#soft jake

[seenoversundown]

Missing these two a lot lately 🥹🖤🤧

For Death Or Glory Masterpost

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Female OC) Completed

Workplace Romance | Friends With Benefits to Lovers | He Falls First

Summary: Jake has always been a hopeless romantic, heavy on the hopeless. He’s gone out with plenty of girls, but they never last. Tired of being told he’s “too sweet”, he tapped out on dating once he bought the bar. Just waiting for the right one to walk into the bar and steal his heart.

*This is an AU Series*

Warnings: Fluff, (eventual) Smut, Anxious Themes, Mentions of Death, Smoking, Drinking (a lot of the story will take place surrounding the bar) Teasing, Yearning, Eventual Smut, Romance, Silly Goofy Boys.

(Warnings will be updated along with the series & More Detailed Warnings will be listed at the beginning of each chapter)

Word Count: 132.2k

Chapters:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | Epilogue

One Shots:

Affirmation ⁂ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) find themselves in an oddities shop where Charlotte has her tarot cards read, whether she believes in it or not.

White Christmas ☠ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) have a million and one things to do on Christmas Day and Charlotte is already stressed by 6 am. Thankfully, Jake knows exactly how to calm her down.

Siren ⁂ ☠️ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) get stuck at the bar on Valentine’s Day, but Jake makes sure to make it up to her after the bar closes.

Allure : Part 1 ⁂ | Part 2 ☠️ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) Family Lake Day! Starts off with Charlotte longingly watching her sweet motherly boyfriend take care of everyone all day but ends with him making it up to her in the sweetest way.

You're My Wishlist ⁂ ☠️ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) Christmas has come and Charlotte has a special present for Jake waiting at home.

Playlist:

Taglist Currently:

@gvfsstardust, @myleftsock , @mindastreamofcolours, @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @i-love-gvf @takenbythemadness @threadofstars, @earthgrlsreasy , @peaceloveunitygvf @musicspeaks , @gretavanfan @jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @anythingforjtk @woyayaofdreams @demonrat444 @hollyco @josh-iamyour-mama @wrldabomination @broken0mens @whereiskeara @gvf-luna @katuschka @ourlovesdesire @chloeshell1219 @becinabubblegvf @sanguinebats

reply or fill out this form to be added!

The Caravel Tavern Masterpost | Masterlist (One Shots / Other Fics)

[winterlico]

SEVEN DAYS WITH A DEMON — SJY

⋆.˚ pairing : demon!Jake x fem!reader | status : on going

Summary : You thought summoning a demon for seven days would be temporary. You were wrong.

⋆.˚ word count : 3k

Genre : Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Light Angst, Fluff

⋆.˚ warnings : 18+ joke (implicitly), harsh words, making out, LOTS of teasing (buckle up)

⋆.˚ a/n : English is not my first language and this is the first time i uploaded a fanfic, i'm sorry if there is still a lot missing words. If you want to be tagged, comment here!

❛ feedback & reblogs appreciated! ❜

Night Six: Curiosity & Confessions

The morning feels... ordinary. Or at least, as ordinary as it can be when you live with a demon.

The television hums in the background, flashing between news reports, reality shows, and the occasional drama that Jake pretends to hate but lingers on for just a little too long. Sunlight filters through the windows, soft and golden, casting a warm glow over the living room. The scent of coffee drifts through the air, mixing with the remnants of breakfast, settling into the quiet rhythm of the day.

And Jake is here.

He’s sitting at the other end of the couch, legs stretched out, looking completely at home despite the fact that he shouldn’t be. His arm is draped over the back of the couch, fingers occasionally tapping against the fabric like he’s absentmindedly keeping track of time. His golden eyes flick toward the screen every so often, watching the news with mild disinterest, before flipping through channels without asking for permission, like he already knows you won’t stop him.

And you don’t.

Because you’re too busy thinking. You’re too busy noticing.

Noticing how he has seamlessly integrated himself into your space, how his presence no longer feels intrusive, how you no longer flinch when he invades your personal bubble. Noticing how he is here.

And you don’t question it—not out loud. Not yet.

But the thought lingers. Why is he still here?

Demons fulfill their contracts. They stay until their obligations are met. That’s how this works.

So why does it feel like Jake isn’t in a rush to leave?

Why does it feel like he’s making himself comfortable?

Why does it feel like he’s lingering for reasons he hasn’t said?

The thought makes something tighten in your chest, something you don’t know how to name, something you don’t know if you want to name.

So you shake it off.

You let it sit in the back of your mind, ignored but not forgotten. And instead, you focus on the one thing you have been wanting to ask for a while now.

Jake doesn’t flinch when you break the silence.

"What exactly do demons do all day?"

He hums, tilting his head, fingers still tapping lightly against the couch. "Depends on the rank."

You raise a brow. "Ranks?"

He nods. "Higher demons oversee contracts, lower demons cause mischief. Middle-rankers like me? We get the fun jobs."

You don’t miss the smirk tugging at his lips, the way his golden eyes flick toward you, waiting for you to ask. So you do.

"And what exactly is a fun job for a demon?"

Jake leans back against the couch, stretching lazily before answering. "Tempting humans. Making deals. Ensuring your kind makes bad decisions." He grins. "Turns out, you don’t need much help with that."

You roll your eyes. "Rude."

"It’s a talent."

You huff, taking a sip of your drink before continuing. "And what happens when a human makes a contract with a demon?"

The question shifts something in the air. It’s small, subtle, barely noticeable—but it’s there.

Jake sets the remote down, his expression shifting just slightly. "Depends. Some sell their souls. Others ask for things that come with... consequences." His voice dips, turning quieter. "Demons are bound by the contract, but humans rarely read the fine print."

Your stomach tightens. Because there is something unspoken in his tone, something weighty, something that lingers between the words.

And then—you ask the question that changes everything.

"And what about you? Have you ever… taken a soul?"

The silence that follows is thick.

Not tense. Just... heavy.

Jake doesn’t answer right away. His golden eyes flick toward you—not sharp, not defensive, but measured. Considering.

"I don’t take what’s not given."

His voice is quiet. Too quiet. And something about the way he says it makes your chest ache.

Because you believe him. It doesn’t sound like an excuse nor a lie.

It sounds like a rule. A choice. Something he decided long ago.

Suddenly, you don’t know what to say. Because you had assumed.

Assumed that demons—all demons—did what they wanted without care, without guilt, without restraint. Assumed that Jake, for all his arrogance, for all his teasing, for all his smug confidence, was just like the stories told him to be.

But now?

Now, you aren’t so sure.

Now, you are realizing that there are things about him you don’t understand. You are realizing that Jake is not what you thought he was. The realization settles between you, thick, unspoken.

And for the first time, Jake is the one who looks away first. He reaches for the remote, flipping the channel without a word.

And just like that—the conversation is over.

But the weight of it stays. That’s when you realize—you don’t want to dance around it anymore.

You have a wish.

Tonight, you’re going to use it.

Later that night, when the apartment is quiet, when Jake is distracted, when the weight of the earlier conversation lingers in the air like something unfinished—

You speak your wish into existence. Without giving him time to react.

"I wish that the demon before me would be compelled to reveal the single biggest regret in its entire existence... and then forget they ever said it."

The moment the words leave your lips, you feel the magic take hold.

Jake freezes. His body tenses. His golden eyes widen—just for a second—before they glow. The reaction is instant, uncontrollable, something even he cannot fight.

Then, in a voice you have never heard before—

He speaks. His voice is not teasing. His voice is not cocky. His voice is not Jake.

"I regret trusting a human."

Your breath catches.

Jake’s face is blank—not guarded, not hesitant, just blank, like the words are being pulled from him without his control, like he is only realizing what he’s saying as the words leave his mouth.

"I thought they were different." His voice is quiet now, distant, like he isn’t in the room anymore. "I thought they wouldn’t betray me."

Something cold and sharp lodges itself in your chest.

"But they did."

Your stomach drops.

Jake exhales, his golden eyes unfocused. "And I learned that demons don’t get second chances."

The words hang in the air.

Heavy. Unshakable.

And then he blinks. His body relaxes. And you watch—heart pounding, breath uneven—as the magic washes over him, erasing the moment from his mind.

His golden eyes refocus, flicking toward you lazily, like nothing just happened. Like he hadn’t just revealed the single most painful thing in his existence.

"What?" He raises a brow. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

You cannot speak. Because you remember and he doesn’t. Because now, you are the only one who knows.

And Jake?

Jake will never know what he just told you.

You should drop it. You should pretend you didn’t hear what he said.

But you can’t. Because it stays.

Because you cannot ignore the weight in his voice, the ache beneath the words, the way his golden eyes darkened with something too heavy for him to name.

So you ask.

Soft. Careful.

"What did you mean by that?"

Jake freezes.

It’s subtle, quick, but you see it. His fingers twitch slightly where they rest against his knee. His golden eyes flicker—not glowing, not sharp, but guarded.

He smirks.

"What are you talking about, angel?" His voice is smooth, too smooth, like he’s buying himself time, like he’s already backpedaling.

But you don’t let him.

"You said you regret trusting a human."

Jake’s smirk falters—just barely, just for a second. Then it returns.

"Did I?" He tilts his head, feigning confusion, but there is tension in his posture now. "Doesn’t sound like me. I don’t regret anything."

You don’t blink.

"Liar."

Jake goes still.

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. He lets the silence stretch, lets it breathe, lets himself consider if this is something he is willing to share.

He exhales. It’s sharp, controlled, but not enough.

"It was a long time ago." His voice is quieter now, lacking its usual teasing weight. "Before I became what I am now. Before I—before all of this."

Your breath catches.

"Before you were a demon?"

Jake hesitates. Just slightly. Then he nods.

Well, this is bigger than you expected. Because Jake wasn’t always like this. He wasn’t always what he is now.

"I was human once."

The words settle in the air between you. You don’t speak and if you do, he might stop.

Jake leans back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the back—but there is nothing lazy about the way his fingers dig into the fabric, like he is grounding himself, like he is holding onto something invisible.

"I had a family." His voice is slow, careful, as if he’s reaching for a memory he hasn’t touched in a long, long time. "A younger sibling. A home. A life that was… normal. As normal as things could be back then."

Jake doesn’t speak like someone recalling fond memories. He speaks like someone remembering the way something was lost.

"We didn’t have much, but we had each other." His golden eyes darken, his gaze unfocused, staring at something you cannot see. "And for a while, that was enough."

"But life isn’t fair." His voice dips lower, softer, more bitter. "Especially not to people like us."

"Someone made a deal."

The words hit harder than they should.

"Not me. But someone close to me." His fingers tighten slightly, his jaw clenching. "They were desperate. They wanted a way out, a better life. And they thought…"

Jake stops himself. Then, after a long, painful pause—

"They thought they could trust the demon that offered it."

His golden eyes flicker, his expression harder now, sharper, filled with something raw. "They didn’t read the fine print."

You swallow. "And what happened?"

Jake laughs. But it is not amused.

"They were tricked." His voice is even now, controlled, but you can feel the weight beneath it. "The deal cost more than what they were willing to pay. And when it came time for payment… the demon didn’t care that they had regrets."

A pause.

A slow, aching pause.

"They died, angel."

Your heart clenches.

Jake exhales, slow and measured, but you see it now.

The anger.

The bitterness.

The guilt.

"I tried to stop it." He lets out a sharp breath. "I tried to fight it. But humans? We don’t win against demons."

A bitter chuckle.

"And then I died too."

The words land softly, but they shake something in you, something deep, something raw. You don’t react at first—not because you don’t want to, but because you can’t. Because Jake has never spoken about his past like this. Because this is not the same demon who taunts you, teases you, smirks lazily from across the room like nothing in the world can touch him.

Right now, he looks like something did.

The golden glow of his eyes is dim, unfocused, as if his mind is caught somewhere between then and now. His posture is different—his usual arrogance stripped down into something quieter, something more vulnerable. His fingers tap idly against his knee, too controlled, too rhythmic, like he is forcing himself to stay in the present, like he is not used to telling this story out loud.

"Jake..." Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, as if saying his name too loudly might shatter whatever fragile thread is holding this moment together.

He doesn’t look at you right away. And then he does.

His golden eyes flicker toward yours, and there it is—that moment of hesitation, of realization, of knowing that you are going to say something he does not want to hear.

So he looks away.

"Don’t." His voice is low, softer than usual, but steady. "Whatever you’re about to say—just don’t."

But how could you not?

How could you hear something like that—feel something like that—and pretend it didn’t matter?

How could you pretend that he didn’t matter?

The space between you feels too wide, too empty, too wrong.

Before you can stop yourself—before you can even think about whether this is a good idea or not—you move.

Instinct. Warmth. Comfort.

You close the distance, arms wrapping around him in a way that feels natural, like something you were always meant to do. Something he was never meant to expect.

Jake stiffens immediately.

It’s quick—a sharp inhale, a slight tensing of his shoulders, a flicker of disbelief that you can feel through the way his breath catches.

"What are you doing?" His voice is quiet, slightly uneven, like the words come out before he can think about them.

You don’t move.

"Hugging you."

Another pause. A slow inhale.

Then—softer, quieter, more uncertain than you have ever heard him—

"Why?"

Your arms tighten slightly, just enough for him to feel it, just enough to remind him that you are here.

"Because you need it."

Jake exhales—a shaky, uneven breath that he tries to cover up, but you hear it anyway.

"I don’t—"

But he doesn’t finish the sentence. Because, deep down, you both know it’s a lie.

Slowly, finally—He leans into you.

At first, it’s hesitant. His arms stay loose, his body still tense, like he isn’t sure if he should return the embrace, like he is still holding onto the instinct to pull away.

But something shifts. His fingers twitch, his breath hitches—a fraction of a second, barely noticeable, but you feel it.

He holds you back.

Firm. Solid. Tighter than you expected.

Like he is grounding himself in this moment.

Like he doesn’t understand why you are doing this, but he doesn’t want you to stop.

Like he is terrified that if he lets go, this will never happen again.

Your arms tighten in response, offering warmth, offering steadiness, offering something he has not had in a long, long time. For the first time, Jake lets himself be held.

Neither of you speak. Then softer than before, quieter, like he doesn’t want to say it out loud—

"I should have done more."

Your fingers curl slightly against his back.

"More?"

His voice is lower now, rougher, like he is pulling the words from somewhere deep. "I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve found another way. I should’ve—"

He stops. Swallows.

"I failed them."

Your chest tightens. Because you hate that he thinks that.

So you do something neither of you expect. You pull back just slightly—just enough to cup his face between your hands. His golden eyes widen, flickering with something unreadable.

Your touch is warm, steady, grounding. And when you speak, your voice is just as steady.

"You tried."

Jake doesn’t move.

"You fought for them. You did everything you could. That’s not failure, Jake. That’s love."

His breath stalls.

His golden eyes lock onto yours—uncertain, searching, like he is trying to find something in your expression that he doesn’t know how to name. Your thumbs brush softly against his cheekbones, the warmth of your touch melting something in him, something he wasn’t ready to let go of.

