#never fight a man with a perm

[dex-starr]

IDLES - Never Fight A Man With A Perm

[letstalkshipping]

It felt extremely weird to be hearing lyrics like

"A heathen from Eton On a bag of Michael Keaton"

in a Peaky Blinders' episode. Very odd song choice, even if half the words fit the vibe very well.

Never Fight a Man With a Perm - Idles

[whereistheorangejuice]

[punkrockmixtapes]

IDLES - NEVER FIGHT A MAN WITH A PERM (Official Video)

[todayisafridaynight]

tumblr might not respect the alligator print but i do

[sentientcave]

Okay okay on that note if y'all haven't been listening to IDLES wooooboy have this too

[jacaerysgf]

The hour of the wolf

summary: You make an offer for an old friend. You offer up anything to make sure his life is spared. What the wolf wants shocks you more than anything.

Cregan Stark x Beesbury!Reader

w.c: 3k

c.w: SPOILERS FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD; the hour of the wolf, mutual pining, soft? cregan, SMUT !, oral (male and fem), minor fingering (fem), face sitting, dirty talk, lord kink, hairy cregan, p in v, minor bearded cregan, breeding kink, minorly proofread

a.n: literally just a reimagining of the black aly and cregan scene from the books, i hate that fact that they rlly might cut black aly from the show let me kms.

perm cregan taglist (open!)

The room is far too hot. The glares of the men in the room far too intense. Words unspoken louder than anything. You had been sitting in this room for hours now, the arguing the anger seemingly never ending. You understand him. A stark never does forget his oaths that much has become very clear to you.

The fur covered man turns his back to the group after some harsh words leave his lips. You decide enough is enough and turn to the other men in the room. “Leave us.” Oscar and benjicot give each other nervous looks before turning back to you. “y/n…” You place a hand on Oscar's shoulder and squeeze it, “I have this, trust me.” He hesitates for a few moments before he nods and with the help of benjicot clears out the council room leaving you alone with the wolf of the north.

His back is still turned to you, staring at the window with a glare in his eyes. “My lord-” “I have done all that you all have asked. I have agreed to not storm on the green castles, i have given my men, i have been merciful to those who should have been marked to death i will not relent on this.” He had finally begun to face you, his face angry. You can see the stress of the last days weighting down on his face, a noticeable stubble from not being able to shave, bags under his eyes, he looked exhausted and you felt awful

Corlys Velaryon. once a man who you would have considered a good friend turned turncloak. The new king had pardoned his crimes along with the rest of you except for cregan, so stuck in his justice it will not stop until he has his head. Thought he had pardoned corlys, when you had went to the king to see to cregan being stopped, not wishing to fight one of the only men he trusted he did nothing to fight the northern leaving you all to try to persuade him yourselves.

You understood his anger. Having vowed himself to the queen and the late prince and both now dead due to the greens. “i’m afraid i cannot relent on this as well my lord.” You knew corlys did what he had to. maybe you would have not done the same in his place but it did not matter to you. Cregan huffs, pushing off the table he was leaning on to walk past you. “then there is nothing for us to speak of.”

You do not try to grab him as he walks past as much as you wish to. you only knew the lord stark for a year now but he had become a good friend to you and you like to think you were one to him as well. it took him awhile to open up to you, the northern not interested in speaking to most and was flat out rude to most but you persevered and was rewarded by earning the favor of the stark, leading him to seek out your council.

You felt more for the stark. More that was beyond friendship. you were a minor lady from minor house, the war and the growing tensions and battles with the hightowers leaving you even worse for wares and he was probably the most powerful man in the realm right now as well as a recent widow. He would want nothing to do with you if it were not for you insistence and you’re sure after this is all said and done if he does not agree to be the kings hand permanently this will be the last time you ever hear from the man.

Yet you are desperate. you so badly don’t want him to do this. corlys’ life more valuable than many realize. “what can i offer you?”

You voice cracks as you speak, whipping around to see his retreating form paused at your words but he does not turn around. you take a deep breath as you take the steps towards him. every step you take he steps back. “grant me this one thing and i shall never ask another thing from you ever again. If you do i shall have sonnets and songs written of you, tales of your great strength and wisdom. Grant this one wish and i will do anything you desire.”

His back hits the wall and he pears down at you with a tilted head as you stand firmly in front of him. not closely enough to be touching but close enough you can smell him, woodsmoke musk of his skin. He’s quiet but the look in his eyes shows Hes thinking about your words. You begin to grow a bit nervous when a light smile creeps up on his face. “I shall grant you your wish.”

“and what in return?”

“you.”

You stumble back while cregan remains rooted where he is, watching you with delight. “you misspeak.” “i do not.” you shake your head furiously. he cannot truly mean that as much as your skin crawls and your heart pounds you cannot accept his words. “If you are looking for a wife i am more than happy to help you find one.” “i am not looking for a wife. i want you.”

You pace around the room, tugging at the collar of your black and yellow dress. The room suddenly having grown hot and you dress uncomfortable. “There are many lovely ladies,” “im sure there are,” “The war has left many without a husband as awful as it is to speak. i would be more than happy help set you up with a couple meetings with them.” “is one of them with you? i will attend that one.”

You turn to him and almost wish you could curse at him and his pleased face. “my lord please.” his face drops and he grabs your hand tugging you into him. His hand softly coming to your face, the obvious look of affection in his eyes makes your stomach churn. “a hand for a head. give me your hand and i will do as you say. i will do as you say for the rest of my life.”

You take a couple deep breaths in disbelief, he wanted you. “A hand for a head. i will give you as you ask.” He leans in closer to you, you almost feel as though he is going to kiss you and you close your eyes in anticipation but he pauses right as your lips are about to touch and you hear him chuckle lightly. “You want me as well.” It is not a question but despite that you nod and his lips are pressed against yours. You can feel him hum and smile against your lips. He is an animal, hungerly eating at your lips like he is a starved man, as if he had been waiting for this for far too long.

You try your best to meet him all the same but he completely consumes you and you can do nothing but submit to him. When you pull apart you both stare at one another with lust in your eyes. So when you lightly step back he stares at your curiously until you sink down onto your knees and his breathing stops. “What do you think you’re doing?” You trace your hands along his thighs as you peer up at him. “doing my best to please you my lord.” he groans in delight and licks his lips. “will you allow me to my lord.” “if you do not put me in your mouth right now i will push you down and fuck you on the floor like a whore.” You wish his words did not affect you like they did, you can feel how soaked you are, you might as well be dripping onto your feet.

He allows you to grab at his pants and watches as you pull them down exposing them fully. He is huge. How in the hells were you even going to put this thing in your mouth? You can see the hair that trails up towards his stomach, the veins that line up and down him pulse with need while he lightly drips out some precum. As if driven by pure lust you reach out and lick at the drops that spill out of him, sucking around his tip to see if you can get anymore. You must be doing something right because he groans at your actions, grabbing the back of your head as you continue to push him further into your mouth. “fuck you feel so fucking good.” You whine lightly at his praise as begin to rub yourself onto the heel of your foot. When you moan around him he pushes you greedily further into him. “you feeling good too? such a greedy girl.”

You have no real clue what you’re doing but cregan helps you every step of the way, and when you put him fully in your mouth, your nose is buried in his hair. His hand on the back of your head pulling you closer and further until you get a good rhythm yourself and he lets you do as you please. “so fucking good for me fuck.” You can tell he’s close to cracking, his grip on your head grows tighter and his panting gets heavier, his words of praise turn into slurs of mumbles of nothing. He tries to pull you off not wanting to overwhelm you, “its too much.” But you keep firm and hes flowing into your mouth, you almost choke but pull yourself off of him and swallow down his salty seed.

You almost look up at him to try and see what his reaction was but you instead yelp as you’re pulled up and thrown over his shoulder. “what are you doing?!” he pulls up his pants and readjusts himself before he walks out of the room with you still over his shoulder. people stare as you walk past but nobody dares to question the hand so they all continue about their business. you even see oscar on your way who shoots you a bewildered look but you just throw your hands up in confusion and embarrassment.

You realize he is taking you to his room. He shuts the door with his foot and tosses you onto the bed. He strips himself of his furs and clothes where he’s standing bare in front of you. He truly was a man and you gulped. Greedily admiring his hairy body as he strode towards you with the utmost confidence. “If you do not want this you will tell.” You nod, “With your words.” You shiver, “yes..” hes pleased but gives you a look. “yes,,,?” you purse your lips before answering him, “yes my lord.”

He kisses you and leans on top of you until you’re laying on your back. You feel his fingers trailing up your leg and push past your underwear to push two fingers inside of you. You grip onto his shoulder and gasp as he begins to work his fingers in and out of you. “you’re dripping down my fingers, look at you pretty girl.” you shudder against him as he continues to work at you. He suddenly pulls away and you whine but he kisses your complaints away. “sit on my face.” Your brows furrow together in confusion, “what?” He chuckles, his hair tickling your face and shoulders. “just do as i say.”

Despite your confusion you nod, trusting your future husband who rolls the two of you over and you’re suddenly on top of him. He pulls every string and pushes away every piece of fabric under you sit just as bare as he is. You almost fold your arms to cover yourself but his hands grab yours as he continues to admire you with heart eyes. “you are the most beautiful lady i have ever seen.” Your face burns as you turn your head away from him. “sweet talker.” “I mean every word.”

He lays all the way back and it suddenly becomes abundantly clear what it means and you are alarmed. “You will suffocate.” He laughs and shakes his head as he continues to try and pull you up to his face. “a real man would not, trust me.” “this cannot be right.” “it will be good i promise. trust me. i want to.” Despite your doubts and worries you allow yourself to hover over his face lightly, his beard scratches at your face. you hear him sigh as he kisses your thigh, “I said sit.” He suddenly pulls you down and you’re fully sitting down on his face and he begins to lap at you.

You were not the most innocent women, having touched yourself a fair share of times but this was a completely different experience. His tongue laps at you eagerly, drinking up every drop while his hands knead your sides. You grip onto his hair as you as, your eyes closed and you throw your head back in pleasure. You keel over when his hands move you to grind on top of his face, his nose rubbing against your bud and your hips eagerly begin to move to try to get more and more friction. with every call of his name he hums and groans into you sending shockwaves down your spine.

