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jakesimfromstatefarm · 13 days ago

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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

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

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. 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

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

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 !!

<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

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metalandmagi · 2 years ago

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Romance Anime Starter List

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sick and tired of seeing “Top ___ Best Anime of All Time” lists that are nothing but shounen. So, with "My Happy Marriage" getting a little attention from the anime community, I wanted to put together a list of some romance anime that I consider good “starters” for the genre. Because if I were just now becoming an anime fan, I’d think all there was to offer was shounen action series.

And by “starters” I mean basic stuff that’s not too…out there, and actually involves the characters getting together instead of just harems or using romance as a side plot (sorry Ouran High School Host Club and My Next Life as a Villainess).

So if you’re new to anime and want stuff that’s not just guys beating the shit out of each other (which is also fun, don’t get me wrong), here are some basics.

Taisho Maiden Fairy Tale- When the pessimistic Tamahiko Shima loses all function in his right arm, his family sends him away to live in the mountains with the cheerful, hard working Yuzuki Tachibana…who was purchased by the Shima family to pay off her family’s debts and basically act as a caretaker/future bride for Tamahiko so they’d never have to deal with him again. It’s a more cheerful version of My Happy Marriage (without the supernatural stuff), except in this one, the guy is the one who has massive self-esteem issues and an abusive family. There are still very serious themes, but ultimately it’s not meant to make you cry every episode. I swear it’s so good, but nobody watched it!

Horimiya- A slice of life in which pretty and popular high school queen bee Hori, finds out her quiet, unassuming classmate Miyamura is hiding piercings and tattoos that could get him expelled. The two gradually find out more about each other and get together in the most realistic way I’ve seen depicted in an anime. It’s also fucking hysterical and genuinely emotional.

Recovery of an MMO Junkie- Another slice of life that focuses on two adults who meet in an MMO game without realizing they also know each other in real life. I don’t want to say much more than that. It’s adorable, and the main character is so relatable it hurts.

Love with Yamada-kun at Level 999- Speaking of MMOs, this is a newer series about Akane Kinoshita, a college first year who’s reeling from a bad break up. In an attempt to get back at her ex, she winds up meeting Akito Yamada, a popular gamer who happens to be in her guild in the MMO they both play at an IRL meetup. The two go from acquaintances to something more as they keep running into each other. Even more relatable main characters and just wholesome relationships all around.

Snow White With The Red Hair- A fantasy in which an apothecary named Shirayuki (meaning, you guessed it, “snow white”) runs away from her home in order to escape becoming the concubine of her town’s prince. While fleeing, she is rescued by Zen, the prince of a neighboring country, and she ends up becoming an herbalist to repay him. It's super cute with some genuinely swoon worthy moments and a couple that just works so well together. I have a habit of comparing this to Akatsuki no Yona, even though the two aren’t really that alike. This is more romance driven while Akatsuki no Yona is more of a serious historical fantasy with romance elements (Yona manga is amazing, but the anime barely scratches the surface, so that’s why I didn’t include it).

Sasaki to Miyano- When the shy, easily flustered Miyano meets Sasaki, a cool “delinquent” upperclassmen, the two end up bonding over manga…specifically BL manga. That’s right, Miyano is a fudanshi, but due to his small stature and somewhat feminine appearance, he’s constantly trying to convince others that he’s not interested in having his own love story where he’d be reduced to a stereotypical doe-eyed uke. But as Sasaki and Miyano spend more time together, they realize that what they have is more than friendship, and they have to come to terms with their own perception of gay relationships. This is my favorite romance of all time. It’s a slow burn, but boy is it worth it. Their relationship is so natural and realistic, just like Horimiya. Just two people hanging out and bonding over things the way people do in real life!

Given: The story of some boys in a band with trauma. Enough said. It's great. Go watch it.

Bloom Into You- Yuu Koito is a high school girl who’s been waiting her whole life for her own perfect romance to start…but when she receives a confession, she realizes she doesn’t know how to respond when she’s just not into the guy. And then she gets another confession…this time from the cool student council president Touko Nanami, who basically jumpstarts her lesbian awakening. Very cute story about how we perceive the concept of love vs actually feeling it. Also has a canonically aro/ace side character, so that’s a win for me. Another show like this is Adachi to Shimamura (but I honestly don’t remember much about it. It just didn’t stick with me as much).

Ore Monogatari- Takeo Gouda is a tall, bulky high school first year with a sensitive heart of gold. He wants nothing more than to find his own true love, but most girls are intimidated by his enormous stature, and they end up falling for his conventionally attractive friend instead. That is, until he meets the tiny, adorable Rinko Yamato. He falls in love instantly, but he’s sure she’s interested in his best friend like everyone else, so he vows to help get them together, even though his heart is breaking. Peak himbo behavior. Pure of heart, dumb of ass.

Yuri on Ice- Yes it’s the gay figure skating anime everyone knows. And yes it’s a fucking romance, okay? I will die on this hill. The romance between Viktor and Yuri is just as important as the plot!

Kaguya-sama Love Is War- Two insanely smart high school students both have a crush on the other, but since they’re…you know…high schoolers, neither of them wants to admit it first. So they come up with increasingly convoluted plans to get the other to confess first. This will go down as one of the best of all time. It’s a hilarious yet poignant modern classic.

Fruits Basket- I’ve talked about it before and I’ll talk about it again. A romance “comedy” that slowly morphs into a drama about a girl named Tohru who finds herself living with the mysterious Sohma family after her mother dies. Little does she know, the Sohmas are the victims of a (somewhat silly, but ultimately tragic) curse that she must fight to break. Even though I’m more into it for the family drama, the romance is still top tier and plays an important role in the story. This is my second favorite anime of all time, and it’s a classic for a reason. If anyone hasn’t watched it yet, GO WATCH IT! IT WILL RIP YOU TO SHREDS!

Blue Box- A sports romance about an aspiring badminton player named Taiki Inomata who has a massive crush on the girls basketball team's star player Chinatsu Kano. Through a twist of fate, the two end up living together and having to hide it from the rest of their classmates, all while Taiki tries to work up the courage to ask Chinatsu out. It's so sweet and wholesome, and it's a great blend of sports anime and romance that can appeal to anyone who is more hesitant to get into the romance genre. The animation is also so freaking gorgeous!!!!

365 Days To The Wedding- A workplace romance between the two most awkward people you could possibly imagine! The story takes place at a travel company that is about to open a new branch in Alaska, but because our two main characters are...like I said...very awkward, they come up with a plan to avoid being sent to work at the new branch...by telling their boss they're getting married. Because they wouldn't want to split up a married couple by making one move away, right? As ridiculous as the premise sounds, hilarious shenanigans ensue, but there's also a surprising amount of serious discussions about romance and marriage. The main characters also have major autism coding, so if you're looking for a neurodivergent romance, this is it. (There's also an episode that involves a princess wanting to give up the throne to pursue a life with her girlfriend!)

And now for some honorable mentions that didn't quite fit into the regular list:

Ride Your Wave- A movie about a surfer who falls in love with a firefighter……and I’m not going to say any more than that. Go into it blind. If you like stuff like Your Name, this is a good one to watch.

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun- A comedy about a high school girl who finds out the upperclassman she has a crush on is actually a shoujo manga artist, and no matter how she tries to confess to him, he just never gets it.

The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague- A slow burn slice of life that focuses on a guy with ice powers who has a crush on his coworker. That’s it. That’s the show. When I say slow, I mean SLOW. It’s perfectly cute and fluffy, but my god does it take forever to get anywhere with these two.

Skip to Loafer- A high strung, small town girl decides to go to high school in Tokyo, where she meets a variety of classmates, including the laid back Sousuke Shima. The unlikely pair become friends, and soon enough, she starts to feel something more than friendship. The only reason I didn’t include it in the main list is because they don’t get together by the end of the first season, but it’s still really cute (also canonically trans character for the win!?)

So that’s my starter list. And no, I didn’t include Toradora, even though it’s a classic. I know it’s blasphemous, but I like it more as a comedy than a romance. It kinda lost me with the ending. But anyway, maybe someone will find something they like. Or maybe you'll just want to roast me and my picks 😅

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shirefantasies · 9 months ago

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LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

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coca-lastic · 7 months ago

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How would the MHA characters make the tiktok trend about ranking kisses?

If you don't know what trend I'm referring to, here it is

Characters: Hawks, Bakugo, Denki, Kirishima

Hawks is a sweetheart, we all know that. Additionally, he has a very strong presence on social media.

In the event that your two relationship is already public, he would record the tiktok as soon as you ask and publish it. If it's not public, then he would just test the filter and then save it to drafts.

He loves doing this type of things with you, he thinks it's an excellent mix between quality time and body touch, so when he has time he will please you with these types of activities.

Now, how was the kisses ranking?

1. Neck kiss: Do I have to explain? He just loves to get between your neck and kiss every spot. But he loves it more when you do it to him, it relaxes him and he likes the sensation of tickling and pleasure that it causes. I do not have doubts.

2. Lip kiss: Oh he loves your lips, and you love his, that explosion of love is just his second favorite.

3. French kiss: Ok ok, this was a battle against the kiss on the lips. I mean, they look a lot alike and I think Keigo loves both, but he thinks that the French kiss doesn't express as much feeling as a kiss on the lips can. The French kiss almost always indicates a specific thing, u know?

4. Forehead kiss: It seems to him a very tender sign of love, it is not as profound as the previous ones, it is just a small act that for someone as observant (and sensitive) as him can be the reason for his happiness for the next few hours.

5. Earlobe kiss: He likes the tickling sensation it generates, he finds it a very funny but hot feeling at the same time. He also likes it because he can hear your voice close to his ear.

6. Spiderman kiss: He probably just realized that that's pretty cute, but I firmly believe that after doing this trend he would appear from time to time flying above you to kiss you just like Spiderman does.

7. Cheek kiss: A bit the same as the kiss on the forehead, but the reason why this one is lower on the top is because normally you prefer to kiss him on the forehead, there is something about his hair and his eyes that makes you have the tradition of doing it there and not on the cheek.

8. Hand kiss: He doesn't do it very often, but when one of the two of you decides to do it, he finds it a mix of elegant and sexy, he likes it.

9. Nose kiss: Cute, just that, he finds that just cute.

10. Air kiss: "If you want to send me a kiss, come and give it to me on the lips"

Well, let's say you had to force him to do it. I mean, he likes spending time with you, but he prefers to keep it between the two of you, maybe watching a movie or just talking, but getting all those kisses didn't seem like a totally bad idea to him.

Of course, he didn't publish the video, once again it's because he prefers to leave his romantic moments private, he likes it intimate.

But, his top was like this:

1. French kiss: He likes it when you give him kisses like that, he finds it sexy on your part, and he also likes the combination of roughness and gentleness that exists in that kiss.

2. Earlobe kiss: He likes to be able to listen to you while you show him affection. Plus you usually do it when he's so focused on something that he doesn't listen to you, so it's a surprise to put your lips on his ear, he likes that.

3. Neck kiss: He finds it relaxing when you do it. And as we well know, this boy is not very relaxed, so in times of stress he likes that gesture.

4. Lip kiss: It's the classic one, u know? He can't just not love it. Normally he is the one who decides to kiss you on the lips, he thinks it is simple but at the same time a way to show you his affection without having to get too cheesy. "Your lips taste good."

5. Hand kiss: Call me crazy, but I feel like when Katsuki uses his quirk more than he should, his hands get burns. So I think he likes that you love his hands so much and that you show them that little affection.

6. Top of head kiss: He likes your hair and you're surprised at how soft his is. So for both of you it is a very frequent gesture, usually while you are lying in bed he will give you one. HE LOVES YOU TO TOUCH HIS HAIR.

7. Air kiss: He thinks you look beautiful when you make that gesture, he will never tell you but he loves how your lips come together to pretend to be kissing and how your eyes seem to shine.

8. Bite kiss: Normally one of the two of them does it when they pretend to be upset, and he also does it when he wants to camouflage his blush face. They are just small bites, sometimes on the cheek, nose or hands, just a silly gesture.

9. Cheek kiss: He's not much for enjoying very cheesy affection, but he does like a kiss on the cheek from time to time, just so that spot knows your lips too.

10. Butterfly kiss: The filter made he meet it and nah, in his own words "what is this shit? we look like idiots".

Denki was probably the one with the idea, I mean this guy looks like someone who spends 15 hours on tiktok.

And probably since he's in a relationship with you, his fyp is full of things he wants to try (and probably post) so you should be open to his requests.

And his top was like this:

1. Lip kiss: This man will get together with Mineta, but just look at him, he is a sweetheart, I think Denki likes even the smallest details of affection and love, so when you give him a kiss on the lips for him it is like a moment of pure happiness. "Can you kiss me again? I'm just not sure where I should put this," he said just to get a little more.

2. Cheek kiss: Again, he loves the little details, the little displays of affection, so when you're just walking or talking and you decide to surprise him with a kiss on the cheek it makes a blush cover his face. So yes, a well-deserved 2nd place.

3. Spiderman kiss: "Just imagine baby, I'm lying on the couch, and you come up behind me and kiss me. IT WOULD BE SO SEXY!" He loves it when you grab his chin to lift his head back and join your lips with his.

4. French kiss: I have to explain?

5. Nose kiss: AAAAAAAAAA, he loves it, he does it every chance he can, he finds it so tender.

6. Earlobe kiss: He just can't. He squirm at the sensation a little, but he loves hearing you laugh at the feel of it. It's true that he loves soft and loving, but something spicier doesn't hurt, I mean, he hangs out with Mineta anyway.

7. Neck kiss: The same thing, he love it buuuuut, earlobe>>>>

8. Butterfly kiss: He finds the sensation nice, it tickles him and it makes him laugh to see you so close, he thinks it's a nice way to laugh like the fools that you are.

9. Forehead kiss: He likes it but still prefers the previous ones for the simple fact that the forehead is not such a sensitive area or an area where he can fully feel your lips. "If you want to kiss me, lower your face a little more, you know?"

10. Foot kiss: No words.

This man. If you ask him for something he will do it, it's that simple. If you hear him do this trend he will probably already be bringing a ring light, a top quality camera and a green screen, just in case you need that too.

But when it came time to rank the kisses it was like this:

1. Cheek kiss: Simple is more. With a kiss on Kiri's cheek she would smile like the happiest person in the world. To him that seems so cute, so loving, so soft.

2. Nose kiss: He really likes to do it, it is everyday that to greet you, thank you, say goodbye or simply at any given moment he rubs his nose against yours.

3. Top of the head kiss: He thinks it's cute because that's not habitual. Because of his hairstyle, kisses are normally on the forehead, but when his hair is wet or simply without tons of gelatin, receiving a kiss there is the most beautiful thing he can wish for at that moment.

4. Lips kiss: MAAAN, he loves it, he just loves a little peck before any activity.

5. Forehead kiss: Now yes, this is more common for the two of you and especially for him it is very nice.

6: Hand kiss: BRO, HE'S A GENTLEMAN. He obviously loves kissing your hand like a real man, he's perfect for that, and he also loves when you try to imitate him and give him a kiss on his hand.

7. Neck kiss: I mean, he likes it but you guys don't do it all the time. In fact, they leave that type of affection for more private moments, and in fact at the beginning of their relationship they were too shy to take the initiative in it, but when the time comes he likes it.

