ Tengen had just made you his 4th wife. You had no idea how it was to be married, let alone to a man like this. He was charming. His wifes, always cheerful and comfortable with each other. You woke up in his bed. His wives were asleep still, and you two were the only ones awake at the time.

"Tengen.."

"Yes, love?" He replied, with a soft voice.

"Since i'm your wife now.... does it mean.. we need to have kids?" You wondered.

"Of course not, silly. " he chuckled. "Not if you don't want to."

"I think... I don't want kids but... you know we've been together for a while and.."

"I know where you're going. You want to make love?" His voice was so soft and loving. His tone was reassuring. You didn't expect him to get it so fast. Tengen turns towards you, and his messy white hair flow on the pillow.

"Come here. let me show you baby." He pulls you by your waist, his tall body shielding you from the sunlight coming in from the window. You instinctively kiss him. It was a deep, passionate kiss. You loved him, and wanted to show him how bad you did.

"my pretty angel..." He mumbled, as his big hand started to roam across your soft sunkissed skin, eventually revealing your body and lifting your shirt, which turned into clawing your back, holding your hair, and lustful eye contact. You were at a loss of words. you didn't know this man could be as soft as a feather yet have the same strenght of a storm. Yet, he wouldn't hurt you once. He was careful. Delicate. Hungry.

note: i know this wasn't super long but i hope you enjoted :3

NOT PROOFREAD! -3-

[jajasmiinee]

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

bf!chris sturniolo

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

warnings : fluff!

y/n

chris

matt

nick

english is not my first language so i'm terribly sorry if there's any english error

enjoyy!

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

ꔫ bf!chris - who would buy you anything you lay your eyes on

✧ you're at the mall with chris, your boyfriend. the main reason you're there is to buy a new shoes for you. and you already bought one. you and chris passes a boutique store when you saw a pretty pink dress with a flower design. well, you just took a glance and continue to walk. you'd be lying if i say i don't want 'em, but you felt bad to spend more money. your thoughts were cut off when suddenly chris took your hand and walk through the boutique store. "you want this dont ya? then let's buy it" without waiting for your response, he already paid and give it to you with the brightest smile

---- ☆

ꔫ bf!chris - who would tie your shoes everytime

✧ you and chris are just taking a night walk. you finally noticed that your shoe lace untied "oof-" you knelt down to tie it back when chris stopped you "no! let me do it, baby!" he quickly tie your shoe lace and pat your head

---- ☆

ꔫ bf!chris - knows what you need

✧ "urgh- i just got my period this morning.." you walk towards to chris that's sitting at the table, taking a seat beside him "can you help me buy the-" within seconds, he put a bunch of pad on the table "no.. i want strawber-" you couldn't finish your sentence when chris push the pads away and he gave you a nice cut strawberries onto the tables "you know i likes it with bob-" "right behind you sweetheart" chris replied while still scrolling through tiktok "hm?!" your eyes widen when you saw boba milk tea without.. boba..? "where are the pear-" "oop sorry, that's nick's. here's yours" he gave you a milk tea WITH boba "hmp!" you slammed the tables and so do chris "oh you think you're funny? oh so you're suddenly copying me now? hmp hmp hmp!" you tried to hit chris but he managed to avoid it "hihii" you leans in as a joke, well, chris kisses you back.

(inspired by celine and david tt !!)

---- ☆

ꔫ bf!chris - who wouldn't go to sleep angry at you

✧ you and chris are tugged into bed, facing the opposite side of each other. y'all got a quite massive argument earlier which is resulting this type of situation. you could feel the loo light movements beside you, chris. seems like he's uncomfortable. "y/n my lovee??" as you were about to fell asleep, he called out you name "hm?" you answer in irritation "love look at me.." chris pull your waist closer "whatt..?" you furrowed your eyebrows "i'm sorry about earlier.. i was being an asshole. please don't be mad at me" chris snuggle into the crook of your neck "hm hm yea.." you answer, half asleep "ooow lovee!! do you even paying attention??" chris pouts "i heard you loud and clear chris, yess i forgive you sweetheart" you chuckles softly, your eyes flickering in sleepiness "yayy okayy" chris laugh happily and cuddle with you. falling asleep in each others arm

(based on when chris said that he couldn't sleep when he's mad to his brotherssssss)

---- ☆

ꔫ bf!chris - who's never embarrassed to match with y/n in public

✧ you and your boyfriend brothers decided to eat out together, to a fast food or anywhere that's delicious. matt and nick was already in the car waiting for you and chris to jump in "can you be faster?!" matt shouted "we're done!" you smiles brightly "go- oh!" matt eyes widen as he looks at you and chris. wearing matching spiderman hoodie "seriously?" nick laugh "why nottt?" you whined "fine get in the car i don't give a fuck about it anymore" matt rolls his eyes "you're just jealous mate"

---- ☆

ꔫ bf!chris - who wouldn't let you do any work when you're sick

✧ you have a quite high fever today. you snuggles in your bed all day, letting chris take care of you "ngh" you whine as you tried to get up "woah woah woaaahhh! where are you goiiinggg?" chris hold your shoulder and squeezing it lightly "i need to tidy up my panties chris. it's been a long time since i tidy it up" you give chris a weak smile "no worries, i can do it!" chris pat his chest, prouuuddd "chris. it's my PANTIES. you? tidy? my panties?" you raised an eyebrow "i've seen them so many times doll. i even fucked you in them" chris replied with a wicked smile "oop. fine then" you lay back down "well i'm not wrong though"

---- ☆

ꔫ bf!chris - who would never let you pay when you're with him. even if you insist

✧ you went to a coffee shop with chris. he wanted to follow even though he doesn't drink coffee that much. you're at the counter, taking your drink. a matcha latte. chris hate matcha. and matcha with coffee?? oh man.. "how much is it?" you ask the cashier "that would be $7.80" the cashier replied "oka-" you were about to pick up your card when you suddenly hear ‘bing!’ "huh?" you lift your head up a bit to look at the small screen. seeing ‘payment success!’ you look at chris. forming wicked smile on his face

---- ☆

ꔫ bf!chris - who would share with you even though he hate sharing

✧ you stay at the sturniolo's house for a quite fee days due to some renovation to your house. you lay on chris's bed while him and his brothers are streaming. you felt thirsty. you took a glance at chris, seeing he's drinking pepsi. you approaches him and asked "chrissss, can i take a sip please?" you pouts "yea of course, y'know what. take it all i can take a new one" Chris replied "really??" you gasp "mhm!" chris nodded with a reassuring smile "thank youu" you jump excitedly while taking a sip