"You didn’t fail them, Jake."

He exhales—slow, shaky, uneven. Then he leans into your touch. Eventually, Jake shifts.

Not abruptly. Not like he’s trying to escape. Just… slowly. Like he doesn’t want to move, but he knows he has to. His arms loosen. His body pulls back—not too far, just enough to put space between you again.

His golden eyes meet yours, they look softer. Not broken. Not shattered. Just… softer.

Then he smirks.

Lazy. Arrogant. Almost normal.

"Getting attached, angel?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

But Jake doesn’t move and neither do you.

Because something is still lingering between you. Something that wasn’t there before. Something neither of you are naming just yet.

The room feels quieter than before, the air between you thicker, heavier, but not suffocating. Just... different. The weight of his past still lingers, a ghost that neither of you can fully shake, but for once—Jake doesn’t seem like he’s drowning in it.

You hesitate, watching him carefully, searching his expression for any trace of the sharp walls he usually throws up. But they’re not there. Not completely.

His golden eyes flick to yours, studying you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. And then, before you can say anything, before you can even think of breaking the silence—

Jake sighs. A slow, deep breath, like he’s shaking something off.

He moves. Not away, not out of reach, but just enough to lean back against the couch, head tilting against the cushions, arms stretching lazily over the top.

Like nothing happened. Like the past ten minutes weren’t something that neither of you will ever forget.

Like he didn’t just let you hold him.

And yet—his hand lingers. Just barely. Just a slight brush against yours as he moves, a ghost of a touch that he doesn’t pull away from.

"You’re warm, angel," he murmurs, voice smooth again, casual—but too quiet. Too real.

You blink. "Uh. Thanks?"

Jake chuckles, shaking his head.

And just like that, the moment shifts. Not erased. Just... tucked away.

But even as the conversation drifts into something else, even as Jake starts flipping through channels on the TV like he isn’t completely wrecked, even as he pretends that nothing has changed—

You both know it has. Neither of you say it. But you both feel it.

Tonight, you let it stay.

back to the list ⋆˚࿔

taglist : @firstclassjaylee @tya0 @limerenceisserenity @lavendersloane @nodoubtily @rairaiblog

If you want to be tagged, comment here!

[topgungirlies]

Flowers - Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake and your kids love to surprise you

Word Count: 572 words

“Mommy!” You heard your daughter, Maya Jane, yell as she ran inside the house you shared with your husband, Jake. You two had moved to Texas before your first child, Daniel, was born, and now you two lived blissfully with your four kids. With her brothers in tow, Maya ran up to you and grinned with her hands behind her back. 

“Mommy-”

“Mommy, guess what?!” Your twins, Ben and Henry, began to pull down on your arms so that you could be at eye level with them.

“Ah, ah, careful,” Jake stepped in and gently helped you down. “Remember, Mommy’s pregnant so we have to be gentle with her.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” the twins said in unison. 

Ben also made sure to press his face onto your stomach and loudly say, “Sorry, Isaac and Ivy!!” After stepping back, Ben bounced on his toes while Henry came and wrapped his arms around one of yours. 

“Ben!! Henry!! Ugh, stop!! I’m trying to give Mommy her flowers!!” With a gasp, one of Maya’s little hands flew out from behind her and clasped over her mouth. “BENNN!! You made me ruin the surprise,” she whined.

“What did I do?” Ben asked.

Quickly losing control of the situation, Jake interjected. “Why don’t you guys give Mommy her present now?” 

“Okay, Daddy!” Daniel yelled, stepping forward to hand you a bouquet of wildflowers. “I picked these with my brothers!” He proudly declared.

“Well, mine are better because they’re from the flower shop and they’re pink and Mommy likes pink and- here, Mommy!” Maya said all at once, forcing the flowers into your other hand. “Mommy, Mommy, you like my flowers, right? They’re pink. Pink is our favorite color.”

“I picked that one,” Henry loudly whispered in your ear, pointing to a wildflower that was arranged about an inch taller than the rest of them. 

“I love flowers!” Ben added, bouncing off the walls. “I like blue flowers and red flowers and pink flowers and orange flowers and I HATE green flowers but I like purple flowers…” Ben trailed off as Jake looked on with tired amusement. 

“Well? Daniel pressed, “Do you like them?”

Tearing up, you smiled first at your babies and then up at your husband, who took the bouquets from your hands. Pulling the kids close, you kissed them each on the tops of their heads and squeezed them until they were giggling and pushing themselves out of your grip. “I love them. I love them all so much. "And," you added, “I love you all so much, my sweet babies.” 

“I love you, Mommy,” each kid said in turn. 

Looking up at Jake, the kids wrapped in a hug once more, you mouthed the words I love you to him.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispered, eyes full of love. 

“Daddy!” Maya harshly whispered. “Daddy, come here!” She waved her dad down to join you on the floor.

“Maya Jane,” Jake said, “if I get down there then I’m not getting back up.”

“You know what I think we should do, then?” You said to the kids, reaching up your arms for them to help you up. “I think we need to just go to Daddy.”

In a fit of excitement, the kids all rushed Jake, crushing a few petals on the way. Looking at you with his arms and heart full, Jake would have sworn that he was the happiest man on earth.

[wildbluesorbit]

The amount of times a day I fight the urge to throw a screaming fit over jake’s widdle tummy is IMMORAL !!

[jakesguitarsolo]

Impure (soft) Jake thought of the day —

You know what I want need right now?

Don’t imagine that you’re reading a book on the couch, laying there on your stomach just having a relaxing afternoon.

Don’t imagine that Jake wanders in carrying your favorite mug filled with coffee prepared just the way you like it.

Don’t imagine that he sets the mug down on the coffee table before crawling on top of you, nestling his head into the crook of your neck, leaving trails of kisses up to your jaw and cheek.

“Whatcha reading, angel?” Jake would coo in your ear.

Don’t imagine how this would tickle causing you to giggle, and how Jake would smile with those beautiful teeth of his at the sound of your laugh.

“Oh nothing, just one of my very normal dark romance books,” you’d tease.

Don’t imagine how he’d cup your cheek and turn your face toward him to plant the sweetest and most passionate kiss on your lips.

Don’t imagine getting lost in it as he deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth further with his tongue.

“Mmm… Interesting. Any good inspiration?” he’d say breaking the kiss and smirking as you now feel him grow hard against your ass.

“I can think of a few things I’d like to try, but you know what I need right now instead?” You’d ask innocently, giving him your sweetest doe eyes.

Don’t imagine Jake running his hands through your hair, massaging your scalp as he says, “Tell me, baby. What do you need from me?”

“Want you to make love to me, Jakey. Slow and gentle. Please? Can you do that for me?” You beg.

Don’t imagine that Jake would huff out a soft laugh as he responds, “For you? I would do anything for you. Gonna make you feel so good you’ll think you died and went to heaven, angel.”

Don’t imagine how Jake would then gently flip you over and undress you both while kissing every inch of your exposed skin.

Don’t imagine how you’d sigh and whimper at the feeling, goosebumps rising all over.

Don’t imagine Jake on top of you as he makes love to you slow and deep, making sure you feel every inch of him.

Don’t imagine how you’d both moan into each other’s mouths, swallowing the sweet sounds of each other as he hurls your body closer and closer to the edge.

Don’t imagine how you’d both fall apart simultaneously, bodies tingling in complete and total euphoria.

Don’t imagine trying to catch your breath as you finally come down from that high, laying there silently as he holds you close. Bodies pressed against one another, his weight completely resting on you.

“That was perfect, Jake. Exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed. I love you so much.”

Don’t imagine Jake tucking your hair behind your ear as he gazes into your eyes and says, “I love you more, angel.”

[smoking-jakelane]

My precious soft jakey

JAKEY SMILING ON STAGE WAAAAAAAAA

[enhaflixer]

dad!enhypen x mom f!reader - enha dilf smut

cw: smut, breeding kink, degradation, 69ing some real filthy some real sweet im ngl 2 u ENHA HARD HOURS MDNI 18+

-

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

Yuri’s finally asleep upstairs, her stuffed bear clutched in one tiny hand. The monitor hums on the kitchen counter. Snow’s falling outside the windows, crackling gently against the fire-warmed glass.

And Heeseung?

He’s looking at you like you’re dessert.

The second you bend down to put your mug in the sink—sweatpants sliding just an inch too low, the back of your tank top riding up—he’s behind you.

His palm presses flat to your lower back. His hips grind into your ass, and you feel him already hard.

“Baby,” he mutters, voice wrecked. “You wanna be a mom again that bad?”

You laugh breathlessly. “She just fell asleep.”

He leans down, lips brushing your ear.

“Then you better keep your mouth shut.”

Your heart stutters. Your thighs clench.

Heeseung grabs your hips, bends you gently over the kitchen counter, and pulls your sweats down just far enough to expose your soaked panties.

“Oh, you’re ready already?” he says, one brow raised. “Just from me watching you do dishes like a good little wife?”

He strokes one finger up the seam of your pussy, still covered.

You squirm. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Heeseung—”

“No,” he whispers, kissing your spine. “Say it.”

“Please fuck me.”

He slides your panties aside and pushes in slowly—deep—like he’s savoring it.

You gasp, hands braced on the cold counter, the stretch already making your legs shake.

And he starts moving.

Not gentle.

Not rough.

Just… focused.

Possessive.

Like he’s claiming you all over again.

“Look at you,” he groans. “Tight like it’s the first time. Wet like you were made for me. This pussy’s been mine since day one, huh?”

You whimper, trying not to moan too loud.

The baby monitor glows quietly in the corner.

Heeseung sees you glance at it and smirks.

“You scared she’s gonna hear?” he taunts. “Worried our little girl’s gonna wake up and hear mommy getting bred like she asked for it?”

You moan into your arm. Heeseung growls.

“God, you’re so fucking hot when you’re trying to be quiet.”

He grabs your jaw, pulls you up just enough to hiss into your ear:

“You know what gets me off? Seeing you with her. Watching you tuck her in, feed her, kiss her little cheeks like the perfect mother.”

He thrusts harder.

“And knowing that this is what you need when she’s down for a nap. Knowing I fuck you so good, you leak for an hour after.”

You’re shaking. Crying out now.

There’s slick dripping down your thighs, onto the floor. Heeseung grabs your chin, makes you look at your reflection in the microwave.

“Look at yourself,” he growls. “So messy. So fucked out. You want another one? I’ll fill you up right now. Knock you up again while our daughter’s sleeping upstairs.”

You cum so hard your knees give out.

Heeseung holds you up.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “Now hold still.”

He fucks you through it. Doesn’t pull out.

And when you feel it—that rush of heat, his cum spilling inside you—you moan like it’s your own orgasm.

Heeseung pants against your neck, then presses the softest kiss to your temple.

“That’s how you start a family vacation.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

The baby’s asleep. The monitor’s on. You’re freshly showered, wearing nothing but a robe, leaning against the headboard with your legs tucked up beneath you.

Jay walks in slowly, towel around his neck, hair damp from his own shower. You smile at him, lazy and soft. He looks at you like he’s been starving.

“You shouldn’t sit like that,” he murmurs, climbing onto the bed.

“Like what?”

He crawls toward you, eyes locked on the part of your robe that’s come slightly undone.

“Like your pussy isn’t the only thing I’ve thought about all day.”

You laugh, but your breath catches when he kisses your thigh. Just above the knee. Then higher. Then higher.

“I’m serious,” he whispers, lips dragging against your skin. “Ever since you got pregnant… ever since you gave birth…”

His hands slide under the robe. Push your thighs apart gently.

“You taste different. Sweeter. Thicker. Like wine.”

You stare down at him, stunned. Flushed. “Jay—”

But he’s already kissing your pussy like it’s communion.

Slow, reverent. Like he’s praying.

He moans into you, loud, unashamed. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. You feel his lips part—his tongue flatten—and then he’s drinking you like he’s been deprived.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away for a second. “You taste like something aged in heaven and bottled for sinners.”

You whimper. Try to close your legs.

He growls. “No. You gave me a child. You really think I’m ever gonna stop tasting you?”

He eats you with slow, devastating focus. Not teasing. Not rushed. Just deep, soft, relentless devotion.

You cum once—twice—he doesn’t stop.

Even when your thighs tremble, even when your hips jerk up, even when your hand grips his hair like a lifeline.

Jay doesn’t stop until you’re crying.

And when he finally comes up, lips shiny, chin wet, eyes dark?

He kisses your stomach.

The stretch marks.

The curve of your softened belly.

The skin he watched stretch around his baby.

“You taste better now,” he murmurs. “Because you’re mine in every way. And I’m never gonna let you forget it.”

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

He’s been hard all goddamn day.

You’ve been walking around the house in that little tank top, no bra, nipples brushing the fabric every time you breathe. You keep bending over to pick up your son’s toys, bouncing him on your hip like some sweet little housewife. Jake hasn’t had your pussy in a week, and it shows.

Every time you talk to him, his brain short-circuits.

Every time you smile at him, his cock twitches.

Your son Jacob?

Beautiful. Perfect. The light of his life.

Also ruining his sex life.

It’s not your fault. Jake knows that. But he’s still spiraling.

It’s 9:46pm.

The baby’s finally asleep.

You’re barely in the bedroom before he’s on you.

He locks the door. Turns around. And says it—

“Get your ass on the bed before I fuck you against the wall like a rabid dog.”

You blink. “Jake—”

“No. I’ve been jerking off to the memory of your pussy for six fucking days. I came in the goddamn laundry room this morning like a pervert. The second that kid shuts his eyes, I’m in you.”

You’re already backing up. Jake follows, jaw tight, cock fully hard in his sweats.

“You’ve been teasing me all fucking day. Walking around with your tits out like you don’t know what you’re doing. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

He drags your shorts down. Sees your panties. Laughs, mean and low.

“Oh, these are getting ruined. Hope you weren’t attached.”

He kisses you. Rough. Possessive.

Then drops to his knees and spits on your pussy through the fabric.

“Been dreaming about this cunt. Swear to god, baby. You’ve got the kind of pussy that ruins people.”

You’re gasping. Squirming. Already dripping through the cotton.

Jake groans. “Fuck, you’re soaked. You miss this mouth too, huh? Miss being licked until you cry? Look at you—messy and shaking, and I haven’t even pulled the panties off yet.”

He pulls them aside, tongue already out, devouring you like he’s starving.

He’s loud. Sloppy. Mouth wet and wide and relentless.

“Fuck, I forgot how good this tastes. Like candy. Like fucking syrup. Wanna drown in it. Wanna tonguefuck you until you start babbling, baby. Give me that shit.”

You cum in his mouth in under two minutes.

He doesn’t stop.

“You think I’m done? Nah. Not even close. I’m not pulling my mouth off this pussy till your legs stop working.”

“Mamaaaa?”

Both of you freeze.

“Mama, snack please?”