You can do nothing to stop yourself from releasing all over his face. you mumble apologies but he simply eagerly licks up every drop before suddenly flipping you over and hovering over you. his face gleams with the shine of your essence. “ive been wanting to do that for too fucking long.” you turn away as your face heats, he turns your head back towards him and pecks you on the lips. “I hope you know i am being truthful, my words do not stem from purely desire. i love you.” Your breathe escapes you and your hands come up to cup his face, “my lord…” “cregan.” a smile plays on your face, “cregan, i have loved you since the moment i met you.” His face softens at your words, “even when i was an ass?” “especially when you were an ass.” He shakes his head in humor before he presses his lips against yours once again.

His hardness his your thigh and you moan. “i dont wish to force you.” “I want you to cregan. take me.” He wraps your legs around his hips as he aligns himself up to you, “if it hurts too much tell me.” you nod and your heart continues to pound in anticipation. It does hurt, it hurts like hell as his hard cock pushes its way past your walls, you find yourself biting his shoulder and he groans at your actions. When he bottoms out he pauses, allowing you enough time to adjust to him. Its hard to, when he is so big and you can feel every vein and the way he throbs against you. He pecks kisses around your face and down your neck to distract you, pouring his love into every peck.

“You can move.” “you sure?” it does not hurt as much anymore, sure there is a light sting but surely that will only add to the pleasure. “yes please fuck me cregan.” He lets out a noise one would only consider to be a growl, “you want me to fuck you? ill fucking fuck you.” His pace is quick but not too rough, its enough to have your toes curling with every thrust. He’s mumbling into your ear, words of praise but you can barely make sense of it as you begin to see stars. Your hands scratch down his back and he howls as you bite his shoulder. “fuck wanna see you full, with my kid.” you moan with pleasure at his words and nod your head eagerly, “yes yes yes i want that so bad please please.”

“You want my babes? for me to fuck you full and round? for you to carry my pups?” you nod eagerly against his shoulder as you begin to chant his name like its the only word you know and he calls out your name just the same. You can feel your stomach burning, “cregan im gonna im,” he shushes you as he only begins to move faster, one of his hands coming down to play with your bud. “cum fuck do it. wanna feel it.” He makes no moves to stop even as you burst around him, if anything he seems more motivated as the sounds of your skin slapping together grow louder. His thrusts your sloppy and his hips move more eagerly until you feel yourself being filled with his hot seed, pumping you full.

You two attempt to catch your breaths, you wipe his sweaty stuck hair away from his face as he grins at you. The moment suddenly ruined when loud banging hits his door and the two of you freeze, staring at each other with wide eyes. “Lord stark!” you recognize the voice as one of the squires and you watch as cregans face falls with annoyance. “what?” his voice is clearly angry as he spits at the door, seemingly having no intention of pulling out of you. “one of the lord has requested an audience-” “i am not available for the rest of the day.” “but my lord-” “leave me be.”

You can sense a pause from outside the room before the footsteps suddenly begin to fade away leaving the two of you alone once more. You open your mouth to speak but he sudden pulls out and spins you over quickly shoving himself back inside of you. there will be time to talk later it seems and when a maid walks in later that evening cregan makes no attempt to explain why the room smells as it does and why the windows are foggy. but everyone knows, the lord stark is not one for quiet women.

[sincerelyrki]

everyone should know

your boyfriend couldn’t just sit around and watch another man shamelessly flirt with you. he had to do something, even if it meant revealing your relationship.

pairing : idol!secretbf!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings + genre : suggestive themes. secret relationship. jealousy. reader is said to have hair long enough to braid.

wc : 626

a/n : i struggle with writing drabbles but i hope this one turned out alright <3 i’m trying to update (almost) everyday whether it be a new miniskirt chapter or a oneshot (tmr it will be a miniskirt update, promise)

perm written taglist : @vousty

Sunghoon’s unmoving glare seemed to have no effect on his eldest member, his attention drawn to you like a moth. 

A flirty smile sat on Heeseung’s lips the entire time the two of you conversed, knees bumping as your body was bent toward each other.

The entire dinner Sunghoon had to listen to your cute giggles, watching as you playfully knocked your shoulders against the man sitting directly beside you.

He struggled with restraining himself, his legs almost shaking the entire table as they unrelentlessly bounced. 

His hands were in no better condition, knuckles ghostly white as he clutched his utensils tight in his palms. 

“Your hair is so pretty, did you braid it yourself?” The second Heeseung’s hand gently tugged on one of your braids, Sunghoon snapped.

The entire table flinched in shock as Sunghoon’s fork came slamming down, his plate chattering due to the force that suddenly came down around it.

Sunghoon rounded the table, his fingers wrapping around Heeseung’s wrist as he pulled his hand away from you.

 “I did it.” He declared a little bit too loud, looks getting thrown your way from the staff sitting around the neighbouring tables. 

Heeseung raised his hands in retreat, eyebrows raised as he matched Sunghoon’s look. “It looks good, but I think I could’ve done better.”

He gave you one more glance, winking at you as he finished his sentence, “much better.”

Everyone shared a look, their legs pushing their chairs out as they prepared to jump in between the two males before they could begin fighting in front of their entire staff.

“Oh really?” Sunghoon mused, head tilting to the side as he pretended to think about the possibility of Heeseung’s words being true.

Heeseung confidently nodded his head, his hands lowering to cross across his chest, his chin held high as he looked up at the two of you. 

Sunghoon moved his head to face you, his hand coming up to trace along one of the braids. “Now that you mention it, she was moving quite a lot.” 

Your jaw dropped at Sunghoon’s obvious innuendo, heat rushing throughout your body as everyone seemed to understand what he was referring to.

Sunghoon didn’t wait to see Heeseung’s response, turning his back to him as he gently entwined your hands. 

He led you back to his seat, his hand never leaving yours as he once again sat down.

He spread his legs, his knees separating as he slid his hips lower down the chair. “Sit,” He patted his thigh once, his hand tugging against yours as he pulled you forward.

Sunghoon helped you sit across him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tugged your back taut against his chest. 

“Isn’t it so much more comfortable over here?” Sunghoon purposely breathed down your neck, his cocky smile growing as he felt your body shiver. 

“I guess he hasn’t realized that you’re my girl yet, I think we need to make it a little more…” He trailed off, his hands tightening around your waist before he began placing small pecks along the base of your neck, “obvious.”

“No one knew, they wouldn’t have sat me beside someone else if they did.” You almost started defending your close friend but automatically backtracked after realizing how angry Sunghoon was.

“That’s the problem, everyone should know.” 

“Should they?” Sunghoon knew you were just teasing him at this point, riling him up for your amusement. But he still took your words seriously, imagining the look on Heeseung’s face after he finds out about the sincerity of your relationship.

“They’ll all know by tonight.” 

It was safe to say that they all knew about the two of you by the time the sun set, Heeseung getting the hint right away.

[dracolizardlars]

Yeah you truly just need to fucking watch that. (You probably can't if you're outside the UK tragically). Holy fucking shit

On a personal note I was pleasantly shocked they did Colossus I can't overstate how much I love that track, I actually haven't been into IDLES at all in a while (I really doubt the one album of theirs I ever got into has received a single play by me in the last 2 years) but that ONE track remained an ever constant ocassional listen for the whole time. It's just really something special. God.

But yeah that performance had everything trust me. Anti-fascist chanting, an Irishman with a moustache prancing around the stage wearing a floral sundress (guitarist Mark Bowen, he does that), a kid from the audience getting to go onstage, and an OUTRAGEOUS amount of crowdsurfing

God IDLES are fucking incredible aat Glastonbury I haven't been liveblogging cus I can't look away

[juyeonszn]

SWEET

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.61k

GENRES fluff ﹒ smut ﹒ minuscule bit of angst

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, boy next door/neighbor au, reader was in a toxic-ish relationship, juyo is so cute and so sweet, until he’s kinda 😵‍💫 yk?, um kevin and changmin appearances, reader being absolutely irrevocably impossibly down bad for juyeon’s hands, so hand kink lol, making out, vaginal fingering, cum eating…. lol, they get a little sappy at the end

SUMMARY maybe this was for the better. maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor.

MORE i would like to apologize for putting this out a day late… um i was really busy preparing for my enhypen concert so 😭 not a lot of writing was happening since there wasn’t enough brain juice flowing. anyways. ENJOY <3 pls rb if u did! (ALSO THANK U REESE AND @sungbeam FOR BETAING AND EDITING <<<3 i love y’all sm)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

If there was one thing you took pride in, it was your keen sense of hospitality.

You’d been raised as the type of girl to always be welcoming when a new face arrived, to be that guiding light for them as they adjusted to all the changes in their life. When you were little, your mother taught you to introduce yourself first, because you never knew if that person was shy or not. Of course, there was the usual ‘Stranger Danger’ pep talk, but it differed greatly from the new friend pep talk.

The first time you exhibited this wonderful trait of yours was in middle school when the foreign student in your class was forced to stand at the front of the room. He wasn’t necessarily shy, but you could tell he didn’t really enjoy being put on the spot, hands behind his back as he said his name and where he was from.

Kevin Moon. Age 13. Vancouver, Canada.

The only empty desk in the classroom was the one beside yours, and that was the golden opportunity to become best friends with the new kid. As soon as he settled into his seat and class had resumed as normal, you leaned over slightly and cupped a hand over your mouth to whisper loud enough that he could hear.

“Hi! I’m Y/N!”

He gave you a small smile in return and from then on, you and Kevin Moon were the best of friends.

The second time you proved your kindness was your freshman year of college. It was still syllabus week, but your professor had sent out an email over the weekend with papers that needed to be printed and brought to class. The guy next to you didn’t get the memo, freaking out over already messing things up on the first day.

You didn’t know him at all, but you felt bad that he was so stressed. In turn, you decided to rip up your own papers. He looked at you like you were crazy, maybe because you were. What idiot does something like that?

You give him a warm smile. “There. Now we’re both missing it.”

All he can do is laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m Changmin.”

“Y/N.”

After that, Ji Changmin came to be another one of your closest friends. It was kind of silly that something your mother instilled in you at a young age had become such a big part of your life. It brought you people who you’d cherish forever. But it also brought people you wish you’d never met.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Y/N, babe, we can work through this—”

“Are you deaf?” Your tone raises and your feet carry you to the front door, swinging it open. “I said to get out of my apartment.”

“We’ve been together for three years. You’re not gonna fight for us?” He pleads, clasping his hands as he stands in front of you.