8. Air kiss: He thinks it's cute when you throw a kiss and he catches it, it always makes him smile.

9. Butterfly kiss: meh, it's cute but no that much.

10. Bite kiss: JUST A NO.

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naughtyneganjdm · 27 days ago

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Christmas in Jackson - Chapter 5

Summary: Joel, Tommy and Maria take Y/N to The Tipsy Bison to have a relaxed ending for their night where Joel starts to recognize his undeniable feelings for Y/N. A surprise reveal brings back negative feelings for Joel that Y/N isn't prepared for.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Tommy Miller, Maria, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61159651/chapters/159176311

Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, Heavy Making Out, Dry Humping, Smut (kinda), Very Intense Dirty Talk, the return of grumpy Joel, etc.

Notes: This took me a significant amount of time to update because I was a little bummed to see that it got a decent amount of views, but no comments on AO3. But? I'm writing this story for me and the holidays kinda made it hard for me to update. So here is the chapter. If you'd like to read previous chapters, check them out here.

Today was unlike anything Joel had experienced in a long time. The last twenty-four hours he actually felt something he thought he had lost. A sense of happiness and joy. Surprisingly, the woman who walked into his inn that he was filled with rage toward at the start ended up being someone who brought out a part of him he didn’t even know existed anymore. And it felt good.

There was a warmth that flooded his veins when he looked at Y/N. Truthfully? He couldn’t remember the last time he felt that way toward anyone. Being around her was addictive. There was a longing to have her near him. And when he wasn’t kissing her? All he could think about was kissing her. The way she touched him, the way she looked at him…it was something that he looked forward to. Maybe it was fast, but he could tell that he had grown pretty hooked on this woman he had only just met.

Hearing her story tonight brought forth the urge to protect her and keep her safe. Originally, he just thought she was a stuck-up city girl, but getting to know her helped him realize that the two of them were more alike than he could have ever imagine. They both had broken pasts. Ones that stuck with them and made them feel like no matter what they would never be right again.

These feelings that he had toward Y/N? These weren’t feelings that you were supposed to have toward someone you had only just met. But he did. And with every second he stared out at her, he could feel that awe and adoration growing inside of him. Pretty quickly everything about her had appealed to him. Her smile. Her attitude. The way she presented herself. Every quirk and thing he learned about her only had that feeling that he hadn’t experienced in so long growing inside of him.

At dinner, things had grown uncomfortably quiet between them because what Y/N had told them was a lot to process. Tommy felt bad that he was the one that led to that discussion so he had kept quiet. Maria was the one working hard to bring forth good memories for her. When it came to Joel though? He was the quietest of them all. Joel was never good at saying the right thing. That was for certain. And he knew that he couldn’t make her feel better. So he just showed his support by occasionally placing his hand over hers. That’s the best he could really do at the time.

Desperate to make sure that she didn’t end the night on a bad note, Tommy insisted that they all came to The Tipsy Bison just to unwind for a few. Even though all of them were tired, especially after their day snowmobiling, Joel wasn’t eager to say no. He liked spending time with Y/N and he knew that Tommy just wanted to leave her in a positive mood.

During her conversation she made it pretty clear with them that she was sad, just like he was. Even though he put up these walls of anger and being closed off, she saw right through him. Broken recognized broken. That’s what she told him the other night. And now it all made sense. They were more alike than he cared to admit.

When they agreed to come to The Tipsy Bison, Joel managed to get Y/N to agree to not drinking anything more for the night. Especially after how drunk she got last night mixed with the things that she said, Joel didn’t want her night to end with her hurting. Or even worse, hurting herself. From experience, Joel knew just how bad alcohol was for a person who had that much trauma and negative thoughts. Most nights he fought his own mind on whether he was drinking to numb himself or drinking to give himself the courage to finally end the life that he was miserable having. So he didn’t want her to drown herself in that.

Thankfully, she didn’t fight him on not drinking. The only stipulation she had was if she wasn’t going to drink, neither was he. Which he had no problem doing. Numbing the pain was not something he wanted to experience right now anyways. He wanted to be very much present around her. Especially since he liked the way he felt around her.

Right now, Joel found himself standing inside of The Tipsy Bison at the other end of the pool table from where Tommy and Y/N were bickering. Bracing his weight on the pool cue that he had balanced vertically on the floor, Joel couldn’t help but smirk watching the two of them fighting about the game they were playing. Originally they had just planned to sit for a while and talk, but when Tommy saw that a pool table was open when they got there, he was eager to play a game. Making the teams Maria and himself against Joel and Y/N. For some reason, Tommy assumed by the questions that Y/N asked that she would be horrible at pool, but it was quite the opposite actually. And that infuriated Tommy because he was expecting the worst. Then again, Tommy was the only one of the four of them that had continued drinking, so maybe he was more wired up because of that.

Curling his fingers tighter around the pool cue, Joel felt the warmth of someone else moving in beside him. Taking a quick look, he saw that it was Maria joining him to watch the two of them going back and forth, “I saw that you know.”

“Saw what?” Joel grunted, his eyebrows furrowing with the lines in his forehead growing deeper when he finally turned his attention away from Y/N to his sister-in-law.

“That smile. You tried to hide it after you realized you were doing it,” Maria lifted her finger to circle Joel’s face causing him to wrinkle his nose and shake his head. “Nah, don’t hide it Joel Miller. Smiling looks good on you. Let it happen.”

“Stop,” Joel grumbled under his breath, trying to force the smirk that wanted to tug at his lips from coming. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“Yeah, yeah. Lie to yourself all you want, but I have eyes,” Maria teased Joel, reaching out to playfully squeeze at Joel’s upper arm. Sitting on the edge of the pool table, Maria turned to look at Tommy and Y/N who were both now laughing with their ridiculous banter. “You know what he’s doing, right?”

“Being a sore loser?” Joel was quick to respond drawing out a tiny laugh from Maria since that’s obviously where she wasn’t going with that question.

“Well, yes. That, but no…” Maria sighed loudly, her voice lowering when she turned back to Joel to stare out at him with a weak smile. Truthfully? There was no reason she had to attempt to be quiet. The bar was loud as it was and he doubted that Tommy nor Y/N would ever hear them talking with one another. “He’s trying to get her mind off the things she opened up to us about earlier. It’s not the best way to do it, but it’s sweet when you think about it.”

“That’s my baby brother. The sweet one,” Joel noted, his throat tensing up when he readjusted the weight of his body and played with the pool cue that he was holding onto. “I know what he’s doing and I appreciate it.”

“It took a lot of strength for her to open up about the things that happened to her. It makes you realize a lot when it comes to her,” Maria commented taking another quick look back at Y/N thinking about everything they now knew. “I’m glad she came here. I think it was good for her. And for you too.”

“Mhmm…” Joel hummed, not sure what to say to that comment. Things were confusing enough as they were. Talking things out with his brother’s wife was not something he thought would help him on his feelings toward Y/N. But he did know that Tommy was working hard to keep Y/N happy instead of allowing her sadness to swallow her whole. “Tommy might want to be careful though. If he keeps this up much longer, he’s going to lose that good guy image he worked so hard to build and people will start thinking he’s a baby.”

“Don’t you think it makes sense that I would be good at this kind of thing?” Joel heard Y/N ramble off drawing his attention back toward her reasoning with his brother. There was a big smile over her face showing that Tommy was successful bringing forth some joy after everything. “I’m good with my hands Tommy. If I was bad with them, I’d be worried. Being a trauma surgeon, I think that would make me a very bad one. Don’t you?”

“Come on. We’re not talking about that though. We’re talkin’ about pool. Which is more so mathematics and trajectories. Not the same thing as a human body,” Tommy threw his hand out toward the pool table eliciting a laugh from Maria at how dramatic he was acting in his response. Scrunching his face up in disbelief, Tommy scoffed and rest his hands at his hips. “I’ve known plenty of doctors that played pool like shit.”

"Oh, you know a lot of doctors?” Maria blurt out, moving around the pool table to reach out to grab a soft hold of Tommy’s arm to get him to look back at her. With a big-eyed expression, Tommy nodded his head about and Maria snickered. “How many doctors? Do I know them? Because the only doctor I know is a very old man. And I doubt he’d be able to properly hold onto a pool cue without shaking.”

“Honey,” Tommy hushed his wife, waving his hand about suggesting as if she should be quiet in the moment. It made Joel smile that Tommy was continuing on with this whole thing. And he knew that Maria was right. This was Tommy’s way of distracting everyone from letting the negativity hang over their heads. “I’m just making a point. She bamboozled me.”

“Bamboozled you?” Joel snorted from his end of the pool table, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s time just to own up to how things are. You’ve always sucked at pool little brother. Time to suck it up before you bamboozle yourself into believing you were ever good to begin with.”

“Well that’s just rude,” Tommy growled, his top lip wrinkling and his dark eyes narrowing at his brother. “Not all of us were blessed with perfect aim. But I do my best, I’ll have you know.”

“How many drinks did you have honey?” Maria wondered hearing the soft slurring that was coming from Tommy’s lips. Shrugging his shoulders it looked like Tommy was counting inside of his head and she lovingly placed her hand in over the center of Tommy’s chest. Patting there softly, Maria nodded over toward the corner table and smiled. “How about you and I go sit down for a while? Give them some time to play alone. I could definitely use some time off my feet right now. It’s been a busy day.”

Locking eyes with Joel, Y/N’s cheeks flushed over with a tiny smirk tugging at her features. Tommy gazed between Y/N and Joel considering his options. When he decided, he looked to Maria and gave her a wink, “Yes ma’am.”

Stepping away from Maria, Tommy did have a bit of a stumble to the way he walked. Maybe Tommy really was a little drunk making it easier for him to bicker freely with Y/N about the game he lost. Moving around the pool table, Tommy returned the pool cue to where it belonged.

Instead of heading back to Maria, Tommy stepped before Y/N and outstretched his hands. Placing them in over Y/N’s shoulders, Tommy gave them a firm squeeze having her smile at the way he was staring out at her with such a serious expression, “Now you listen to me, okay? You kick my big brother’s ass so bad that he feels awful about himself and goes home with his tail between his legs. Mmmk?”

“Easy,” she confidently nodded her head feeling like Tommy was giving her some kind of peptalk in her playing an innocent game of pool with Joel.

“Tommy,” Joel scoffed from across the table, both annoyed and amused that his brother cared enough to say that to her. Although, he didn’t hate it because it did elicit a huge smile from Y/N that took his breath away.

Coming to collect Tommy, Maria hooked her fingers with Tommy’s and curled her arm around his to make sure that he wouldn’t topple over on their way back to the table, “Now you two have fun while I get this one some much needed water.”

Leading Tommy toward the empty table that they were originally planning on sitting at, Maria knew that it would probably be good for Joel and Y/N to have some alone time together. Which is what she did having Y/N moving in beside Joel.

“He’s silly,” Y/N spoke up after Tommy had left them, nudging Joel playfully with her arm. “So he’s one of those happy drunks, huh?”

“Do you mean annoying?” Joel inquired, his head slowly turning with his right eyebrow arching. There was a muscle that flexed at the corner of his jaw when he evoked another amused laugh from her throat. “I’m not sure alcohol has an overall effect on him. I’ve seen him sad. I’ve seen him happy. And I’ve seen moments like that. Whatever he is feeling in the moment? Alcohol just seems to enhance it for him.”

“I guess I never realized that Tommy would be fun with how straight laced he seems,” she confessed, heading back to the table to start gathering the pool balls that were still left out on the table from their previous game. Once she had all of them, she grabbed the rack to start preparing for their next game. Spinning the rack in her fingers, she took time to think about her day and smiled. “Today has shown me that I enjoy spending time with the Miller family.”

“Well see, that’s you being biased about Tommy,” Joel suggested, snapping his fingers about. Turning on his heel to face her, Joel played with the pool cue that he was holding in his hands. “Because Tommy is not fun. Tommy in fact is a very boring soul. Always has been. You just like him because he’s nice.”

“Oh, is that it?” she snickered causing Joel to nod his head. Their interaction had him smirking which brought attention to one of his dimples. The sight of it had her heart skipping a beat. God he was cute. “Not to embarrass you or anything…”

Walking around the table, she dragged her hand across the top of the pool table with Joel’s dark eyes following her every movement. When she got before him, she outstretched her hand to caress at the center of his chest and then palmed up over his shoulder to curl her fingers into his hair. It caused Joel’s lips to part with his eyelids growing heavy having her near, “But I never noticed when we first met that you had dimples. Today? I’ve gotten to see them many times. And I like it. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” Joel repeated, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip in an amused rumble. “Puppies and kittens are adorable.”

“And so are you,” she hushed him, sliding her hand down to cover his lips with her index finger. Shaking her head had another smirk teasing in over his lips. “You can be this brooding sexy man standing before me and still be adorable.”

“I see,” Joel exhaled loudly when she lowered her hand, but instead of moving away she pressed in closer to him. “Well you know what I think?”

“No, what do you think?” she muttered, her long eyelashes fluttering when Joel closed the distance between them.

“I think you’re the adorable one,” Joel informed her, enjoying the way that her face flushed over with color hearing that.

A moment later, she was reaching up to drag her thumb in over the side of his face where his more prominent dimple was, “You know, one is more obvious than the other.”

“You don’t say?” Joel’s nose wrinkled, giving her a small nod. “You know I wouldn’t know that considering I’ve had them my entire life.”

“Okay, smart ass,” she pushed at the center of his chest getting him to stumble back slightly with a tiny snort escaping his lips. “I do agree with you though.”

“About?” Joel mused as she went back toward the end of the pool table to set up the balls. Leaning forward managed to draw her shirt to pull forward allowing him to get a look beneath it through the dip at her neckline. His throat went dry and he licked his lips with how easily his body started to heat up.

“I am the more adorable one. I won’t fight you on it,” she declared eliciting a loud groan from him that had him rolling his eyes. “I was just simply stating that I think your dimples are cute and they add to your personality.”

“Mhmm…” Joel hummed, setting aside his pool cue on top of the pool table. Taking his time, he made his way around the pool table toward where she was. Hooking his arm loosely around her waist, Joel persuaded her to turn to face him. Placing his hands in over her hips, Joel got her to look up at him and it sent a chill right through his veins. The way she looked at him was something he wasn’t used to, but God did he like it. Lowering his head down, he hovered his lips in over hers. Just having him near had her eyes fluttering to a slow close. How easily he had her reacting showed him just how much she wanted him to kiss her. “I can be very cute on occasion.”

Faintly allowing his lips to drag across hers had her believing that he was going to fully kiss her, but instead he snickered against her flesh and tipped his head back. Teasing her caused her to frown and let out a disappointed sound, “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Now I never said I was nice,” Joel retorted, the bridge of his nose wrinkling when a faint rumble of a laugh escaped him. His laugh grew with her pushing him away from her and he threw his hands up in the air feigning innocence. “What?”

“Jerk,” she scowled, heading back to set up their game again. Stopping at his pool cue, she grabbed it and tossed it back to him. Fumbling to catch it, Joel was still snickering that she got so worked up over him not kissing her. “Are you a betting man?”

“Depends,” Joel thought aloud, not confident with where the question was coming from.

“Let’s up the stakes of the game. What do you say?” she recommended, pulling away the rack after she was done and tossing it aside where it was before. Folding her arms in front of her chest, she rest her hip against the table. “If I win the game, you take me into some dark corner of the bar and you make out with me. If you win, well…you can think of something.”