Jake lifts his face from between your thighs, chin soaked. He blinks once.

Then stands up.

Calm. Still. Murderous.

“I’m gonna drop him off at my mom’s.”

You’re panting. “Jake—”

“I swear to fucking god, I love him, but if he interrupts me one more time, I’m going to lose it. I’m on the edge, baby. Your pussy’s dripping, my balls hurt, and my mouth tastes like heaven.”

He pulls his hoodie on. Wipes his face with the sleeve. Grabs his keys.

“Get ready. Because when I get back, I’m going to come in you until you’re stuffed so full you forget your own name.”

He leans down, kisses your pussy one more time.

Smirks.

“Try not to cum without me.”

And walks out the door.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

It’s late.

And Sunghoon’s at his limit.

The boys fought all day—chased each other with brooms, cried over identical socks, tried to body slam each other off the fucking couch. He broke up four WWE reenactments, confiscated two folding chairs, and heard the phrase “Spear him!!”more than a Monday Night Raw announcer.

He didn’t even finish his dinner.

Now you’re on your knees, robe slipped off your shoulders, tits swaying as you crawl between his legs with that look in your eye.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t tease.

He just pulls his cock out—already hard—and groans:

“Open your fucking mouth, baby. Daddy needs to forget he’s a parent for ten fucking minutes.”

You moan like you were born for it, lips parting, tongue flat as he feeds it to you inch by inch.

“Goddamn,” he hisses. “That mouth. You’ve been thinking about this all day too, haven’t you? Walking around like my dumb little housewife—cooking for our kids while this tight little throat’s just sitting here. Untouched.”

You gag. Loud. He grins. Dark. Mean.

“That’s it, baby. Fucking slobber on it. I want your spit dripping down to your tits.”

And then—

SLAM. SLAM. SLAM.

“DAAAAAADDDD!!!!!!!”

Sunghoon freezes mid-thrust.

You look up at him—dazed, cock still in your mouth, tears brimming.

He blinks.

Clenches his jaw.

Looks at the door.

“DAD!! JAEWON WON’T TAP OUT—HE’S NOT EVEN SELLING!!”

“HE HIT ME WITH THE PILLOW TOO SOFT!! THAT’S NOT A REAL FINISHER!!”

Sunghoon exhales like he’s in prison.

Stares at you. Then back at the door.

And then he laughs. Quiet. Deranged.

“Let them fight.”

He grabs your head in both hands, forces your face down until you’re choking on his cock again.

“They wanna pretend they’re in the ring?” he growls. “Fine. They can wrestle to the sound of their mother being face-fucked.”

You whimper, throat bulging.

“Yeah. Gag on it, slut. Show me how much you missed this. Bet your pussy’s soaked already.”

You’re dripping. Pathetically.

You can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move—but Sunghoon doesn’t care.

He keeps fucking into your throat like it owes him something, hips snapping rough, deep, relentless.

“Don’t stop. Don’t even think about stopping. They wanna scream through the door? Let them.”

You moan around him—loud. Shaky.

One of your tits bounces against your stomach with each thrust, and he watches it like he’s hypnotized.

“DAAAAAAD!!! CAN YOU COUNT TO THREE?! JAEHYUN’S PINNING ME AND WON’T GET OFF!!”

Sunghoon barks a laugh, head thrown back.

“Yeah, hold on—let me just finish throatfucking my wife so I can come count to three like a fucking WWE ref.”

You gag so hard tears stream down your cheeks.

“That’s it, baby. God, you look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat. Bet they’ll shut the fuck up if they hear you choking on daddy’s dick.”

You cum untouched.

Right there on your knees, body shaking, soaked down your thighs—just from the way he talks to you. The way you knowhe’s been waiting all fucking day to use you like this.

Sunghoon feels it.

He pulls you off, cock soaked, saliva clinging in strings to your lips. You’re panting, teary-eyed, flushed.

“You done?” he murmurs. “Or you want me to make them wait while I use your pussy next?”

“DAD. I’M GONNA DO A LADDER MATCH OFF THE STAIRS IF YOU DON’T COME OUT.”

Sunghoon sighs.

Looks down at you.

Smiles.

“Five more minutes. Think you can handle it, mommy?”

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

It’s past ten. The house is quiet—finally.

And Sunoo is face down in the mattress, one sock still on, his shirt halfway pulled up his back like he got undressed mid-collapse and gave up.

You close the bedroom door softly. Climb in next to him.

“Long day?”

He groans into the pillow.

“She cried because I gave her the green cup instead of the pink one. Then she screamed when I tried to switch it. She said the bubbles in the bath were ‘too round.’”

You smile, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“And then,” he continues, voice muffled, “she fell asleep on me at six-thirty, woke up ten minutes later, and punched me in the nose. I think she might be feral.”

You laugh softly, kissing his cheek.

He rolls over—barely. One eye open. Face flushed from stress and exhaustion and not getting to touch you for four days straight.

“I need you to ride me,” he whispers.

You blink. “Right now?”

“I literally can’t move.” He stretches his arms out uselessly. “My soul left my body around lunchtime. I need you to do everything. Just use me. Treat me like a toy. I’ll whimper, I swear.”

You bite your lip.

He looks so pretty like this.

Messy. Tired. Desperate.

So you peel off your clothes—slowly, deliberately. He watches through heavy lashes, licking his lips when you tug your panties down.

“Please,” he breathes. “Come sit on it. I’m not even kidding. I think I’ll cry if you don’t.”

You crawl into his lap, straddle him gently, and feel how hard he is already—twitching under the waistband of his boxers. You free him with a soft gasp, stroke him once, twice, then sink down slowly onto his cock.

Sunoo whines.

Like, really whines. Head thrown back, hands twitching against the sheets.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “You’re so wet. Baby, you’re so fucking wet. And warm. You’re gonna kill me.”

You rock your hips slowly, grinding down, pussy clenching around him with each roll. He’s not moving at all—just laying there, fully at your mercy, biting his lip and moaning so sweetly it makes your toes curl.

“You’re such a good boy,” you murmur, leaning forward to kiss his neck. “Letting me use you like this.”

He whimpers. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

You ride him slow and deep, your tits brushing his chest, his cock hitting just right with every movement. He’s flushed, wrecked, totally silent except for the filthy little sounds leaving his throat.

And when you clench around him hard, he gasps and cries out:

“I’m gonna cum—oh my god—don’t stop, please, baby, I need it so bad—”

You fuck him through it. Harder. Deeper.

He cums with his mouth open, eyes wide, hips twitching under you like he’s about to pass out.

He goes still. Completely still.

Eyes closed. Breathing shallow.

You brush his hair back.

“Sunoo?”

He hums, dazed. “You broke me.”

You laugh, kiss his forehead.

“Do you want water?”

He shakes his head, voice barely audible.

“I want Mirae to sleep till she’s eighteen. Then she can move out.”

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

You’ve never hated your own child more than you did tonight.

You love Noa—of course you do—but after ninety minutes of pure hell (a tantrum about socks, three fake pees, one real one, and exactly zero full minutes of sleep), you’re about ready to throw yourself out the window.

Jungwon��freshly showered, soft-eyed, hoodie sleeves pushed up, licking the frosting spoon you didn’t get to finish?

You’re gonna ride his fucking face until he can’t speak.

He walks into the bedroom, hair messy, voice raspy. “She’s finally down. I think.”

You’re already pulling your shirt over your head.

He blinks. “You okay?”

“No,” you snap, kicking your shorts off. “I’ve been thinking about 69ing you for three goddamn days and if I don’t sit on your fucking face right now I will cry.”

His jaw drops. “Wait—like, now?”

You crawl onto the bed. “Yes. Backward. Full weight. No mercy.”

He’s stunned for half a second—then his cock jumps in his sweats.

“Oh my god.”

“Lie down,” you growl.

He obeys. Flat on his back, head against the pillows, already hard and leaking by the time you swing a leg over his head. You lower your soaking pussy onto his mouth, facing his cock, and his hands clamp onto your ass like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Use my face,” he pants. “Fucking sit on it. I can take it.”

And you do.

You drop onto his tongue, grind down hard, moaning when he licks a fat stripe up your pussy and starts sucking like it’s his first meal in weeks.

You wrap a hand around his cock. He gasps into you.

“This nasty little wife,” you mutter, already jerking him off, “riding your face like she’s trying to drown you. Think you’ll pass out, baby?”

He moans. Loud. Unfiltered.

His tongue is everywhere—in your pussy, on your clit, dragging through your folds while you bounce gently on his mouth like it’s your fucking throne.

You spit on his cock. Loud. Filthy.

It lands on the head, stringy and warm, and you spread it down the shaft while you twist your wrist and sink your mouth down on him in one smooth, practiced stroke.

Jungwon chokes.

He jerks once under you—then groans into your pussy, hips stuttering like he’s going to cum already.

“You close?” you giggle, pulling off with a messy pop. “Already? Poor thing. You just want to fill my throat while I cum all over your face, huh?”

He moans. Loud.

You lick a stripe up the underside of his cock and say:

“What if I squirt all over you, baby? Would you drown for me?”

He nods into your cunt. You feel it.

So you bounce harder. Fuck his face faster. Slurp his cock between your lips like it’s your favorite flavor and moan around him when his tongue flicks just right—

You cum first.

Hard.

Your thighs squeeze his head like a death grip as you cry out, leaking into his mouth while he keeps licking, tongue working you through it while his hands pull your ass down, grinding you onto him.

You don’t even give him time to recover.

You suck his cock deep—down your throat, swallowing him whole until he cries out into your pussy and cums down your throat so hard you choke.

You swallow.

Keep sucking.

He whimpers.

When you finally lift off his face, he’s wrecked.

Mouth glazed in your slick, lips swollen, chest heaving.

You wipe your chin, swing around, and lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Next time, you better ask for it. I’m not gonna be the only one begging.”

He blinks. Tries to speak.

Fails.

You smirk.

“Sweet dreams, husband.”

He falls asleep with your taste still on his tongue.

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

The house is quiet. Monitor glowing faint on the nightstand. Just the sound of your breathing and the rustle of sheets as you look up.

He’s already shirtless. Grey sweats sitting low, waistband dipping under sharp hips. Hair messy from running his fingers through it, still flushed from cleaning up the kitchen, checking the monitor twice, pretending he wasn’t aching the whole time.

You blink sleepily.

“Come to bed, Riki.”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Just walks to the edge of the bed, climbs in behind you, and presses himself against your back—body warm, hard in all the places that count. His hand slides under your shirt and cups your belly. Not your tits. Not between your legs.

Just your belly.

“I miss this,” he murmurs. Quiet. Low. Dangerous.

You pause.

“You miss what?”

He kisses the back of your neck.

“When you were pregnant.”

Your breath catches.

“Riki—”

“You were glowing. Round. Always out of breath. So soft and full and mine.”

You shiver when his hand slides down—slow, reverent—and presses between your legs.

“Your body knew what I wanted before you did,” he whispers. “Now it’s empty. And I want it full again.”

You turn around to face him.

He’s already hard, pressing up against your thigh. His eyes are wild now, lips parted, flushed all the way to his ears.

“You want another baby?” you ask, barely able to breathe.

He nods once.

“I want you pregnant again, baby. I want you leaking, glowing, begging me to slow down because I won’t stop fucking you.”

You moan.

He flips you onto your back without warning, dragging your panties down, pressing his cock against your soaked entrance.

“You’d look so pretty round again. Tired all the time. Needy. Can’t even ride me properly without whining about your hips.”

You gasp as he slides in, slow and deep and possessive.

“Fuck—Riki—”

“Don’t worry,” he grits out. “I’ll fuck it into you slow. Make sure it takes.”

His thrusts are smooth, devastating. One hand gripping your waist, the other sliding under your shirt to palm your tits.

“These got so big when you were carrying,” he whispers, biting his lip. “So heavy. You hated it. I loved it.”

You whine—louder now. He smiles.

“God, you like it too, huh? Getting knocked up? Being so full you can’t think straight?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

“You’re so ready for it,” he moans. “Already dripping. Your pussy’s so greedy, baby. She knows what I want.”

He fucks you harder then. Deeper. His pace messy and obsessive.

When he cums—hot and deep and shaking—he doesn’t move.

Just stays buried inside you, breathing ragged, holding your hips like he can will it into happening.

“Keep it,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. “Don’t let it go. I wanna see you big again.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him down into another kiss.

He groans.

“I’ll give you as many as you want. Just keep letting me ruin you like this.”

-

TL: @addictedtohobi @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @somuchdard @ddolleri @elairah @zzhengyu @annybah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @hihway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @enhaverse713586 @cristy-101 @bloomiize @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3 @jakewonist @azzy02

[bywons]

PULLING YOU ON THEIR LAP 𖥔 ENHYPEN

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋

❪ 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝐶𝑖𝑆 ❫ ｡ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 992wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ── 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 愛 ／ 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

する ܃ dedicated to @.jenni cause she gave the idea for jw’s hc and then BOOM ot7 hc :0

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG

“do i really look good in this dress?” you pout, mindlessly monitoring yourself in front of the mirror.

“i feel like—” before you can even finish your sentence, your loving boyfriend, lee heeseung, pulls you on his lap. you land on his lap with a soft gasp, your hands automatically flying to his chest. as soon as you take in heeseung’s expression towards you, you feel heat rush to your cheeks and tips of your ear.

his infamous doe eyes lock onto yours, brimming with adoration as he quickly takes in all of you through his lovesick eyes. heeseung leans closer, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he rests his chin on your shoulder. his hands find their way to your waist, holding you firmly yet gently as if you might slip away at any moment.

“you feel like what, babe?” he whispers, teasing, “like you're the prettiest girl in the world? if so, then i agree.”

PARK JONGSEONG

your restlessness doesn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend, as you pace around the room, venting about your day.

meanwhile jay feels concerned by the minute, he wants to share your pain, your thoughts. so without a word, he reaches out and catches your wrist, gently tugging you toward him. before you can react, he pulls you onto his lap, his arms encircling your waist with a quiet possessiveness.

“jay—” “shh,” he shushes you down, before creeping his hands up against your back, tracing little circles and shapes to calm you down, while the other hand holds you in place, resting along your waist. jay leans in, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your neck which makes your breath hitch.

“you don’t always have to fight everything on your own,” he whispers, his tone laced with affection. he pushes your head against his warm chest. “lean on me, baby. i’ll always be here for you.”

SIM JAEYUN

jake whines, sighs heavily as he watches you scroll down your phone for the past hour now, and the longer he waits the more he wants to snatch you away from it. and so he does.

without a word he grabs your hand and pulls you on his lap. “jake what—” before you can even say anything, he wraps himself around you like a koala, face buried deep in your neck and hands snaking around your waist.

“jake! what are you doing?” you protest, your cheeks heating up.

“just wanted you closer,” he says simply, mumbling against your neck. his hands settle around you, his thumbs drawing lazy circles.

“you look cute you're flustered,” he giggles as you say that, he can't deny that it's completely true.