“Why would I? Why should I stay with someone who doesn’t value me enough to stay loyal?” You seethe, your anger growing in size the longer you glare at his pathetic face. The face of a man you thought would love you until death did you part.

“She meant nothing to me!” He tries to rationalize with you, but you won’t have any of it. You weren’t stupid and you sure as hell weren’t blind.

“Do you take me as a fucking fool, Daehyun? I’ve known for months that you weren’t ‘working late at the office’. She even DMed me and showed me screenshots of your messages. Now get out before I call the cops.” You’re so pissed off that you don’t even realize you’re crying, fat tears trickling down your hot cheeks.

“After all I’ve done for you and all I’ve given you? You’re gonna act like a bitch?” He drops the innocent boyfriend act, backing you into the doorframe.

“Leave, Daehyun.” You say flatly. You’re not gonna give him the satisfaction of crumbling beneath the weight of his words. You knew the truth, you knew what kind of person he truly was after all this time.

He scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the hook beside him and finally storming out of your apartment. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the sobs that so badly want to escape. You watch as he bumps shoulders with a stranger holding a box, thankfully not looking back at you.

You make eye contact with said stranger, eyes wide like a child who’d just gotten caught with their hands in a cookie jar. His eyes resemble those of your friends’ when you told them you’d found out about your boyfriend’s infidelity. You both stand there for a moment, an impromptu staring contest ensuing.

Quickly, you snap out of your trance, cowering into your apartment. You vaguely remember the elderly woman across the hall mentioning that someone was moving into the unit beside yours. She had never told you a specific date, though. Had you known it was today, you might’ve expedited the dramatic break-up with Daehyun.

How could you possibly introduce yourself to him after he witnessed that? And in your current state; snot-nosed and teary-eyed? There was no way. You’d just have to postpone that for another day. Hopefully he didn’t mind too much.

“Was he cute?”

“Kevin, why is that what you’re worried about?” Changmin’s mouth pulls into a thin line, smacking the slightly older male over the back of the head. He winces, caressing the spot to ease the pain.

“I wasn’t really paying attention to that when I had just shoved my cheating ex boyfriend out of my apartment,” you push around the ramyeon on your plate with your chopsticks. “I do feel terrible that he had to see that though. But how can I face him after that?”

Kevin taps his chin with his index finger, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t you bake for him? Welcome him to the complex like the hospitable neighbor you are.”

“That’s not a half bad idea, actually.” Changmin nods, shoveling some rice onto his spoon. The Pisces deadpans and reclines in his chair.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, enough bickering you two. I need you to finish eating so I can start planning what to bake.”

The third time you practice your mother’s life lesson, is the next evening when you’re face-to-face with your neighbor’s door.

Your hands have begun to clam up beneath the warm tupperware of cookies you were holding. Were you supposed to just knock on his door like everything was fine and dandy? What if he wasn’t even home? Maybe you should just leave the baked goods with a note and—

The door swings open to reveal the stranger from a few days ago. However, this time he also wears that expression of shock, cat-like eyes widened. Your mouth moves like fish out of water, not sure what you should say or how you should say it. So you don’t think and you just act, extending the tupperware towards him.

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m your neighbor,” your speech is a little shaky, but you’re too nervous to focus on that. “I— um— I baked these for you as a housewarming gift to welcome you to the complex. As well as an apology for making you a bystander in my messy breakup.”

His features relax as a smile inches its way onto his face, graciously accepting the treats you made for him. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. And don’t even worry about it, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“N-No, you’re fine, I swear! We shouldn’t have aired our dirty laundry so publicly like that. You did nothing wrong.” You wave your hands as if physically dismissing his words. He lets out a little chuckle that warms your chest.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad that you left the dude. He sounded like a total asshole,” your neighbor tucks the tupperware under his arm, leaning against the threshold of his apartment. “You seem too nice to settle for somebody like that. From what I’ve seen, of course.”

You don’t know why that has your heart skipping a beat like a high school girl. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he really was cute. He had a boyish charm to him, but not so much so that it overpowered how handsome he was. Kevin was going to have a field day with this information.

“Uh, thank you. I should be getting back to my place now. I have an early day at work tomorrow. Have a good night!” You clear your throat to kick yourself out of whatever stupor you were about to fall into, bowing. As you’re turning on your heel to make the ten foot trip to your own apartment, he calls out your name.

“I’m Juyeon, by the way.” He grins, waving as you push open your door.

“Now that is quite the interesting development.” Kevin snorts, helping himself to one of the raspberry filled donuts you’d just finished baking.

“If you keep eating my product, I’m gonna have to kick you out of the kitchen and out of my bakery,” you chide, swatting his hands away from the baker’s rack. “And how is that interesting in the slightest? I literally gave him the cookies, apologized, and that was that.”

“He was literally flirting with you, Y/N. Changmin, tell her I’m right. Apparently I’m no longer a voice of reason here.” He says through a full mouth.

“I mean, yeah? Kinda? Calling a girl nice is usually guy code for ‘I think you’re attractive and I could see myself sleeping with you’,” Changmin shrugs, tearing off a piece of Kevin’s donut. “But I also see where you’re coming from. You did just meet each other. He could’ve just been trying to console you in a way.”

“Why am I even friends with men when they’re useless?” You throw your head back, speaking to no one in particular.

Perhaps Kevin truly was overthinking the situation. Juyeon seemed to be a kind person who probably didn’t want any problems with his neighbors. It made sense why he’d side with you after witnessing your break up. Besides, the wounds were still too fresh to even consider thinking of anyone else in such a way. No matter how hot they may be…

You’d just have to wait and see for yourself. Only time could tell what would become of the nature of your relationship with your cute new neighbor.

You look insane with everything in your cart, filled to the brim with baking ingredients. It was around 10 PM and here you were, at the grocery store buying the things needed to make cinnamon rolls. Being a baker with a bit of a sweet tooth meant your cravings got a little out of hand at times, forcing you to make drastic decisions. (I.E. grocery shopping so late at night.)

Even your clothing choice was silly: flimsy pajama shorts with Care Bears patterned on them, a baggy t-shirt, and matching slippers. It’s not like anyone cared anyway. And it wasn’t like you were trying to impress anybody either.

But as you’re walking towards the registers, you start to regret your outfit. You very quickly spot your neighbor with a basket on his arm, waiting in line for self-checkout. You feel all the color drain from your face as you stand there, staring like an absolute idiot.

He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie swallowing his figure. He looks so effortlessly good, it kind of makes you upset. Because how are you just now meeting a guy who’s both kind and attractive? As far as you were concerned, they didn’t exist in real life— they only existed in fairytales.

Juyeon looks up from his phone and catches your eye, his hand coming up to give you a little wave and one of those crinkly eye smiles that he does when you pass each other in the hall.

As the weeks have passed, you’ve seen him more and more than you deemed normal. You’d bump into each other on the way to or from picking up your mail, you’d hold the elevator for the other in record time, and you’d even leave your apartments at the same time. Now it appears you’re running into the guy at the supermarket, too. You tried to chalk it all up to coincidence, that you just both happened to be thinking on the same wavelength.

But shyly waving back to him right now reminds you that divine intervention had crazy ways of working its magic. Perhaps those had all just been openings for you to engage in something more with your cute neighbor. And there was only one way to find out.

You psych yourself up as you walk towards him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Juyeon’s smile grows wider as he notices you approaching. “Hey, stranger. What are you up to tonight?”

“Some late baking,” you giggle, wanting to punch yourself in the face for sounding like a goddamn school girl. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to come over and keep me company? Totally up to you of course! I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other properly.”

Your suggestion is what leads the two of you to meet back up at your apartment after purchasing your respective groceries. You attempt to tidy up as best you can while you wait for the knock at your door, setting out all the ingredients on the counter and preheating your oven.

The soft knock comes moments later and you find yourself practically running to open the door, grinning at the sheepish expression on Juyeon’s face. You allow him inside of your apartment, trailing after him into the kitchen. Part of you felt like you were moving on too fast after Daehyun. As a baker, your kitchen was your safe space. It was where you went when you needed to be alone and in the comfort of what you knew best. Kevin and Changmin were the only ones you trusted to be within that element. For you to let Juyeon in— to let him permeate the walls you’ve never let down before, not even with your ex— was brand new territory.

“I almost forgot you own a bakery,” Juyeon speaks up, fingers tracing along the stand mixer. “But seeing all this expensive equipment reminded me of that. It only makes sense that someone as sweet as you would constantly be around sweet treats.”

You fail to bite back your smile. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor. He laughs when you nudge his shoulder, grabbing all the dry ingredients for the dough.

“On a scale of one to ten, how patient are you?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you open the flour. The question was in regards to several things.

“I’d say about an eight or nine. Patience is a virtue, you know. It comes easily if you practice hard enough.” He answers, leaning against the counter and watching you.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, searching for your measuring cups. Both you and Juyeon begin to measure out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. You decide to let him take some of the reins, folding in the mixture of milk, egg, butter, and yeast. While he does that, you prepare the cinnamon sugar.

“I think I’m done. What do I do next?” He turns to you, head cocked to the side slightly. You might actually die of cuteness aggression. The duality of man would one day drive you to the brink of insanity.

“Now you just knead it until it’s smooth.” Your back is to him as you say this, putting away any refrigerated items so they don’t go bad. But as you face him again, you wish you hadn’t.

Your eyes zero in on his hands, kneading the dough with careful, nimble fingers. You feel light-headed as you slip into a spell, gawking at how long and slender they are, massaging the dough like an expert. How had you never noticed how big and pretty his hands were?

Maybe baking with Juyeon was a bad idea. You could barely focus on anything but his fingers pressing the under-construction-cinnamon rolls into the counter. Oh how badly you wanted to be that dough— his hands all over you, groping and massaging and kneading and caressing everywhere they could reach.

The veins running up his arms weren’t helping either, instead fueling the fire burning in the pit of your stomach. You feel your lips part, eyes glossed over with that all too familiar lustful intensity. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to wipe away drool after this.

“Y/N?” Juyeon glances up from the dough, a little taken aback by your reverie. He follows your line of sight, grinning to himself smugly when he realizes what has you so transfixed. He’s finally found your weakness, and he couldn’t wait to dangle it over your head. Patience was a virtue, but perhaps it would be okay for him to dabble with a vice for once.