“Oh, that’s what you mean,” Joel realized holding the pool cue in one of his hands while bracing his weight on the table with the other. Bobbing his head from side to side in an arrogant fashion, Joel knew that he was having fun playing with her. Taunting her was bringing out her spunky side and he liked it. “What makes you think I’d want something from you?”

“Hey, you better be nice to me Joel Miller,” she warned him, lifting her finger to point out at him. A snort involuntary escaped him with the amusement that was growing inside of him. “Or else you might not like the outcome.”

“And what might that outcome be?” he questioned, in that moment realizing that someone that was originally over by the bar was starting to make their way over toward the pool table where they were at. Suddenly the playful expression over his features grew very serious. Realizing who it was, Joel knew that it was someone who was at the bar when Y/N was drunk at the bar last night mouthing off about things. As they approached the table, Joel made his way around the pool table and placed himself in front of her. Using his free hand, Joel carefully ushered her in behind him so he could stand in front of her protectively. “Stay there.”

“What’s wrong?” she didn’t pick up on what was happening with the man approaching them.

And there was that protective side of him that wanted to keep her safe. With this being a small town, that unfortunately meant that Joel pretty much knew everyone in it. And the guy that was coming over there? Well he was known to be a bit of a ladies’ man that was always sinking his nails into any of the women that showed up in town that were travelers. There was no question that the guy was going to try to pick her up and say something skeezy in order to do so.

“Hey Joel,” the man seemed confused at how quickly Joel placed himself between Y/N and him when he spotted him coming over. Attempting to look beyond Joel to Y/N had Joel stepping aside to keep her from the stranger’s line of sight. “I hope you don’t mind. I just was hoping to talk to the doc for a few minutes. I know she’s new in town and…”

“I know what you were hoping to do and I mind. I mind a lot,” Joel cut the man off, his words coming off short with a tone of anger behind them. The fun and silly Joel suddenly became extremely intimidating in such a short amount of time. “You heard her ranting last night and you thought you would take advantage of the situation. Test your luck.”

“Joel,” the man spoke with a half laugh, not sure if Joel was serious about the way that he was acting. “I was just trying to be a nice guy and introduce myself. I thought it would be nice to get to know the people in town…”

“This one is mine,” Joel grunted, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat with his dark eyes narrowing. As soon as he said that? It was like something switched inside of the stranger that had him taking a step back. Over Joel’s shoulder, Y/N could see that Tommy was locked in after noticing the encounter. “And if you even think of bothering her…”

Joel paused, stroking his fingers down over the pool cue that was in his hand to bring attention to it, “I will break this over your head and then I will shove the remainder of it up your ass…”

Hearing Joel speak like that had the man’s eyes growing wide, his head nodding slowly as he started back stepping toward the area he came from, “Now you have a good rest of your night, okay?”

“Sure Joel,” the man held up his hands in a defensive motion hinting that he didn’t want any trouble with Joel. “I didn’t know she was yours. All you had to do was tell me and I would have turned the other way man.”

“I’m sure you would have,” Joel snarled, his eyes following the movement of the man all the way back to his seat. Once the man was seated again, Joel heard the sound of Y/N laughing behind him. Gazing over his shoulder, Joel realized that she was impressed. “What?”

“You have this town fucking terrified of you,” she noted how easily he got the guy to walk away from the pool table before even talking to her. And the guy wasn’t small either. So there had to be a reason that Joel was so capable of that. “Why is that? You’re probably smaller than that guy was.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” Joel commented, turning on his heel to face her realizing that she had put everything down and was no longer focused on the game of pool that they were planning on playing. “What?”

“I’m just curious what has everyone so scared of you,” she stressed to him, stepping forward to reach out to tug faintly at the material of his shirt to pull him in closer to her. “Is it your award-winning personality? Or do people actually have a reason to be scared of you?”

“For certain people, I’m kind and very helpful,” Joel explained to her, grunting when he thought about the people that lived in Jackson. “But for others? They know better than to fuck with me. I may not be the biggest man here or the tallest, but I’m stronger than I look. And there has been times, especially when Tommy and I first got to town where people learned that. You’re good with your hands? Well…so am I. Just in different ways.”

“Wow,” she slurred, her eyes focusing in on his lips. “That’s it?”

“That and a few things,” Joel swallowed down hard, his breathing growing louder. “Y’know how rumors spread when people are scared of you. They have fun talking about my past. Spreading rumors about things they think they know.”

“Should I be worried?” her hand palmed in over his bicep pulling forth a chill inside of him at the way she was touching him.

“Probably,” he breathed out, but she didn’t seemed worried in the least. There was part of him that was afraid to admit that to her, but she didn’t seem to be upset with the idea. No, it was quite the opposite. Swallowing down hard, Joel felt her taking the pool cue from him. Setting it down on the table, she reached for his hands to stroke over the tops of them. Tracing over them had a lump in his throat developing with his dark eyes locked on hers.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you told him that I was yours,” she pointed out in a whisper, closing the distance between the two of them. Tipping up on her toes, she braced her back against the pool table to bring them closer together. “Why is that?”

“Well, he’s a big mouth,” Joel responded with a simple expression acting like it wasn’t much of a big deal. Faintly she stroked at the center of his chest and he couldn’t help but be charmed by it. “I figure he’ll tell everyone that might get any ideas about approaching you over the things you said last night and they won’t bother you.”

“Oh, that’s all?” she hinted that there may have been more of a reason, biting down on her lip in what felt like a seductive manner having a fire flooding through Joel’s veins. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else,” Joel repeated the words that she said, leaning in to attempt to meet her in a kiss, but she pulled back like he had done to her earlier in the night.

“Then I guess we can just keep playing if there is no other reason,” she proposed, pointing back toward the pool table. Gasping out, she felt Joel’s thick fingers hooking around her wrist tugging her back toward him. The tug was rough having her fall in against him. A moment later he was leading her through the bar toward another area she had yet been. “What about the game?”

“We both know you’re going to win,” Joel insisted exciting her at the idea of him pulling her away from the crowd of people that were in the bar. Taking a quick look back, Joel checked to make sure they were alone and weren’t being followed. Having her follow him to a back hallway, she assumed this was the area that the office was for whoever owned the bar. The loud music that had been playing was now muffled, but with Joel trapping her between his body and the corner of the wall she didn’t have a care in the world about it. “So why bother playing when I can just give you your winnings now?”

At first? She thought she would banter back and forth with him a little more, but Joel’s mouth forcefully claimed hers in a hungry kiss. A rush of excitement flooded throughout her body with her tipping up on her toes toward him. Instinctively her arms hooked loosely around his shoulders so she could brace herself against him. Purring against his lips, she was surprised with how passionate and unrelenting the kiss was. Sinking one of her hands into his messy hair had him lowering in closer to her allowing her to kiss him back just as much.

By the time they parted they were both breathless with the warmth of Joel’s mouth hanging in over hers, “I like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you too,” Joel growled, dragging his bottom lip up over her lips before starting to press kisses at the side of her face.

Usually? She didn’t do things like this and it made her worry in that moment, “With the things that I said when I was drunk? I uhm. I hope you don’t think I’m a slut or anything. I’m actually very careful. I have to take blood tests all the time with work and...”

“Okay…” Joel didn’t seem to care about what she was saying, panting when he leaned back enough to gaze upon her with his brown eyes. Leaning in to kiss her again had her placing her hand in over his chest to stop him which confused him.

“What I said about the sex and the blowjobs are the truth though. I do pay really close attention to the body and I’m capable of the things that I said,” she continued to explain with Joel nodding, his eyes locked on her lips showing that in that moment all he wanted to do was kiss her. Right now she seemed to be nervous and rambling on which made Joel smile. “I’m not some naughty, skanky girl that…”

“Hey Y/N?” Joel breathed, his fingers tracing in over the side of her face getting her to tip her head back to look at him.

“Yeah?” she whimpered with the rough pad of his thumb sweeping in over her bottom lip.

“Shut up,” he demanded with her immediately nodding her head. Stealing another kiss from her lips, Joel growled when she just as hastily kissed him back. For some reason she seemed nervous with him even through all the flirting they had done together. Confident or nervous. He didn’t care. This woman had a fire growing inside of his body that he couldn’t deny. Pressing his body in closer to hers had her moaning out. It had her mouth parting with his tongue eagerly brushing out against hers. Their hands were everywhere, touching the other and learning their bodies. Getting used to what the other liked while they made out in some dark corner of this bar. Joel was very dominant in the way that he kissed her and it was addictive. Having her eager for kiss after kiss that he rewarded her with. Hissing out, her eyes slammed shut when he started to kiss over the side of her face, over her jawline and toward her neck. Biting faintly at her jaw had her panting loudly, her hands caressing up over the lengths of his abdomen while he did it. Palming over her back, Joel stretched his fingers out when he reached her bottom to squeeze firmly in over it. “Y’know…it’s a shame you don’t think you’re naughty. Cus’ I was kinda hoping you would be my dirty girl for a while.”

“I’ll be as dirty as you want me to be,” she purred out, turning in toward Joel to bring their lips together in another fervent kiss. Sucking faintly at his bottom lip gifted her with a deep rumble of a groan that had her blood boiling with the desire she had for this man. “You have no idea how hot this is making me that you are doing this here…”

“You like doing things in public?” Joel slurred, his tongue faintly dragging out to draw a line over the front of her lips. Smirking, his eyelids grew heavy with want and he swallowed down hard. “How good is your poker face?”

“My poker face?” she cried out with Joel’s hand palming in over her bottom pulling her in closer to him. Enthusiastically kissing him again, she sank her fingers into his hair and arched her hips in closer to his getting him to wince against her lips. “Why?”

“I’d love to see you squirm on my cock in front of everyone,” Joel declared, nipping at her bottom lip before sucking tenderly at it. Just hearing him say something like that had her heart hammering inside of her chest. “We can get you to wear a skirt. Come here tomorrow. Sit at the corner booth. Have you sit on my lap…”

“Yeah?” she whined as Joel hooked his hand in under her thigh to lift her leg allowing him to press in closer to her. A firm roll of his hips against her provoked a loud gasp from her. Hooking her arm around his shoulders tighter allowed him to bury his nose in against the side of her neck.

“I’ll wear nothing underneath my jeans. When you’re comfortable, I’ll push your panties aside, undo my jeans and have you slide down onto my cock,” Joel continued in his thick, southern drawl with his kisses hot and wet against the side of her neck. “And you wouldn’t be allowed to move. You’d just have to sit there with my hard cock inside of you with everyone else around us. With how the back corner is, no one would see. Could you handle something like that?”

Hell, it didn’t matter if that was something she had never done. The idea of it alone had a warmth rushing to her core at the thought.

“Is that something you’d want to do?” she whined with Joel’s hips bucking up against hers again causing a moan to build up inside of her.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel growled, with her nibbling at his bottom lip. Every part of him felt like it was on fire with the way that she looked at him. He wouldn’t usually do something like this with someone. Especially someone he only knew for such a short time, but he was finding himself addicted to this whole thing. Tugging firmly at his messy hair with her free hand, she gave him a desperate nod. “Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow,” she agreed, her body numb with how much she wanted Joel. Everything about him had her nerves in a frenzy with her heart hammering away inside of her chest. “It’ll be hard for you not to move though. I’m very tight. You’ll have just as much trouble not making a sound.”

“Well then you’re just going to ache mighty bad,” Joel growled, pressing his forehead to hers with her dragging her hands down over the center of his chest. Lifting one of his hands, he curled his fingers around her neck giving it the faintest of squeezes. “Because my cock is big, and it’s pretty thick. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Maybe you should let me have some kind of a hint,” she cooed out, dropping her hands down to fumble with Joel’s belt working to get it open. But in her haste she was having more trouble with it than she would have liked. Chuckling against her lips had her whimpering out again. Gifting her with another kiss, he moaned himself when she sucked faintly at his tongue. Getting the belt apart, she started working open the button and the zipper in his jeans drawing forth a groan from Joel. “Maybe it’s time I showed you just how good my blowjob really is.”

“Maybe it is,” Joel agreed with her, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Stroking her hands down in over the sides of his face, Joel gazed over his shoulder and adjusted his positioning before her. Working with the material of his pants, Joel saw the hunger in her eyes and it sent an ache right to his growing erection.

Curling his fingers tighter around her neck, Joel hissed out when she lowered down before him. Swallowing down hard, Joel kept his dark eyes hooked on hers with her reaching up to start palming in over the front of his pants. Moaning out, Joel tipped his head back and winced with the restriction his jeans and his boxers still had over his hardening manhood.

Lifting up on her knees, she pushed with one of her hands at the bottom of his shirt to lift it up enough to start pressing wet kisses against the area right under his navel. Tiny nibbles led to another deep rumble of a moan with Joel bracing his feet firmly. Tugging at the material of Joel’s jeans managed to get them down enough in the front for her to lean into press a kiss against his length through the material of his boxers. It had him bracing his arm against the wall with his head leaning forward. Closing his eyes, even that fueled him more than he expected it to.

“Let’s see if your mouth is as good as your hands,” Joel growled having her tip her head back to stare up at him with big eyes. Dragging his thumb across her bottom lip had her taking it between her lips. Sucking faintly at him had his breathing growing louder, his head tipping back with the way one of her hands palmed and caressed over his cock through the material of his boxers. A raspy moan escaped his throat with him tugging back on her hair getting her to pull her mouth away from his thumb with a wet sound. “Okay, go ahead…”

There was a rush of excitement flooding through his veins with her looking drunk off him as she leaned in again to press a kiss at the outline of the tip of his cock through his boxers. Licking his lips, Joel stroked at the back of her head while she loosely hooked her fingers into the waistband of the material.

“Joel,” a voice called out causing Joel to tense up with him looking back over his shoulder to see that Tommy was walking down the hallway toward them. It had Joel immediately reaching down swiftly trying to pull Y/N up to her feet. When Tommy realized what was happening, he made a strange sound with him turning on his heel. “Jesus Joel! She’s giving you a blowjob in the middle of the bar?”

“She’s not…” Joel’s voice was rasp while he worked to get his pants back in over his body. Struggling to get his belt back together, Joel turned in front of Y/N knowing that she was undoubtedly embarrassed with Tommy finding them like that. “Well…not yet.”

Tommy remained facing the other way and there was a heat flooding into Joel’s face. Gazing back at Y/N he could tell by the color in her cheeks that she couldn’t believe that happened either, “Tommy? What do you want?”

“Can I suggest you two go back to the inn if that’s what you’re trying to do?” Tommy commented, stealing a quick look back at them thankful that Joel had buckled his belt and pants back together. “The police here would love to make an example of you…”

“What do you want Tommy?” Joel stressed his question feeling his heart pounding inside of his body, leaving a severe ache at his temple. Right now? His body was so incredibly worked up that it hurt more than he cared to admit to have his jeans zipped up like they were.

“Maria didn’t see you and she wanted to know if the two of you left without saying goodbye,” Tommy explained to Joel who cussed something under his breath. Why did they have to watch him like he was a fucking baby and they were his babysitters? “I can tell her that the two of you decided to go back to the inn if you’d like. We both would understand.”

“The moment is kind of over,” she spoke up with a pant and it frustrated Joel to know that his brother interrupted something that they had going and building between them. Stepping aside, Joel looked upon her with his dark eyes as she fanned her face. “I could use some water.”

“Okay,” Joel agreed, holding his hand out for her to go ahead back to the table that Maria and Tommy were at previously. Looking down, Joel did his best to reach down to adjust himself with Tommy groaning out in disgust. “I could use some ice.”