PARK SUNGHOON

a lazy afternoon, you fold your laundry while humming to yourself. when you suddenly feel gentle hands wrapping around your abdomen, and before you can react you land squarely on sunghoons lap.

“‘hoon!” you gasp sweetly, before turning towards him, taking a glance of his beautiful face, “are you feeling extra romantic, maybe?”

“how’d you know?” he mumbles, kissing your shoulders before resting his chin there, swaying the both of you side to side. he holds your tighter as if you’d slip away. sunghoons embrace brings you comfort and warmth, as he giggles into your ear with sweet nothings. just the two of you this mellow afternoon.

you lean back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you.

“you’re beautiful like this,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “stay with me a little longer.”

KIM SUNOO

you're play arguing with your boyfriend sunoo— a serious topic on who likes mint chocolate more, your teasing words earning exaggerated sighs and pouts from him.

just as you laugh at his reaction, with surprising great strength, sunoo grabs your wrist and hauls you towards him. with a gasp, your head rests over his shoulders, with you on his lap.

“okay, that’s enough,” he says with a dramatic huff, his arms locking around your waist to keep you in place. “i win.

your blink up at him, momentarily surprised at the sudden closeness and warmth from him. his touch is warm and loving, except his eyes which look down on you with a hint of playfulness and possession. he smirks, finally lighting your heart on fire.

“sunoo—!” “nope, nope. you're staying right here,” he chuckles, before leaning down to whisper, “besides, you look the best on my lap, close to me.”

YANG JUNGWON

your jaw hangs low as you stare at your boyfriend like a hawk. so this was jungwon’s sweet surprise? going blonde?

“so? say something?” he sighs. he ruffles his newly dyed hair, his lips pulling into an awkward smile, as he sits on the couch. you don’t know whether to laugh, cry or swoon, so you stammer, “you..you look different.”

“different good or different bad?” he giggles, gently pulling you closer until you land on his lap, your silken hair falling upon his cheeks. “different good,” you whisper.

“very nice then,” he whispers back, pressing a soft kiss against your lips as he pulls you closer by your waist, “i plan on being blonde the rest of my life then.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you've been teasing and your boyfriend riki relentlessly, giggling at his exaggerated groans of frustration. he rolls his eyes, pretending to be unbothered, but you know you’ve struck a nerve. just as you’re about to say something else, he abruptly grabs your wrist and tugs you onto his lap.

“quiet,” he says, leaning closer, his voice tinged with mock annoyance. his hands rest on your thighs, steadying you as his dark eyes meet yours, full of mischief and something deeper. “you’ve been teasing me all day. now it’s my turn.”

your breath hitches as his face inches closer, the proximity making your heart pound.

he wants to laugh at your expression, but instead he gives you a sweet kiss. “you're lucky that I like you,” he giggles.

© BYWONS, 2024 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels @k-films @k-nets CLICK ME

[flwrstqr]

𓂃 PRETTY BOY ⟡​ WHEN YOU KISS THEM EVERYWHERE BUT THEIR LIPS

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 𓈒 𓈒 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽

【 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐒 】 boyfriend!enha & fem!rea 7OO established relationship reactions 𖹭 skinship petnames ˊᯅˋ DAILY

다니 ⠀⦂ i promise i'll be more active in a few more weeks ! remakes of my fics again TT the era when i first wrote this head canon was peak era i fear..

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung’s back is against the couch, his arms draped lazily over the cushions as you trail soft kisses across his jaw, down his neck, up to the tip of his nose—everywhere but his lips. “baby,” he breathes, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you’re really not gonna kiss me?” you hum. he chuckles, tilting your chin up with two fingers. “what if i beg?” he murmurs, those stupidly pretty bambi eyes locking with yours. “please, angel. don’t be mean.” but when you lean in and press a kiss to his chin instead, he groans. "fuck, you’re evil,” he whispers, lips brushing your cheek. “c’mon, just one…” his voice drops, flirtatious and honey-smooth. “right here,” he taps his lips, smiling so wide your heart stutters. heeseung, the menace. always leaving you breathless.

PARK JAY

jay lets you pepper kisses down his neck, along his collarbone, over his cheek, his temple—everywhere but his lips. his hand rests gently on your waist, thumb drawing slow circles as he watches you with love-sick eyes. “mm, you’re spoiling me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly when you lean in again. just as your lips brush his cheek, he turns and catches your mouth with his. it’s a soft kiss, and he’s grinning through it like he’s proud of himself. “jay!” you gasp, half-laughing, half-scolding. “you cheated!” he only shrugs, that gentleman smile never leaving his face. “you left me no choice,” he says sweetly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “had to fight for my rights.” and god, when he looks at you like that—all calm and collected while your heart’s doing backflips—you can’t even stay mad.

SIM JAKE

jake’s already melting under your touch, as you trail kisses along his jaw, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks. “princess…” he whines, eyes wide and glossy, lower lip jutting out in the most dramatic pout. “please, c’mon, just one—right here,” he taps his lips, head tilting back just a little. “you’re killing me,” he groans when you kiss the corner of his mouth instead, shoulders slumping. “you don’t love me,” he adds with a tiny sniff, but he’s grinning through it. “i’m gonna combust. actually combust. you want that on your conscience?” you laugh, and he immediately perks up, hopeful again, leaning in. “one kiss, angel. please. just one.” he’s impossible. and so, so kissable.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon sits back with that usual unreadable look, arms crossed behind his head like he’s completely unbothered by the way you’re kissing along his jaw, his neck, his collarbone—everywhere but his lips. “you done?” he murmurs, voice low, almost bored, but his eyes keep flicking down to your mouth every few seconds, betraying him. you press a soft kiss on his nose, and his jaw clenches. “not even gonna kiss me properly?” he asks, still pretending like he doesn’t care. you smirk, leaning in like you might give in—only to kiss the tip of his nose instead. he scoffs, barely, then exhales through his nose. “you’re annoying,” he mutters, eyes fixed on your lips now.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo’s giggles start soft, sweet, as you press kisses to his cheeks, his jawline, the tip of his nose, but they fade fast the longer you avoid his lips. he starts frowning, arms wrapping around your waist tighter. “baby,” he mumbles, brows knitting together. “you missed a spot.” you blink at him innocently, tilting your head. “what do you mean?” he gapes at you. “what do you mean what do i mean? my lips, hello?” he pokes them with his finger dramatically, still pouting. “they’re right here. available. untouched.” you lean in like you might kiss him—only to plant one on his forehead instead. “yah!” he gasps, eyes wide. “you’re playing games with my heart.” you giggle, and he just melts, face going pink as he buries it in your neck. “not fair. you’re too cute for me to stay mad.” he still wants that kiss though.

YANG JUNGWON

“you’re doing this on purpose,” jungwon mutters, breath hitching when you press a kiss to the corner of his jaw. your fingers cradle his face so gently, brushing his hair back before your mouth trails to his cheek, then his nose, then down to his throat. “aren’t you, baby?” he whispers, voice softer now, almost pouty. every time you get close to his lips, he leans in—just a little—watching you, eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to figure you out, like you’re a puzzle he has to solve. “so mean,” he says with a soft laugh when you duck down to kiss the tip of his chin instead. “my pretty girl’s such a tease,” he mumbles, cheeks flushed, and his hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer. “just one kiss, pretty girl. just here, yeah?”

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki’s already giggling when you kiss the tip of his nose instead of his lips. “you’re so annoying,” he rolls his eyes. but when you skip his lips again, he pulls back just enough to look at you, smirking like he’s already plotting. “okay, two can play this game. let’s see who breaks first.” his tone is playful, eyes gleaming, and before you can respond, he’s peppering kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your collarbone, everywhere but your mouth. “how do you like it, huh?” he teases, grinning against your skin, laughter bubbling up between the two of you. “you started it, baby,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “don’t cry when you lose.”

[tzyunaes]

❜ YOU BELONG WITH ME ◟ 박성훈

𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗥 𖹭 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾? 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾.

' 𝒏. hockey player!sunghoon & coach's daughter fem!reader 5OO. ୨୧ fluff oneshot university au forbidden love ✶ petnames skinship ◜ᯅ◝ 𝑙’ click

note. hi trust i am actually the real tzyunaes.. (acutally no i'm danielle and i want to feed tzyunaes nation so) soooo remember to go follow @flwrstqr for a cookie

SUNGHOON'S BEEN QUIET LATELY. QUIETER THAN USUAL. he doesn’t talk much to begin with, but lately? he’s been dead silent. barely reacting to jokes, zoning out during drills, fidgeting in the locker room like he’s waiting for something—or someone—that never shows up.

and it’s because you haven’t.

you stopped coming to practice. no late-night texts. no showing up to the post-game parties, even though you always slipped in quietly and left before your dad could catch you. it’s been days and it’s driving him crazy. you haven’t even told him why.

so when his teammate nudges him on the bench during the second period and mutters, “isn’t that coach’s daughter? yynn or something?” his head snaps up so fast.

and there you are. sitting a few rows up, hair tucked into a hoodie, his jersey pulled over it. big. oversized. clearly stolen from his closet.

his number. his name.

he swears his heart stops. and then it kicks back in and starts sprinting.

he scores three goals after that.

you swear you’ve never seen him move like that on ice—like he’s got something to prove, like the world’s ending and he has to win before it does. his final goal is followed by a grin and a wink right at you, so fast and so subtle your friends almost miss it.

almost.

did THE park sunghoon just wink at you?”

you freeze. “what?”

“girl,” one of them says, wide-eyed. “he definitely likes you.”

you want to scream. he’s your boyfriend. he calls you baby when you’re curled up in his dorm room and sweetheart when you kiss his bruised knuckles. he kisses your cheek whenever your dad turns around and mouths i miss you across rooms.

but you just shrug and sip your drink, heat creeping up your neck. “you’re imagining things.”

you don’t see him again until after the game.

he corners you in a hallway near the back exit, still in half his gear, helmet under his arm, cheeks pink from the cold—or maybe it’s you.

“you’re here,” he breathes.

you nod, smiling up at him. “missed you.”

he sighs like he’s been holding his breath for days. “you weren’t answering. i thought i did something.”

“you didn’t. i just… needed time. dad was suspicious.”

he leans in, forehead resting against yours, arms sliding around your waist. “don’t disappear on me again, baby. i was losing it.”

you grin. “you scored three goals.”

he smirks, brushing his lips against yours. “was showing off for my girl.”

and then he kisses you, soft but desperate, like he’s catching up for every second you’ve been gone.

like he’s never letting you go again.

[shy9-29]

Do You Ever Shut Up? [s.jy]

pairing - yapper jake x listener reader

“He talked, and I listened—quietly, sometimes frustrated, but always intrigued. It was never about the homework anymore, never about the noise. It was about the quiet moments in between, the ones where I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, the noise was exactly what I needed.”

wc. 18.1k

genre. fluff, high school sweetheart, introvert x extrovert — pt2

You had just transferred to this school at the start of the semester. New hallways, new faces, and the same routine—keep your head down, focus on your grades, and don’t bother trying to make friends. You weren’t rude or anything, just… disinterested. People were loud, messy, distracting. You had better things to do. Like acing every test handed to you and making teachers double-check your answers because they couldn’t believe how fast you worked through problems most kids couldn’t even start.

Within a few weeks, most of the staff knew your name—in a good way. The quiet, brilliant new kid. They praised your essays, passed your math tests around in the break room, and recommended you for everything from science fairs to tutoring programs. You didn’t mind. The praise meant progress, and progress meant a future far away from classrooms full of loudmouths and group projects.

You especially couldn’t stand people who didn’t know how to shut up. The ones who couldn’t go two seconds without blurting something out, who made every lesson drag twice as long. So when your chemistry teacher pulled you aside and said, “Y/N, I’m pairing you up with someone who could use your help,” you already knew it was going to be a disaster.

And then Jake sat down across from you.

Black hoodie unzipped just enough to show the edge of a white tee, black hair falling into his eyes, skin fair and clear like he actually cared about skincare or just had the genetics for it. His baggy jeans hung low on his hips, casual in that effortless kind of way. He looked like the kind of guy who never tried too hard but somehow still caught everyone’s attention.

“Yo! You must be Y/N, right? Man, they really gave me the quietest-looking tutor ever,” he said with a laugh, plopping into the chair across from you like he owned the place. “This is chemistry, right? Honestly, I don’t even remember what we’re learning. Something with… atoms? Explosions?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

He was loud. Way too loud. And friendly. Way too annoying. The kind of guy who talked like you’d known each other for years when you hadn’t even said hi yet. In your head, you were already calculating how many deep breaths it would take to survive the hour without snapping.

This had to be a joke.

Twelve years of school, and somehow your final year—the one that was supposed to be quiet, focused, flawless—had thrown him at you.

He was still talking. Of course he was. “I mean, I sorta remember something about covalent bonds? Or is that the one with sharing? I swear I passed the last test by, like, one percent.” He laughed again, leaning back in his chair like this was some kind of social hour instead of a tutoring session.

You stared at him, silently willing your annoyance to show through your expression. But either he didn’t get the hint… or he just didn’t care.

Jake.

You’d heard of him before today—impossible not to. Not necessarily popular, but everyone knew him. Loud in class, always chiming in with a joke, borderline annoying but weirdly charming in a way that made teachers sigh instead of scream. The kind of guy who never seemed to study, never seemed to worry, and still managed to scrape by.

The exact kind of person you hated working with.

He leaned forward suddenly, elbows on the table, eyes lit up like this was fun for him. “Okay, so, where do we start? You gonna explain it to me like I’m five or are we jumping into full nerd mode?”

You blinked again. “Do you always talk this much?”

He grinned like you’d just complimented him. “Oh yeah. It’s kind of my thing.”

You exhaled slowly, already regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “Great.”

He didn’t seem fazed. In fact, he looked amused. Like your irritation just made you more interesting.

This was going to be a long semester.

The tutoring session had barely started, and already Jake was more interested in you than the worksheet in front of him.

“So, Y/N,” he said, tapping his pen against the desk in a rhythmic, mildly irritating beat. “What kind of music are you into? Wait—lemme guess. Lo-fi? Or classical? You give off major ‘I study with rain sounds’ energy.”

You didn’t look up from your notebook. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, so I was close,” he grinned, like he’d won something. “Rain sounds it is.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to focus on drawing out the molecular structure of ethane, but he wasn’t done. Not even close.

He tilted his head a little, eyes narrowing like he was trying to solve a mystery. “Do you always study alone? Or do you have, like, a secret group of brainiac friends who meet in libraries and whisper about grades?”

You gave him a look over the top of your notebook. “No.”

“Not very talkative, huh?” he said, more curious than offended. “That’s cool. Mysterious. Bet you’ve got a whole double life outside school.”

You sighed. “Do you want to pass chemistry or not?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’m focused now.” A beat passed. “Wait—do you play any sports?”

You didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t asking anything personal exactly, just… personal enough. Stuff people asked when they wanted to know you. Not your grades. You.

“No,” you said flatly. “I don’t do teams.”

Jake nodded like that somehow made perfect sense. “Yeah, I get that. You seem more like a solo mission kind of person. Like a main character in one of those moody indie movies.”

You blinked. “Are you always like this?”

He laughed. “Pretty much. My brain doesn’t know how to shut up. You’ll get used to it.”

You highly doubted that.

Still, somehow… you didn’t tell him to stop.

You weren’t sure how ten minutes had passed and exactly zero chemistry questions had been answered.

Jake was now fiddling with a paperclip he found on the desk, bending it into what looked like a crooked star. “So, do you like this school better than your old one?” he asked, voice casual, like you were old friends catching up instead of two almost-strangers stuck in a forced partnership.

You glanced up, half expecting the question to be another distraction tactic. But he looked genuinely curious.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the worksheet.

He nodded like you’d just shared a whole monologue. “Yeah, I mean, this place kinda sucks, but in like, a tolerable way. The food’s trash, the lockers jam half the time, and the Wi-Fi dies when you actually need it. But hey, the vending machines are alright.”

You didn’t laugh, but the corner of your mouth twitched. A tiny twitch. You prayed he didn’t see it.

Unfortunately, he did.

“Was that a smile? That totally was! Oh my god, I made the quiet genius smile. This is going in my personal highlight reel.”

You rolled your eyes, flipping the page in your notebook harder than necessary. “Can we please focus?”

Jake leaned in, resting his chin on his hand like he had all the time in the world. “Sure, yeah. But just so you know, I’m gonna crack you eventually.”

You blinked at him. “Crack me?”

He grinned. “Get to know you. Make you laugh. You’ve got this whole silent, no-nonsense vibe going, but I bet there’s a cool person hiding under all that academic intensity.”

You didn’t respond. Not because he was wrong—but because, annoyingly, some part of you wondered if he might be right.

Still, you picked up your pen and pointed at the question on the sheet. “What’s the difference between ionic and covalent bonds?”

Jake groaned dramatically, slumping over the desk like you’d just asked him to run a marathon. “Ugh, fine. But I better get, like, one fun fact about you after this.”

You ignored that part. Or at least, you tried to. But your ears felt a little warmer than before.

By the time the clock hit the hour mark, you had managed to get through maybe—maybe—three questions. And even those had taken way longer than they should have, mostly because Jake kept pausing mid-sentence to tell you a random story or ask if pineapple belonged on pizza. (You never gave him a real answer. He took your silence as a “yes.”)

“Same time tomorrow, right?” he asked as he packed up, slinging his backpack over one shoulder like he hadn’t just wasted your entire afternoon. You nodded stiffly, jaw tight. “Yeah.”

“Cool. I’ll bring snacks,” he grinned, already halfway out the door before you could say anything else. “See you then, study buddy!” You didn’t even bother correcting him.

The second he was gone, you slumped back in your chair and let out a frustrated sigh, pressing your fingers to your temples. Your notes were still open, your pen untouched for the last twenty minutes, and your patience? Gone. Absolutely gone.

By the time you got home, you were still stewing. You tossed your bag on your desk with more force than necessary, scowling to yourself as you replayed the entire hour in your head. He’d asked you more questions about your favorite movies and weirdest pet peeves than he had about covalent bonds. He was loud, distracting, borderline infuriating—and worst of all, he didn’t even seem to realize how much he got under your skin. You sat down, pulled out your notebook again, and started rewriting everything you should’ve covered today. Alone. In peace. Like usual. And yet…

You found yourself thinking about that stupid crooked paperclip star he left on the table. And the way he looked so proud when he caught you almost smiling.

Ugh. You hated people like him. Didn’t you?

The next day, you threw your hair up into a bun—more out of practicality than style—and tugged on a soft, oversized knit sweater that hung slightly off one shoulder. Paired with your usual jean shorts and worn sneakers, you looked effortlessly casual, though you hadn’t really meant to. You didn’t care what people thought. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You hadn’t expected to see Jake until your tutoring session later, but the universe clearly hated you because there he was—again—in second period English, slouched in the seat two rows over. You tried to ignore him. You really did.

But then, about halfway through the class, you felt eyes on you. You glanced up, and sure enough, Jake was looking straight at you with a grin like he’d just remembered something funny. And then he waved. Your brows drew together. He wasn’t subtle—he never was—so a few people turned to look, clearly wondering what the hell that was about. You quickly looked back down at your notes, pretending not to notice, pretending your face wasn’t getting warm.

After class, you were barely out the door before you heard, “Y/N! Wait up!”

You turned, only out of reflex, and there he was, weaving through the crowd toward you, beaming like you were best friends.

“You in chem next?” he asked, like it was normal for him to talk to you in the middle of the hallway with people watching. “I was gonna see if you could explain that thing again—the molecule stuff? I was kind of half-listening yesterday. Which, honestly, is a win for me.”

You blinked at him. “We’re not even in the same chem class.”

He laughed. “Yeah, but I still need to pass it. Don’t judge me for multitasking.”

You were about to reply—maybe with a sarcastic comment, maybe just a noise of disapproval—when his friends called out from a few feet away.

“Jake!” Sunoo shouted, brows raised. He and Jay were standing by the lockers, both staring like they’d just seen a ghost. “What are you doing?”

Jake looked back at them, then to you. “I’ll catch you later, alright?” he said, completely unfazed by the attention. “Same time after school?”

You nodded slowly, still confused, still unsure what dimension you’d woken up in.

Jake jogged back over to his friends, who immediately pulled him into some kind of half-hushed interrogation. You couldn’t hear every word, but you caught Sunoo whisper-shouting, “Since when do you talk to Y/N?” and Jay glancing back at you like you were the weird one in this situation.

You rolled your eyes and kept walking.

Let them be confused.

You were still trying to figure it out, too.

You spent the rest of the day trying not to think about Jake. Which, naturally, meant he was all you could think about.

Every time you passed him in the hallway, he either nodded at you like some inside-joke was forming between you two, or—worse—smiled. And not the fake, polite kind. The full-face, toothy, dimpled kind that made people stop and stare because Jake never smiled at just anyone like that. You hated how it stuck with you. Like an echo that wouldn’t quit.

By the time the last bell rang and you were back in the tutoring room, you’d rehearsed a dozen ways to tell him to focus this time, to maybe not spend the entire hour talking about his favorite cartoon as a kid or what he thought his “aura color” was.

But of course, the second he walked in, hoodie slouched on his frame, that damn crooked paperclip star in hand, all your frustration shriveled into confused silence.

“You left this yesterday,” he said, dropping it on the desk in front of you like it was important. “Thought maybe you’d want your good luck charm back.”

You stared at it, then at him. “It’s literally a mangled paperclip.” He shrugged, sliding into the seat across from you. “Yeah, but now it’s sentimental.” You shook your head, trying not to let the faintest laugh escape. “Unbelievable.” Jake opened his notebook—shocking—and tapped his pen thoughtfully. “So. Ionic bonds, right? I did not Google them last night, so you’re gonna have to start from zero.” You blinked at him, almost impressed. “You actually opened your notebook.”

He gave you a mock-offended look. “Hey, I’m trying. You’re a tough tutor, but I think I’m learning. Like yesterday—I remembered you don’t like pineapple on pizza.”

You hadn’t even told him that.

He just… noticed.

You should’ve been annoyed. But instead, a small part of you warmed, just a little.

“Okay,” you said finally, flipping to a fresh page. “Let’s try again.” He leaned forward, scribbling something down as you explained. For once, he wasn’t interrupting. Not too much, anyway.

And even though he still talked way too much—and still asked questions like, “Do you think atoms ever get tired of being stuck together?”—you realized something strange.

You didn’t hate it as much as you thought you would.

Fifteen minutes in, and things were actually going… decent. Jake was focused, or focused enough—nodding along as you explained the difference between polar and non-polar covalent bonds, underlining things, even writing a few notes that didn’t look like doodles. You were cautiously optimistic.

But of course, it didn’t last.

He dropped his pen suddenly and groaned, leaning back in his chair like he was in the middle of a full-blown existential crisis.

You stopped mid-sentence. “What now?”

Jake threw his arms up. “Sorry, I just remembered I have to go home tonight and deal with my Gen Alpha little brother, and my soul left my body for a second.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“He’s so annoying,” Jake said dramatically. “Like, actually evil. You know how people say kids are mean? No—this one is a different breed. I think TikTok rewired his brain. He calls me ‘mid.’ Mid, Y/N. Just walks by and says it for no reason. I breathe and he’s like, ‘L ratio, you fell off.’”

You stared at him.

“He’s eight,” he added, like that made it make more sense. “And he told me I ‘dress like an NPC.’ Like, what does that even mean?”

You let out a breath through your nose, fighting the weird urge to smile. “Didn’t you say earlier you don’t care what people think?”

“Yeah, but that’s before I got verbally destroyed by someone who still watches ‘Cocomelon’ on the family iPad.”

You sighed, flipping back to the page you were on. “Focus, Jake.”

“I am focused. I’m just traumatized.”

You gave him a flat look.

He raised his hands. “Alright, alright. Covalent bonds. Sharing electrons. Got it. But if I randomly zone out again, just know I’m mentally preparing for another roast session when I get home.”

You shook your head and turned back to your notes, trying to pretend you weren’t kind of entertained.

Maybe a little more than “kind of.”

It happened every single time.

You’d sit down, ready to tackle the work, and then within minutes, Jake would start talking about anything but the assignment in front of you. One day it was how his favorite cereal was definitely the best, another time he spent twenty minutes describing his latest failed attempt at cooking dinner (which somehow involved burning a frozen pizza).

Every time, he would throw in a comment like, “Oh, this is easy. You’re a genius, Y/N,” or “Don’t worry, I’m totally listening,” and then proceed to get lost in whatever tangent was running through his head that day.

And for a while, you just kept it in. You stayed patient. You focused on the material while he babbled about his brother, his latest argument with his mom, or how one of his friends was “acting weird” (Jake’s words, not yours).

But by the time the sixth session rolled around, you were fed up.

You were in the middle of explaining the difference between ionic and covalent bonds again—again—when Jake started tapping his pencil against the desk. Tap, tap, tap. Then he started humming under his breath. Then he picked up his phone and checked his messages.

You could feel your patience unraveling, thread by thread.

“Jake,” you said, voice calm but strained, “I’m trying to help you here.”

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbled, not even looking up. “Sorry, sorry, I’m paying attention. Keep going.”

You gripped your pen tightly, taking a slow breath before you snapped, “Jake, I don’t know what you see here, but we are not friends. I’m not your personal therapist or your stand-in babysitter, and I’m definitely not here to listen to you talk about your annoying brother for the hundredth time.”

The words came out faster than you expected, a flood of frustration you’d been holding in for weeks. “I don’t care about your cereal preferences or how you totally destroyed your frozen pizza. You want to pass this class? Then focus. Or I’m done helping you. I’m not doing this anymore.”

For the first time in the several weeks of tutoring, Jake went completely silent. His pencil froze in mid-air, and his eyes widened, not in that usual playful way, but in actual surprise.

You didn’t care. You shoved your notebook aside, stood up, and grabbed your bag. “I can’t keep doing this, Jake. It’s exhausting, and I’m honestly tired of being disrespected every time I try to help you.”

He still didn’t say anything.

For a moment, you almost regretted it. Maybe you had been too harsh. But as you turned toward the door, you glanced back at him. He hadn’t moved. He was staring at his desk, eyes focused on something—or maybe nothing at all.

Jake was quiet. For the first time, he wasn’t talking. Not even a comment. Not a joke. Nothing.

Jake sat there for a long moment, his pencil still suspended in mid-air, the usual spark in his eyes completely absent. The silence between you both felt heavy, suffocating, and for the first time since this whole tutoring thing started, you felt the tension shift.

You almost expected him to crack some joke, to brush it off like he always did, but instead, he just… stayed silent. The kind of silence that made your skin prickle, like something was about to change. Something you couldn’t quite control.

For a second, you regretted what you’d said. Maybe you’d gone too far? Maybe you shouldn’t have snapped like that. But then again, maybe he needed to hear it.

You turned back to him, ready to speak, to apologize, maybe, but the words stuck in your throat.

Jake finally dropped his pencil, his fingers running through his hair as he leaned back in his chair. His gaze stayed on the desk, avoiding yours, and his lips pressed into a tight line, like he was holding something back.

“I get it,” he muttered after what felt like an eternity. His voice was different now—no teasing, no playfulness. Just… quiet. “I wasn’t really… taking this seriously, huh?”

You didn’t say anything, unsure if you should respond or just let him process it.

“I didn’t mean to waste your time,�� he added, glancing up at you with an expression you didn’t quite recognize. It wasn’t playful, wasn’t cocky. It was genuine. “I guess I just… I don’t know. I thought if I made it more fun, it would be easier. Or maybe I thought I could mess around and still get by like I always do.”

You could feel the frustration and guilt bubbling up inside of you, but you crossed your arms and held your ground. “You can’t keep doing that, Jake. It’s not fair to me, and it’s definitely not fair to you.”

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure what to say next. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost under his breath. “I’ll try harder. I just… I guess I got used to things being easy and not, you know, actually working for them.”

You were silent for a moment, watching him closely. For all his noise, his interruptions, and his distractions, this was the first time he seemed to truly care about what was happening in front of him.

“Good,” you said quietly. “Because if you want to pass, really pass, you’re gonna have to start actually trying.”

Jake nodded, his usual grin absent, but there was something softer in his expression now. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll focus. I promise. Just… don’t give up on me, alright?”

You felt a small flicker of something—maybe relief, maybe frustration—pass through you. “I’m not giving up on you. I just need you to show up, Jake. For yourself.”

He met your eyes then, something unspoken passing between you two. And for once, you didn’t have to explain it. He understood.

The next day, you walked into the tutoring room with your usual steady pace, preparing yourself for another round of distractions, interruptions, and Jake’s relentless chatter. You had half-prepared yourself for him to slip back into his old habits—because that’s just who he was. He’d brush off yesterday’s moment and go back to the loud, talkative guy who couldn’t sit still for five minutes. That was what you were expecting.

But when Jake showed up, it was… different.

He was already sitting at the desk when you walked in, his backpack slung over his chair, and he was quiet. You glanced at him, unsure if you were just imagining it. The room felt oddly still, with no humming, no random comments about how you were “definitely the smartest person in the room” or stories about his brother calling him “mid.”

He barely acknowledged you, his eyes focused on the open notebook in front of him, his pen tapping gently against the pages like he was thinking about something. Normally, he would’ve cracked a joke or some random remark about how hard chemistry was—but today, he didn’t.

You paused at the door, looking at him for a moment longer, waiting for him to say something. But nothing came. Not even a greeting.

You sighed, shaking your head as you sat down across from him. “You good?” you asked, trying to break the silence.