He pushes out the dough, using his thumbs to spread it into a rectangular shape. He feels his blood pressure rising the darker your eyes get. However, he’s aware that you just recently got out of a relationship. He wants to move at a pace you’re comfortable with. So he won’t take the first step. He has to leave that up to you.

It’s at a certain point that you come to, blinking to force away the dirty thoughts plaguing your mind. You travel your field of vision to his face, where you find him already looking at you. Your cheeks heat up in mortification from being caught red-handed. You were just gawking at the poor guy’s like they were a piece of fresh meat. This was terrible.

You swallow thickly, averting eye contact to grab the bowl of cinnamon sugar. “Uh, we can start forming the rolls now so they can rise. And then— um— and then we can make the glaze.”

The burn of his gaze on your profile has you tripping over your words, cinnamon sugar sprinkling onto the counter space surrounding and the knife almost slipping from your grip when you go to cut the dough. Juyeon catches it for you, wrapping his fingers around yours to guide your movements and keep them steady.

You feel his breath behind your ear, his chest pressed to your back. His hand is so much larger than your own, nearly covering it entirely. He doesn’t make an effort to move either, rolling the dough into swirl shapes along with you. The whole time this is happening, neither of you are saying a word, letting the silence consume you and the air around you.

As the rolls are rising/baking, you set up everything necessary for making the icing. Juyeon watches with hearts in his eyes as you whisk the sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, and butter in a separate bowl. He wonders how many other people you let see you in this setting. How many people get to see you do the thing you love so dearly?

“I’d like to visit your bakery sometime, if you wouldn’t mind,” Juyeon suddenly says, resting his elbows on the counter as you taste test the icing. “I wanna try all of the desserts you bake.”

“I’m opening later tomorrow morning actually,” you smile, humming in appreciation when the sweetness of the glaze hits your taste buds. “You can come with me to try the fresh batches before I put them out? I’ll warn you though, I get there at like six.”

“AM?” His eyes practically pop out of their sockets.

“Yes, AM.” You laugh, lightly shoving him backwards.

“I’ll put like ten alarms so I can make sure I’m up in time, then.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tipping his head to the side. The goofy smile on your face remains even after minutes have passed and the two of you are just waiting for the cinnamon rolls to finish baking.

It feels like hours have gone by with the two of you standing there when they’re finally ready. The ding of the oven has you springing into action, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the baking sheet. Juyeon's eyes light up and even though you’d just been losing your mind over how insane he was making you, you find yourself cooing at him.

He laughs as you grab a couple spare icing bags for the cinnamon roll glaze, filling them generously. You hand one over to him and decide to split the rolls evenly, icing one half yourself while he does the other. And for once, you think that tonight might end normally. You think that nothing eventful will happen and you’ll just ice the cinnamon rolls without problems.

But you were wrong, like always.

“Ah, shit—”

You glance up from the roll you were glazing to see what the fuss was about. Juyeon’s icing bag tore somehow, the sticky topping getting all over his hand. Truly, you were no better than a man, with the filthy thoughts inhabiting your brain almost instantaneously.

He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking the glaze off the back of his hand and wrapping his lips around his thumb. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sight of your extremely attractive neighbor doing something so sensual without even trying to. You bite your lip, accidentally dropping your own icing bag due to lack of attention.

Juyeon smirks slightly, relishing in the way it takes absolutely nothing to hypnotize you with his hands alone. He really tried to keep himself contained. He really wanted you to extend the first olive branch, but he knows you’re apprehensive. So just this once, he tells himself that it’s okay to initiate, to give you a little push in the right direction.

He takes a step closer to you, caging you against the counter. You stare up at him with wide, doe eyes, as if you were completely innocent despite the naughty images flashing behind them. Juyeon brings his thumb up to your lips, the pad of it still covered in icing.

“Think you could clean this up for me?” He asks, voice low and husky. You could actually combust with that all on its own.

Just like your formal introduction, you don’t give yourself the time to think, and act, instead, running your tongue along the length of his thumb. Juyeon doesn’t restrain the groan in the back of his throat, holding your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

You reciprocate immediately, fisting his hoodie like it was the only thing capable of stabilizing you. Maybe it was, with the way Juyeon’s lips synchronized with yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. You thought the ground would swallow you whole and wake you up from this dream. On what planet did someone like Lee Juyeon like a girl like you?

His hands slide down your body, groping everything in their path desperately before cupping under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter. He knocks the baking sheet of cinnamon rolls out of the way, palms rubbing up and down the sides of your legs. You want more, so much more, but you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid to start something you’re not even sure you can emotionally handle.

Juyeon senses your hesitation, detaching from you momentarily. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I understand if you still need time.”

“N-No, I want this— I want you— I'm just… scared.” You breathe, your forehead using his shoulder for support.

“I'm not him, Y/N. I can give you the world if you’d let me. I’d never do what he did to you, that’s a promise.” He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the crown of your head.

“Okay,” you nod, smiling up at him. “I trust you, Juyeon.”

You reconnect your lips as his fingers slip beneath your pajama shorts, toying with the waistband of your panties. His lips curl up when he feels you squirm, legs parting to make more room for him in the middle of them. You sigh, body shuddering when he drags his knuckle down your clothed slit.

Juyeon hooks his fingers into your shorts and underwear, hauling them down your legs. You place your hands behind you to brace yourself, a shiver trailing your spine when the cool air of your apartment hits your warm core. He groans again at the sight of you bare for him, using two fingers to spread your lower lips.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he swears, his thumb slowly circling your clit.

You whine, tossing your head back as he applies more pressure. Bit by bit, you begin to lose yourself to the pleasure of Juyeon’s gorgeous hands. Soon the stimulation on your clit amplifies when he adds another finger, thrusting it in and out of your entrance. He curls deep inside of you, like he was reaching for something he’d left.

One finger turns to two, and before you know it, Juyeon’s openly finger fucking you on the counter. He leans over your body to keep your lips together, kissing you sloppily while all his focus is on drawing you to the edge. You can almost taste it, your saccharine release in your field of vision now.

It’s a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to wind you up and trip you over the edge, but you feel too euphoric to care. You pause in your kiss to look down at his handy work. (No pun intended.) It makes your head feel foggy and your vision blurry to see his deft fingers fucking you open, veins bulging, like he’d done this many times before. Your hooded eyes follow them up his forearms, a whine escaping your lips.

A particular curl of his fingers and circle of his thumb have you clenching around him, creaming like you’d never had an orgasm in your life. He doesn’t slow his assault, bringing you down just to put you back up on that summit once again. The overstimulation has you cumming a second time in a matter of what felt like seconds, whimpers becoming voluminous moans.

Juyeon kisses you softly, gently pulling out his fingers to lick them clean like he did with the cinnamon roll glaze. A choked groan bubbles past your mouth, tossing an arm over your eyes. He laughs, towing you to the edge of the counter.

He brushes some stray hairs out of your face, moving your arm to smile dopily at you. “I hope you know I was being serious about the whole treating you better thing. If you’ll give me the chance.”

“I know. I told you I trust you, remember?” You nip at the inside of your cheek. His eyes crinkle up like they tend to do when he’s smiling so genuinely. It forces the wind out of you, because how could you ever get used to a sight so stunning?

“You’re so cute.” He laughs, kissing all around your face and smushing your cheeks together.

“Juyeon,” you mumble. “I’m half naked…”

“Even better,” he grins, pecking the tip of your nose. “Makes it that much easier to do all of the other things I wanna do to you.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[soombee]

merry christmas , please don’t call — sim jake ⋆⁺₊❅⋆

pairing ; sim jake (en-) x reader (s.her pronouns)

warnings / genre ; hurt no comfort , alcohol consumption (don’t do this!!!) , jake being a real man and yearning , idol smau , mentions of harm (metaphorical) , lmk if more!

word count ; ~8600 (8.6k words)

publish date ; dec 4, 2024

sypnosis, jake sim still aches for the love he let go, haunted by memories of you in every snowfall—well more like every day he breathes. though your breakup was for the best, he can’t stop yearning in silence, whispering love letters you’ll never hear.

perm tag list (open) ! @voikiraz (tysmily)

— inspired by “merry christmas, please don’t call” by bleachers ^^

an ; hai guys Sorry for this LOLLL i still love u i promise… but no this actually hurt me to write.. sorry for thr weak angst tho I HATE angst so much plz #ILoveComfort ily so much jake i would never leave u…. (But actually plz leave if your s/o acts likw this or never follows their words w actions!! a liar will always tell and never act!!) AND PLS DO NOT GET BACK W UR EX (if they hurt you) (if they didn’t do anything and they hit u up RUN BACK HOME!!!! IJBOL) (only if u want to ofc) (do not cheat) (never ever be like jake in this fic #istillloveyou #imsorry.) anyqays. Hope this fic isn’t too boring, enjoyyy!!! ☺️☺️

the snow fell in soft, silent sheets, muffling the world and its noise. the streets glittered under the warm glow of streetlights but jake felt none of the holiday cheer radiating around him. his feet moved on autopilot, crunching through the fresh layer of snow as he headed toward the cafe—the café

he hated himself for coming here. he’d avoided this place for months, knowing full well it was a minefield of memories—every corner of the space filled with you. but tonight, something had drawn him back. maybe it was the first snow, or maybe it was the loneliness creeping in, heightened by the christmas spirit

he pushed the door open, the warm air inside hitting him like a bittersweet embrace. the smell of fresh coffee and gingerbread filled his senses, and for a moment, he could almost pretend nothing had changed

Almost.

jake’s eyes automatically scanned the room, even though he knew you wouldn’t be there. you were probably across town, maybe even across the country, living your new life—the one you’d both agreed you needed. but that didn’t stop his heart from aching as he slid into the corner booth, the one you’d always claimed as yours, the one where you two had met.

the waitress came by, and he ordered black coffee. no frills, no sweetness. just black and bitter, like the ache in his chest that refused to fade

he sat back, letting his gaze drift to the window. outside, the snow swirled under the streetlights, mesmerizing in its quiet beauty. but jake wasn’t thinking about the snow. he was thinking about you.

he thought about how your hands used to curl around your own mug, fingers perpetually cold until he’d wrap his own around them, how he’d dance you in the dim light of the night and how you looked as beautiful as ever. he thought about the way your nose would scrunch when he teased you, or how your laughter used to fill this space, louder and brighter than any christmas song playing in the background