---- ☆

ꔫ bf!chris - who would satisfy all your cravings

✧ you were sitting in the living room with chris. you stomach grumbles, you came across some wingstop mukbang. "oof.." you mumble as you watch the person eat. "babyy" you called chris out "ye- oh" chris was caught of guard when you gave him the cutest eyes "what do you want sweetheart?" chris ask with a sly smirk "hihiii can i have wingstop pleaseee?" you whine "of course" chris immediately order some

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

so short man i thought it was longerrrr

[aussiexlovexaffair]

-ˋˏ ༻❁Classmate!Luke❁༺ ˎˊ-

- becoming friends with Luke wasn't a walk in the park

- in high school, he was quiet

- the type to shove his head in a locker to avoid being seen

- he's got a few good friends, but getting more isn't exactly on his to-do list

- he'd much rather stick to playing his guitar at home, playing video games with Jack and Ben, and hoping to god he wouldn't be put in the spotlight for any particular reason in school

- but of course that was unavoidable

- because he had a project due for his English class and he was expected to present it to the entire class

- and he had a partner he didn't know— a girl named y/n

- of course it had to be a girl

- they weren't his forte at all

- as the band mentioned in a past interview, girls weren't that into any of them back in Australia

-. but you were a foreigner

- and the blond punk with dramatic fringe and baby blue eyes that darted down to the ground, seemingly unsure of every word he said, coupled with his well-taught manners wasn't someone you overlooked so quickly

- besides, a punk boyfriend could be cute.

- so as soon as the assignment was given and the students were dismissed by the bell, you couldn't stop yourself from following him to his locker and approaching him

- "you're Luke, right?"

- he seemed almost startled that you knew his name, hanging onto the open door of his locker with an unsure look in his eyes.

- he nods softly, looking back to the interior of the locker and rearranging some of his books to occupy himself

- "we're partners for the English presentation. i'm y/n." you offer a sympathetic smile, no stranger to the awkward feeling of meeting someone for the first time out of the blue

- "y/n." he repeated, looking away from the messy pile of books in his locker for a moment. the way he said the name was experimental. it was unfamiliar on his tongue, but he didn't mind it. he batted his eyes at you curiously, face void of any recognizable emotion.

- "'we're gunna have to work on the project some time soon.. when are you free?" you didn't want to waste his time. you'd never seen him late to a class once and you also didn't want to make him feel any more awkward than he already did.

- a soft hue of pink had risen on his cheeks and the back of his neck throughout the entire conversation

- "anytime, really.. i don't have much goin' on." he admits in a soft voice, eyes flickering back to the locker

- "how about tonight then? you could come over to mine?"

- you watched as a flurry of emotions raced through his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck

- what was he thinking?

- "oh my god, a girl just invited me over to her house..." is what was racing through his mind

- he had never really hung out with a girl one-on-one, but he had seen his older brothers do it occasionally

- but that was a different kind of hang out

- but would it be awkward for a girl to be the one to initiate the hang out?

- no, because it wasn't that kind of hangout

- it was just for school work

- but his brothers always said the guy was supposed to invite the girl over— because that's what they did. that's what they were supposed to do.

- his mind was whirling with thoughts which were politely interrupted by your gentle voice trying to coax some sort of response from him

- until then, he'd just been staring thoughtlessly at the wall

- it was pure radio static up there

- "we can always do another night, it's not due for another—" "tonight."

- his hasty response after such a long delay startled you, but you could feel a little grin forming on your lips as he shot his eyes up to yours.

- "and we could.. ehm.. do it at my place, too... ifthatsokay." he rushes out the end of his sentence, hesitant to make you feel like he was being pushy

- something about the way he was unsure about every word he said made your cheeks grow hot.

- he was even cuter in person.

- "whatever makes you most comfortable." you respond cooly, taking out a post-it note and jotting something down in sharpie.

- "my MySpace, if you wanna let me know where exactly your house is."

- he looks down at the paper, a slight smile on his face as he nods.

- "yeah, yeah sure thing. uhm... see you tonight, then."

- as you gave him a friendly smile and brushed past him to get to your next class, he caught the scent of your perfume lingering in the air and it made him shiver

- maybe luke didn't hate presentations after all

[b0ther]

LOSER LOSER LOSER !!! YUUTA

it's your typical story: the bully and the loser. you don't mind, though. not when yuuta's taking you in this good.

pairing : okkotsu yuuta x reader (masculine pronouns. amab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : headcanon & short drabble(s) hehe tags : reader is your typical BULLY and yuuta is your typical LOSER who gets BULLIED, depiction of violence (please be mindful of the tags), high school AU, yuuta gets off from the bullying, reader has a giant cock as per usual, yuuta displays some obsessive behaviours, usage of the words "slut" and "baby" and "whore" and "idiot", dry humping, blowjobs, spitting, anal sex, slight dub-con word count : 1,962

author's note : all my kings who believe in sub yuuta supremacy. . . this one's for you. also i wrote this half asleep. sawry. will def write more for this prompt in the future. love u ol 🫶

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

♡ you have never really paid much attention to LOSER!YUUTA, of course. why would you? you have shinier friends and your reputation allows you to trample on people in his class. you don't need him—you don't need to know him.

♡ oh, but LOSER!YUUTA? he pays attention to you. he pays attention hard. he watches your strides, heading to the cafeteria or the bathroom or out the school gates. he breathes in the air every time he gets the chance to indulge himself from being close to you. his cock throbs every time you just so much as elbow his shoulder in malice. 

♡ LOSER!YUUTA is such a nice boy—he crosses his heart and swears to himself that he doesn't enjoy seeing his peers getting their heads slammed onto the chalk walls along the hallway by your sturdy hands. in fact, he hates it so much that he would rather you kick his stomach and press your cigarette butts on his cheeks. the sacrifices he would make for his classmates are immeasurable.

♡ and soon enough, one of your friends would start pointing out how LOSER!YUUTA peeks at your direction constantly behind his book. his small and slender frame as if nonexistence between whatever the hell he is reading. you shake your head, laughing. "you can't name anyone in this school who doesn't want a taste of my dick," you wave your friends off, "especially not some fuckin' loser like him."

♡ you forgot about LOSER!YUUTA for a hot moment—ransacking school bags to find cash you can claim on your own; stepping on the feet of anyone who dares to tell you no. when everyone looks away, you find one pair of eyes occasionally stealing glances your way.

♡ curiosity, as curiosity does, eventually finds itself making its way to you. you love the attention, and when there is the opportunity to fuck something, what proper response are there but to chase it?