“Hey,” Tommy reached for Joel, grabbing his arm before he could follow Y/N out into the main part of the bar. “Do you really think after everything she just told you that it’s a good idea to have things start off like that?”

“Like what?” Joel huffed, his brow line creasing with him staring out at his little brother. Right now he felt lightheaded with things and the last place he wanted to be with an erection still was near his little brother. “She wasn’t doin’ nothin’ she didn’t want to be.”

“I think this is a girl you might want to make love to Joel,” Tommy suggested with Joel chuckling and rolling his eyes that Tommy would even say something like that. “She’s broken. I don’t think the first thing you should be having her do is give you a blowjob in the middle of a bar.”

“I’m not taking sex advice from my little brother,” Joel asserted, patting Tommy firmly at the center of his chest. Groaning out, Tommy obviously didn’t like how rough Joel was with him as Joel moved around Tommy to go back into the main part of the bar. Heading to the table, Joel winced when he took a seat at the constrictive material of his jeans clinging to his body.

“Are you two okay?” Maria confirmed with them realizing that they both had a bit of color to them. Joel looked to Y/N who slowly nodded and Joel mirrored her movements. By the way they were panting, they weren’t hiding things too well. “Where’d you run off to?”

“We needed some air,” Joel lied to Maria, tapping his fingers against the top of the table. Part of him wished that he could convince Y/N to take him back to the inn where they could finish things off because he was physically aching. Truthfully? Joel couldn’t remember the last time he actually fooled around with someone other than his last girlfriend he had. And that was a very long time ago. His hand had pretty much become his only source of relief when it came to things, so his body was furious with him. “But now we’re back, so there is that.”

Sitting down uncomfortably, Tommy stared out at the both of them with an awkward expression. None of them were talking and Maria easily picked up on it. Clearing his throat, Joel looked to Maria who had a ginger ale in front of her that she was spinning a straw in.

“Tell you what Maria? I haven’t seen you with a drink all night,” Joel recalled throughout the night she was always drinking either water or a soda. Usually she would enjoy herself a little bit throughout the night, so he was surprised to see that. “You not in the mood for a beer tonight?”

That question led to an even more deafening silence. Maria looked to Tommy who shook his head and swallowed down hard. With their eyes something seemed to be going on between them. An unspoken conversation that both Y/N and Joel were noticing, “Is something wrong?”

“No Joel, we just…we learned something today,” Maria started, and in that moment? Tommy looked like he was ready to throw up. Covering Tommy’s hand with hers, Maria seemed to squeeze at Tommy’s fingers with a reassuring grasp. “I hadn’t been feeling great over the last few weeks and I decided to look into it. And I found out today that I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

“We weren’t planning on telling anyone,” Tommy was quick to explain, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat with him shakily brushing his free hand through his long hair to slick it back. “Not until after Christmas. We wanted it to be a surprise so people could enjoy the holidays.”

“Oh hey,” Y/N smiled brightly, reaching out to give Maria’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “That’s awesome you two! Congrats!”

“Thank you,” they both spoke with Tommy seemingly more nervous than Maria. Instead of responding, Joel looked angry with his jaw flexing. His dark eyes narrowed and his breathing had grown louder.

“Say congrats Joel,” she nudged Joel in the ribs faintly having Joel wince and huff out loudly. Dragging his tongue out over his bottom lip, Joel looked down and forced himself to look away from them. “Joel?”

“Congrats,” Joel muttered still keeping his stare away from both Tommy and Maria only repeating what Y/N had told him to do in the moment. In her opinion? He had only done it to appease her. Which shocked her since Tommy and Joel seemed incredibly close.

Realizing that there was some serious tension amongst the table, Y/N could tell by Tommy’s expression that he was disappointed in Joel’s response to Maria being pregnant. Trying to think quickly, she cleared her throat and offered up a big smile, “Do you know how far along you are?”

“Not yet,” Maria answered with a shake of her head, her free hand lowering down to place in over her lower abdomen. “Today we just did a bunch of at home tests that confirmed it. I made an appointment with the doctor after Christmas to find out.”

“That’s amazing. Good for you,” she was surprised that Joel had completely shut down hearing that he was about to be an uncle. Right now she was at a loss for things to say. Especially since this should have been Joel’s job. Even though she had been around these people a bit since being here, she had only known these people a few days. “I bet you’re real excited.”

“Real excited,” Tommy stressed the words, his hands placing out in over the center of the table obviously trying to get Joel to look at him. Tipping his head back, Joel looked toward another area of the bar and folded his arms out in front of his chest. It didn’t take a genius to see that Tommy wanted his brother to respond in a way that most brothers would. “It’ll be nice to have a kid around.”

A tiny laugh escaped Joel’s throat and he shook his head, “Real nice.”

“Well I’m so glad we told you Joel,” Tommy sounded angry, but Maria was quick to hush him, her hand caressing in over his shoulder to calm him down. Swiftly turning his head, Joel’s brown eyes seemed furious with his little brother. “Maybe act like my big brother for just a second…”

Hearing the song changing in the background, Y/N was going to attempt to do her best to stop the oncoming fight that she could see coming between Joel and Tommy a mile away. Pressing her hand in over Joel’s chest and up over the side of Joel’s neck, she got Joel to look at her and felt the tension beneath her fingertips. By her touch, she was attempting to calm him, caressing at the side of his face. Nodding over toward the dance floor area, she knew it may be rude but figured it was for the best, “Joel, do you want to dance? I like this song.”

“No,” Joel was short in the way he answered her, lifting his hand to hook his fingers around her wrist to pull her hand away from his face. Stealing a quick look back at the dance floor, Joel saw the other people there having fun and laughing which only seemed to make him angrier. “Yesterday was a fluke. I don’t dance. It’s not for me.”

“Oh,” she paused starting to feel completely out of place. Maria had gone silent. If anything? Maria was pissed off at Joel’s response. Tommy was hurt by Joel’s response and it didn’t seem like Joel gave a shit at all. This was something she knew nothing about. “Okay. Maybe I should leave? Give you three some time to talk.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Joel stood up from his seat reaching for his jacket to put it on. Hell, he didn’t even bother to look at Tommy nor Maria when Y/N slowly stood up from the seat. Reaching for Y/N’s jacket, Joel helped lead her arms into it and pulled it up over her shoulders. When they were ready to leave, Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Giving a nod, it looked like Joel wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead he lowered his head and let out a frustrated breath. “Goodnight.”

Leaving Y/N at the table, Joel headed back toward the door to leave. Standing before Tommy and Maria, she didn’t know what to say. If Joel was her boyfriend, she would apologize, but she didn’t even know what was going on enough to say something for Joel, “I really am happy for the two of you. This is something great.”

“Thank you Y/N,” Maria breathed, with a tired smile and now things were starting to make sense why Tommy had invited her earlier instead of allowing Maria to go snowmobiling with them.

“And thank you for being so kind to me tonight,” she spoke quietly, pointing toward the door that Joel had obviously already stepped out of because she could no longer see him. “I’m very thankful that you took me today and that you have been so nice about my past. A lot of people would have felt uncomfortable, but you two have been amazing to me. So thank you for not judging me and for being understanding.”

“As we all told you earlier, none of what happened was your fault Y/N,” Tommy stood up from the table and moved around to give her a quick hug. Suddenly it all made sense to her why Tommy had that nervous energy. Why he was drinking and why he was doing his best to make tonight a positive one. Squeezing her in his arms, Tommy sighed loudly and nodded toward the door. “Have a good night’s rest.”

Right now it felt like she should have said something more, but she didn’t. Leaving, she was embarrassed and she didn’t understand why. She hardly knew these people, but something felt wrong. A few feet away from the door Joel was standing outside quietly waiting for her. The streets were empty and it had started snowing pretty heavily while they were inside the bar.

“It’s snowing,” she pointed up toward the sky with Joel lazily lifting his head up. Nodding his head about, Joel shifted on his feet and sighed loudly. “A lot.”

“Yeah, that usually happens at night here around Christmas,” Joel commented, visibly not in the mood to really small talk with her. Walking side by side with Joel back to the inn, she felt like this wasn’t at all the man that she had been with all day.

“Listen, I know it’s none of my business,” she took a while to gain the strength to say anything at all since she didn’t know how to take what just happened.

“You’re right. It’s none of your business,” Joel stressed to her, looking to her with a firm expression. It had her throat going dry with her realizing that she was stepping out of line with her thinking that she could have any say in what was going on with his family. “You’re not part of my family, so you really don’t have to say anything at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” she agreed with him knowing that was his way of telling her that he didn’t want to hear whatever she was going to try to say to him. Instead of focusing on that moment, she reached out to brush some of his hair behind his ear but he was eager to pull his head back and away from her. “Sorry.”

Another round of silence surrounded them and she hated the way that this felt, “So do you at all miss the no snow down in Texas. I imagine that coming from a place like Texas to coming here is a big change. It’s hard for me with coming from New York. So a Texas guy? That had to be rough.”

“It snowed sometimes in Texas. I think it averaged like an inch of snow a year, but it still snowed,” Joel seemed short with his answer still not bothering to look over at her while he spoke about his home state.

“How much does it average here?” she questioned with Joel’s eyebrows bouncing up. Looking to her for a moment, Joel shrugged and cleared his throat.

“In the four hundreds, closer to the five,” Joel alerted her getting to laugh at how much the difference was between the two. Having her laughing about it provoked him to smirk and shake his head. “So yeah. Sometimes I miss the lack of snow. Especially since I walk in this shit all the time.”

“I can imagine,” she admitted, moving in closer to Joel while they walked together. Sliding her fingers down the length of his arm, she gently hooked her fingers with his. At first, he didn’t return the gesture. But when she went to pull them away, she could feel them hooking loosely with hers. “Thank you again for today by the way.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Joel didn’t seem to understand with his jaw flexing in discomfort. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did. You let me come with you and your brother on that adventure which was really cool. You saved me when I crashed,” she listed off the things that he had done for her, her fingers grasping firmer to his. “And then when I told you about my past, you were very kind to me. You didn’t run away like some people might have.”

“Yeah,” Joel didn’t say much, just kept looking ahead toward the inn on their walk. Truthfully, she wished he would have said something more since that was a big moment for her. She didn’t usually tell people about her past, so the fact he blew it off that easily hurt a small bit. Then again, he did just react very poorly to hearing that his brother was going to be a father. When they got to the inn, he released her hand and stepped away from her. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he looked toward the door. “Have a good night.”

“Hey,” she called out to him when Joel started to walk away. Stopping in his tracks, Joel turned to face her with her pointing up toward the holly that was hanging over her head. Looking up, Joel felt his throat going dry looking at it. “Can we pretend that tonight this holly is still mistletoe and we can share another kiss?”

Thinking about the offer, Joel stepped forward toward her having a small amount of excitement flood her veins. Meeting Joel under the holly, she reached up to brace her hands in over Joel’s chest with him staring down at her. Tipping up on her toes, she expected Joel’s lips to collide with hers, but instead when she went to kiss him, he turned his head and had her kiss him on the cheek.

Stepping back and away from her, Joel’s breathing was louder and he looked upset. Standing there in silence, she felt her throat tightening up. How was she supposed to respond to something like that?

“So,” she spoke quietly since he had just denied her kiss so blatantly. “Do you want to come up to the room again? It doesn’t have to be anything naughty.” Realizing that might have been something that Joel would have preferred, she shrugged her shoulders and got him to look at her again. “Unless you want it to be.”

Joel scoffed, muttering something under his breath that was barely audible. Everything felt like it was spinning around her and she knew that she was desperate to still spend time with him, “We can just spend some time watching classic Christmas movies together? Get a blanket, sit on the couch together and watch television. Maybe after we can cuddle again. Truthfully last night was the best sleep I’ve had in years. Being in your arms…”

“What happened last night was a mistake,” Joel interrupted her with venom in his tone having her words come to a quick stop. There was more color beyond what was there from the coldness of the air surrounding them flooding into her face. “You don’t even know me. We’re strangers and what happened shouldn’t have happened.”

“A mistake?” she reiterated surprised to hear him say that after everything. With how hopeful he was this morning meeting her at the bottom of the stairs, she didn’t think he would change his mind this fast. “I don’t know, I thought today was really nice.”

“I’m just incredibly fucking horny and you’re the first person to throw yourself at me,” Joel acknowledged with a disappointed breath, looking down at the ground in frustration. Kicking his foot at the ground, Joel started sounding like the man she had talked to the first night. “I haven’t had sex in so very long that I confused my want to come as something more with you.”

“I just…” she began again, but he held his hands up to stop her before she could say anything more. “Joel?”

“I’m not the thing that is going to save you Y/N,” Joel declared, the lines in his forehead growing and the Joel that she had first met was now a spitting image of the man before her. The man that had opened up to her and showed her a different kind of man was gone. Instead he looked angry and frustrated with her. “I know you came here looking for something to give your life meaning and you think that somehow I’m that. But? I’m not!”

Hearing that left her with an ache that surprised her since Joel was using her words that she had said earlier to him and the other two against her, “That’s what you took from what I said earlier?”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Joel moved in closer to her, his head tipping to the side searching for some kind of answer from her. When she didn’t answer him, he nodded his head about. “I’m a man that just met you. And I didn’t even like you at first Y/N. Thirty-six hours ago I couldn’t stand you. And suddenly you are looking at me like we have something important going on here. You are just some random girl that came to my town because she was miserable and ended up getting a room at my inn. You aren’t important to me, do you understand that?”

Biting down on her bottom lip, she nodded her head knowing whatever happened between Tommy and Joel back there had to be big for him to severely erupt on her like this, “I understand.”

“Don’t,” Joel warned her realizing that she looked like she was about to get emotional. “No, you see you’re a random person that I shouldn’t have even met. I have my own responsibilities Y/N. I have a life here and I can’t be responsible for fixing you when I can barely even fix myself. Did you think the two of us were just going to have this amazing romance while you were here? That it would be short lived until you decided to get back on a plane and go home when you felt like it had been a good enough time away from your real life?”

“I don’t know,” she was starting to feel small with the way that Joel was talking down to her.

“I just wanted to fuck you,” Joel asserted, his head shaking when he closed the distance between the two of them. “But not because I liked you, but because I was desperate. We weren’t going to fall in love and have some kind of long-distance romance between us. Because that? That’s unrealistic. Relationships barely work as it is, so a long distance one? That has absolutely zero chance of making it.”

Going silent, she wasn’t even sure what to say at this point with Joel starting to pace, “And another thing Y/N. You are so sure and so insistent that you are good at sex, but if you were really as good as you thought you were, your boyfriend would have never dumped you honey. I promise you that.”

“Ouch,” she chuckled at the personal attack he gave her and she nodded her head slowly. “I guess you’ll never know.”

“I could be wrong,” Joel pointed toward his chest, shaking his head about as he stood before her. “But I highly doubt that. Because most men will put up with a lot in order to get laid. Especially if the sex is as good as you say it is. Then again, there is that chance he just got sick of you being so overbearing. Which I could easily see.”

“And now we’re back to the personal attacks,” she exhaled loudly noticing that the Joel she had experienced over the last twenty-four hours was completely gone and the cold, angry Joel she had first met had fully returned. “It’s sad you’re going back to this Joel. I thought we had a really nice day today.”

“I’m not emotionally capable of being the thing that you need in your life,” Joel claimed, a sense of anger flooding throughout his entire body. “I don’t make people’s lives better Y/N, I poison them. The quicker you learn that? The better things will be.”