God, he missed that laugh

he missed everything about you. the way you’d insist on splitting a cinnamon roll even though you’d end up eating most of it. the way you’d lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you people-watched through the frosted glass. he even missed the arguments—the stupid, petty fights about nothing that always ended with you curled into his side, whispering soft apologies against his neck

jake ran a hand through his hair, biting down hard on his bottom lip. he hated how vivid the memories were, how they clawed at him even now, months after you’d walked away

no, that wasn’t fair. you hadn’t just walked away—you’d made the decision together. it had been mutual, logical. you’d both realized you were heading in different directions, that clinging to each other was only holding you back. you’d promised to let each other go, to grow, to heal

but jake wasn’t sure he’d healed at all

if anything, he felt stuck. he went through the motions—practice, performances, interviews, photoshoots. smiling for the cameras, playing the part. but behind closed doors, it was you he thought about when the silence crept in. It was your voice he longed to hear when he woke up in the middle of the night, reaching for someone who wasn’t there

the coffee arrived, and he wrapped his hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into his frozen fingers. he stared at the black liquid, the bitter aroma filling his lungs. he didn’t even like black coffee, not at all. you used to tease him about it, saying it didn’t suit his personality

“sim jaeyun, a golden retriever in human form, drinking something so bitter? you’d have to kill me to make me believe it,” you’d said with a laugh, stealing a sip from his cup before grimacing dramatically, “yuck, this is nasty!!!”

jake clenched his jaw, the ghost of your laughter ringing in his ears. he couldn’t count the number of times he’d caught himself replaying your voice in his head, as if the sound of it could bring you closer. it never worked, of course. the space between you had only grown more distant, the threads of your shared life unraveling into nothing but silly little memories

he stared out the window, the snow piling higher on the sidewalks. couples walked by, their faces illuminated by the golden glow of christmas lights. one of them reminded him of you—a girl tugging at her boyfriend’s scarf, laughing as he rolled his eyes and let her adjust it for him. it was the kind of small, meaningless moment he used to share with you

but now, jake didn’t have anyone adjusting his scarf. he barely wore one at all, the cold biting at his skin a welcome distraction from the pounding aches in his chest

his phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him back to the present. he pulled it out hesitantly, the screen lighting up with a notification. it wasn’t you—of course it wasn’t. it was just a message from jay, asking if he wanted to join the group for dinner later. jake didn’t reply. he couldn’t bring himself to face anyone tonight, not when the weight of you was still pressing down on him so heavily

his thumb hovered over your contact instead, the familiar name glaring back at him like a taunt. he shouldn’t. he couldn’t. you’d made it clear when you parted ways: no calls, no texts, no nothings. not because you didn’t care, but because you cared too much. staying in each other’s lives would have been too painful, a constant reminder of what you had both lost

but God, did he want to hear your voice.

“merry christmas, please don’t call,” he muttered under his breath, echoing the line from the song that had been haunting him all night. he set the phone face down on the table, resisting the urge to do something he’d later regret

the truth was, he didn’t even know what he’d say if you picked up. would he tell you he missed you? that he still kept the scarf you left at his apartment, buried in the back of his closet because he couldn’t bring himself to throw it out? that every time he heard your favorite song, he had to leave the room because it made his chest tighten with longing?

jake laughed bitterly, shaking his head. none of it would matter. you were gone, and no amount of yearning could bring you back

the café was quieter now, the other customers leaving as the evening wore on. jake drained the last of his coffee, the bitterness lingering on his tongue. he left a few bills on the table and stood, his legs feeling heavier than they should

outside, the snow was laying thicker, coating the world in white. it was beautiful, he supposed, but it only made the city feel emptier

as he walked down the street, the cold seeped through his coat, but he didn’t care. his thoughts were stuck on you, on what could have been if things had been different. if he’d fought harder. if you’d stayed.

but life wasn’t “the notebook,” there were no miracles waiting to reunite you. the was only the cold, and the loneliness, and the silence

jake reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone again. his thumb hovered over your name one last time before he let out a shaky breath and put it back in his pocket

“merry christmas,” he whispered to the empty street. “i hope you’re happy.”

with that, he kept walking, his figure disappearing into the snowfall, the quiet yearning in his heart a burden he’d carry alone—do you still think of me?

flashback — beginning of the end

his absence wasn’t sudden—it never was. it began to stretch further and further. at first, you’d see him four or five days a week, then three. then there were weeks when you could count the hours he was home on one hand

you adjusted, at least outwardly. you stopped waiting up for him, stopped asking if he’d be home for dinner. every time you thought to reach out, his familiar excuses echoed in your mind:

jakey jakey: sorry baby, new album soon. promise i’ll make it up to you, i love you!

but his words felt emptier with every passing week.

sometimes, you’d sit on the couch with your phone in your hand, staring at his contact name and wondering if it was worth calling. would he even pick up? if he did, what would you say?

i miss you.

i can’t keep doing this.

come home.

instead, you swallowed your words and let the silence stretch on.

to cope, you tried to fill the spaces he left behind

you threw yourself into work, taking on extra projects to keep your mind busy. you reconnected with old friends, meeting up for coffee or weekend brunches that helped ease the ache, even if only for a little while. you even had time to travel to australia to visit your in-laws.

but no matter how much you tried to distract yourself, the loneliness always crept back in. it lingered in the empty apartment, in the untouched leftovers in the fridge, in the cold side of the bed where jake used to sleep.

your friends noticed, too.

“you okay?” one of them asked over lunch one day

you forced a smile, “mhm, just busy, yk?”

“have you seen Jake lately?”

the question hit harder than you expected. You hesitated before answering,

“not as much as I’d like.”

they exchanged a look, one you couldn’t quite decipher, but they didn’t press further

when you got home that evening, you sat in the quiet and wondered if this was your life now: always waiting, always wondering, always pretending everything was fine

you told yourself it was temporary.

jake had always been ambitious—relentlessly so—and you admired that about him. he’d fought days and nights of exhaustion to get to where he was, pouring his blood, sweat, and tears into a career that demanded everything and more from him

you had to understand that.

when he missed date night for a sudden meeting, you reminded yourself of how hard he worked to provide for a future you both dreamed about. you pictured the life he talked about during quiet nights: a cozy home, maybe with the children you two had planned on having, vacations to places you’d only seen in magazines. this was just a temporary sacrifice, you told yourself. he was doing it for you. for both of you.

on your anniversary, when he texted to say he was stuck at the building again, you tried not to let the hurt show. you prepared the dinner anyway—all of his favorite meals—lighting the candles and sitting at the table long after the food had gone cold

when he finally called, voice strained and full of apologies, you smiled through the disappointment,

“haha it’s okay, my love. i know you’re busy.”

“next time,” he promised, “i’ll make it up to you.”

you wanted to believe him.

and when the missed dinners and canceled plans piled up, you clung to the hope that all of it—the sacrifices, the empty nights, the growing distance—was worth it, he’s a rising star!

he’s doing this for us, you repeated like a mantra, even as the cracks in your heart grew deeper. stop being so selfish, yn. he loves you, he’s doing this for us.

but as the months passed, those words began to feel like a lie and you wondered how much more of yourself you could give before there was nothing left.

your birthday came — jake promised to surprise you. everything should have been perfect.

he had planned everything down to the smallest detail. he’d listened when you talked about how much you missed those intimate dinners, the quiet moments when time seemed to slow. he remembered every little thing you liked and disliked, and he had worked tirelessly to make this birthday different—to make up for the forgotten anniversaries, the unspoken words, the promises made in the heat of passion and quickly broken in the cold rush of reality.

a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. a small, decadent cake with the kind of frosting you loved, not too sweet but perfectly balanced. a handwritten letter, each word carefully chosen to remind you of all the reasons why he loves you, of all the reasons why you had been the light in his life for so long, of all the words he could not say to you.

but none of it happened the way Jake had envisioned..

you sat on your couch, hands gripping the edges of your phone, staring at the screen as the minutes ticked by. 5:30 pm—the time you had agreed upon. that was when you expected him to arrive. that promised. promised it would be different this time but as the hands of the clock seemed to mock you, you knew deep down that this night was going to be just like every other—every single one of the nights you had spent waiting for him.

the dinner you’d prepared, with love and care, now sat on the table, cold and untouched. the candles you had lit to set the mood flickered softly in the silence of the room, their light casting long shadows on the walls.

you sent another message,

“baby, where are you?”

the response came minutes later.

“running behind, something came up at the studio. be there soon, i promise lovely.”

you stared at the screen, your heart sinking. ‘be there soon..’ you had heard that so many times, but it had never meant anything. he had always said the same thing, always claimed he was on his way, and yet it felt like you were always the one who waited. always the one left behind

you placed your phone on the table, willing yourself not to cry. but it wasn’t about the tears anymore. it was the disappointment. the frustration. the pain that had built up over weeks, months even, as his promises piled up like empty words

an hour passed. another message.

“so sorry, baby. still at the studio. it’s running late.”

at the studio. Again.

it had been weeks since you had gone out to dinner together without something getting in the way. his job, his career, his ambitions—they always took precedence. you understood that, you told yourself. you’d been patient, supportive, waiting quietly for him to balance things out, to see you the way you needed to be seen.

but now? now, you were beginning to wonder if he even saw you anymore, if he even thought about you

when the door finally opened, it felt like the moment you’d been waiting for all night was anticlimactic

jake stepped in, his coat dripping water onto the floor, his face twisted with guilt and exhaustion. his eyes were wide with that apologetic look, but it wasn’t enough. not anymore. the bouquet of flowers he held in his hands was a sad excuse—wilting, pale, as if the gesture itself had already been rotten

“i’m so sorry i’m late baby,” he began, the words rushed as if they were rehearsed,“there was this thing at the studio, and—”

you couldn’t take it anymore

“do you even care?” the words came out harsher than you expected, filled with raw, unfiltered emotion

jake froze

you could see the way his breath hitched, the way his hands tightened around the flowers as if they were the only thing grounding him to the present moment—even though the thorns from its stems found its way into his skin. he looked so lost. so helpless.

his mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. you could see the panic in his eyes—the kind of panic that came from knowing he had already failed. but still, he reached for you, as if that would solve everything. as if the gesture alone could erase the months of distance between you two

but you weren’t willing to forgive him, not this time. not when your heart ached too much for you to pretend that things were okay anymore

“are you serious?” you laughed, but it wasn’t funny. it was bitter,

“every time i think it’s getting better, you pull this shit. i’m always waiting. always. and you’re never here. NEVER present. You’re just like my fucking dad, jake.”

his face paled, his eyes flickering to the table where the cold meal sat untouched, the cake you had baked slowly sinking into itself, the flickering candles an eerie reminder of how much time had passed,

“i swear i didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said, but the words felt hollow, like they were coming from a place where regret was no longer enough to fix anything, “i swear i was going to—”

“it’s always your words and never your actions. what? you thought i would be okay with this?” your voice broke then, the weight of your frustration cracking through the veneer of control you had been holding onto all evening,

“that I would just understand? you’ve been promising me for weeks, jake. weeks! and all you do is disappoint me. i don’t even know who i’m waiting for anymore”

his face twisted with guilt. he wanted to reach for you, to pull you into his arms, to apologize until it made everything better, to reassure you that he was still the jake that you fell for, but he knew he couldn’t. he knew the distance between you wasn’t something he could close with a hug or a few empty words.