“Arent’cha curious of me?” You ask, backing him up against the wall.

Yuuta shakes as you tower over him, eyes darting back and forth between your face and the door that you won’t allow him to leave. 

“Hey,” annoyed, you grab his jaw after taking a deep breath of the smoke between your fingers, forcing him to look at you. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“Sorry,” he stutters out, almost as quick as the moment your sentence ended.

You scoff—Yuuta feels your hot breath on his skin. It smells like cigarettes, but mostly, it’s his first whiff of you. His eyes turn wide at his body’s awful timing of letting his cock go rock hard.

He prays that you won’t notice his cock practically peeking from underneath his pants. You never noticed his hard on, after all. But that day, in the cramped janitor’s closet, you are given no choice but to notice. Especially with his little grunt, clearing his throat like he’s slick.

“See,” you let go of his face, shoving his head against the wall. “I got you this hard, and what did I do?” You rub your leg against his crotch, intrigued at how his face crinkle in sudden pleasure. You killed the cigarette on the wall next to his head—Yuuta can hear it die, and he can almost feel the heat too.

He whimpers.

“Oh, quit being so whiny.” Your hand reached over to palm his ass, still rubbing your knee up and down his clothed length. “You like me this much? Show me.”

♡ LOSER!YUUTA is not proud that he came all over his uniform pants just by rutting his cock on your thigh. well, maybe he is. no matter how he feels about it, he manages to pique your interest and make you come back to him for more.

♡ you don’t pretend to hide it. you’d pull him over in the middle of a crowded hallway, arms snaking around his waist where the whole school can see. words begin to spread, but you don’t care. neither does LOSER!YUUTA.

♡ LOSER!YUUTA would have to work for your cock, though. you aren’t letting him get to you that easy. besides, it’s fun getting him to jack himself off under the showers as you watch him squirm like the pathetic slut that he is.

♡ you’d take him right then and there—the more you do this, the harder it becomes to resist him—but you control yourself. there’s gotta be someone on their right mind in this exchange, and with all his good grades and straight a’s, LOSER!YUUTA is definitely too dumb when it comes to you.

♡ it’s a surprise when LOSER!YUUTA lets you into his room for the first time. it was just how you expected his room to be—simple, plain, boring.

♡ “my parents aren’t home,” he says as he fiddles with the hem of his uniform, not daring to look you in the eyes.

♡ LOSER!YUUTA, eyes wide when you instructed him to suck you off. you snicker at his stupid expression, and nodded at your crotch as you sat on his bed. “go on, i’m not gonna cum on my own.”

♡ but he is so eager to please you. so so excited. he sits between your thighs and marvels at the size of your cock compared to his face. you do not disappoint.

♡ “aren’t you gonna suck it?”

♡ LOSER!YUUTA is so good at sucking you off. you should have made him give you a blowjob earlier. he is gentle at first, kissing the tips of your cock, slobbering up the rest of your length for his taking, before eventually using his hot throat to welcome you in.

You don’t even know where the fuck he learnt how to give a blowjob this good—who the fuck wants to get blown by a loser like Okkotsu Yuuta?

For some ungodly reason, he lets you in his room. And for some ungodly, too, he lets you place a pillow between your head and the wall as he sucks you off like he spends his days practising his jaws to accommodate your length.

He’s probably expected you to come on him like this, huh?

Both of his hands are squeezing the base of your cock, continuously pumping, and his pretty lips wrap themselves nicely around your tip. You watch the top of his head between your spreaded thighs as he drags the top of your dick in and out of his wet mouth.

“Yuuta,” you groan, gathering the strands of his hair with your fingers. All that you can hear is the sound of his chokes—at your call, he looks up at you under his long lashes, his cheeks hollow as he continues his slobbering mess. “Fuck,” you breathe, tugging on his hair tighter, “aren’t you pretty like this?”

His already flushed cheeks became redder—there is a sense of pride blossoming in his chest. You complimented him. Yuuta’s vision blurs as he becomes more dizzy—he just wants to make you feel good. 

♡ you wouldn’t have guessed that if LOSER!YUUTA was to have a hobby, it was to suck you off.

♡ LOSER!YUUTA would never initiate anything first, of course. but a slut like him just needs a push—he’d beat your meat anywhere you want. the school rooftop, the karaoke room you took him to once. under a restaurant desk or in a hidden library corner.

♡ the vulnerability of it all turns LOSER!YUUTA on. and his neediness, his little whimpers and cries—he turns you on.

♡ you wonder how you never notice LOSER!YUUTA in his gym clothes: shorts and a shirt that is a little too tight for his body frame. he is full of sweat whenever he has to run the mile or throw some sort of lame spike across the volley net.

♡ eventually you find yourself fucking him.

♡ tight, tight hole. tightest hole you ever seen. you had to breathe to stop yourself from cumming when you first tried out his hole.

♡ you fuck him in the shower room, you fuck him in the gym storage, you fuck him on the teacher’s table on an empty classroom. he’s always bent over somewhere: ass up for you to take, and dick hard for you to jack off and leave him on the edge.

“Don’t— Don’t stop—” he begs, prettily. You’ve grown a soft spot for him by now. His moans titter like melodies, echoing in the empty classroom as you dick him down—you press both his hands on his back as you drill yourself harder into him.

“Giving me instructions now?” You grunt, and Yuuta whines. A chuckle escapes your lips as you raise your hand to give his full ass a hard slap. "Shut up and just take my cock."

♡ LOSER!YUUTA just wants you to kiss him.

♡ he reaches his arms around your neck whenever you press his knees over his chest, pulling you in.

♡ “no, no,” you chuckle, grabbing his jaw. “you don’t get to fucking kiss me, alright? i don’t kiss whores like you.”

♡ and LOSER!YUUTA knows how weak you are to his little whines. he claws at your chest, caresses the side of your face—”please,” he sobs, “kiss me, kiss— nghh—” your cock gets him so drunk that he can’t even finish a coherent sentence—he can’t even beg.

♡ his eyes roll back, nails digging into the blades of your shoulders. “i can’t, i can’t—”

“You can’t what?”

His little hole feels like it’s scraping your dick every time you pull out and slam yourself back in. He’s so wet, so messy, so tight, just for your cock and even after fucking into his asshole this many times, you wonder how he can still be so fucking tight.

“You’re t’big,” Yuuta closes his eyes, hand blindly grasping for your neck, desperate for something to hold on to. “I can’t—”

“Aww,” you coo, faking empathy as you grab his face. “Sure you can take it. You’ve done this a million times.”