Jake’s head lifted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Just… wanted to focus today. If that’s okay.”

For a second, you were thrown off. The change was… unsettling. The room felt quieter than usual. Too quiet.

You took a slow breath, trying to process it, but it wasn’t exactly easy. The constant noise, the banter, the Jake-ness that you’d gotten used to over the last few weeks—it was all gone. Now, he was just there. Quiet.

“Okay,” you said slowly, settling into your chair and trying to ignore the weirdness building up between you two. You picked up your pen, glancing at the worksheet in front of you. “Then let’s get to it.”

And so you did. You went through the material, explaining things like you normally would. Jake didn’t interrupt. He didn’t ask random questions or make jokes. He didn’t even fidget.

He was… listening. Actually listening. Really listening.

You’d thought it would feel like a relief, but instead, it was strange. You weren’t used to this version of Jake—the quiet one. The one who didn’t fill the silence with stories or pointless chatter. The one who was just… present.

It made you feel a little off-balance, unsure of how to act.

You hummed softly under your breath, trying to focus on the lesson without the usual distractions. The silence was deafening in its own way, but somehow, it felt… more comfortable. Even if it wasn’t what you were used to.

Jake looked up at you once, his eyes scanning your face, and you almost thought he was about to say something. But he just… nodded, his hand moving to scribble something in his notebook.

And for the rest of the session, you both worked in an unusual, almost peaceful quiet.

It was only then you realized how much you actually missed his constant noise.

The next day, as you were settling into your usual seat, Jake walked in with his usual easy stride, but this time, there was something different in his expression. It was a mixture of nervousness and excitement that didn’t quite match his usual laid-back energy.

He plopped down across from you and immediately opened his mouth. “Okay, so, random thought. I was thinking I should join an extracurricular.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure where this was going. “You’re already in, like, five different things.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, but none of them are fun, you know? I need something that actually interests me.” His eyes lit up like he’d just found a hidden treasure. “I think I’m gonna join the debate club.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Debate club?”

“Yeah! I’ve been watching these debates online, and they look so intense. Plus, I bet I could totally crush it. I mean, I talk all the time, so why not make it official?”

You paused, leaning back in your chair. “You do talk a lot, don’t you?”

Jake grinned. “Exactly! It’s the perfect fit.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Well, if you’re serious about it, the debate team’s pretty good. They’re always looking for fresh blood.”

Jake leaned forward, looking a little unsure for the first time. “Yeah, but, uh… I really don’t want to end up being paired up with someone super serious. I need someone who gets it. Someone who won’t just stare at me when I’m trying to argue my point. You know, someone who won’t be super intense about it.”

You blinked. “And you think that’s going to be—?”

He grinned widely. “You. Obviously.”

You froze, caught off guard by his sudden confidence. “What? No way. I’m not gonna be your partner.”

Jake gave you a half-smirk. “Why not? You already know the material, you’re sharp. We could totally own this.”

You shook your head, still not entirely convinced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We barely survive tutoring sessions without me losing my mind.”

Jake just shrugged, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Come on, it could be fun. I promise I won’t talk your ear off during debates. Maybe.”

You gave him a skeptical look but didn’t say much else, just hoping he’d drop it. You knew Jake—he had a way of pushing until he got what he wanted.

The next day, you walked into the debate club meeting with your usual sense of reluctance. As always, the board at the front of the room had a list of members, paired up for upcoming debates. You moved through the crowd, skimming the names until you saw it.

Your heart sank.

There, in neat black letters, were your names. Right beside each other.

Y/N and Jake.

You froze, your stomach doing a weird flip as you scanned the board again to make sure you weren’t seeing things. No. It was real.

You turned to look at Jake, who was standing a few feet away, his grin wide and completely unapologetic.

“See?” he said, winking at you as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Told you we’d make a killer team.”

You groaned internally. This was going to be interesting—and not in the good way.

Trying to swallow down your frustration, you looked over at him. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Jake just shrugged again, that damn grin still plastered on his face. “Well, now we have to do this. Might as well make the best of it, right?”

You stared at him for a long moment before sighing. “I guess.”

And so, with your names officially paired together on the board, you realized that this was going to be a whole new level of chaos you never saw coming.

The day you found out you were paired with Jake for the debate was a mess in itself, but the fact that it happened while you were on your period just made everything a hundred times worse. The usual irritation, the cramps, the exhaustion, and then—Jake—your perpetually loud, always-talking tutoring partner now also your debate team partner? It felt like the universe was conspiring against you.

You were sitting at the debate table with him, the rest of the team already getting into their discussions. You felt a headache coming on, your patience worn thin, and yet you were stuck with Jake, who was so eager about everything and so unbothered by your obvious lack of enthusiasm.

He had this unshakable grin on his face, his usual energy dialed up to an eleven as he enthusiastically listed off arguments for the topic. You could barely focus on anything but the mounting frustration. You could feel your blood simmering as he babbled about points, cutting through everything you wanted to say. You’d gotten the message—he liked to talk. You got it. He liked to talk a lot.

And here you were, forced to sit through it. For the first time, you had no patience left for his unfiltered commentary.

You had tried, at first, to engage—pointing out some key arguments and trying to follow the structure. But Jake wouldn’t let up. He kept interrupting, going off on tangents about how he absolutely knew his point was the best and why the opposition was always going to lose, not realizing he was starting to sound like a broken record.

The anger you’d been keeping inside all day from the stress of it all, the frustration, the lack of sleep—it just built and built.

“Jake,” you said, through clenched teeth, trying to stay calm. “Just focus. We have to make an actual case here.”

He grinned at you, unfazed. “Yeah, but listen, listen—hear me out, we can totally make this point sound better if we—”

You couldn’t even stand the way he kept cutting you off. His voice, his energy—it felt like it was bouncing off every surface of the room, and you were just… done.

So you did the only thing that was left in your power: you shut down.

You kept your eyes on the debate board, nodding absently to everything Jake said, too tired to argue, too angry to even care. The words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. You let him drone on and on, tuning out every bit of his rambling, just letting his voice wash over you without hearing a single word.

“Y/N, you get me, right?” Jake said, clearly expecting some kind of enthusiastic response. He was waiting for validation, something you were so tired of giving him.

You just nodded, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah, sure.”

His grin only widened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to react. The words felt like they were bouncing off a wall. You just didn’t care.

He rambled about how the opposition would have no chance against their “undefeatable argument” or how his points would totally blow everyone away. And you just sat there, nodding, fighting the urge to snap and scream at him to shut up.

By the time the debate was winding down, you had become the very picture of indifference. Every time Jake threw out a new idea, you just nodded along, your face a mask of calm that belied the tornado of frustration swirling in your mind.

You weren’t going to argue. You weren’t going to get into it. You didn’t have the energy. It was the same as always—Jake talking, you tuning out, and this endless, looping cycle where you did all the work, and he filled the silence with whatever nonsense he thought was important.

When the debate ended and the team moved on, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Jake slapped you on the back, still grinning.

“That went well, right?” he said, full of excitement.

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak without snapping. “Yeah. Sure.”

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to defend yourself or argue with him. You had nothing left to give. You just wanted to leave, to go home, curl up with your book and forget that you ever had to share a space with a guy who never stopped talking.

Every single day, Jake never ran out of things to talk about. Not once. He’d start with random observations about the weather, then shift to a story about how he almost got kicked out of his favorite coffee shop because of his constant “misunderstanding” of their rules. Or maybe he’d talk about his old life in Australia, how he missed the beach and how “everything was way less complicated” back there. Then, it would spiral into a tangent about a movie he watched the night before, then his latest argument with his brother, then—somehow—back to chemistry. But the thing was, he never actually focused on the work. Not for long, anyway.

You would sit there, your pen poised over your notes, trying your best to stay focused on the lesson. But it was hard. Jake would say something about how the electrons were “basically like the ‘bad boys’ of atoms” and you’d just stare at him, caught in the ridiculousness of his comparison. Or maybe he’d start talking about how much he hated the new gym teacher, complaining about how strict she was and how he’d “get so much more out of it if she just let him talk a little more.”

And the more he talked, the more you realized you weren’t really paying attention to the chemistry anymore. You were just… listening. Listening to him. Watching the way his eyes sparkled when he was excited about something, how his lips would curl into that mischievous grin whenever he said something he thought was hilarious.

He had this way of making everything seem like an adventure, even the most mundane details. His Australian accent, with just the right amount of smoothness and charm, mixed with his Korean roots, was oddly soothing. It felt like he was always on the verge of cracking a joke, but somehow, it didn’t get annoying. It was just… him.

Somehow, you found yourself unwinding in his presence, even though you should’ve been getting work done. His voice, the way he gestured wildly with his hands when he was making a point, the way his hair fell in just the right way over his forehead—it all made it hard to focus on anything but him.

There were moments when you found yourself completely still, watching him talk, completely lost in his energy. It was like you couldn’t even think of a way to look away. Every word that came out of his mouth felt like it mattered, even if it was nonsense about some random celebrity gossip or how he thought pineapple didn’t belong on pizza (which you didn’t even agree with, but you just nodded along, letting him talk).

But then there were the whispers.

You heard them the first time when you were sitting in the library, working on a group project with Jake nearby. A few girls were gossiping behind you, their voices too low for anyone else to catch but not too quiet for you. “Do you think they’re dating? They’re always together.”

“Yeah, they’re always hanging out. I bet she likes him.”

You didn’t want to react to it. Didn’t want to give any of it attention, but it lingered in the back of your mind. You’d heard things like that before. You and Jake were always together, weren’t you? You tutored him. You were partners in debate. Of course, people would talk. But hearing it out loud, hearing people wonder about something that wasn’t even close to being true—it made you uncomfortable.

But what bothered you even more was how Jake never seemed to notice it. He was always talking, always oblivious, always too busy to hear the gossip that followed you two. And in some way, that made you even more irritated. Maybe he had no idea how much people were watching, how much they were speculating.

Still, you pushed it to the back of your mind. It didn’t matter. You had bigger things to focus on—like your grades, like your future, like everything but Jake and whatever these people thought. But as you stared at him—at the way he leaned in, totally absorbed in some random story about his childhood in Australia, his voice carrying with that same mix of confidence and humor—you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he really looked.

It wasn’t just that he had the sharp jawline or the way his eyes always glinted when he talked, but it was the way he was so himself. He was loud, he was chaotic, and for some weird reason, it made him kind of irresistible. The way he didn’t try to fit into anyone’s expectations, the way he was always so… unapologetically Jake.

And in that moment, you realized that, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t listening to him talk just because he was your tutoring partner or your debate teammate. You were listening because you wanted to. You were watching him, not just because he was talking, but because you couldn’t stop.

So, as he kept on with his never-ending stories and distractions, you sat there, still. The work in front of you forgotten, your focus entirely on him. You didn’t know what you were thinking or how you’d gotten here, but all you knew was that the longer he talked, the harder it became to look away.

The night before the debate, you sat at your desk, staring at the empty pages in front of you. Your textbooks were open, but your mind was elsewhere—mostly, on how much you hadn’t done. You should’ve been preparing, memorizing points, going over counterarguments, reviewing the outline. But instead, all you did was sit there for hours listening to Jake yap about everything under the sun, from his favorite video games to how he thought the new coffee shop in town was overrated. He’d talk about the dumbest things, and you’d listen, because, well, you couldn’t escape it. The more he talked, the less you cared about the debate material.

The clock ticked by, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were completely unprepared. The debate was tomorrow. Tomorrow.

You rubbed your face with both hands in frustration. You had barely touched the material. It was all just Jake’s voice in your head—his stories, his jokes, his random rants—filling the spaces where your preparation should’ve been. You had nothing. No solid points. No real arguments. Just a head full of Jake.

When the day of the debate finally arrived, you felt like you were walking into a battlefield completely unarmed. You tried to do a last-minute run-through of the main ideas, but it was useless. Every time you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but think about how Jake would be his usual loud, distracting self.

And sure enough, when Jake walked into the room where you were supposed to prep for the debate, he started up immediately. He wasn’t even five seconds in the door before he was talking.

“Yo, did you see the new episode of that show I was telling you about last week? It’s like they finally listened to the fans, you know?” he said, completely oblivious to the anxious look on your face.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the voice in your head screaming at you to focus. But it didn’t matter. Jake just kept talking. You barely even knew what he was saying anymore. His words were like background noise, a constant hum that made it impossible for you to concentrate.

“Jake!” you snapped, your patience snapping like a brittle twig. “Can you just stop for a minute?! I can’t even think with you yapping like that.”

He blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. “Whoa, what’s with the attitude?”

“What’s with your attitude?” you shot back, frustration bleeding into your voice. “I’m stressed, I’m unprepared, and all you do is talk! You’re making it worse. I’m trying to focus, but you won’t let me! I’m behind because of you!” You could feel the anger bubbling up from somewhere deep inside, everything you’d been holding in for so long now pouring out in one sharp burst. “You’re just so… annoying!”

The room fell silent, and you could feel the weight of everyone’s gaze on you. Jake’s eyes widened for the first time, and there was a moment of stillness. He blinked, and then his usual cocky grin was gone. Instead, there was something sharper in his gaze.

“I’m annoying?” he shot back, voice rising for the first time. “What about you, huh? All you do is sit there and act like you’re so perfect, but I’ve been doing everything I can to help, to talk to you—to be your friend—and you barely even try! You don’t even care that I’m here. I’m just trying to help, but you keep acting like I’m the problem!”

For the first time ever, Jake wasn’t the one rambling aimlessly. He was serious, his tone harsh, and it caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not exactly all in either. So yeah, maybe I talk too much, maybe I annoy you—but at least I’m here, at least I’m trying!” His voice had a cutting edge to it. “You act like I’m dragging you down, but you never actually try to keep up. Maybe that’s why we’re behind. You’re never engaged, never focused. You don’t even care about this—you care about being annoyed.”

You were completely stunned into silence. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped, like everyone was watching a car crash in slow motion. The room was completely still.

Then, from the back of the room, someone muttered, “Oh my God, just kiss already.”

You whipped your head toward the voice, heart pounding in your chest. It was the debate coach, shaking his head with a grin that wasn’t even trying to hide how amused he was by the tension.

A couple of people snickered, others exchanged awkward glances. You and Jake stood there, staring at each other, caught in this strange, new atmosphere that neither of you were quite prepared for. The sudden attention was enough to make your face flush with embarrassment, but it also gave you the clarity you needed. You realized you’d both been playing this ridiculous game for weeks, but now—now it was out in the open. And for once, neither of you could pretend like everything was fine. The cracks were visible.

For a second, you didn’t know what to say. But Jake, with his usual awkward grin, broke the silence.

“Guess we better actually start preparing, huh?” he said, his tone lighter but still laced with that underlying tension. “If we’re gonna be partnered up like this, I mean.”

You nodded, your chest tight, unsure of what to think or say next. “Yeah.”

And with that, the moment passed, but everything had changed. The debate was tomorrow, but now, you were facing something completely different—the lines between frustration, annoyance, and something else were blurrier than ever.