“i love you,” he said quietly, his voice full of desperation, as though that would be enough

you flinched at the words, like a punch to the gut. you love him too, but love didn’t fix this. love didn’t heal the broken parts of you that had cracked under the weight of his absence.

you shook your head. “i used to believe you. i really did.”

jake’s eyes watered at your words, his throat tightening as if he was on the verge of breaking down, but you couldn’t bring yourself to comfort him anymore. not when you were drowning in your own hurt, drowning in a flood caused by him

“you don’t even know how much this hurts,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “i’ve been waiting for so long, and all you ever do is show up when it’s too late.”

the silence between you was suffocating, the air thick with things unsaid, feelings that had been buried too deep for too long. jake opened his mouth to speak, but you raised a hand to stop him

“jake please,” you said softly, each word feeling like a finality you had been avoiding for months. “i can’t do this anymore.”

he staggered back, as if you had slapped him, the weight of your words landing like a punch to his chest. he opened his mouth to say something, but it was clear that nothing could undo what had been done

“i’m sorry. i really am,” he murmured

but you couldn’t hear him. not anymore. the door was closing, slowly but surely, and he was too late to stop it

you turned your back to him, taking deep breaths, fighting to keep your composure. you couldn’t stay in this room with him any longer. not when everything had become a reminder of his neglect. not when the warmth you had once shared had been replaced by this suffocating cold

“please…just go,” you said, voice breaking as you finally let the tears fall

he hesitated, as if waiting for you to change your mind. but when you didn’t, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in your heart

and in the stillness of your apartment, you realized you were alone.

hours later, after he had left, you sat in the quiet of the dark apartment, the remnants of your birthday still scattered around you—half-eaten food, the stale cake, the wilted flowers. you had always been told that love was supposed to feel like home, but all you felt now was the emptiness of it

the day it finally ended.. oh it was heartbreaking.

it was late, nearing three am, when jake arrived at the apartment. you were laying down on the couch, hands curled beneath your head, waiting patiently in the cold. the sound of his keys jingling in the door used to fill you with relief, but tonight it only brought dread of whats to come next

jake stepped inside, his shoulders slumped, dark circles beneath his eyes. he paused when he saw you drifting to sleep, your face lit only by the dim glow of a nearby lamp

“hi baby, why are you still up?” he asked, his voice tentative, he kisses your head

“i needed to talk to you,” you said, sitting upc keeping your voice steady—though your chest felt like it was already caving in.

he kicked off his shoes, setting down his bag. “can it wait? it’s been a long day—”

“no.”

that one word was enough to stop him in his tracks. he looked at you properly then, his brows furrowing as he took in the tense set of your shoulders, the tight grip you had on your thigh.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, though you both already knew the answer

you took a deep breath, your throat tight, “jake, we can’t keep doing this.”

he froze, his hands hovering over the back of his head, “..doing what?”

“this,” you said, motioning to the space between you. “pretending that everything’s okay. pretending that we’re okay.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to argue against the idea. but then his shoulders sagged, and he sat down across beside you, his movements slow and deliberate

“i know i’ve been distant,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper, “but i swear i’m trying to get everything done as fast as possible, love.”

you shook your head, tears already pooling in your eyes, “you’ve been saying that for months, yun. and i’ve been so. patient. i’ve been waiting for you to come home, to show up, to prove that we still mean something to you. but you never do.”

“that’s not fair,” he said, his voice breaking, “you know how hard they’ve been making me work. you know how much this career means to me.”

“and what about me?” you shot back, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “what about us? don’t we mean anything to you anymore?”

his silence was deafening.

“jake,” you continued, your voice trembling, “i’ve been here since the beginning, holding on, hoping things would get better. but they’re not. and i don’t think they ever will.”

his head dropped into his hands, and for the first time, you saw him break

“please,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “please don’t do this.” he held your face with grace, not wanting to hurt you even more

your heart shattered at the sound of his desperation and the look of defeat on his face, oh your poor baby had tears in his eyes. but you forced yourself to stay strong, “i don’t want this either. but i can’t keep holding on to someone who’s never here. i can’t keep chasing for someone who won’t wait for me.”

he looked away then, his eyes red and glossy. “you’re everything to me. don’t you see that? everything i’m doing—it’s for our future. i want to give you everything you want in life.”

“but what’s the point of a future,” you said, your voice heavy with sorrow, “if we can’t even make it through the present, jake?”

you stood up after wiping his tears, “i love you jake but i’m hurting, i can’t stay with someone who’s never there to comfort me.”

and with that, you disappeared into the depths of your shared room.

the next morning, jake was gone before you woke up—7:39 am, he had only slept for 4 hours..? he left a note on the kitchen counter, scrawled in his messy handwriting:

“I’m sorry.”

that was it. no explanation, no promises to try harder. just two words that felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

you couldn’t take it anymore.. you couldn’t take his empty words and promises anymore.

by the time he came back that evening, the apartment was empty. your clothes were gone, your toothbrush missing from its place by his. you didn’t leave a note—what was there left to say?

jake sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the now-bare dresser where your framed photo once stood. his phone buzzed in his pocket, but he didn’t bother to check it. he already knew it wasn’t you, why would it be you?

he couldn’t bare the emptiness of the space.

that night, he called his mother. the moment her face appeared on the screen, her warm smile faltered at the sight of him.

“jake? what’s wrong, mom’s sweetie?”

and that was all it took. his facade crumbled, and the tears came before he could even speak

“she’s gone, mom,” he choked out, his voice barely audible

his mother’s face softened with concern, “oh, baby…”

“i tried,” he continued, his words tumbling over one another. “i tried to balance everything—to make her happy, to make this work, to keep my career. but i couldn’t. i couldn’t give her what she needed.

“did you talk to her?” his mother asked gently

jake shook his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand, “what could I say? that i’m sorry? that i’ll do better? i’ve said those things a hundred times, and it was never enough.”

his mother’s face flickered with sadness, her heart aching for her son. she wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms, to hold him the way she had when he was little and scraped his knees on the playground but she couldn’t reach him through the screen.

“jaeyun,” she said gently, “you’ve been carrying so much on your shoulders. you’ve always worked so hard—for your career, for the people you love. but sometimes, love isn’t about how hard you try. it’s about being there and it sounds like that’s what dear yn needed most.”

“i know,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i know, but i couldn’t.. i thought i was doing the right thing but now she’s gone and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know if I can fix it—“

his mother let out a soft sigh, her expression pained. “sweetie, listen to me. it’s okay to grieve, to feel like you’ve failed. but you can’t carry this alone. you need to let yourself feel it, even if it hurts. you need to take time for yourself, for your heart”

jake nodded weakly but his chest ached with the knowledge that time wouldn’t bring you back,

“i miss her,” he admitted, his voice breaking again, just like his prepubescent days, “i miss her so much, mom. i don’t know how to do this without her”

“you’re stronger than you think,” she replied, her voice steady but filled with love, “but that doesn’t mean you have to do it all on your own. lwan on the people who care about you—your members, your friends. and if you ever need mom, i’m here.”

those words should have comforted him, but they only made him feel the distance more acutely. she wasn’t in korea, she was thousands of kilometers away, he couldn’t just drive over to see her, to collapse into her arms and let her stroke his hair the way she used to when he got scared of thunder striking,

“i wish i could be there,” he said, his voice trembling, “i wish i could just… come home and stay there forever.”

his mother’s expression softened, tears shining in her eyes. “i wish you could, too. but always remember why you moved back to korea, to achieve your dreams.. but still, i’m always with you, jaeyun. always.”

it wasn’t enough—not really. he needed her here, needed to feel her arms around him, needed her to tell him everything would be okay even if it felt like his entire world was crumbling but he nodded anyway. he agreed, knowing there was nothing else to say, nothing else could be said

“thank you, mom,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from all the recordings, melt downs, dehydration.

“take care of yourself, sweetheart,” she replied, “don’t forget that i love you always.”

“i love you, too,” Jake said, his voice breaking again as he ended the call, the screen going dark

jake stared at his reflection in the blank screen for a long moment, his face blotchy and tear-streaked, eyes red and swollen. he dropped the phone onto the couch beside him, burying his face in his hands as another wave of grief hit him—you were gone.

the comfort he sought was so close yet unreachable. his mother’s words lingered in his mind, warm and full of love, but they couldn’t bridge the thousands of miles between them. he felt like a child again, crying out for someone to make the pain stop, but no one could.

he sank further into the couch, the silence of the apartment pressing down on him. it was unbearable. everywhere he looked, there were memories of you—the book you’d left on the coffee table, your favorite mug still sitting in the cupboard, the blanket on the couch you always used when you curled up to watch movies together..

he thought of how you used to hum absentmindedly in the kitchen, how you’d lean against the counter and laugh at his attempts to help, how he’d always hug you from behind while you were cooking. he thought of the way you’d smile at him, soft and full of love, as if he were the only thing that mattered in the world,

but now, you were gone.

he clutched the throw pillow to his chest, as if holding onto it could somehow bring you back. he wanted to scream, to break something, to do anything that might ease the ache in his chest but all he could do was sit there and drown in his own regret

jake had always prided himself on being strong, on enduring whatever life threw at him, but this? this was different. this was the kind of pain that seeped into every corner of his being, leaving him hollow and exhausted.

he wanted to call you, to beg for another chance, to promise he’d do better. But he knew it wouldn’t change anything. you’d tried—both of you had—and it still hadn’t been enough.

so he sat there, alone, in the dark, heart aching for a love he could no longer hold onto.