Yuuta lets one of his eyelids fly open, and he is greeted with your lips, lazily grinning down at him.

“It hurts,” he cries softly, knees becoming sore as you continue to bend it over his torso. His dick aches at your lack of attention to it, oozing precum all over his uniform and on the floor where you were fucking him. “Fu– fuck. Please, please.”

You watch the way his hair sticks against his forehead with his sweat, cheeks billowed and chest heaving. He just doesn’t know the things he does to you.

“Little slut can’t take it?” You manage to keep your voice steady, as if you aren’t close to fucking his brains out. “Want me to kiss it better?”

As if he has his ears perking at your preposition, he shoots both his eyes open. Excitement flashes through his pupils, and between his grunts, he manages to ask, “Can… can you—?”

You laugh, “Of course not, idiot.” You let go of his face and stand on your knees, ready to pummelled into him even harder. “Here,” you lean down at his sweaty face, kissing the skin under his eye before spitting on his face, “You can have a taste.”

Yuuta squirms. You use the back of your hand to wipe the spit off your mouth and laugh again when you see Yuuta with his mouth open, tongue hanging out.

“God. Want me to spit in your mouth this time?”

Yuuta nods, wrapping his leg around your body as best as he can, and weakly tugs for you to lean down. Every taste of you is divine—he wants everything you offer him, and he wants so much more.

“You’re so hot, baby,” You rub his face. “Beg for my spit. Use your words. You can do it, right?”

[csl0ml]

So needy… ?pt1?

This is my first time EVER writing a fanfic so it’s my first time writing smut so be nice please 😔

I actually hate this so much 😭

It’s also REALLY long so 😭

Chris x fem reader!!

Chris and reader are dating

Warnings‼️‼️

smut, smut, smut, and smut, the tiniest (like one sentence) of fluff so 🤷‍♀️

pink: you

orange: Chris

Not proofread so 🤷‍♀️

Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Chris omg will you please leave me alone?”

lately Chris has been needy and whiny for no fucking reason.

It’s like he’s going through heat

“Come on ma please, I need you so bad”

I groan in frustration “I could care less go jerk off or something”

Chris frowns “my hand doesn’t feel as good as yours”

I’m still working on something for my job so even if I wanted to help Chris out I literally couldn’t

“Chris I’m working please just go cum and let me be”

“Fine.” Chris is obviously pissed and walks into our shared bedroom and slams the door

“You’re acting like a stubborn teenager!!” I shout at him

“Fuck you.” He responds

…

A couple hours later I’m on the couch watching a movie.

I pull out my phone and see I have a notification.

Chris sent me snap. Weird since we’re in the same house.

When I click on it my mouth drops.

It’s a picture of his dick dripping pre-cum, it’s veiny, it’s not too long, not too thick, it’s perfect.

I immediately turn off the tv and walk to our bedroom. When I get to the door I hear quiet whimper, whines, and cries.

“P-please y/n I need you”

wow I never thought of Chris as the type to beg and whine.

When I open the door I see Chris with his pants around his ankles, dick sticking out of his boxers and his eyes swollen and red from crying.

“Awe baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” I ask him as I walk over and sit on the bed. I knew what was wrong. I knew why he was upset. He was so horny and hard it hurt him. But we have a deal. We can’t touch ourselves without permission.

“ I-I’m so hard it hurts. please ma, touch me.”

“Hmm I don’t know. You were distracting me from my work I don’t know if you deserve it.”

His eyes go wide and he moves closer to me. “No! Please I’ll be a good boy I promise! I need you so bad I might die if I don’t cum soon”

I then get an idea.

“Well…last time I checked good boys don’t whine and distract mommy when she’s trying to work and busy.”

Chris looks like he’s about to break down again.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you be a really good boy I’ll let you cum.”

“Yes! Please I’ll do anything to cum I just need it so badly.” Chris almost cried tears of happiness.

“oh but you don’t get to come right now… good boys let mommy cum first. That’s how it’s always been”

Chris burst into tears when I said that.

I grab his face and wipe his tears.

I say in a baby/mocking voice “oh baby I know you’re horny and so hard but you would’ve been able to cum earlier if you weren’t so needy.”

“I-I’m s-sorry. I just needed you so bad I couldn’t wait”

“I understand. But now you’re gonna have to wait. Right now mommy’s gonna cum first okay?”

All I get in response is a nod from Chris.

I push Chris against the head board of the bed and tell him not to touch himself until I tell him to.

I get up and strip. I start with my shirt. Then my pants. But I leave my panties and bra on.

Chris whimpers at the sight of me.

I then walk over to the night stand and open the bottom drawer. I pull out a dildo and a vibrator.

Chris knew I had toys. But because of our deal I didn’t use them unless he told me I could.

I walk back to the bed and get myself situated.

I pull my panties to the side which have a huge wet spot due to how wet I was. I was practically dripping everywhere just from watching Chris whine.

I slowly rub my clit. I let out a quiet moan. I look at Chris and see that he’s just sitting there in awe. It’s taking him every single muscle in his body not to start jerking off.

Once I’m done rubbing my clit I slowly slide the dildo into my hole. My head shoots back in pleasure and I let out such a load moan I wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors heard.

I look at Chris and then his dick. His dick is twitching and dripping pre-cum.

I start sliding the dildo in and out of my dripping pussy. I then grab the vibrator I got from the night stand and put it on my clit.

My back arches from the amount of pleasure and I let out a moan.

“Oh my god Chris” I moan.

I look at Chris and he mumbles something.

“What’d you say baby?”

“I said you look so beautiful ma.”

I thank him by getting up and giving him a kiss.

The kiss then turns into a very sloppy messy make out session.

I pull away from Chris and he frowns

“Why’d you stop”

“Because I need to cum first and then you can get everything you want”

I lay back down and slide the dildo in and out again. I place the vibrator on my clit again. I’m moaning so loud my throat hurts.

I can feel the knot in my stomach get closer.

“I-I’m close Chris omg”

I then find my self having an orgasm.

I start riding out my high on the dildo. Once I’m calm again I look at Chris.

He’s crying again.

I take the dildo out, turn off the vibrator and sit infront of him. “What’s wrong baby?” not actually knowing what’s wrong.

“I- I just don’t know how I ended up with someone so gorgeous. and my cock is throbbing and it hurts”

I laugh at his statement

“Don’t worry baby. You were such a good boy and didn’t touch yourself so now you get to cum”

I get down face to face with his dick and start licking his tip.

Chris’s head shoots back in pleasure. He’s a moaning mess.