The next day of the debate came and went faster than you expected. You had been so focused on trying to get everything together that you had barely noticed the time passing. Surprisingly, you managed to get through the entire thing without completely falling apart. You were organized, you were prepared—and you had actually done all the work. Jake, true to form, spent most of the time talking about his ideas and rambling off thoughts that barely made sense, but you had managed to rein it in, turning his chatter into something halfway coherent. It felt like the work you’d been avoiding for weeks had come to fruition in a single, intense hour of debate.

Somehow, you won. The team won. And despite Jake’s non-stop talking, despite his distractibility, you pulled it off.

When the results were announced, you tried not to show how much relief flooded your system. You glanced at Jake, who was looking as stunned as you felt. You had done it.

As you walked to your locker afterward, head down, trying to process the fact that you’d somehow survived, you heard hurried footsteps behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Jake’s voice was unmistakable.

“You did it,” he said, breathless, catching up to you with a wide, triumphant grin. “We actually won!”

You couldn’t suppress the small wave of pride that crested in your chest, but you didn’t let it show too much. It was just another task done, another hurdle cleared. You should’ve felt accomplished—but you couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that everything was just a bit too chaotic.

Jake, however, was absolutely beaming, his eyes sparkling with excitement, clearly over the moon. And then, without any warning, he reached out and wrapped his arms around you in an enthusiastic, almost too tight hug. His head rested briefly on your shoulder, and for a second, you froze. It was awkward. It was too much. You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and it made your skin crawl, your stomach twist in discomfort. The kind of discomfort that made you want to shove him off, but you stayed still, not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the hallway.

“Seriously, I couldn’t have done it without you,” Jake said, pulling back, grinning widely.

You stepped back slightly, not sure what to do with yourself. “It’s fine. It was a team effort,” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

But then, just as you were about to turn back to your locker, you felt it—a tug at the corner of your lips. Before you could even process it, a small, involuntary smile crept onto your face. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there.

You hated to admit it, but that moment—the hug—felt different. It wasn’t just Jake being his annoying, talkative self. It was something else. You didn’t know how to categorize it, but a part of you didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would. That small, unwelcome smile lingered for just a moment longer before you cleared your throat and turned your attention back to your locker.

“Whatever,” you muttered, pushing your books into your bag. “It’s over. We won. Let’s leave it at that.”

Jake didn’t seem to mind your coldness. If anything, he seemed even more amused by it. “You’re always so chill,” he teased, nudging you with his shoulder. “You don’t show it, but I know you’re happy we won.”

You couldn’t help the tiny roll of your eyes, but you were smiling, even if it was just a little bit. It was strange. You didn’t want to get used to it, didn’t want to think about why you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. But there was no denying it. Something had shifted.

You just didn’t know what.

The next few days felt like a blur. The debate was over, and somehow, against all odds, you and Jake had come out victorious. But that victory didn’t change the fact that your tutoring sessions with him were far from smooth sailing. You were nearing the end of the two remaining sessions you had agreed to, and despite your best intentions to stay focused, it was like nothing had changed. Jake still showed up late, still launched into tangents the second he sat down, still had that never-ending need to fill every silence with his voice.

At first, you tried to keep your patience in check, tried to redirect him to the material. You even tried muttering a few “focus, Jake”s under your breath, but it wasn’t long before you gave up. You stopped trying to manage him. You let him talk. Let him yap. And, strangely enough, you didn’t mind anymore.

As he rambled on about his annoying Gen Alpha brother, how he kept stealing his clothes and breaking his gaming consoles, you didn’t even bother pretending to care. Your pen rested idly in your hand as you stared at the pages in front of you, letting the words flow in one ear and out the other. You caught yourself watching him instead. You noticed the way his hands moved when he talked, the way he always seemed to forget what he was saying halfway through, only to quickly come up with another topic. His lips, his eyes, the way he ran a hand through his hair when he was trying to find the right word—it was all so… familiar now. It wasn’t annoying anymore. It was just him.

You hadn’t realized how much you were just listening until the silence suddenly hit. Jake, for once, had stopped talking.

You glanced up, your gaze catching his, and you noticed something different in his expression. It wasn’t the usual easygoing grin or cocky smirk. It was something more subdued, more thoughtful. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The air felt thick with that kind of tension that usually accompanied an unspoken question.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jake asked suddenly, breaking the quiet with a soft laugh, though there was something almost vulnerable in his voice.

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. You hadn’t even realized you were staring.

“I—I wasn’t staring,” you muttered, suddenly aware of how hot your face was. But it didn’t matter, because you couldn’t look away. He was staring at you now, too. It was like a silent challenge, something you couldn’t quite place but felt undeniably real.

There was a brief silence as you both just… stared. Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke. You weren’t sure if it was because you were finally noticing something you hadn’t before, or because there was something you were both avoiding.

Finally, Jake broke the silence again, this time in a quieter tone. “You know, you don’t always have to pretend you don’t care about me, right?”

Your breath hitched at the unexpected words. For a moment, you thought about snapping something sarcastic, something to deflect. But then you realized that the words felt different coming from him. They didn’t carry the usual teasing lilt. They were softer. Almost… uncertain.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for the first time in weeks, you were struck by the thought that maybe you didn’t have all the answers. Maybe it wasn’t just Jake talking anymore. Maybe it was something else entirely. Something you didn’t quite know how to handle. You stared at him for another moment, the words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but all you could do was swallow them back down.

Instead, you just nodded, a simple acknowledgment. “Yeah. Maybe.”

And with that, the moment passed. Jake’s grin slowly returned, and you both fell back into the rhythm you had known so well. He resumed his rambling, but this time, you didn’t fight it. You just… listened.

The tutoring session had ended, and you packed up your things with the usual methodical precision, still processing everything that had happened. Jake was nowhere to be seen, probably chatting with someone or off doing something else, as he always did. You stood in front of your desk, organizing your notes, trying not to think about how strange the last hour had felt. It was different than usual—less frustrating, maybe even a little… comfortable? But you weren’t ready to unpack that yet.

As you gathered your things, you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside the classroom. You glanced up, spotting Sunoo, who was leaning casually against the doorframe, waiting for Jake. He gave you a quick smile, but it didn’t last long before he turned his attention back down the hallway.

“Hey, you,” Sunoo called to Jake as he appeared in the doorway. “Ready to go for your early birthday dinner?”

Jake waved him off, flashing a quick grin. “Yeah, yeah, just a second. I gotta grab my stuff,” he said, his voice distracted.

Sunoo crossed his arms, leaning back into the doorframe and flashing a mischievous grin. “You’re awfully distracted today. Been talking to Y/N a little too much, huh?”

Jake froze, almost imperceptibly, and glanced back at Sunoo with a raised brow. “What?” he asked, faking innocence, but the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

Sunoo’s grin only grew wider, clearly teasing now. “I don’t know, man. You’ve been acting… different. Like, every time I see you after tutoring, you’re all smiley and weird. What, do you like her or something?”

Jake’s expression shifted, and for a brief moment, he looked almost… unsure. He glanced down at the floor, his hands in his pockets, but then he looked up at Sunoo with a small, almost sheepish grin.

“I think I do,” he murmured softly, just enough for Sunoo to catch the words, his tone quieter than usual.

Sunoo’s eyes widened slightly, his lips curling into a smile. “Oh? Ohhhh, so that’s what’s going on.” His voice was light, but his eyes held a knowing gleam. “You might wanna figure that out, man.”

Jake’s response was lost in a brief moment of hesitation, but he didn’t argue. He simply gave a small shrug. “Let’s just go, alright? We’ll talk later.”

Sunoo nodded, clearly still amused, and without missing a beat, he turned back toward the hallway. Jake followed him, and as they walked down the corridor, they began chatting about something else entirely, and the sound of their voices faded as they made their way toward the stairs.

You, however, had been too busy packing your things to hear anything more than a few quiet words exchanged between them. You didn’t catch what Sunoo had said. You didn’t hear the soft confession that Jake had made to him.

For you, the moment passed like everything else—leaving you to continue your life with no idea that something had shifted between you and Jake.

The next day, when Jake showed up for tutoring, something was different. It wasn’t the usual loud, chaotic energy he brought into the room, the constant stream of words that filled every quiet space. Today, he was quieter—not the usual loud, distracted Jake, but something more… subdued. He still had that confident, easygoing aura, but he wasn’t talking just for the sake of talking. It was almost like he was holding back, like he had something on his mind but wasn’t sure whether to say it.

You glanced up from your notes when he sat down across from you, his eyes a little more focused, but there was something in the way he was fidgeting with his pen that made you feel like he wasn’t entirely present. It wasn’t the normal Jake you’d gotten used to—the one who would drop a random fact or ask a weird question out of nowhere. He was… different today. Still there, but quieter. Almost as if he was waiting for something.

For a while, the two of you just worked in silence. You, flipping through your notes, trying to make sense of everything you were supposed to know for the upcoming test. Jake, scribbling away on his homework, but it was clear his mind wasn’t entirely on the assignment.

Finally, after what felt like a long stretch of silence, Jake cleared his throat.

“Hey, so, um…” he started, his voice a little hesitant, an unfamiliar shift in his tone. You looked up from your paper, sensing the change in his demeanor. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting around the room, before meeting your gaze. “I was wondering… you know, my birthday dinner is tonight, and, uh… well, I thought maybe you’d want to come.”

You blinked at him, surprised. It wasn’t like Jake to ask you directly about something personal, and even more so, it was strange that he was asking you to join him at his birthday dinner. You weren’t the type for parties. You didn’t even like them, to be honest. You preferred quiet nights, your routine, your space.

“I… I don’t really do parties,” you replied, shrugging slightly, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I’m not really into big social gatherings.”

Jake, however, wasn’t deterred. His eyes softened, and you could see that he wasn’t about to drop it that easily.

“Come on,” he said, his voice taking on a playful, almost pleading tone. “It’ll be fun! Just for a little bit. You don’t even have to stay long, I promise. It’s just a small dinner with my friends… and… you know, I kind of want you to be there.”

His words caught you off guard, more than you’d like to admit. Jake, being the charismatic guy he was, didn’t beg. He wasn’t the type to be earnest about stuff like this. But now, with that small, almost shy grin on his face, and the way he was looking at you—almost like he was unsure of how to convince you—it was hard to say no.

You felt the tug of guilt. You knew he was just asking because he wanted you to be there—maybe even needed you to be there—and it was difficult to shake that thought.

“I really don’t know…” you started, but before you could finish, Jake jumped in, his voice becoming more determined.

“Please, Y/N,” he said, his eyes bright with that familiar spark. “Just this once. I swear I’ll make it worth your while. You can even leave early if you want. But, uh, it’d really mean a lot to me if you came.”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair, feeling the pressure of his request weighing on you. It was just one night, one dinner. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

You let out a sigh, caving in. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Jake’s grin lit up, and you could practically see the relief flood through him. “Yes!” He immediately sat up straighter, looking way too pleased with himself. “It’s going to be fun. I promise. I’ll make sure it’s not boring.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips, despite yourself. “Alright, alright, I’m going. But don’t expect me to stay long.”

Jake chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. “Deal! I’ll make sure it’s short and sweet.”

And with that, the air between you two lightened once more. You could still feel that odd shift in the way Jake was acting today, but you pushed it to the back of your mind for now. You had given in, and you’d show up.

After all, it was his birthday.

You had no idea what to get Jake. You’d spent the last two hours walking around the mall, looking at store after store, trying to figure out what someone like him would even want. Jake was… well, Jake. He was loud, unpredictable, and always seemed to have everything figured out. He had everything you could think of: clothes, gadgets, sneakers—there was nothing obvious that you could buy him. You didn’t know him well enough to pick something meaningful, and you couldn’t just pick up something random and hope it worked. What did a guy like him even like?

Your mind raced, and as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself getting more and more frustrated. You checked your watch—two hours until his birthday dinner, and you still had nothing. Your phone buzzed with a reminder: “Get something for Jake!”

I’m trying, okay? you thought, shoving the phone back into your bag.

You had already bought a new top, a light pink short-sleeve shirt, hoping to look cute but not overdo it. It was casual, but still nice enough for dinner. You’d paired it with a simple white skirt—something you could move comfortably in, without feeling overdressed. You even styled your hair, which was rare for you. It felt like too much effort, but for some reason, today, you actually wanted to look… well, pretty. You wanted to look like you had at least tried.

But as you walked through the mall for the second time, your energy started to wane. The buzz of the crowd, the brightly lit stores, and the overwhelming number of options were draining. You stopped in front of a display with colorful mugs and keychains, wondering if maybe something small and quirky would be the right choice. But as you picked up a keychain shaped like a gaming controller, you immediately put it back. No way.

You checked your watch again. You had no time to overthink it anymore. You just had to pick something.

Ugh, why is this so hard?

You felt yourself getting more and more exhausted with every step. Your feet ached from walking so much, and the pressure of getting Jake’s gift just right was starting to eat at you. You glanced down at your outfit. The light pink shirt and white skirt felt okay—cute enough, but what if it was too much for a casual dinner? What if it was too little? You sighed, shaking your head.

You were halfway across the mall now, eyes scanning the stores around you, when you spotted a small boutique tucked in a corner. Maybe, just maybe, there would be something in there. You took a deep breath and walked toward it, hoping this wouldn’t be another disappointment.

You had no clue what Jake really wanted. You didn’t know what was cool for a guy like him. But you were determined to figure it out.

You just hoped you wouldn’t have to walk around the mall for another hour.

As you walked through the boutique, your mind kept wandering back to Jake’s offhand comment a few days ago. You remembered him telling you, between rants about his annoying little brother and his hectic school life, about his dog, Layla. His eyes had softened as he talked about her—there was something about the way he spoke that told you just how much he missed her.

“She’s a Border Collie,” Jake had said, smiling wistfully. “Back in Australia… She’s a good dog, always hyper and, like, way smarter than me. I swear she knows exactly what I’m thinking half the time. I miss her a lot.”

You remembered the way his voice had trailed off, as if the thought of his dog—so far away now—was too painful to fully dive into. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But now, as you browsed through the small boutique, the memory of his words stuck with you.

The shop was full of delicate trinkets, little charms hanging from gold and silver chains. You walked past a display case filled with bracelets, each more charming than the last. Your fingers grazed the edges of the glass as you looked over them, and that’s when something caught your eye. A simple bracelet—gold, with a tiny charm hanging from it.

It was small and delicate, but the charm was unmistakable. The letter “L” was etched into the metal, accompanied by a small, detailed charm shaped like a dog’s paw. A Border Collie’s paw, if you looked closely enough.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit you. The bracelet was perfect. It wasn’t too flashy, just subtle enough that it wouldn’t draw too much attention, but meaningful. A little nod to Layla, Jake’s dog—something that would remind him of home and the bond he shared with her.