—

jake spent the next few weeks wandering through his days in a haze. the apartment felt impossibly quiet without you there, your absence a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

he drowned himself with work, staying late at the studio until exhaustion forced him to stop. although no matter how busy he kept himself, the emptiness remained

some nights, he found himself sitting by the window, clutching the small, crumpled note you’d once written to him: “i’ll never stop loving you, i will love you until we both become food for soil!!”

but now, he wasn’t yours to love anymore.

and that realization hurt more than anything else.

days without you blurred into weeks, and the weeks into months. but for your ex lover, time didn’t heal—it only deepened the wound, pressing onto it with a sharper blade. you were everywhere, not just in the apartment you’d once shared but in the life you continued living without him.

each of your milestones became a ghost that haunted him, milestones he had once imagined celebrating by your side. now, they were moments he had to watch from afar, each one a bittersweet mix of pride and pain, leaving him both in awe of your resilience and hollowed by his absence from your joy.

your birthday. don’t even get jake started on your birthday.

he had always loved your birthdays—well, before the idol like exhausted him. he used to make them extravagant, treating the day like a sacred holiday meant for only the two of you. he remembered how your eyes lit up at the smallest details—a handwritten note tucked under your pillow, a trail of flower petals from your once-shared bedroom all the way to the kitchen table, breakfast already made for you, the way he’d stay up until midnight just to be the first to wish you everything you’ve been working towards

but this year was different.

jake found out about your celebration through a tagged photo on social media. you were at a cozy rooftop party surrounded by your beloved friends, the city skyline twinkling in the background. yog were smiling, radiant as ever, holding a cupcake with a single swirly candle

he couldn’t stop staring at the screen, fingers frozen over his phone as he scrolled through the pictures. he noticed how your smile was the same one he used to know—bright, genuine—but there was something missing. or maybe it was just him, searching for a version of you that didn’t exist anymore, searching for a hint of sadness in you.

he typed a message, the words “happy birthday, I hope you’re doing well” sitting in the text box. but before he could press send, his own voice echoed in his mind, bitter and sharp:

happy birthday. please don’t call.

his chest tightened as he deleted the message. you didn’t need him ruining your special day. he put the phone down, but the images of you celebrating stayed in his mind, vivid and unrelenting. for the rest of the night, he sat at the piano, fingers moving across the keys as he tried to compose something—anything—to capture the ache in his chest but all that his fingers memorized were the chords of your favorite song.

by morning, the only words he had written were:

i love you. i’m sorry.

a few months later — one year after your break up.

jake knew today was special. he didn’t need to see pictures to know you’d graduated. he remembered the date from when you used to talk about it, lying next to him in bed, your voice filled with hope and determination,

“i can’t wait for you to see me walk across that stage with aaaalll my chords, sashes, and medals,” you’d said, your head resting on his chest. “i’ll probably trip, though..”

he’d laugh, kissing the top of your head,

“i’ll catch you if you do”

the thought twisted in his chest now, bitter and hollow. he wasn’t there to catch you—not at your ceremony, not in your life. he wondered if someone else had stepped into that role.. no. nevermind. that thought hurt to imagine.. it hurt a little too much.

he found himself scrolling through old photos on his phone, landing on one of you in his hoodie, hair messy, glasses perched on your nose as you furiously typed away at your laptop. you were studying for finals, the faintest scowl on your lips

“i don’t know why i’m doing this,” you’d muttered, frustrated

“because you’re amazing,” jake had replied without hesitation, “and you’re gonna be the best (profession of choice) out there”

now, he stared at the picture until his vision blurred. you had achieved your dream after years of education, just like you always said you would. he wanted to tell you how proud he was, how he’d always believed in you, how he’d always be your biggest fan.

but all he could whisper into the silence was:

“congratulations. please don’t call.”

“i’m proud of you. please don’t call.”

—

it was easy for you to find a starting job in your career dud to your impressive statistics.

when jake saw the announcement, it was like a punch to the gut. someone had shared your linkedin update—a smiling picture of you holding a nameplate for your new job. the caption was simple, professional, but it felt like a dagger:

“i’m officially licensed hehe”

the brunette stared at the photo for what felt like hours, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. he was proud of you—of course he was. he’d always known how capable and brilliant you were, but the pride was laced with a sharp, unbearable ache.

he couldn’t stop the flood of memories—thinking about the nights you spent on his couch, head buried in job applications, chewing on the end of your pen as you stressed over every word. he remembered your hopeful smile when you got that first interview call and how you’d hugged him so tight he could barely breathe when you told him the good news.

jake used to imagine this moment—your first big girl job, your first step into the career you’d worked so hard for. but in every version of that memory, he was there to celebrate with you. he’d pictured himself popping champagne in your apartment, pulling you into a kiss as he told you how proud he was.

instead, he sat in his empty apartment, staring at a screen. the message he wanted to send formed in his mind: i always knew you’d get there, my love. you deserve this.

but then, like a reflex, the bitter echo followed:

please don’t call.

his phone buzzed with a notification—another congratulations for you from a mutual friend. He muted the conversation. it wasn’t jealousy; it was the sinking realization that the version of your future he’d envisioned, where he stood beside you every step of the way, was gone.

later that night, jake sat down, pen and paper in hand, writing absentmindedly. mind soft, full of you and how proud he was:

“congratulations on your first job.

i knew you’d get there.

i knew you’d shine.

but please don’t call.

i’m proud of you.

please don’t call.”

his fingers cracked on the last line, and he put the pen down, pressing his palms into his eyes to stop the tears.

as he stopped writing, he decided to pick up his guitar, the melody so melancholic and raw.

the lyrics he’d written—unfinished and full of longing—stayed with him. you slipped into his music, weaving through the melodies he created, even when he didn’t mean for them to. the studio became both a sanctuary and a battlefield.

his bandmates noticed the shift. he was quieter during rehearsals, distracted during dance practices, often lost in thought. when he sang, his voice carried a weight it hadn’t before—a deep sadness that even they couldn’t ignore.

one night, alone in the studio, jake finally recorded a song. the verses described every aspect of yours he’d missed: your kindness, thoughtfulness, your gentle face, your everything. each line was a love letter wrapped in pain, a confession he could never send.

by the end of the recording, his voice broke completely. the final line lingered in the empty room, his whisper barely audible:

“one ticket out of your heavy gaze

I want one ticket off of your carousel

I want one ticket out of your heavy gaze

I want one ticket off of your carousel”

jake didn’t know if the song would ever see the light of day. it wasn’t meant for anyone else but himself. it was his way of holding onto whatever he had left of you, even as the world forced him to let go.

and yet, as he sat in the silent studio, he couldn’t help but wish—just once—that you would listen to his song anyway.

years later — he hasn’t heard from you in a while, maybe he was finally healing after years of hurt..?

** ding..!!

oh! oh? ….oh.

“yes to forever!!” your instagram post captioned

it was simple—just a picture of your hand intertwined with someone else’s, a gleaming ring on your finger

the world seemed to tilt as he stared at the photo. his vision blurred, the edges of the screen fading into a dull haze. for a moment, he thought it was a joke, a misunderstanding, or maybe just a bad dream!! he rubs his eyes, no. no no no—there it was, still clear and undeniable, he could feel every pinch his fingers inflicted

jake didn’t breathe. he couldn’t.

he clutched his phone tighter, as though crushing the image into oblivion would erase this event. but the picture stayed, unwavering, a testament to the reality he’d spent years dreading. you were moving on..?

he had flashbacks of the future he’d once imagined.

there had been a time when jake couldn’t picture his life without you. you’d once lain together under a canopy of stars and fireflies, his hand in yours, as you talked about the future—two kids, one pet, and a happy life with each other.

“what kind of wedding do you want?” he had asked, his voice soft and full of promise

you had laughed, rolling onto your side to face him. “something small and intimate. just our close friends and family. i don’t need anything big as long as i’m with you”

he smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “i’ll make it perfect.”

he had imagined that day so vividly. you in white, walking toward him, the room filled with music he had handwritten just for you. he’d imagined the vows he’d whisper, promises he’d spend a lifetime keeping. and he’d imagined forever with you—a future where he could hold your hand until the very end

now, that future belonged to someone else. someone deserving of your love.

he didn’t want to know when your wedding day was set. no, he didn’t want to know anything about you at all. but fate had a cruel sense of humor. he overheard it in passing from a mutual friend, who mentioned it like it was just another piece of small talk.

the day arrived like a storm, unrelenting and heavy. jake woke up early, his chest tight and his mind racing. every hour felt like a countdown, each second pulling him closer to the inevitable

by noon, he was in the studio, in meetings, in talkshows trying to drown his thoughts in work. but even his industry betrayed him. everything reminded him of you, of the songs you used to hum while he played, of the melodies you inspired, of talkshows you’d talk about

he couldn’t escape you.

as the evening rolled around, jake found himself sitting on the floor of his apartment, a glass of liquor in hand. his phone lay beside him, the screen dark, but he couldn’t stop staring at it. he wondered what you were doing at that exact moment.

were you walking down the aisle? were you kissing his lips? were you happy?

jake’s throat tightened as he imagined it—the soft rustle of fabric as you stepped forward, the way your smile must have lit up the room. he pictured your hands trembling slightly as they always did when you were nervous, and then he imagined someone else holding those hands steady

someone who wasn’t him.

the thought sent a sharp ache through his chest. he tried to take another sip of whiskey but his hand shook so badly that the liquid sloshed over the edge of the glass. setting it down, he pressed his palms into his eyes, as if that could stop the flood of images rushing through his mind.

he could almost hear your laugh, soft and bright, as you said I do. as you committed the rest of your life with a random guy.

jake leaned back against the wall, head tilted toward the ceiling. he’d let his mind drift to the promises he once rehearsed in secret, words he thought he’d say to you on your wedding day.