“Omg yes y/n don’t stop”

“You’re mouth feels amazing”

“It feels so good baby”

All this stuff he’s saying while he’s moaning

I take his whole dick. It’s hitting the back of my throat and I’m trying my hardest not to gag.

“I’m close”

I just hum in response.

The vibration from my hum must have been to much because next thing I know Chris was practically screaming my name.

He’s coming down my throat as he grips my hair. I sallow his cum and look up at him.

There’s tears in eyes from the pleasure.

“You did so good baby. You were such a good boy.”

“Thank you mamas”

“Want me to fuck you now?”

Part two?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[starglitterz]

♡ AMERICANO.

❝ baby, take a chance on me! give me one sign and you will see. // crushing on the local barista ❞

✧ feat : xiao x gn!reader

✧ a/n : FIRST POST OF THE YEAR!! yk it had to be my beloved xiao <3 here's to a fourth year with my baby hehe

✧ note : this is a very late entry to ying's cafe week for the prompt americano !

please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)

“uh, hi. could i please get a…” you flash what you’re certain is the most awkward grin of your life at the poor barista, who’s currently running the cashier as well. you swear you’re never the type to hold up a queue, pondering for ages over what to drink to get – in fact, you always get the exact same drink. it’s just that the way the barista’s pretty amber eyes almost seem to gleam in the late afternoon sun has you stumbling over your words, barely able to form coherent sentences; it’s so embarrassing you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole, you're lucky there's no one else in the line behind you.

“your usual?” he raises an eyebrow, a few strands of jade hair tumbling out of his loose bun to frame his face, and holy archons this man is such a masterpiece he belongs in a museum. you gape at him for a few seconds, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish before you realise how stupid you must look and you scramble for a reply, “how do you know?!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a smile, “you order the same drink every time.” you’re fumbling for a retort when he continues, “and you come here three times a day.” now you’re ninety-nine percent certain your face is on fire.

“that’s true…” you mutter sheepishly before making a valiant attempt to defend yourself, “but maybe i just really like coffee!” “i think you drink too much coffee,” he chuckles softly as he writes your name on the cup. you’re freaking out over the fact that what has to be the world’s cutest barista is actually aware of your existence, he recognises you instead of seeing you as just another customer from the endless throngs of students that flock to the campus coffee shop daily. then you gasp, “wait. how do you know my name?!” he lifts an eyebrow once more, “i just told you that you order coffee here three times a day. you say your name every time.” great. now he definitely thinks you’re an idiot. it’s not your fault that all your braincells seem to fly out of your head every time you see him!

“oh.” you laugh weakly as you pull your wallet out of your bag, “that makes sense.” mentally, you’re slamming your head against the wall, cursing yourself for being so head-over-heels that you can’t even carry a normal conversation with the barista. as he types your total, he suddenly murmurs so softly that you have to struggle to catch it, “it’s a pretty name, though.” “o-oh, you think so?” the compliment makes your brain short-circuit, but thankfully you manage a proper response, “i like your name too… xiao.” saying his name out loud almost makes you spontaneously burst into flames, which honestly would be pretty inconvenient for the rest of the customers in the coffee shop. not to mention you doubt it would endear you to xiao if you exploded in the middle of his workplace.

you aren't sure if it's just your imagination, but you think that xiao's ears look a little red as he taps on the screen in front of him. then he clears his throat, “you know what, today's drink is on the house.” “what?! really?!” your eyes light up and xiao meets your gaze for a split second before looking away, the faintest pink tinge dusting his cheeks as he starts making your drink, “yeah.” your heart's beating at a million miles per hour from just this small interaction, but you swallow your nerves and give yourself a pep talk as you wait to receive your drink. you never know unless you try, right?

and as xiao turns to give your drink, you blurt, “icouldtakeyououtonadate!” he blinks slowly, cat-like, and furrows his brow in confusion, “sorry, what did you say?” doing your best not to melt into a puddle on the ground, you mumble, “to make up for the free coffee, i could take you out to lunch or something.” there’s a pause, and you quickly continue, “only if you want to, of course!” you're cursing yourself for even daring to be so bold, there's no way he'd want to go out with a caffeine addict like you- “i'd like that.” his reply is so unexpected you look at him incredulously, “what?” “i said, i’d like to go for lunch with you,” now xiao's face is bright red, and he's gripping your coffee cup so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

at this point, you think that you could jump over the moon. “oh! that's great!” you beam, and xiao thinks that your smile is like the sun, “maybe sunday?” “sure,” he smiles, and it's the most adorable thing you've ever seen, “it's a date.” he turns away after saying that to hide his blush, and with the biggest, cheesiest grin on your face you reply, “yeah, it's a date.”

(and later when you finally drink your coffee, you realise xiao has scribbled his number on the side of the cup. maybe all this time you were crushing on the local barista, he was crushing on you too.)

wahhh i missed writing 🥹 i tried something new with this one, i usually prefer writing confident and flirty readers so i hope this is okay for a first time hehehe. hope you enjoyed! <3

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hiii, how about writing some fluff about Poe teaching reader who’s a new pilot for the resistance some of his tips on flying? The rest is up to you. I’m missing Poe as well :,)))

Baby Wings

Poe Dameron x Reader

TW/CW: Nothing!

A/N: I might consider writing this on my tablet because lord help me, typing these out on a tiny phone screen is not good for my hands! 😩

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

You couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering inside of your belly as Poe Dameron--the Poe Dameron--leaned into your cockpit to point out the controls of your new X-Wing.

You had just been appointed to his squadron as a fledgling pilot. You had originally been a smuggler that the Resistance hired routinely, and apparently, a flight maneuver you performed in a dogfight with a few weequay pirates got Poe's attention.

If you could fly like that in an old hunk of clunk freighter, how would you do in something designed for finer maneuvers, for dogfights?

How good would your skills be against the First Order?

Your senses were currently buzzing as everything Poe invaded the cramped space. The smell of oxidized metal, or smoke and ozone from patching up hull breaches and walls to the base; the smell of sweat and cheap juice he'd downed before spotting you in the hangar and rushing over to offer his "expertise".

He wasn't looking at you, he was practically laying on you, actually; as he supported his weight on the console with one hand and pointing out the dials, buttons, levers and latches you'd need to memorize to control your new fighter.

His face had thin rivulets of sweat trickling down his gloriously almost-olive skin, his dark raven curls falling around his face, clumped with excess sweat. His suit was soaked too, the orange having dark stains from the moisture his body was sweating out thanks to the damned heat of this Force-forsaken planet.