There was a broken sound that escaped Joel and it seemed like he was about to get emotional, but he held it back and turned away from her. Stepping forward, she tried to reach out to touch him and comfort him starting to think this was an emotional outburst for something that he needed someone to be there for him for. But once she touched him, he pulled away from her like her touch was fire.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, feeling unexpectedly sad about Joel’s response that he had toward her.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Joel scoffed, heading in the other direction leaving her standing outside of the inn alone.

With Joel so far in the distance, it left her with more questions about everything than having any answers. All she knew? That interaction surprisingly hurt. And it hurt a lot.

----

Tags: @jdmorganz @carolineesnell @ayumi-wolf @dilfsandmartinis @christinamadsen

@brittmb115 @thegirlwiththemostcake3

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller fanfiction #Joel Miller Smut #Pedro Pascal #The Last of Us #The Last of Us fanfiction #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller imagine #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #Christmas in Jackson #Tommy Miller #tlou fanfiction #Maria Miller

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seirindono · 7 months ago

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TMS - Author's note (Arc 1)

Today I'm stepping up to talk about TMS for a while. It's going to be a lot of blah blah, no TLDR, so hang in there or save it for later if you're brave enough, haha (¯▿¯)

So, another chapter of TMS draws to a close, with the difference that this time it's a whole saga that's coming to an end! That's a big relief for me, given that we recently celebrated the comic's 4th anniversary! That's almost the entire duration of my college life, and that's both an impressive and terrifying achievement lol.

The comic is divided into 3 arcs, each separated by an interlude. The first runs from part 1 to 8, with 201 pages total (wow!). In it, you are introduced to Mel, a young skeleton with a rather unclear past, who accidentally arrives in a a foreign timeline, along with other well known skeletons. Nowadays it's just an isekai haha. Throughout the arc, she proves to be a cautious Monster, quiet and somewhat withdrawn compared to the other skeletons we come across, notably Rus, Blue and Axe, who each got their own sequences.

Still, Mel in the last few scenes is starting to show more initiative, and the interlude will make this even more obvious, but we can expect her to open up a lot more during the next Arc, about her past, motives, goals and thoughts.

I could go on at length about what's in store for us in the interlude, but given that it's due for release sometime in 2024, I'm going to talk about the general story line instead. Although we follow Mel who is foreign to what's going on in this universe prior to her arrival, the other characters and events suggest that strange phenomena are taking place in Ebott, leading many people to become embroiled in a highly unusual affair. Crossing timelines, earthquakes, mysterious apparitions in the forest, something is afoot and the situation seems to be at a turning point when Mellow gets here.

Everyone has their own way of dealing with the situation and what to do next. Some are serious and pragmatic, like Black, others optimistic, like Blue, and others, like Papyrus, find themselves completely backed into a corner, forced to do their best to fix whatever needs to be.

A special case, however, is Axe, whom Mel meets in the forest as she investigates Mt. Ebott. The two have diametrically opposed views of their current condition. One wants to return to her world by any means necessary, regardless of the advantages of a peaceful world. The other, not so much. Both refuse to talk about their past and ignore the other's circumstances, but a sense of familiarity drives them to try to convince the other to stay or go. These are two stark positions to reconcile, and while we can expect Blue and the other skeletons to have their own views on the subject too, Mel and Axe are strangely "committed" in this interraction and resort to violence, spurred on by a unknown substance that causes Axe to momentarily lose control.

Mel is wounded, Axe unconscious, and the status quo disrupted. Other consequences follow this confrontation, and several questions are raised: Can Blue really help Mel when Axe accuses him of having already given up on going home himself? What is this mysterious entity Axe came across a few days earlier? The vibrations? What was that substance that made him go berserk? And what made him stop? Can we trust Mel and what she tells us? And many others.

Because as I'm sure many of you have come to realize, Mel has proven to be a rather unreliable narrator (or at least character since you don't follow her actual POV). Blatantly lying or omitting facts to others and readers alike, it's hard to know her next move and whether she's genuinely forgotten important infos (for it's well established at this stage that she has hazy memories and that they continue to deteriorate. The same applies to her health).

In the same way, each part of TMS so far has raised more questions than it has answered, but I can confidently say that the road is paved for Arc 2 to answer and put in perspective most of them, ahah.

Ah, this is also the moment when I can announce that ALL skeletons will be featured in the Interlude. Should be. Hopefully.

I'd also like to point out a few narrative changes for Act 2! The central characters, in particular. Original cast characters such as Undyne, Metatton and a veiled character will be more formally introduced, but we'll also meet up with characters we've already bumped into, but in a much more concrete way, such as Frisk and Alphys. I can't wait for you to get to know them! You can also expect more pov changes, more elipses and so on. Things are moving fast.

But that begs the question. When is it due? As said before, the first Arc lasted 4 years and I'm entering my last (and most crucial) year of college. I still don't know if I'll have time to get much of it done in 2025, but on the other hand, I'd like to strike while the iron's hot lest TMS be discontinued after a 1-year hiatus and my entry into the working world. Student loan, life and all. There are still plenty of things I'd like to bring to this project, and I now have the skills to actually carry them out, but on the other hand, the time involved has also increased exponentially.

Tbh with you, as an animation student, it's been one of my dreams since 2020 to do one of TMS's sequences in animatic or full anim, or even a trailer for the comic! But as a solo team, it's just unreasonable and I know it. But the parasite ----. Don't get me wrong, I could, but it would take me months and it's just not realistic when 80% of my time has to go into professionnal work that goes into my portefolio or adult stuff. I can't affort to invest time in solo-ing it or to recruit and lead a team over one side project of mine ( ´ ▿ ` ) So we'll most likely stick to classic pages.

But the same goes for collabs, community events, side stories, asks, edits, dubs, testing other platforms, regular animatics. Love all of that. Really. But I never have the time to because, man, I'd love to actually finish TMS someday ahah. It all comes back to the age-old problem of “lots of ideas, little time”, and it's so frustrating but, it's a choice I have to stick to, so bear with me as I vent my frustration. Just for tonight (´ ∀ `, *)

So, yes. Act 2. Next year? Probably? It's a long interlude, so you'll get smth in the meantime, but it's likely to decide the future of TMS and whether Act 2 sees the light of day as I imagine it or if...well, something else replaces it.

bringing back this doodle cuz it seems fiting lol

Anyway, I also wanted to thank you for your engagement with Part 8!

I don't know how other comic artists experience it, but for me it's a very isolated work, and as much as I love working alone, I enjoy the interaction with readers most of all.

Seeing people losing their mind over a serious scene, or chuckling at a dumb gag, or just simping over the characters and art. It's just great, and very rewarding. Likewise, I have a blast answering questions about the TMS universe, reading tags and receiving memes, witnessing people go increasingly mad with messages full of indecipherable screams and hearts. Makes me giggle and kick my feet everytime and I can't wait to drop the next lore bomb or funny scene bwahahah

And while we're on the subject, I'd like to say a special word of thanks to the legions of rebloggers who make it their business to spread the word about TMS. You sweet, lovely, candy scented folks. And to my dear mutuals - with whom I interact objectively so little - who have no idea how a single message or note from them drives me bonkers. Thanks for dropping by. And of course to my super Patreons who support me despite the sparse updates, but to whom I'm more than grateful. Love you all.

Sounds like a farewell message. It's not lol. Just making sure they get the love they deserve.

The post is getting long and I'm kind of done pretending I know how to write organized notes so to wrap things up, here's an exhaustive list of what I'd like to get done this year and/or discuss in more detail another day. •Make a new masterpost (for Act 2) •Analyze/Comment certain sequences from Act 1 to clarify or give context •Redraw and rewrite part 1 and 2 •Make more bonus content again *ahahahahahaha*

•Re open or close the Discord (partially abandoned and it's all on me, but I'm still mulling it over).

•Finish the Interlude and enjoy and nice hiatus

And that's about it? Congratulation for reading this and making it this far! You were there!

Be well, and see you next time.

Seirin-

First part | Prev | Next (INTERLUDE)

Ko-fi | Patreon | Comic | Commissions | To support the comic

#txt #seirin talks #the missing scarf #author's note #lots of rambling but that's what those are for aren't they #a day to celebrate wo~hooo #this is a save point if you're reading the comics - take a break

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victimsofyaoipoll · 1 year ago

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Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

#poll #finals #sakura haruno #naruto #misa amane #misa misa #death note

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 3 months ago

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On Galadriel’s Whitewashing by the Fandom

Allow me to rant. Because at this point I really have to ask this: what show have you all been watching? Many say that Sauron deceives the audience, but it was actually Galadriel who deceived you all, really.

In Season 1 and Season 2, we saw Galadriel using others left and right, for her own ends (including Halbrand, Míriel, Adar, etc.). Her character introduction in Season 1, was her beating the sh*t out of some kids over a paper boat. Then, we saw her treating her companions’ lives as if they meant nothing to her. This alone should tell you something, but no, you wanted to see the “feminist hero” that never was. She was acting like... Sauron, when he ditched the humans on the raft.

Nah, you think?

Throughout Season 1, she was arrogant, high on herself and downright offensive to pretty much every character she came across. She was constantly acting as if she was better than everyone else, and others were beneath her, because of her delusions of grandeur. She disobeys Gil-galad over and over again because she doesn’t truly recognize his authority. He’s younger than her, and in her mind she’s the one who should be High Queen of the Noldor, because she’s the only surviving child of High King Finarfin. She lied and manipulated others to her own ends... like Sauron.

When your ways of manipulation are more radical than Sauron’s.

Allow me to say this once more: “Rings of Power” has Tolkien experts to assist with the writings of the scripts. Christian doctrine and preaching is a huge deal on Tolkien’s work, and even if the show producers don’t see it or don’t recognize it, it’s still there because it’s inevitable, you can't work Tolkien without it.

What does this mean? Galadriel is not a hero. Pride and greed are not good traits in Tolkien lore. She’s not one of the “good guys”. Not yet, and she’ll only get worse before she gets better. She’s not a villain, either; she’s an anti-hero like Adar. Why do you all think Satan’s little helper Sauron got so interested in her, in the first place?

When Sauron of all characters gives you the side-eye and tells you to chill and tone down your antagonistic behavior.

And was she deceived by Sauron or did she deceive herself? Because Elrond, as usual, is right, and that’s why he calls her out on her bullsh*t in Season 2: Galadriel wanted the lost king who could ride her to victory, to destroy Sauron and cover herself in glory, being worshipped by everyone on Middle-earth as its savior. She wanted to use Halbrand as a pawn in her big plan, and it’s mind blowing she actually fell in love with him. Does this ring any bells? It’s because it’s Sauron’s plan, too. They are alike. Everyone agrees, but doesn’t realize just how much.

You think they showed us these glorious shots of them for “good” reasons? This is the first of Mairon’s deceptions on Season 1, another step closer to evil and his old ways. This is them high on power and on themselves.

Gil-galad foresaw that Galadriel would bring back Sauron if her pursuit for him would to continue. That’s why he sent her back to Valinor, in the first place. Guess what? He was right. It was Galadriel’s actions that condemned Middle-earth to Sauron’s tyranny. In the legendarium, the Elves are also the ones to blame. And what consequences did she faced for this? Enduring Elrond in charge for two episodes until she went rogue? Or perhaps the Valar have already banished her, and the show failed to mention this.

Preach it, brother!

Elrond was also the only character who could see through Sauron’s “rings of power” masterplan (must be that Melian’s Maia blood kicking in), until he was deceived himself, as well, and now he also thinks the rings are a good thing. Because these rings allowed the Elves to “cheat death” and stay where they don’t belong. “Rings of Power” made this point very clear in Season 1: the Southlanders don’t want the Elves on their lands, they are invaders.

In truth, all of these characters are not only Sauron’s accomplices, but are feeding off his power, but they are acting as if they are the “good guys” here, and they need to save Middle-earth from the new Dark Lord. No wonder the Valar told them to f*ck off, and only sent a few helpers who didn’t even dealt with Sauron directly, even though they (being Maiar themselves) had the power to do that.

Long story, short: for the love of Eru, stop whitewashing Galadriel’s character, or believing her to be some sort of “Virgin Mary” nonsense type of character. Or if you actually think her behavior is somehow heroic I don’t even know what to tell you, honestly. Because it’s not suppose to be. And if you were upset with her “toning down” in Season 2, oh boy, I might have bad news for you.

We should appreciate Galadriel’s character for what it is; an anti-hero seeking redemption. She f*cks up a lot, is flawed, and makes huge mistakes, and that’s what will make her character arc feel earned and compelling. In that way, she’s the opposite of Sauron; as he falls into evil, she raises up to good; the Lady of Light and the Dark Lord. This is actually refreshing in the midst of so many boring-ass one-dimensional female characters we see nowadays, an ideal of perfection no one can relate to.

#saurondriel #haladriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #galadriel x halbrand #rop galadriel #galadriel rop

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resart · 8 months ago

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The Inconspicuous Writing Gem: Daeran’s Look-alike Contest Breakdown

The Dance of Masks brought the long-anticipated last hurrah to the Knight Commander’s story. Although it was announced that the DLC would focus on the companions, I wasn’t holding my breath for substantial content that would actually enrich the characters’ plots. The game is already massive and has a ton of variables, so expecting the writers to continue storylines that can have multiple outcomes would be unreasonable. But one scene far exceeded my expectations and set the bar high for the rest of the expansion, rendering me more critical about some of its elements than I would normally be. The event in question may not appear as much, but the true artistry in writing stories driven by the player’s choice fully reveals itself in what we don’t see on the surface. Daeran’s look-alike contest varies greatly, depending on how his personal quest was resolved, and, therefore, serves as a semi-epilogue to his arc. I wanted to post an analysis of his character’s progression for quite some time, and this send-off is a fitting opportunity to delve into this matter. I’ll break down the differences in the new scene as well as in a few others and share my overall thoughts on what this addition brings to the table. Brace yourself because it’s going to be long.

I'll start with a quick reminder of what Daeran’s questline outcomes are, because I'm going to reference them a lot:

Good, in which he’s openly grateful to the Knight Commander despite having to face the tribunal, and Liotr, noticing their bond, intervenes so the Inquisition doesn't lock him up;

Lobotomy, in which Daeran reluctantly accepts his predicament of having to face the trial, Liotr doesn't support him and after the crusade, the Count is sent to the asylum and lobotomized;

HappyEvil, in which the Commander kills Liotr to secure Daeran’s freedom;

ArchEvil, in which Daeran doesn't have any trust in the Commander, feels deserted and murders Liotr to avoid the trial.

At first glance, there's nothing profound about Daeran’s festival quest — it fits his image to indulge in the vain act of self-celebration by choosing the most accurate imitation of himself. However, this simple setup proves itself clever when we realize that, by observing the contestants, he sees himself in a distorting mirror. Coincidentally, each participant appears to represent a different facet of the Count’s character. Therefore, his reactions to them speak volumes of the self-image and mindset he developed during the crusade in each scenario.

Among the doubles, we have an aasimar who mimics Daeran's arrogance and cruelty, and constantly interrupts other participants' speeches with mocking remarks.

A woman who recreates Daeran's sophisticated bon vivant persona.

A drunkard who paints Daeran as a worthless and utterly unapologetic rake.

And finally, an innocent boy who keeps staring at Daeran with admiration and portrays him as a virtuous hero of the crusade.