“i promise to never let you doubt how much i love you. i promise to be your biggest supporter, your greatest comfort, your forever.”

he’d practiced them countless times, sometimes whispering them into your ears as you drowned in the quiet night, other times writing them out in notebooks he still couldn’t bear to throw away

but those promises never left his lips. instead, someone else had taken the vows that should have been his. someone else got to stand where he always thought he’d be,

his memories collided.

the hours dragged on, and jake was helpless to stop himself from scrolling through every post, every picture that filtered onto his feed. he saw the smiling faces of your friends, the decorations you’d once described as your dream aesthetic, and then, finally, he saw you

you were breathtaking, just as he’d always imagined. the way your dress flowed around you, the soft light catching on your features—it was like a snapshot from his dreams. only now, the man beside you wasn’t him.

jake didn’t realize he was crying until a tear splashed onto his phone screen. he swiped it away angrily, but the flood wouldn’t stop. his breaths came in shallow gasps, his chest heaving under the weight of his grief,

he tried to rationalize it. he told himself this was for the best, that you deserved happiness—even if it wasn’t with him but the logic couldn’t touch the deep, raw ache in his heart.

he seeked so much comfort.

jake reached for his phone and dialed his mother. it rang twice before her familiar voice answered,

“Hello my sweetie”

hearing her almost broke him completely. he clutched the phone tightly, his voice trembling as he spoke. “mom… i—i don’t know what to do.”

“what’s wrong, jaeyunie?” her tone was soft, laced with concern

he hesitated. he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. couldn’t tell her that the person he loved more than forever was now promising forever to someone else

instead, his words came out broken and vague. “i just.. i feel like i’m losing everything.”

“oh, jake.” her voice cracked slightly, and he could picture her, thousands of miles away in brisbane, wishing she could reach out and hold him. “i’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.”

“i want to come home,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i just want to see you. i need to see you.”

“i wish you could, too,” she said gently. “but you’re strong, jake. i know you are. stay in korea for yourself”

he nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. the words were comforting in their own way, but they didn’t ease the pain gnawing at him. nothing ever could.

“i’ll be okay,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it. “i just.. i just don’t know how to let go.”

there was a long pause on the other end of the line. when his mother spoke again, her voice was thick with the weight of unspoken words,

“i know, son, i know”

jake closed his eyes, letting the silence hang between them for a moment before he whispered, “i wish i was there with her. i was supposed to be the one beside her today.”

his mother sighed, a sound full of both sympathy and sorrow, “you know it’s not always about being there physically, jake, but I understand.. it’s hard to let go when you’re still holding onto the dream you built in your heart.”

he swallowed hard, the tightness in his throat making it difficult to speak. “i thought she was the one. I thought we had a future. and now, i don’t know what i’m supposed to do with all of this… all these feelings, and she’s… she’s not even thinking of me anymore”

his mother’s voice softened. “I know. but maybe.. maybe you’ve been holding onto a version of her that’s no longer yours. people change, sweetheart. and so do relationships.”

jake stared blankly at the wall, letting the words settle in, but they didn’t make him feel any better. in fact, they only made him feel more lost, more alone. he knew it was true, of course—he’d seen it happening slowly over the past months. But to hear it spoken out loud made the truth more final, more undeniable,

“i just don’t know how to say goodbye..” his voice cracked, a sob he couldn’t hold back rising in his chest,

“i know, darling,” she replied softly. “but sometimes, saying goodbye is the only way to set both of you free”

oh….. i hate everything about goodbyes.

the night wore on and jake found himself unable to move, still sitting in the same spot. the wedding pictures had all but burned themselves into his memory, and he couldn’t look away from them. he wanted to scream, to shout, to curse the world for taking you away from him—but he couldn’t. instead, he just let the tears flow freely, as if every drop of sadness, of regret, was somehow washing away the person he used to be.

as the clock ticked past midnight, his phone buzzed again. it was a message from a group chat with his bandmates, and he briefly considered ignoring it. but then he saw it: a single notification from.. you..?

“Hi Jake!! God, I’m sorry. I wanted to reach out sooner because we’ve just been soo apart for a while, and I’m not sure if this is the right time to say this but, I just wanted to say… thank you for everything. You helped me become who I am today.”

he stared at the message with his heart in the pits of his stomach for several long moments, feeling the weight of each word press against his chest. the ache deepened. you had moved on—fully, completely—and here he was, stuck in the past, unable to let go.

it was almost cruel the way your message made him feel both grateful and shattered at the same time. you were happy. you had your life, your future. you had someone who would be there for you in ways he never could be anymore.

his thumb hovered over the screen, but no words came. what could he possibly say? what could he say to someone who no longer needed him?

I still love you.

He deleted it.

the words stayed with him. the line, the thin thread of hope that still clung to his heart, even though he knew better.

jake sat in the dark of his apartment, the echoes of your wedding day still fresh in his mind, and then, finally, he reached for his phone again. his fingers shook as he typed out a message to you—one he knew he should never send but couldn’t stop himself from writing

he pressed send before he could second-guess himself, but almost immediately, regret filled him. his eyes were glued at the message for a long time, his heart pounding in his chest. it was too much. he couldn’t expect you to do so, to follow his message. not when you had worked so hard and moved on to a future that didn’t include him

the notification buzzed back with the “delivered” mark

and yet, he held onto that one shred of hope—just for a second, just for a moment—wondering if, somehow, you would come back. maybe not now, but someday.

he closed his eyes, the weight of the words still heavy in his chest. and with a single, painful exhale, he let go.

“Congratulations on your wedding. Please call me.”

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[zhng96]

8:12PM — shen ricky

↳ req: this may be kind of specific butttttt can u do a ricky onehsot where he’s been busy w work and he forgot that he has a date w u, and he arrives late then the rest is up to uu

↳ pairing: shen quanrui x gn!reader

↳ warnings: angst to fluff!! also comfort lolll, reader feel insecure at the beginning, ricky misses a date

perm taglist (open): @tzuberry @hrtattcker @yueriots @neohyxn @avocarua @dwcljh

ricky has never been anything short of a great boyfriend. he was attentive, cared so much about you and showed through his affectionate words, constantly checked up on you and all in all made you feel every ounce of love you deserved- today was just... an off day.

you knew that he was busy; when they called, he had to answer. but a promise is also a promise, and this has been the very first time that he's broken one.

there you sat, dateless at a fancy restaurant in the downtown area of the city.

despite knowing that ricky could easily afford to take you here, you found it quite hard to fit in. your eyes darted around the restaurant, finding well-cleaned-up families, and women with hundred-dollar dresses, with their dates who dressed along the same price tag.

a sudden guilt errodes your brain- ricky was the only reason you were able to make a reservation here, where you leaching off of your boyfriend? albeit the hurt caused by the man in question due to missing your date, the thought still consumes you whole and eats up at your concious.

(more under the cut !)

nodding to yourself, you finally take a stand and walk around the circular table meant for two- which only ended up sitting one for about an hour. you give a curt yet embarassing nod to the waiter, whose eyes lingered on your figure, their pitious gaze punctured your being as she continued to watch you walk out of their restuarant shamefully.

hailing a cab over, you open the door before thanking him, hopping into the backseat and sheepishly telling him your address.

as if the driver knew of your current predicament, he keeps glancing at the rear view mirror, causing you to shift uncomfortably in your spot. you could sense the burning question lighting up the tip of his tongue but also the hesitation that singed his lips.

however, he chose against asking the question, making you forever grateful.

stopping in front of your complex, you thank him, handing him over your cash before leaving. the breath of fresh air once you exit offers no relief and you sluggishly walk through your entrance and into the elevator to make it home.

just as excited as you were to go on this date, you were now just as excited to jump into bed and sleep your emotions away- but your were met with a familiar face as the elevator doors slide open.

a bleach blonde makes it's way into your vision as the elevator doors slide open and ricky looks at you in shock.

seeing the way his tie is messily done, a pinch of his shirt untucked from his pants and his face in distress- every emotion crashes through your body all at once.

"oh." was all you could muster as you try to fight the tears that rimmed your eyes.

"yn, i'm so sorry. i tried to come, i was just on my way- i'm so sorry you had to wait that long-" his apologies were quickly cut off by you stepping through the passageway of the elevator, taking his torso into an embrace.

he tenses for a brief moment before relaxing, his arms circling around the upper half of your frame.

"you made me wait for an hour... the waiters even knew what happened and i didn't have to tell them... my taxi driver too... god, it's so embarrassing."

the blonde winces at your sobs, his guilt now overflowing- every sob adds another ounce of guilt into his veins.

"i'm so sorry..." you pull away and nod, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. you turn to press the button of your floor before moving away from him.

sniffling, you refuse to make eye contact with him, "let's just head to bed..."

"hey, wait, yn let's talk about this..." before he can try to pull you in again, the door opens, revealing your floor and you walk out of the elevator.

juggling through your keys, ricky struggles to keep up as you rush through the halls towards your apartment. finally finding the right key, you walk up to your door, stick the key in and swing the door open.

surprisingly, you hold the door open for the distressed boy and he finally manages to catch you. the door slams as no one is there to gently close it, and his hand wraps around your wrist delicately.

"don't do this.." he calls, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you, concern threading through his features.

"do what?" you mumble avoidantly, trying to pry your wrist out of his grip.

"don't dismiss your feelings. tell me how it hurt, and tell me what i can do to fix it."

the two of you stand there for a moment and you shift on your feet uncomfortably at the silence.

he nods at you, trying to fish your emotions out and you lick your lips before huffing, "it hurt a lot."

you cringed at the sound of your voice cracking but with his comforting gaze, you found it hard to stop yourself, "even though it's not your fault you weren't allowed to leave, and technically neither was the pity that the taxi driver and waitress gave me, and that it was also your first time you missed a date... it still really hurt. honestly... i'm also embarrased. i didn't belong in that fancy restaurant, i only go there because of you... you can afford it, and that makes me feel like i'm leaching off of you..."

"yn..." at the sight of you looking away, ricky grabs your other hand to keep your attention on him.

"i take you there because i want to, not because i feel like i have to. you leaching off of me is never what i intended to make you feel like- neither was making you feel like you weren't worthy enough to be in that restaurant. if you feel more comfortable, we can start going to cafe's.. all i want is for you to be happy..."

"no, ricky... i'm happy wherever i go with you, i just... i guess i felt insecure in the moment- and getting stood up kind off added to that i guess..."

ricky cringes at your confession, "alright... how can i make it up to you?"

"js' being here with me is fine..." you sigh, finally looking up to lock eyes with him.

"you sure?"

"yeah... just try not to miss another date..."

“trust me, i’ll never let it happen again.”

navi. mlist.