But honestly, you sent a silent prayer to whomever was listening for the heat, because you hoped--like some foolish schoolgirl with a crush on a galaxy-famous athlete--that Poe would get sick of the heat and tear off the top half of his suit to cool his heated skin.

You were so absorbed in staring at him, that you had almost entirely forgot to listen to him. You only realized your brain lapsed when he turned his head to smile that trademark grin of his, wrapping up his last sentence.

"...and then that's the yoke, obviously. Don't need to tell you that. Got it?"

"Wh--oh! Y-yep! Got it, commander..." You cough awkwardly, four fingers fiddling pointlessly with the controls.

"Kay, theeeeen..." He smirked at you from the corner of his eyes as he turned back to your control panel. "...repeat everything I just told you. Y'know... So I know my impeccable lessons stuck."

"I, uh--well, uh. This is the..." You began to blubber out, trying to find something you did know and give a quick, half-assed explanation on what it did.

Poe barked out a hearty belly laugh, "Don't even bother, darlin'... If you were paying attention... You'd know that I squeaked in a line about me being the former Emperor of Kashyyyk. And, as handsome as I am, unfortunately, I feel ike the wookies might have an issue with me wanting to claim the throne. ...If they even got one."

Your face flushed with color and you buried your face into your hands, "Stars, I am so sorry. I-I really was trying to pay attention, I just..."

"Got lost in all this--" He leaned back to gesture to his messy, sweaty form. "--primal, god-like, drop-dead gorgeous attractiveness?"

From the bottom of his ladder, you could hear BB-8 tweet out a response that called Poe out. You swore you could make out "nerf-herder" and "Hutt's armpit" in-between his refuting whistles and beeps.

Poe leaned back on the ladder and frowned at his round companion, "Hey, you little womp-rat! I will have you know a lot of people find me handsome!"

BB-8 once again doubted that claim, your abilities once again picking out few choice words such as; "drunkards", "a blind quarren" and "brain-dead jawa".

You need to laugh at their bickering overpowered your embarrassed, darkened cheeks and you titter and snort at what little you could pick ou.

Poe looked at you with a playful scowl, "What're you giggling about?"

You cover your mouth and point down at BB, who tweeted as he spun in a circle.

Poe looked between you and BB, his jaw going slack as his amber eyes looked to the both of you in disbelief.

He finally looked back at you for a final time, pointing at you.

"You," He pointed down at BB-8. "Can understand him?"

You rub the back of your neck. "W-well sort of... I spent a lot of my childhood working in a droid repair shop, and--"

Poe clapped, whooping happily, "Oh, I knew I liked you! Finally, somebody else who can hear what this little metal butterball is shouting at me! You'd be surprised at how many people don't understand droids!"

He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "...Sometimes I think they're the lucky ones."

BB-8 twittered and shrieked a response, beeping rapidly in an irritated manner, making Poe laugh once again.

Finally, he leaned into the cockpit once more, winking at you.

"C'mon, darlin'... let's go over this again so the info soaks up into that pretty little brain o' yours. And if you do a good enough job on the pop quiz... maybe we can hit the local cantina!"

[wizisbored]

wip wednesday sentences for 19/2

the parent's guide to the young conduit @noisesfrombeyondtheuniverse @nonbinary-octopus

"Sometimes I just want to be blunt with her, just- It’s not your fault you were being bullied, Lydia. But I’m not sure that would help.”

“And you think learning more about ghosts will?”

“Yes. Yes I think it will,” Charles says. He’s been hesitant around decisive decisions concerning Lydia lately - he went back and forth on the school move a hundred times before he ever mentioned it to her - but he’s doing his best to be certain now.

“Then of course I’ll learn to do an exorcism with you.”

it's not me @zyrafowe-sny @somefishycat @whimsicalmeerkat @auburnlaughter @asha10100101010

He looks like he’s going to elaborate, but he doesn’t. Nimona furrows her brow.

“What?”

“I’m not sure if it would be too much.”

“Just spit it out, Boss. I can’t deal with being out of the loop right now.”

He nods. “Right, yeah, that makes sense.” He pauses again, and then continues slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Nimona, am I right in thinking the rabies symptoms are… interacting with your trauma responses?”

Nimona squints. The hand on her forehead moves up to comb through her hair. After a few moments, she pulls her other hand away from Ballister’s to join it.

“I don’t- maybe? But it’s not just- History repeats, Ballister. Things happen over and over.”

He doesn’t reply for a long moment. Probably just shocked that she used his actual name.

from the back of a blood red mare @phantom-z0ne @kallisto-k @thefandomlesbian @oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin

“That puts a real hitch in the plan…”

“That’s what I thought!”

“We can’t confront her in front of them, and if I try to go out there and speak to Ambrosius I’m sure she’ll find some way to make me look worse.”

“So you need ‘em alone? I can do that, just lemme know which one you want first.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hey, why?”

“The look on your face kid. Don’t trust it as far as I could throw you.”

“That doesn’t really mean anything, I’m sure you could throw me pretty far if-”

She’s cut off by the sound of the bell over the door, and whips her head around to look. And of course, it’s him. Standing there with his infuriatingly neat hair.

the book in the birdbath @dreamed-for-not @twyrewolf @tamsinswriting @combeferres-mothematics

Skye giggles, but doesn’t say anything in reply. For a long few moments the two of them just lay side by side in the quiet and look up at the ceiling tiles.

“...I think he really cares about you,” Skye says after a while.

“Huh?”

“Your dad. The stuff I overhear, I think he cares about you a lot. My parents are overprotective sometimes and sometimes it gets on my nerves but it’s only because they care a lot. It’s not their fault.”

Lydia continues to stare at the ceiling, thinking. Maybe it’s because of the late hour, maybe because she’s already told this kid so much, but either way when the thought comes to her she admits, “I wish he’d say it more.”

“Huh?”

“My dad. I just… I wish he’d outright say that kinda thing, the ‘I love you’ type stuff. He did start saying it more while I was in the coma, but… Y’know.”

so has the gospel @eriquin @akumteir

“Oh, um- Okay.”

It shuffles closer and they arrange themselves into a circle, Clémentine listening intently to Kingsley’s instructions; “It’s clap, right, clap, left, shoulders, elbows, rock the baby - you’ll pick it up.”

It takes them a little while to get into a rhythm, with the four of them. That just makes it a better distraction. And so too does the continued lyric debate.

“I did only ever hear the dying version,” Cole admits, “but that’s how these things happen, isn’t it? The stories change.”