After the presentation of the contestants is over, Daeran asks the Commander’s opinion. Again, his responses to their verdict vary in each case (unless they choose the cat), but the difference in how he reacts to being compared to the little boy is the most telling.

No matter what the protagonist suggests, the winner of the contest is fixed for each of the outcomes. If the Commander failed to earn Daeran's trust and he murdered Liotr himself, the conceited aasimar is declared the winner.

If the Commander killed Liotr, the Count awards the lady.

If the quest was resolved peacefully (either Good or Lobotomy), Daeran chooses the boy and has a heartwarming exchange with him.

This variety of possible scenarios and the way they are handled encapsulate why I consider Daeran's story so intricately woven and enjoyable to analyze. He's an incredibly flexible and dynamic character whose potential endings range from becoming a saint to a homicidal maniac. But what makes this duality and everything that comes in between so engaging is that all these vastly contradictory conclusions are equally organic and convincing, given his rich characterization and the player’s choices. The subtle yet significant divergences in the narrative paths maintain the integrity of his personality and prevent his evolution from seeming far-fetched while efficiently showcasing his growth or regression.

Regretfully, this attention to detail is missing from the other new scenes, which don't convey a similar sense of progression and can come off as somewhat disconnected from the rest of the playthrough. The rendezvous, for example, avoids references to how the player concluded Daeran's romance and quest. Given these plotlines' non-linearity, it's an understandable approach, but it prevents the scene from exploring deeper themes and hitting more emotional notes. What's particularly detrimental to the its overall intensity is the absence of exclusive dialogue for the True Love outcome. Ironically, it's the two worst endings that get unique and surprisingly heartfelt lines.

The difference is insignificant, however, because the conversation always plays out the same. All in all, the segment is nice and leaves a lot to the imagination, but only partially exploits its potential. Meanwhile, the festival mini-quest embraces the aforementioned strengths of the storyline's writing, giving every iteration of Daeran distinct dialogues that clearly demonstrate the impact the crusade and acquaintance with the Commander had on him.

I won't examine every dialogue branch in detail but will mainly focus on the Good scenario. As someone who likes this ending the best and even advocates the controversial writing in the final confrontation with Liotr, I always thought the narrative failed to properly sell its implied benefits. Apart from the closing conversation in the quest itself, late-game provides little reactivity to differentiate the outcomes, making it hard for the players to fully grasp the internal shift that Daeran undergoes. Comparison of said dialogue in various scenarios reveals his perspective in Good route as the least egocentric and overall most mature. Unfortunately, in an individual playthrough, these qualities can get overshadowed by the Count's dissatisfaction with the inconveniences he will eventually have to endure.

Aside from that, the effects of each resolution manifest only in Daeran's responses to one question in the romantic route and how he expressed his feelings regarding Galfrey’s death.

Even though they show evident contrast and serve as a much-needed emotional pay-off for the moral dilemma the player faced in the storyline finale, both are relatively minor, with the Queen one completely missable in most playthroughs. When combined with the similar omission of negative repercussions for Daeran’s moral condition and emotional maturity in other outcomes, it's not surprising many players believe he doesn’t ever change or that becoming better fundamentally clashes with his nature.

The discussed competition scene remedies the narrative’s deficiencies, ultimately proving this statement untrue. In the Good outcome, Daeran presents a reasonable dose of self-distance. When confronted with the drunk’s insults, he replies with humor and courtesy, which is a stark contrast to his reactions in the Evil outcomes and his past responses to criticism. Despite being hurt by the harsh judgment, he understands such a low opinion of himself is somewhat justified. The Count's mild response and his sensitivity to the suggestion that he's nothing more than an unfeeling scoundrel may even indicate that he has developed some remorse for his past actions. He also dismisses unwarranted flattery and distances himself from the brash egotism. All without falling into a spiral of gloom and self-deprecation that occurs in the Lobotomy scenario. Introspectiveness and vulnerability showcased here are a seamless continuation of the self-evaluation Daeran does in the High Trust version of his quest upon being supposedly betrayed by the Commander.

It's all the more unfortunate that the other interactions in the DLC don’t acknowledge these differences and instead return to the common denominator of all endings. As a result, the player will go from Daeran, who self-reflects and claims the aasimar presents an unfunny caricature of him, to Daeran in the tavern, who puffs himself up exactly like the guy (using even the same words) and seeks more sycophantic praise. While it's expected for him to put on an airy act and tease others, the absolute lack of self-awareness he previously exhibits in the Good route is quite jarring. Considering the complexity of the storyline as well as all sorts of limitations, such inconsistencies are inevitable (the base game already has a fair share of them) and in the end, one can easily reconcile them through their own interpretations. However, after being spoiled by a reactivity treat like the festival mini-quest, it's disappointing that the remaining dialogues lack similar nuance.

In the Good scenario, Daeran's behavior reinforces what we learn in the epilogue — that in this version, he has the most difficulty navigating through his newfound freedom and redefining himself in it. Choosing the winner of a silly contest shouldn't be hard for him, and it isn't in the Evil outcomes. There, the self-satisfied Count (who in both cases already has the blood of at least one innocent man on his hands) picks what he perceives as an idealized version of himself — be it the aestheticized depiction of his self-centredness or the unbridled and unyielding haughtiness. Noteworthily, in the Happy variant, Daeran openly flirts with the lady and, in both Evil paths, if not romanced, attempts to seduce his favored contestant. It’s peak narcissism, given the implications of the scene. In the peaceful outcomes, especially the Good one, the ordeal is a series of unpleasant self-reflections that even causes him to become overwhelmed by sorrow at one point. In the end, Daeran’s choice stems not from an ulterior motive or a desire to boost his ego but from genuine fondness for the boy. The youngster's belief in the Count’s kindness and heroism reminds him of his own innocence that was prematurely and brutally snatched from him. At his core, Daeran is not a self-sufficient master of his own fate but a helpless child thrown by unfortunate circumstances into otherworldly oppression and a vicious cycle of selfishness. In the Evil routes, he successfully deludes himself into believing he’s the former, but here, he realizes he’s the latter.

We're used to seeing Daeran scoffing at saccharine narratives and lofty ideals, and in the Evil versions, he's indeed annoyed with the boy’s portrayal of him. In one of them, he even anticipates him to be disenchanted, finding the prospect amusing. In the campaign's early stages, the Count voices his dissatisfaction with being enrolled in the crusade and laments the tarnishing of his ill reputation. Any suggestions that he may be secretly vulnerable are met with biting retorts. But now, Daeran doesn't disabuse the child and isn’t even bothered by being seen as a heroic figure. There also isn’t any objection when the Commander points out the similarity between him and the boy. He’s shocked they can see through him but decides to be honest and agrees with their assessment. Daeran’s sensitivity and his tendency to be more emotionally transparent with the protagonist is, at this point, a recurring theme in the peaceful outcomes, so it’s a shame that when they later choose to compliment his vulnerable soul, he's always equally dismissive.

Daeran is perfectly aware of how damaging cruel disillusionment can be to one’s psyche. As a child, he witnessed firsthand the powerlessness of good in the face of evil, the suffering adhering to moral principles can bring, and how those who claim to be righteous can turn out to be as callous and uncaring as hardened villains. These experiences left the young Count with a pessimistic view of the world and human nature, making him adopt coping mechanisms that only deepened his melancholy and loneliness. Knowing this, he wishes to spare the boy a similar fate and plays along to preserve his innocence.

In the non-peaceful outcomes, Daeran gives the signet away as if it was an insignificant bauble. But even though we barely ever see this side of him, some dialogues indicate he’s proud of his heritage and his ancestors' role in Mendev’s history. They were valiant defenders of the kingdom, who, for generations, protected its borders from any threat. This is who the Count, as a scion of the Arendae house, was originally destined to be and who, it so happens, the boy sees in him. Perhaps his take on him makes Daeran reflect on how differently things could have turned out had it not been for his family's demise and the Other’s interference. It undoubtedly revokes memories of his roots and deceased kin, since he not only rewards the child with the ring but also educates him on its meaning and sentimental value, expressing unexpected sincerity and kindness. In the Lobotomy scenario, this gesture is particularly bittersweet — with his impeding childless death, Daeran’s lineage is going to expire, making the memento the only way to keep its memory alive.

Finally, the Good version of the scene carries a deep symbolic significance. Daeran rewards one person who doesn't focus on his superficial traits or recreates the mask he hides behind. The image the boy paints of him may not be accurate, but while the other portrayals embody what the Count turned into under the Other's influence, this one shows what he could have been if he hadn’t lost the childish naivety he now longs for. And who he, despite his own skepticism, still can or perhaps even already started to become, thanks to the good protagonist's compassion and support. Just like the Commander, the boy views him as someone better than what his predicament forced him to be. And Daeran, confronted with sincere faith in him, cannot help but answer the call.

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pathfinder wotr #pwotr #wotr #wrath of the righteous #owlcat games #daeran arendae #daeran #Дейран #my analysis

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scary-grace · 4 days ago

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#3 for roommates to lovers!! :D

Hi! Thank you so much for this prompt! As I alluded to, I went through two other versions of this fic before settling on this one, so if this ends up not being your speed, that's okay -- let me know and I'll post one of the others.

Prompt: “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” No quirks AU, female reader, Shigaraki and the reader are roommates, approximately 3k. ANGST. But with a happy ending.

CASUAL

You hear the key in the lock on the front door and try to scramble up off the couch, at which point the four shots of vodka you’ve taken announce their presence. The first thing to go is your balance, and you bump into the coffee table before tipping backwards onto the couch again. The next is your dignity, when you realize that your roommate and his Valentine’s Day date are about to walk in and see you, on the couch in your pajamas and totally trashed. The third is your control over your emotions. Your face heats up and your throat goes tight and your eyes start to sting, and that’s all before Tomura even opens the door.

Tomura snagged himself a date for Valentine’s Day. A really hot date, Spinner took pains to tell you, like it was something for you to be excited about. Some cosplayer whose DMs he slid into, who dresses up as the slutty version of all his favorite video game characters, who flirts with guys and girls alike but never seems to settle down. Tomura’s friends are all amazed that he was able to pull it off, but you aren’t. You’ve been roommates with Tomura long enough to know that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

And you know he’s got some degree of game. You’d have to, since it worked pretty well on you.

Or maybe your game, as weird and offbeat as it is, worked pretty well on him. However it happened, you’ve been fucking him for the last six months. It started as hooking up to blow off steam, because neither of you had been on a date in forever and you were both too lazy or bad at dating apps to find a booty call. Just a roommates-with-benefits thing. A little recreation. Casual.

You’re not sure where it went off the rails, but over the past six months, you’ve slid from not hanging out except when you’re fucking to hanging out all the time, from bitching about your friends and their love lives to trading loaded glances when it comes up, from texting each other hey you up from your rooms to sleeping in the same bed. It started out as casual, but it’s not casual anymore. At least not to you. You were trying to think of how to raise the subject with Tomura, and thinking maybe of doing it tonight, until he announced out of nowhere that he’s got this date.

You didn’t find out until a couple days ago, and since then you’ve been seething, or at least you tell yourself that the throbbing ache in your chest is seething instead of heartbreak. You’ve played it cool around Tomura, razzing him over the restaurant he picked, offering to let him borrow your hair products if he wants to do something special with it – except then he took you up on it, the bastard, and he left for his date smelling like your leave-in conditioner. Part of you is pleased by that, by the thought that his date might catch the scent and wonder if she really is the only one he’s into. The rest of you thinks about her getting close enough to smell his hair and decides to throw up about it.

You lock your jaw and swallow hard. As terrible as this is going to be, the only thing worse than them walking in on you in the midst of a single-woman cringefest is if they walk in on you throwing up. What’s taking them so long to walk in on you, anyway? Tomura’s still trying to unlock the fucking door. You picture his date pressed back against the door, the two of them unwilling to stop kissing long enough to get into the apartment, and a surge of disgust and anger and hurt hits you harder than the vodka did. Fuck this. You’ve had enough.

This time you’re more careful as you get off the couch, and you’re steady enough on your feet as you cross the room to the front door. Deadbolt off, latch turned, two seconds to brace yourself, and you wrench open the door. You’re expecting the two of them to fall over onto you, so wrapped up in each other that they barely notice the shift from vertical to horizontal. But you don’t see any cosplayer in the hallway, or smell anyone’s perfume. The only person there is Tomura, still dressed for his date, trying to unlock the door with the wrong key.

The two of you look at each other for a moment. You can’t speak for him, but your mind’s gone totally blank. Except for one thing. “That’s the laundry-room key. Not the apartment key.”

Tomura keeps staring at you for another few seconds, then looks down at the key like he’s never seen it before. “They look the same.”

“Yeah. And you’ve lived her for two years. When are you going to suck it up and label them?” Your frustration is starting to spill over, and it gets worse with every second Tomura spends looking at you. Why is he looking at you like that? Like he’s hurt – like you’re being mean to him for no reason, when you’re not even being that mean. You could be meaner. He’s the one who went out and got a hot date without even telling you, when – “Wait, what time is it?”

Tomura glances at his watch, then holds it out to show you. Seven-thirty. Huh. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah.” Tomura takes off his watch and drops it into his coat pocket. “Are you going to let me in or what?”

You stand aside, the wheels turning in your head with painful slowness. Tomura’s date was supposed to start at six. He’s back at seven-thirty. He’s back alone. That’s not what happens with a Valentine’s Day date where things go according to plan, and everything about the way Tomura’s acting right now says that things went off the rails. The last three days, you’ve been proceeding under the assumption that Tomura’s Valentine’s Day would be fuck-on-the-first-date good. It never crossed your mind that it might go badly.

“Are you going to close the door or just stand there like that all night?” Tomura sounds tired, but there’s an edge to his voice. “I guess I don’t have to ask what you’ve been doing. You can’t hold your liquor for shit.”

“And I guess since you’re back already, I don’t have to ask about how your date went,” you return fire without thinking. You shut the door, maybe harder than you meant to, and turn to face Tomura with your arms crossed over your chest, doing everything in your power not to cry. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Do you care?” Tomura picks up the vodka bottle, uncaps it, and takes a long sip. “I don’t think you give a shit.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” you snap on autopilot, but the longer you think about it, the more confused you get. “What have I ever done to make you think I don’t care about you?”

Tomura doesn’t answer. He’s too busy drinking half your vodka in a single swallow, unnerving you even more. “Hey. Stop. Whatever happened on your date, it’s not worth a hangover. I’ll help you, but –”

“Don’t worry about that. You’re off the hook.”

“What?” You’ve always helped Tomura with hangovers, way before you started sleeping together. His body reacts to alcohol like it’s actual poison, and there’s no point since you met him that you’ve ignored him when he needs help. “I’m not on the hook, Tomura. I do that stuff because I want to.”

“So stop wanting to,” Tomura says, but at least he puts the bottle down. “It shouldn’t be that hard for you. You’re good at not doing things you don’t want.”

“What are you talking about?” You can’t wrap your head around it. Tomura’s pissed at you. He’s the one who went on the date. Even if it didn’t go well, he still went on the date, so where does he get off being mad at you? “If you’re going to do this, say what you mean. It’ll be a lot faster, and after what you put me through –”

“What I put you through?” Tomura’s laughter goes jagged. “What do you tell your friends about me?”