[celestial-letters]

02: MC'S HALF-BAKED PLAN

TALK TO ME BABY! — AN OBEY ME SATAN X READER SMAU

the next monday, you had your sights set on one thing. making things right with your partner. while leaving your 9am class, you got a text from belphie.

you had gotten back to your dorm while texting levi, so you took off your shoes, left your backpack on the floor, and waited for levi. it actually took way less than ten minutes for him to get there. he knocked on the door and you let him in, welcoming him with a smile on your face.

"levi!! how's it going." you greeted him as he sighed. you led him to your tiny couch. he sat down as you took out your laptop and made a blank document. you titled it as "VERY WELL MADE SPEECH" before turning to levi.

"so, how should we start this" you asked. levi shrugged and you sighed in response. "okay, let's see..." you turned back to your screen. "maybe, like, "hey guy who got assigned my partner-" levi was interrupted by you. "no, that's lame!!"

"well, do you have anything better?" levi asked. "no..." you frowned and sighed again, turning back to your computer screen and beginning to type levi's sentence.

"i should apologize to him. maybe that'll get his attention." you thought out loud. "what did you even do? i just don't get it, mc." levi laid back and crossed his arms.

"i dunno." you laughed. levi ran his fingers through his hair. "you're hopeless..." you gasped at his remark. "rude, much? anyway, let me type out an apology.

once you were finished with the apology paragraph, levi asked to see it. it read:

"hello guy who got assigned my partner. on friday, when we got out partners assigned, you had stared a stare of hatred at me. you looked like you wanted me dead. and for that i'm sorry. i'm sorry that, although i don't remember, i may have hurt you in the past. whatever i did to you, i hope you'll forgive me."

"that's the first paragraph, right?" levi asked, somewhat confused. you nodded. "yeah. why, is it too short or too long or something?"

"oh, no. it's great. you could probably add a little more and then you could be done. i think he'd forgive you." levi concluded, proud of your apology letter. "alright, i'll add a bit and then i'll let you read it again. sound good?" you asked. levi hummed in agreement. and thus, you began typing away.

after a few minutes, you lifted your fingers off the keyboard, handing you laptop to levi, who had began playing ruri tunes on his phone while waiting. the final apology letter read:

"hello guy who got assigned my partner. on friday, when we got out partners assigned, you had stared a stare of hatred at me. you looked like you wanted me dead. and for that i'm sorry. i'm sorry that, although i don't remember, i may have hurt you in the past. whatever i did to you, i hope you can forgive me, and if you don't i hope that you can either forgive me in the future or that we can move on from this, as i would like to work on our project like the civilized people we are. though, i do hope you accept my apology as it would be pretty difficult to work with someone who hates your guts. thank you, blonde man."

"it's super long, are you sure he's gonna listen to you read all of it?" levi voiced his only concern, he actually thought it was pretty good. if it was an essay, that is. "meh, i'm sure it'll be fine. hopefully. anyway, thanks for the very helpful help you gave me you totally didn't supply me with one sentence." you said as levi silently powered off ruri tunes. "mc, i was supposed to help you stop solomon from telling everyone about you half-assed plan. you tend to forget things, you know." you mouthed an "oh".

finally ignoring him, you checked the time on your laptop. "oh, look at that, we only spent ten minutes. i honestly thought it'd take longer."

"well, thanks for your help, man." you said as levi got up and grabbed his things. "don't mention it." he said as he opened the door.

after he closed the door you yelled out for him. "i'm still not getting you the vinyls. you didn't really help, y'know." you heard a soft groan from levi, muffled by the door. you soon heard his footsteps getting quieter, until they couldn't be heard.

"well, time to wait three whole hours just to see that guy's response.." you thought to yourself. "a long, grueling, three hours..."

back to ttmb masterlist

[phightingaus]

holly fartttttt

overgrow au , go

https://phighting-ocs-real.fandom.com/wiki/Overgrow_au

:3

[the link!]

YOOOOO IT'S YOU!! WAVES AT YOU HI HI HIII IT'S ME HAHAHSH ( @nonofficial-anon ) HELLOO!! LIVE REACTION TO THE AU BELOW HASHDASDG

1.) I JUST SAT DOWN???? I JUST GOT HERE???? 10/10 first sentence into an AU I've ever read LMFOAID I HEART KILLING OFF THE SUBSPACE!!! /SILLY

2.) I'm trying so hard to think of a name for half-plant Subspace.... uh uh uh uh.... Venspace Flytrap (after venus flytrap). did i cook /silly. anyways I LOVE GIVING FACTIONS LORE OMHLHL WAIT WAIT WAIT what if the plant is like. a kind of lotus. and like. that's why Vine Staff has a lotus as her phinisher. chat let me cook. anyways What Do You Mean It Got On Subspace's Fresh Corpse. DID HE GET KILLED IN THIEVES' DEN???? wait that'd be sick let that happen... oughj live laugh love plant characters

CHIGRAFT: CHIGRAFT!!!!! MY BABY /POS THE ABSOLUTE GOOBER!! aww they're a mini subspace.... dw chat I'll give you as much attention as you need !! -i say as they order my death to the 929399293 zetas nearby /silly

HYPERLASER: ooooooo wait wait wait wait wait I have a question, how and why did he improve the biografts? was it for a specific motive for himself or was it like. advice from external sources? type shit. cuz I feel like that's not smthn he would do UNLESS under very specific circumstances cuz I love the idea of Hyper taking responsibility over a biograft model.... wojghgjg hyperlaser-based bio skin when /silly ALSO THAT IS A SICK NAME FOR A BIO

VINE STAFF: WHATATATATT????? SHE'S THE WHAT?????? part of my whimsiness is dead bc tumblr saved the wrong iteration of the draft of my reply so uh. questions instead of forcing it yippee!! how is she the curse now (how'd it happen type shi)? why'd she do that to Thieves' Den (and was it out of malice)? what kind of ruler is she? food for thought, love it when an au focuses on her somewhat yippee!!

SUBSPACE: WE KNOW HIM, WE LOVE (and hate) HIM, THE MAN HIMSELF!! good lord how much damage did scythe do 💔💔😭 wait wait wait ims ory CHOPPED IN HALF??? I THOUGHT. WHATATATTT NAWH 😭😭😭😭😭 but like thieves' den comes and saves the day so /silly

Dude imagine how funny it is in concept. like. this guy. the guy who believed in the power of technology more than anything else. gets Revived by plants. yeah erm,.,. you owe the planet your life² now buddy HAHAHSHD– AWEE WAIT HE THANKS THEM nvm you're cool now nobody can make me hate you agrhagrhajgrehjw subspcae...... my wife..... belovedf......

"It (the rot) still eats on him a bit, but he's more focused on an infection of vines on his body" yeah uh, i think i would be too!! smiles aty him hehhehhdfjhfsjkefjkhdkajhwdOHS WAIT HOWB HATHAT SHJIT HOW DID I NOT MAKE THE CONNECTION THAT THIS IS THE SAME CURSE VINE HAS???? OMLOML WAIT THAT;S SO COOL??!?!?

AWWW HYPERCARER !!! THE SILLY THE GOOFY AWAUIRUDHWJHBWAKD HE JKNITTED HIM A SWETTER!?@?!??@?!@?! SUBSAPFCE TAKE THE SWEATER NOW!!!!!!!!! YELLS AT HIM LIKE THAT ONE MS PAINT REACTION PIC ("let's get you back to bed, brandpa" ass chigraft HAHSHDHAHDA GO MY SCARAB!! FORCE HIM TOS LEEP)

oh ym hgod. motehrly voice. vine sdatf is taht you... WAIT IS THAT MOTHER NATUYTER??!?! holy crap the amount of typos HAHAHAHAHS I'LL KEEP THE,M HERE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. HEART EMOJI

oghmgohfkljh gardening subsapc.... i wanna draw that now. im gonna draw that.,., LATER. LATER I SAY!!!!

THE BROKER: ew it's him, ew ew ewhewjehjwad /pos WAHT TEH FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE KILLED WINDFORCE??!?!???@ HOW THE UFCK. HOW. HOW. WHO., WHAT;KL WHTAHTEIF ok nah he deserved that death wts /silly /pos but now he's a ghost.,,, me omw to exorcise ths mf until he stops eixsting in this very universe we call teh inphinity YOUR VERDICT IS GUILTY!!!!111!!!!1 FIR BROKEN HONOR AND RETRIBUTION!!!💥💥💥💥💥💥

BAN HAMMER: my shayla..... MY SHAYLAAAAAA!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OMGOGM MY BBYYY OHMY GOD THAT'S SO SAD (i heart banhammer if you couldnt tell /silly)

MEDKIT: "mangled subspace" ch. chat i think yall did more than that /pos SHAYLAS WHY'D YIU FIGHT??!?@!@ NAURRR oh nawh they fr did that to each other 😧😧 omg. subspace and medkit become friends arc real. mgghjggghkjshfkjsg few i lvove them i love this au ahjrgjrgrhjrg AWEEEE HE GETS A PROSTHETIC EYE!!!! omg chigraft heals. HELL YEAHHHH MY MAN!!!

SCYTHE: AND I SAY LET HER BE EXEECUTED!!!!!!!!!!!! ANGRY EMOJI ANGRY EMOJI /SILLY /POS

wait. a . af ucking CNANON????? EXIUHES ME???? LASER PROJECTILES?????? most normal scythe buff let's be real /j JESUS FUCK TH THRONE PILE..... ok yknow what that's the one thing hat's very based of her good job /silly

OLIVE: ima be honest I ain't got no idea who this guy is ims oryr 💔💔 also what happened to shuriken.... I am shuddering... timbering me boots.... me shimbers.... WHAT DO YOU MEAN FREE SHURIKEN WITHOUT HURTING VINE STAFF????? WHATSG OING ON WITH MY BABIES

"Olive also owns a good business" being the start of the next sentence is so insanely funny to me. just like. oh yeah this guy's living in a reality traumatized by its own system, but hey business is doin good! /silly HAHDHFH

woag how did Playground become the safest.... /gen unless you hc Playground differently ofc hsbdhdbfh OMG KOI FISH MENTIONED

SHURIKEN: WHAT. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT. WHA

JUDGEMENT AX: still not over Shuriken btw. WHAT.like. ahem. anyways. YOOOOOO BAN HAMMER TRAINING SOMEONE REAL !!!!! also help using the percentage thing is diabolical but also insanely creative HAHSHDH

KATANA: HELL YEAH THAT'S MY GOAT YIPPEEE

DANTE: Hi, I ended up reading everything in this without typing down my reactions help. anyways. hyperlaser what the fuck have you been feeding your biograft child?? excuse me while I take notes but the names are also hella creative, I love using past present and future as names like ough -i say as I get consecutively shot down by all three /silly

BOOMBOX: OGMGLGMKGMGKT help I like how almost everything above Bb was tragic/horrifying and then here's this guy with Yeah I Make Music Professionally Now /silly /pos i heart boombox RAHHHHHH

OHMYG9CID I AM BOWIMG DOWN TO BB AS WE SPEAK. I WANT A VALK N DOM PLUSHIE RAHHHHHHDJJEDJD also oml I love his gear upgrade?? I'd use that to blast lofi lwk HAHSHHD

THE FLIPSIDE

VALK: I had to search up what stilts are help. did my beautiful bbg Valk get them just to be a little taller 😭 /pos

WHAT DO YOU MEAN. WHAT DO YOUM EAN. CHIGRAFT WHAT DOES THIS MEAN WHAT DO YOU MEAN. DID ILLUMINA DO SOEMTHING IS WEAR TO GOBDNREOK IM GONNA FRY HIS LAST WING AND DIP IT IN RANCH

DOM: omg Dom boyfriend era /silly I wish them the best ong 🗣️ does Dom know about what happend to Valk tho? /gen

THE SFOTH

SWORD: ONYKGOFOSJD SWOCKET IS REAL SWOCKET IS REAL I HEART SWORD AND ROCKET THOSE TWO MAKE ME WANNA CRY (inserting that one bittersweet ending swocket oneshot. sighs... i still taste you on my lips (lovely bitter water) by the googly moogly anon my beloved)

ILLUMINA: OHHHH THAT'S WHO SHE IS!!! wait. at. at what cost? what do you mean at what cost. is she the one who traumatized valk. chigraft answer me. CHI ANSWER ME DID SHE TRAUMATIZE HIM /silly /pos

VENOMSHANK: YIPPEEEE VENOMSHANK MORE TRAINING ERA!! oml he's so real. so very based. "thank you for making swocket real" we all say in unison /silly

ICE DAGGER: FUCK YEAHHHH LET HIM BE LEADER also omg the family hanging out..... ahrhfjfjjfngnfnfn I live for sfoth family stuff ogmglgmgkgng firebrand me next pls /silly

FIREBRAND: oml. adopt me next please /silly i heart firebrand

I LOVE THIS AU SM!!!! SORY FOR NOT RESPONDING EARLIER A LOT OF STUFF HAPPENED BY ANYWAYSYYSYSS LOVE THIS CHRIGRAF!!! HEART EMOJI HEART EMOJI HEART EMOJI