“Nothing –”

“Right. Because it’s casual,” Tomura sneers. You’d believe it a lot more if you didn’t see his shoulders go tense, see the tendons in his neck stand out, hear the catch in his breathing. “Because I’m just some loser who’s still hanging around.”

“Because I don’t want to hear them tell me it’s a bad idea!” Your voice pitches upwards, fraying at the edges in a way you hate. “I don’t want to let them take something that makes me happy and ruin it. But maybe I should have, because I hate that I let this drag on so long, and if they’d told me it was a bad idea and I’d listened, then I wouldn’t be –”

“If it’s such a bad idea, then –”

All at once you’re fed up with this. Tired of pretending it’s fine. Tired of listening to him tear into you over something that isn’t even close to true. “I wouldn’t be losing my shit because you went out with someone else on fucking Valentine’s Day!”

Tomura blinks. “What?”

“You heard me.” You can’t look at him right now. You slump back against the door, your arms crossed over your chest, eyes averted. “Don’t come after me when you’re the one being casual. I’m not the one who went out and got a hot date.”

“That’s what you’re mad about?” Tomura demands. You nod, your eyes stinging. “Were you ever going to say that?”

“And out myself as the one who caught feelings? Are you joking?”

“No!” Tomura explodes. You look at him and find him scratching at his neck, hard. “That’s what I wanted you to do!”

It’s your turn to stare blankly, and Tomura’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. He spins away from you, still scratching. “I haven’t slept in my own bed in a month and a half. I can’t fall asleep without you anymore. You make tea for me if you’re the one who wakes up first and I kiss you goodbye if I leave before you do and even the stuff I hate doing is fun if you’re doing it with me. Except it feels like that because I’m in love with you. And you’re only doing it to blow off steam.”

The stinging in your eyes hits fever pitch. You blink and tears slip down your cheeks. “Tomura –”

“I thought if I told you I had a date, you’d say something. So I’d know one way or the other.” Tomura’s scratching slows, from frantic scrabbles to hard digs. “But you acted like you didn’t care at all. So I went on the date and she could tell I wasn’t into it and she gave me a hard time for leading her on –”

You hated his date on principle up until a few seconds ago. Now you’re actually starting to feel bad for her. Being on the other end of Tomura’s disinterest feels awful. “If you liked me, why didn’t you just say it?”

“I didn’t want to out myself, either.”

You both caught feelings. Neither of you wanted to admit it, but now you both have, which would be really nice except for how you got here. “So we’ve been yelling at each other over nothing.”

“I guess.” Tomura’s hand slows still further, the scratches lightening again. “Now what?”

“Uh –” You try to think, but you’re coming up sort of empty. “We just ruined our first Valentine’s Day together. Should we have make-up sex or something?”

Tomura snorts. “There’s not anything to make up. We were both stupid and we both hurt each other. We’re even.”

“That’s not exactly a no on the make-up sex.” You lever yourself off the door and cross the room to him, reaching up to pull his hand away from the side of his neck. The first time you ever tried that, he got mad at you, but ever since he’s let you do it. He lets you do it today, and you kiss his hand. “I just want us to feel better. It doesn’t matter how we do it.”

Tomura’s fingers curl and uncurl, like he can’t decide whether he wants to hold on. “I said I love you. Do you love me, or did you just catch feelings?”

You had that one coming, probably. “I love you,” you admit, and his grip on your hand tightens. “I should probably have warned you before we started hooking up, but I’m kind of shit at this casual thing.”

“Same.” Tomura leans back against you ever so slightly and you plant your feet in a hurry. “What movie were you watching?”

“Something dumb. We can watch something else.”

“Yeah. When we get back.”

“When we get back?” you ask. “From where?”

“It’s still Valentine’s Day,” Tomura says. “And you’re my girlfriend, so I should probably take you out.”

You’re his girlfriend. You’ve never had a shorter define-the-relationship talk in your life, and part of you can’t think past what a relief it is. But you and Tomura have never gone out, anywhere – whatever’s going on with you has stayed here in your apartment, barely even referenced when you’re outside of it. And you’re not exactly at your best. “I’m in my pajamas,” you start, only to realize how dumb it sounds. “I can change. It won’t take long, and I’ll be ready to go.”

Tomura’s grip on your hand tightens for a brief second before he lets you go. “Wait here.”

He disappears into his room, and you take the opportunity to cap the bottle of vodka and wipe your eyes. You never really got into it with the crying, and you can feel it lurking somewhere in the background, ready to ambush you when you least expect it. It’s been a hard night. Maybe it’s okay if you cry a little bit. Crying in front of your roommate-with-benefits is one thing. It’s probably okay to cry in front of your boyfriend.

The door to Tomura’s room opens. “Okay,” Tomura says, and your jaw drops at the sight of him. “Now we can go.”

You didn’t think much about what he was doing in there, but you assumed he was changing out of his fancy date clothes into something more casual. But Tomura’s skipped straight over casual. He’s wearing pajama pants and the League of Legends hoodie you got him for his birthday last year, and you can see the hem of a comically oversized t-shirt sticking out beneath it. As you watch in shock, he tucks his keys and his phone into the front pocket of the hoodie and heads for the door. “Are you coming?”

“Um, yes.” You find your own phone and wallet, detouring to your room to grab a sweater. “Tomura –”

“You look good like that,” Tomura says. He looks you up and down in a way that makes you think that make-up sex might not be entirely off the table. “I was just getting on your level. Where do you want to go?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “Let’s figure it out on the way.”

There are other things to figure out on the way, too. Like whose room is going to be your room together, and what you’re going to do with the other one. Like what you’re going to tell your friends, or how Tomura’s going to explain blowing his date with an objectively hot cosplayer so he can go out with you. Like holding hands – which way you like better, and how tight is too tight to hold on, and how fast is it acceptable to grab each other’s hands back after you have to let go.

“This is what got me in trouble,” Tomura says, inspecting your laced fingers as the two of you wait for the train. “Holding hands.”

“How did it get you in trouble?” you ask. “We never really do that at home, except –”

You trail off, your face flushing, and Tomura elaborates. “It was like the third time we hooked up or something. You probably don’t remember.”

You do. It was the fourth time you hooked up, the first time it was spontaneous instead of planned, and you were blowing him on the couch, whichever movie you’d been watching completely forgotten. Tomura was being himself about it, twitching and squirming and making all kinds of pretty sounds that he kept trying to hide, and you glanced sideways at one point and saw his hand, scrabbling desperately at the couch cushions. You had a free hand, so you reached out and held it. You remember being startled at how tightly Tomura held on, surprised at how quickly he stopped trying to be quiet, and when you finally drew back, you were surprised again at how reluctant he was to let you go.

It was weird, but you wrote it off, until the next time you hooked up with him and he went for your hand while he was eating you out. Then it was your turn to hold on too tight.

“I was probably reading into it,” Tomura continues, snapping you out of a set of memories that you’d really rather not be wandering through on a train, “but you doing that – it didn’t seem all that casual to me.”

“Maybe it was never that casual,” you admit. You don’t think you’d have started hooking up with him in the first place if you hadn’t already liked him at least a little bit. “I think I’ll be fine if I never hear the word ‘casual’ again.”

“Casual.”

“Shut up.”

“Casual,” Tomura says again, and you nudge him with your shoulder a little harder than necessary. You’d elbow him, but you’d have to let go of his hand. “We’re going out on Valentine’s Day. Is it casual now?”

He’s joking – mostly. You can tell by the way his grip on your hand tightens, the way his red eyes search your face with a little more urgency than before. “No,” you say, and you kiss him, feeling his lips curve into a smile against yours. “It’s not casual at all.”

#asks #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #man door hand hook car door #a bisquared production

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lionhanie · 7 months ago

Text

moving to busan (kim leehan)

where you move to a new city and fall in love with a boy on the beach

surfer!leehan x gn!reader (non-idol au)

this work is my contribution to @onedoornet 's summer event! ^_^ check it out here!!! ♡

word count: 5.5k

genre + warnings: fluff!!! maybe a tad of angst o_O, written in all lowercase!, mentions of depression + feelings of unbelonging (??), leehan is referred to by his real name (donghyun), ft. side characters taesan and woonhak

a/n: me when i had to watch surfing videos to write this LMAO sorry if its inaccurate…….. i can't even swim! LOLLLL. i def channeled some of my own feelings into this, so it was rlly fun to write. i'd even go as far to say this is my Most Favorite piece yet :,)

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

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you didn’t know what home felt like. which felt odd to say, given that you were extremely fortunate to grow up the way that you did– a roof above your head, food on the dinner table, and a family to share it with. the older you got, the more it felt like you needed to leave. there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with your life; sure, you had your fair share of rough patches here and there, but it was never anything too severe. despite that, you felt suffocated. it was hard to wake up in the same bed you’ve used for lord knows how long, going outside to walk the same paths you’ve walked on thousands of times, all to see the same faces everyday. this was all you knew.

moving to busan was something you never expected yourself to do. the decision was made more on a whim than anything else; immediately upon graduating, you decided to pack your bags and move to a new city, feeling like a stranger wandering alone in the foreign streets. there wasn’t much to pack, anyways. you were committed to truly leaving everything behind and starting fresh, bringing only one suitcase and a backpack for your essentials.

you grew up in a smaller town, about five hours away from where you were now. there, you were used to the quaint homes belonging to the families you'd grown up with. the kind crossing guard by the middle school you used to attend still worked there years after you graduated, now bearing wrinkles by her eyes, but still possessing the same sweet smile she would always give you while helping you cross the street. everything you needed was a quick bike ride away. the area was quiet, comfortable, familiar. and yet, you left.

you’d gotten to a point where you grew sick of the familiarity. to live life in one place forever scared you. it was best described as a fear of being stuck– like a stagnant body of water, peacefully undisturbed but painfully boring, to say the least. a fear of missing out on all the things you could be doing if you just lived somewhere else. anywhere more exciting than the town you knew like the back of your hand. you yearned for something else, something different.

moving to busan meant doing things you never got the chance to do back at home. growing up, you quickly realized that being in a small town meant that you couldn’t do the same things that kids in bigger cities could do. all you had were necessities– a supermarket, doctor’s office, run-of-the-mill shops lining a dirt road in the core of the area. it was enough, sure, but you were hungry for more. on the other hand, busan was full of unique experiences waiting for you. some being as simple as trying new cuisines at restaurants you’d only dreamt of seeing in your hometown, or attending various local festivals held in the area for tourists and residents alike.

it was crazy to think that life could be so different, even a few hours away from your childhood home. to most, giving up everything you once knew is a terrifying thought. to you, it was a wish you made to yourself when you blew out the candles on your birthday cake. you marveled at the way it’s been nearly two months since you first settled in and there’s still an endless list of things you’ve yet to try! it felt more like a dream, than anything. life has never been so bright– especially after years of feeling dull in a town you now dreaded returning to.

moving to busan meant finally meeting new people. it was a breath of fresh air, really. the apartment complex you lived in was on the corner of a busy area, giving you access to a wide range of personalities each time you stepped out the building. you were lucky enough to get a part-time job at a newly opened cafe a couple blocks away, where you quickly became friends with your coworkers: taesan (who didn’t like coffee in the first place) and woonhak (who spent more time talking to the customers than actually making drinks).

you would’ve been content if those were the only two people you managed to befriend in the big city. they were full of life– a never ending source of laughter and stories from their respective hometowns, making your shifts go by significantly faster when you were scheduled together, much to your disappointment.

this is exactly what you had in mind the first time you thought about leaving. it was exhilarating. being someone completely new to the area meant that you could be whatever you wanted to be. there were no expectations from those around you; nobody knew who you were prior to moving. it was a freedom you feared you would never experience if you stayed back home– the smallest changes in your appearance would be the talk of the town, especially with the way history ran deep between the residents. in busan, it was a relief to be a stranger.

moving to busan meant being by the water every chance you could get. you’re glad you moved right around the time spring started. the weather was perfect; just warm enough, not too hot. in your free time, you find yourself walking along the shore. it was only a short distance from your apartment, being only a fifteen-minute walk away from the sea. as a kid, you’d only visited it once. to you, the water was so terrifyingly beautiful. one would think they know what it has to offer on its surface, but the truths lie deeper than one could ever imagine. the very bottom of the sea could hold the most precious treasure in the world or the most dangerous creatures unbeknownst to man– the possibilities were endless. it’s a shame that you didn’t get to indulge in your interest more when you were younger, but you weren’t complaining now that the beach was practically in your backyard.

sometimes you find yourself alone, sitting in the sand on an old blanket of yours. it’s normally right around dinner time, where most people have left the beach and the sun begins to fall from the sky. you could sit there for hours, listening to nothing but the waves crashing against the sand while you wait for the mix of colors from the sunset to paint the sky. you try to find a new place to relax every time you come to the water. much like how you felt about your hometown, it didn’t feel right to return to the same spot each time.

on one of your routine visits to the beach, you met a boy, whose story felt oddly familiar to you. much like your own upbringing, he’s been in the same place his whole life. this is where your timelines falter– it’s clear he has zero intentions of leaving the city he grew up in. to him, this is the only definition of home he could imagine. you were almost jealous. you yearned to know what it meant to truly enjoy being in the same place for so long. maybe it was commitment issues, or maybe it was just a never-ending desire to know more– to experience everything life had to offer. for donghyun, he seemed just fine being here forever.

the first time you saw him was by chance. today, you decided to go see the water after work. it was rare you worked the mid-shift, which coincidentally ended around the time you would normally find yourself sitting in the sand. “are you doing anything after work today, Y/N?” taesan asks, watching you take off your apron and fold it neatly before placing it into your bag.

“i think i'll go to the beach today.” you smile at the thought, having quickly found comfort in the location.

“wow, i'm jealous,” woonhak pouts at you from behind the register. “can’t believe you’re leaving taesan and i to close all by ourselves today!”

you playfully roll your eyes at the boy. “you should blame our boss, not me. if we’re all off one day, i promise we’ll all go together!” your coworkers wave goodbye to you as you walk out of the front entrance, happy to see that it was still somewhat bright outside. you normally left long after the sun had set, when most of the neighboring stores were closing as well.

the walk there was always pleasant. you liked exploring different routes, seeking out all possible ways to get to the same destination. it’s hard to keep the excitement bubbling within you contained when the vast expanse of sand first comes into view. there were still groups of people scattered across the area, but because it wasn’t exactly “beach season” yet, it wasn’t too populated. you hadn’t brought your usual blanket with you; coming here was a spontaneous decision. instead, you decided to lay out your apron close enough to the water to smell the salty air but just out of reach of the waves rippling against the shoreline.

you plant yourself onto your makeshift beach towel, the sand feeling soft below you, still warm from the sun’s touch. looking into the distance, you’re entranced by the movements of the sea. it was healing, the rhythmic push-and-pull of the waves leaving a white foam in its path, bubbling and full of life. the calls of seagulls from above you, soaring around peacefully.

you wish you knew what it could feel like to fly like that, to feel the air beneath your wings. complete freedom. a small figure comes into your view, pulling your gaze away from the birds. someone’s surfing? it’s a little cold to be doing that right now. even so, the boy didn’t seem to mind. standing on the surfboard, his face was filled with pure joy as he rode the water beneath him. the closer he got, you were able to hear his fun-filled cheers more clearly. complete freedom.

he was awfully good at what he was doing, unphased even if the tide seemed to pick up a bit more than expected. right now, the stranger looked completely in tune with the water; as if they were one and the same. his movements were graceful, despite how difficult it must be to keep balance.

the wave soon dies down, crashing against the sand as it always does. your eyes observe the way he laughs to no one but himself as he walks through the shallow parts of the water. drops of water fall from his hair as he shakes his head, board held securely beneath his arm. the wetsuit is tight against his skin; his figure is lean and toned, presumably from all the surfing he does.

he’s not too far away from you now, catching his breath as he sits in the sand parallel to you. the surfboard sits idly against the sand as he looks out into the horizon, seeking his next adventure. it’s not long before he gets up and approaches the water once more, sensing a big one coming up. you didn’t know much about how this worked, having only seen it in movies or tv shows, never in-person like this.

the man lays stomach-down onto his board, determined as he paddles deeper into the unknown. he’s dismissive of the smaller ripples against him, not nearly powerful enough to get a good ride. it’s impressive how he seems to control the water, rather than the other way around. it’s clear that he loves what he’s doing. you decide you love it too, completely mesmerized by the way he maneuvers through the tide. he disappears briefly as a larger wave washes over him, but he’s quick to rise above it, emerging on the other side and pushing further into the sea. you watch as the water begins to crest close to him. this is the one.

if you weren’t paying enough attention, you would’ve missed the way the stranger effortlessly springs to his feet, knees bent slightly when he first mounts the board. he shuffles slightly, adjusting his stance for better balance. almost in tune with the water, he skillfully navigates the wave, letting the water bring him back to the shore once more.

the sun was behind him now, a beautiful arrangement of pinks and oranges flooding the sky, making the picture perfect. you almost couldn’t believe you had the pleasure of seeing it in real time, the whole scene looking like a frame out of a movie. there it was again, an expression of bliss as he enjoys the ride, arms stretched out in the air by his sides as the board is pushed back to the shore once more. even when he falls off the board as the momentum slows down, the grin on his face never dies.

despite your attentiveness, you don’t comprehend the way the handsome man was heading your way, being led by the tide. much like before, he’s chuckling to himself as the high from the ride slowly dies down. his hand runs through his damp locks after wiping the salty water from his face. now, he’s walking directly towards you, eyes shaped like crescents with the way he was cheesing so hard. your heartbeat speeds up. you turn around, finding that there was no one else around. his smile is reserved for you.

the board is held close to his body as he leaves the water, his footsteps leaving indents in the damp sand behind him as he settles a couple feet away from you. there’s a soft plop as he drops the surfboard on the ground, taking a seat next to it.

“do you want to try?” his eyes flick over towards the water before they’re back on you.

“huh?” you’re baffled at the way you were observing him from afar only a couple minutes prior, and now he’s striking up a conversation.

“you’ve been watching me for a while, no?” he tilts his head, lips curling into a small smile. his accent is thick, more obvious than some of the others you’ve heard in your short time there. he must be from around here.

“was i that obvious?” you joke, playing with a handful of sand by your feet.

the stranger laughs in response. “there’s barely anyone else here right now, at least around this time of year. you think i wouldn’t feel a set of pretty eyes on me while i surfed?” your cheeks heat up at the comment, feeling a bit flustered at the sudden praise. he’s properly facing you now, hand outstretched in your direction. “nice to meet you, not-so-secret admirer. my name is kim donghyun.”

his hand is still wet, drops of water touching your own as you reach out to shake it. “i’m L/N Y/N. it’s nice to meet you too, donghyun.”

“is that an apron you’re sitting on?” he points out, moving to fiddle with one of its strings resting in the sand.

“pfft, yeah. forgot to bring my blanket today.” you explain, laughing at your forgetfulness. “i just got off work.”

“you come here often, then?” his hair was completely soaked still, droplets falling from it and landing beside him.

“i guess you could say that. i only moved here a couple weeks ago.”

“you picked the perfect city. i love it here.” the sun was almost completely out of view now, having slowly disappeared into the horizon. it was beautiful out. you breathe in the salty air as you watch the stray clouds floating by.

“yeah, i think so too. busan has been treating me well.”

“god, i’m starving,” he gets up abruptly, brushing his hands together to remove the sand clinging to them. you expect him to pick up his board and walk off, turning him into nothing more than an oddly-sweet beach interaction. “i know a good gukbap place nearby. coming with?” he extends a hand out to you again, waiting for you to accept his invitation. why not?

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moving to busan meant enjoying summer for the first time in years. as a kid, you used to dread this time of year. most of your friends looked forward to school finally ending, but to you, this just meant you truly had nothing to do with your spare time. your days were spent walking down the worn down paths listening to music, or sitting in your backyard reading one of the many books in your collection. this was the closest thing you had to “escaping” from your reality.

now, you had an entire city to explore. you were eager, but you wanted to take your time doing so. the last thing you would want is to get tired of busan, even if you arrived just a couple months ago. you didn’t see your excitement wearing down any time soon.

“there’s my favorite barista!” donghyun’s smiling at you in front of the register, where you’d been standing for the past couple hours. once you told him you were working at one of the local cafes, he quickly became a regular (only when you were on schedule, of course).

“you’re not getting anything today?” he shakes his head no, making you chuckle. he actually never bought anything when he was there, rather showing up just to talk to you in your free time. you tap a few buttons on the screen, starting your thirty minute break and walking out to the main floor of the shop, the surfer following closely behind.

“do you want to go to the beach with me later?” donghyun rests his head against his hand as he looks at you from across the table. “i’m going surfing again.” it’s sweet the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about his beloved hobby.

“wow, i would’ve never guessed!” you respond sarcastically, earning a giggle from him as he shrugs. “i’m closing today though. guess you won’t have an audience today.”

he pouts back at you, sniffling as he wipes away non-existent tears. “who else am i going to show off to then?” ever since the day you met, you found yourself seeing donghyun more often than you initially expected. you thought that he’d just be a friend you’d find in the waters every so often. not that it was an issue, no– rather, you found yourself perking up every time he walked through the doors. it’s something woonhak quickly picked up on when working with you, often nudging you with his elbow suggestively every time donghyun showed up.

“i’m off tomorrow, though.” you’re looking at your shifts on your phone. “if you’re free, maybe we can-”

“yes.” he answers immediately, catching you off guard.

“you’re not going to let me finish my sentences now?” you can’t hold back the grin on your face at how forward he was. “what if i asked you to go fishing in the middle of the night or something?”

“...i’d still say yes. that sounds fun, actually. we could totally do that if you want to!” every word that came out his mouth was so incredibly endearing, even if he wasn’t trying.

…and that’s how you found yourself next to him at midnight, only a couple hours after you got off work, sitting in two fold-up beach chairs on the dock. “i’d question why you have all this fishing gear, but i should’ve expected as much from you, donghyun.”

“hey, isn’t this nice though? there’s no one else here at this time.” he looks proud as he rests the fishing rod on the wooden guard rail, line casted in the water. “isn’t it kind of romantic?”

your cheeks heat up at his implications. if it weren’t for the warm lantern placed between you two, he would’ve missed the blush on your face. “i was joking when i said we should do this, you know.”

“oh, was it? i was serious, though.” you can tell he’s telling the truth with the way he looks at you with a serious gaze.

“yeah, i know that now.” you didn’t mind being dragged around to his odd antics. weird, yeah, but you can’t deny the fact that you enjoyed every second of his company. he enjoyed yours as well. “i find it funny to think you find this to be romantic.”

“why wouldn’t i? you’re here with me, after all.” with that, you realize that you see donghyun as more than just a boy you met on the beach.

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moving to busan meant having someone to walk with once the autumn leaves started coming in. it was always nice to see the trees begin to change color, but you always wondered what it would be like to see the transition on a bigger scale– and busan gave you the perfect chance to do just that. now that you finally got to experience the fall wonder somewhere new, you weren’t sure if you could ever go back to the life you once lived.

days like this were common, where you’d walk through the streets that donghyun grew up in. usually it was just you two, but today, he suggested you come with him as he walked his dog. naturally, you accept; it was hard to deny a cute boy with an equally cute dog in his arms. you hold onto the leash, smiling at the way koni would stop every couple minutes to sniff something on the ground.

as you walk a bit further, you stumble across a large crowd of people surrounding various street vendors, curiosity piqued within you. “ah, is it already time for the jagalchi festival? how could i forget!” donghyun marvels at his poor memory, he hadn’t realized it’s already been seven months since you entered his life. time seemed to go by quicker with you by his side.

“festival? this happens every year?” your steps slow down, koni gently tugging on the leash to keep walking towards the bustling area.

“yeah, it’s basically like a huge fish market that runs for a couple days. tons of people come from around the country to see it, actually. the local fishermen show off all the catches from the season, so you know it’s the freshest you can get… and there’s performances too! you have to see it now that you’re a busan resident!”

donghyun takes your hand in his, leading you towards the festival. banners were put up all over the area, welcoming in visitors from near and far into the heart of busan. colorful lanterns adorned the sides of each vendor’s stall, enveloping the area in a comfortable glow. there were people of all ages in attendance, smiling and laughing amongst each other as they explored everything the market had to offer– this was something you would’ve never experienced back at home.

the two of you come to a stop at one of the less crowded sellers. its owner, a kind looking old man, was standing proud at the buckets of fish laid out on the ground in front of him. “should we raise a fish together?”

“donghyun, these fish are dead.”

he rolls his eyes at you playfully. “duh, i know that. i mean like, going to the store and getting a new friend for my tank at home.”

“wouldn’t that just mean you’re raising it on your own? i don’t have any space for a fish tank at my place.” you think back to your apartment, which now felt like a space you could truly call your own. you were proud to think that you finally felt like you were where you belonged, even if you’ve only been here for a short time.

“that’s fine! what matters to me is that we bought it together! obviously i’d give you visiting rights to our child.” how could you reject him when his eyes light up at the mention of getting a pet with you?

“woah, our child? we must be serious now.” your comment is nothing more than a joke, but he’s silent as he thinks about what he wants to say. he gives the hand he’s holding a slight squeeze.

“can i be your boyfriend, Y/N?”

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moving to busan meant finding a new type of warmth amidst the cold winter. back at home, winters felt especially difficult. you were prone to the adverse effects of seasonal depression when this time of year came around. the days weren’t as long, sun setting much earlier than it did in the summer, leaving you with nothing but darkness. just getting out of bed felt like a hassle– there was nothing to look forward to in such a boring town. everything was just… so bland. you were in a constant state of irritation, the smallest things ticking you off and leaving you frustration for no specific reason.

this winter, you found it hard to believe those old feelings haven’t come back yet. not when you had someone like donghyun at your side. if you found it hard to get out of bed, he’d be there to drag you out with him, humming to himself as you made breakfast together in your tiny kitchen. if you felt like crying, he’d be waiting next to you, box of tissues in hand as he wiped away your tears.

winter usually felt like being dragged deeper into the ocean, unable to swim– but now, donghyun was there to bring you back to the surface, safe and sound. each day spent with him felt like healing; as if nothing bad could ever happen to you knowing that there was someone who looked at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“do you ever miss your hometown, Y/N?” you were laying in your boyfriend’s arms in his childhood bedroom. his prized fish tank sat on his dresser, where the fish you bought together swam happily amongst its friends. there were photos of him as a kid framed on his walls– him at his middle school graduation smiling proudly between his parents, him holding koni as a puppy, him crying beside his older sister on the playground– each one giving you a glimpse of the life he lived before he met you. “i can’t imagine throwing everything away and leaving like you did.”

“well, it sounds bad when you say it like that. i don’t think i was happy there, though.” donghyun knew he wanted nothing more than to give you a home you felt comfortable going back to. a place where you could feel true happiness in. he’s mindlessly running his hands through your hair from behind you as he listens. “i can’t say i miss it just yet. maybe i’ll visit sometime soon, just not now.”

“does that mean you’re happy here? in busan, i mean.”

“yeah, i’m happy,” you take a moment to reflect on the way your life completely changed upon leaving the town you once knew; how a stranger on the beach brought color into your colorless world. sunsets spent eating ice cream on a hot day at the beach, meals shared at his favorite local restaurants, and nights much like this one, being embraced by the man you love, as you talk until the sun rises. “i knew things would be better somewhere else, but i’d never imagine meeting someone like you so soon. you make me feel like i should look at things a little differently at home.”

“if you ever decide to go back there, can i come with you?” he rests his head on your shoulder, cheek touching yours.

“hm? i mean, if you want to. there’s not much to see there. i don’t think you’d have as much fun there as you do here.” you offer, thinking about how disappointed he’d be upon seeing that there truly was nothing to do there compared to busan.

“i want to see it. i don’t care if you think it’s boring,” he’s sincere with his words, you can tell he means everything he’s saying when it comes to you. “we can rewrite all your bad memories together. it makes me sad to think you look back at the town you grew up in without fondness.”

“it’s going to be at least a year until i want to see that place again,” you grab his hand, large fingers enveloping yours. “but i’d like that a lot, donghyun.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚💐💗🌸

and by the time spring rolls around once more, and it’s finally been one year since you moved to busan, you think you finally understand what it means to feel at home. you never got the chance to visit the temples last year, just barely missing cherry blossom season when you first unloaded your boxes in your empty apartment. from then, you promised yourself you’d save it for the best time of year, when the blossoms were in full bloom, baby pink petals on display and falling along with the occasional breeze.

you’ve never known what it felt like to be loved wholeheartedly, but you’re certain this is it, as you walk hand in hand with donghyun through a path of cherry blossom trees. with him, you found that every day felt like a scene out of a drama. exiting through the temple’s entrance, you return back to the streets you were now familiar with. there’s a small creamery hidden between a restaurant and convenience store, and you find yourself sitting at a table outside, ice cream slowly melting in their cups in front of you.

“i wish i was cooler when i asked to be your boyfriend. i think about that a lot,” donghyun plays with your fingers across the table before intertwining them with his own. “in all honesty, i was thinking about it for a long time before that day.”

“really?” this was news to you. you knew you had more than platonic feelings for donghyun that night at the dock, but you were surprised to hear he felt the same way as early as you did. it warmed your heart to think he fell in love as quickly as he did.

“yeah. i wanted to do something cool, like surprising you at work with a big bouquet of flowers, or making you your favorite food and hiding a note in it. just anything more interesting than popping the question at a damn fish stall.”

you burst out laughing at the thought of finding a piece of paper in your meal. “it was perfect to me, though. i’m more shocked at the fact you saw me like that for so long, donghyun.” you feel shy suddenly, reminiscing on the way your heart would speed up everytime he walked into the cafe, or when he would walk you back to your apartment after spending the day in the water together.

“i knew you’d be someone important to me the day i noticed you watching me on the beach. i don’t know why, though. maybe it’s just because people don’t really bat an eye when they see me surfing.”

“it was hard not to. i’ve never seen anyone so carefree. i guess i was just jealous of the fact that someone could look like that.” you can’t believe it’s already been a year since you first saw him on the beach. it was almost as if the sea brought the two of you together when the wave he was riding pushed him straight to you.

“i think you look like that when you’re with me,” donghyun’s smiling at his realization. “when i’m with you, it feels like i’m riding a wave that never dies. i’d give up surfing if it meant i could have you by my side forever.” the confession shocks you, knowing how much he loved spending hours at the beach every day, chasing the high he got when he was on his surfboard. you wanted to cry; to think that someone would let go of something that meant the world to them just for you. donghyun thinks he could cry too– to think that he had found you, a person who changed his world in a matter of months, by a stroke of fate.

to donghyun, you moving to busan meant making you a part of his definition of “home”.

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