You felt a small smile tug at your lips as you gently picked up the bracelet, your fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the letter “L”. It felt right. The weight of it in your hand seemed to settle all the nerves that had been gnawing at you for the past few hours. This was the gift. You didn’t need to search anymore.

For a brief moment, you found yourself imagining Jake’s reaction—his face lighting up when he saw it, maybe a little surprised, maybe even touched. You thought back to the way he had looked when he mentioned Layla, and you could almost hear the fondness in his voice. It felt like the right thing to do.

With a small sigh of relief, you walked up to the counter and paid for the bracelet, feeling a sense of satisfaction that you hadn’t expected. It wasn’t some grand gesture, but you were pretty sure it would mean something to him.

You hoped it would be enough.

You arrived at the restaurant a little later than expected—traffic had been a nightmare. Your phone had buzzed multiple times, notifications from Jake, probably wondering where you were, but you’d been too caught up in the mess of cars and honking horns to reply. By the time you walked through the doors, you were sure you were the last person to arrive.

The restaurant was buzzing with the chatter of diners, the smoky smell of sizzling meat hanging in the air. As your eyes scanned the room, you immediately spotted Jake, sitting at a table with a couple of unfamiliar faces. You didn’t recognize them at first, but they were laughing and talking comfortably, clearly already deep into their meal. Sunoo and Jay were there too, sitting beside Jake, looking over at you as you approached.

Jake caught your eye right away. He straightened up, but when he saw you, there was a small flicker of surprise that crossed his face, followed by a look of relief. He had probably assumed you weren’t coming.

“Oh, hey! You made it!” he called out, his voice bright and welcoming, as if he hadn’t been quietly wondering where you’d been all this time.

The two unfamiliar faces turned their attention to you. One was a tall guy with sharp features and a friendly smile, the other a girl with short hair and an easygoing demeanor. They both looked at you, curious but polite. It was clear that they didn’t expect you to be showing up at all, and when they saw you, their expressions turned into warm but surprised greetings.

“Ah, you’re here!” the tall guy said with a smile, waving you over. “We thought you weren’t going to make it.”

You smiled awkwardly, shrugging a little as you made your way to the table. “Yeah, traffic was terrible. Sorry I’m late.”

Jake slid over, making room for you next to him, his usual grin back in full force. “No problem,” he said. “Come join us. This is Minho,” he pointed to the guy, who gave you a friendly nod, “and this is Jisoo,” he pointed to the girl, who smiled warmly. “They’re both friends from my class.”

You sat down, grateful for the space they’d made for you, and immediately noticed that Sunoo and Jay seemed more interested in you than they had before. They were watching you closely, but trying not to be obvious about it. Sunoo, of course, was already smirking, and Jay seemed just as relaxed as usual, giving you a wink as you settled in.

“Glad you could join us,” Jay said, his tone playful. “We were starting to think Jake might have to eat all the food by himself.”

Jake rolled his eyes, clearly used to their teasing. “Shut up, Jay. I’m not that bad.”

The mood around the table lightened as the conversation shifted to something else, but you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place with these new faces. It was Jake’s birthday, and it felt like you were crashing a party with his closest friends. You knew you were just there for dinner, but it was still a little strange to be sitting with people you hadn’t really spoken to before.

Still, you didn’t mind the warmth in the air. The laughter from the others, the clink of chopsticks against the grill, and Jake’s usual boisterous energy made the whole experience feel easier than expected. It wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would end up being fun, despite everything you had thought going into it.

And for a second, you even forgot the pressure of being there at all. You were just… part of the group.

As the night wore on, the conversation around the table flowed easily, with Jake and his friends joking, laughing, and digging into the sizzling Korean BBQ. You were starting to relax, the initial awkwardness melting away with every bite of meat and every passing moment. The more you watched Jake, the more you couldn’t help but smile. He was clearly enjoying himself, surrounded by his friends, his laughter ringing out across the table.

At some point, when the meal had slowed down a bit and everyone was lounging back in their chairs, you realized it was time.

You reached into your bag, your fingers brushing the small box that held Jake’s gift. You’d been holding onto it since the moment you bought it, unsure of the best moment to give it to him. The thought of handing it over felt a little nerve-wracking, but something in you told you it was the right time.

Jake was leaning back in his chair, talking with Minho about some new video game, and you noticed how relaxed he looked—like the weight of school and everything else was lifted off his shoulders for the moment. You bit your lip, then stood up from your seat, drawing a few curious glances from his friends.

“Jake,” you called quietly, your voice just a bit more hesitant than you intended. He looked up, meeting your gaze, and you saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes as you walked toward him.

“Hey,” you started, feeling your heart rate pick up just a little. “I, uh, I got you something.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this. His face lit up in that usual mischievous grin. “Oh? What is it? I wasn’t expecting a gift, you know.”

You handed him the small box, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. “Well, I know it’s not much, but… I thought you’d like it.”

Jake paused for a moment, looking down at the box in his hands. There was a flicker of curiosity in his expression as he carefully untied the ribbon and opened it. His eyes scanned the bracelet inside, the charm catching the light, and for a moment, he just stared at it, quiet.

“Layla,” he murmured, almost to himself. “This… this is perfect. How did you—?”

You watched him closely, noting the softness that appeared in his eyes. For the first time that night, he seemed genuinely touched. His grin softened as he looked up at you, a little sheepish, as if he hadn’t expected you to notice how much he missed his dog.

“I talked about her, didn’t I?” Jake said, his voice low but with a light chuckle, his fingers gently tracing the letter “L” and the dog charm. “You really listened.”

You shrugged a little, feeling that familiar awkwardness creep back up, but you didn’t mind as much. “I guess… I remember you saying how much you missed her. I thought it’d be a nice way to remind you of home.”

Jake’s smile grew wider, and for a second, it was like his usual confident self was replaced with something softer, something realer. He met your eyes, and for the briefest moment, the playful tension that always hung between you two seemed to fade.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “This means a lot to me. Honestly.”

You nodded, unsure of what else to say. His reaction had caught you a little off guard, but it was good to see him this way—appreciative, genuine.

As the evening continued, the gift was set aside, but you could see Jake glance at it now and then, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. You didn’t need anything more than that—a small, unexpected connection, and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, things between the two of you weren’t as complicated as they seemed.

At least, not always.

As the night went on, the laughter and chatter continued, and soon, the attention shifted toward the cake. It was a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, something you figured Jake probably enjoyed. His friends had all gathered around it, their voices rising in excitement as they prepared to sing. The lights dimmed slightly, and the room filled with the sounds of birthday cheers and the soft hum of the group’s collective enthusiasm.

“Happy birthday to you!” they all sang, their voices blending together in cheerful harmony. Everyone except you, that is.

You stood at the edge of the group, quietly observing. You had no interest in singing along—maybe it was the awkwardness of being around people you didn’t know very well, maybe it was just because you preferred to keep to yourself. Either way, you didn’t sing. Instead, you simply stood there, clapping softly along with the others, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched Jake. His eyes were bright with amusement, a wide grin stretching across his face as he blew out the candles, making a wish you could only guess at.

Jake was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice your quiet distance, but his friends did. Sunoo shot you a look, his usual teasing expression now replaced with something softer, a slight curiosity in his eyes. You didn’t really care though; you had no intention of drawing attention to yourself.

When the song finished, everyone clapped and laughed, and Jake’s friends immediately dug into the cake, passing pieces around. You took a small plate, accepting your slice with a polite nod, but you stayed quiet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be part of the celebration, it was just… you didn’t really know how to navigate it all. Being around Jake’s friends, people you barely knew, in the middle of this cheerful scene—it all felt like too much sometimes.

Jake caught your eye for a split second, noticing how you’d stayed quiet through the whole thing. But instead of teasing you or asking why you weren’t singing, he just gave you a small, genuine smile. It wasn’t the usual loud grin you were used to, but something different—a quiet understanding.

You felt a warmth spread through you, something unspoken between the two of you in that brief moment. But then, the moment passed, and Jake was already moving on to joke with Minho, and you were back to standing off to the side, quietly watching the rest of the party unfold.

You may not have been the loudest or the center of attention, but in that moment, you were fine with that. You didn’t need to be. You had the soft smiles, the quiet nods, and the connection that had been slowly building with Jake. And that was enough for now.

As the night went on, the laughter and chatter continued, and soon, the attention shifted toward the cake. It was a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, something you figured Jake probably enjoyed. His friends had all gathered around it, their voices rising in excitement as they prepared to sing. The lights dimmed slightly, and the room filled with the sounds of birthday cheers and the soft hum of the group’s collective enthusiasm.

“Happy birthday to you!” they all sang, their voices blending together in cheerful harmony. Everyone except you, that is.

You stood at the edge of the group, quietly observing. You had no interest in singing along—maybe it was the awkwardness of being around people you didn’t know very well, maybe it was just because you preferred to keep to yourself. Either way, you didn’t sing. Instead, you simply stood there, clapping softly along with the others, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched Jake. His eyes were bright with amusement, a wide grin stretching across his face as he blew out the candles, making a wish you could only guess at.

Jake was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice your quiet distance, but his friends did. Sunoo shot you a look, his usual teasing expression now replaced with something softer, a slight curiosity in his eyes. You didn’t really care though; you had no intention of drawing attention to yourself.

When the song finished, everyone clapped and laughed, and Jake’s friends immediately dug into the cake, passing pieces around. You took a small plate, accepting your slice with a polite nod, but you stayed quiet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be part of the celebration, it was just… you didn’t really know how to navigate it all. Being around Jake’s friends, people you barely knew, in the middle of this cheerful scene—it all felt like too much sometimes.

Jake caught your eye for a split second, noticing how you’d stayed quiet through the whole thing. But instead of teasing you or asking why you weren’t singing, he just gave you a small, genuine smile. It wasn’t the usual loud grin you were used to, but something different—a quiet understanding.

You felt a warmth spread through you, something unspoken between the two of you in that brief moment. But then, the moment passed, and Jake was already moving on to joke with Minho, and you were back to standing off to the side, quietly watching the rest of the party unfold.

You may not have been the loudest or the center of attention, but in that moment, you were fine with that. You didn’t need to be. You had the soft smiles, the quiet nods, and the connection that had been slowly building with Jake. And that was enough for now.

As the party wound down, the once lively chatter began to dwindle. People filtered out one by one, bidding Jake a cheerful goodbye, some slinging playful goodbyes as they waved. Sunoo and Jay were the last to leave, both of them giving Jake a ruffle of the hair and teasing him about the night. Sunoo shot you a wink as he passed by, but you simply nodded, offering a polite smile.

Once they were all gone, the atmosphere in the room shifted. It wasn’t as loud or chaotic anymore. The music had turned down low, the cake had been mostly eaten, and the remnants of a once-bustling party now sat quietly on the table—empty cups, a few crumpled napkins, and the last of the leftover snacks scattered about.

Jake, who had been the life of the party just moments ago, was now sitting back on the couch, looking at his phone. He was alone now, too—save for you, still sitting at the edge of the room, sipping on your drink, having not really said much in the last hour.

You weren’t sure why you stayed. You could’ve easily made up some excuse and slipped out when the others did. But something made you linger, almost as if you didn’t want to leave just yet. Maybe it was the quietness of the room, or maybe it was the fact that it felt like, for once, the two of you didn’t have to be anything. You didn’t have to talk loudly, you didn’t have to keep up with the jokes or banter. You could just… be.

Jake looked up from his phone, catching your eye as you sat there, lost in your thoughts. For a moment, neither of you said anything. There was just the soft hum of the room, the quiet after all the noise.

“Everyone’s gone, huh?” Jake finally said, his voice breaking the silence. He was leaning back, his expression more relaxed than you’d seen all night. He didn’t look as animated or hyper now—just like a normal guy, unwinding after his celebration.

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking around the room. “Looks like it.”

Jake sat up, shifting to face you more directly. There was something different in the way he looked at you now—maybe it was the quiet of the room, or maybe the night was winding down, but you could tell he wasn’t just looking at you as his study partner or the girl he’d been tutoring with. There was something… more there. Something unspoken, lingering between the two of you.

“You didn’t really join in much, did you?” Jake asked, a bit of a teasing edge to his voice, though it wasn’t as lighthearted as it had been earlier. His gaze softened a little as he spoke. “You’re not really the party type, huh?”

You shrugged, not quite meeting his gaze. “Not really.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn’t the same kind of tension that had existed before. It was quieter—almost understanding. You could tell Jake wasn’t pushing you, but he was curious, trying to figure you out, in his own way.

“I get it,” he said after a pause, leaning back into the couch again, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. “I’m not exactly a fan of huge crowds either. But… I’m glad you came.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You just nodded, offering him a small smile.

It was strange, being here with just him. After all the noise, the laughter, and the teasing, it felt like the two of you were in your own little world now—just the quiet of the room and the soft thrum of unspoken words between you.

“So,” Jake said, breaking the silence again with that familiar lopsided grin, “what now?”

You weren’t sure what to say. There was something almost comfortable in the way you were sitting there, not needing to fill the air with words. So, you just shrugged, still quietly smiling.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “Maybe we just… hang out a little longer?”

Jake’s grin softened into something more genuine as he leaned forward, stretching his arms out. “I like that idea.”

The night stretched on, but you weren’t in any rush to leave. For once, you didn’t mind the silence, and you didn’t feel like you needed to say anything more than what had already been said.

It wasn’t anything grand or dramatic. But, for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you needed to be.

The streets were quiet as the two of you walked side by side, the hum of the city’s nightlife echoing in the distance, but the air around you felt peaceful. The kind of peaceful that happens when the world around you seems to disappear, leaving just the two of you walking in comfortable silence.

You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten. The hour had slipped away quietly between small conversations and moments of quiet. Now, here you were, walking in the cool night air, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the sidewalk.

Jake had been unusually quiet on the walk back. Normally, he’d be talking non-stop about something—something random, something funny, or something that caught his attention. But tonight, there was a strange silence hanging between you two, and you couldn’t quite place why.

When you reached the corner of your street, where you usually split off from each other, Jake stopped walking. You kept going for a couple of steps before realizing he wasn’t beside you anymore. Turning, you looked back at him, confused.

“Jake?” you asked, your voice softer than usual.

He was standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets, staring down at the ground for a moment, clearly thinking. There was an air of uncertainty about him—something you weren’t used to seeing in Jake. Normally, he was so sure of himself, so loud and unbothered by what people thought. But now? He looked almost… nervous?

“Hey,” he began, his voice low and hesitant. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I… I’m not really good at saying this kind of stuff,” he continued, his words stumbling a bit as if he was choosing each one carefully. “But, uh, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And I don’t know how to say it without sounding… well, like an idiot, but…” He paused again, running a hand through his hair, his gaze now focused on the ground.

You stood there, not sure what to say. The tension in the air was thick, and suddenly, the simple walk home felt a little heavier.

“I like you,” Jake finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at you again, his face a little flushed, his expression uncertain. “I don’t know when it happened, or why, but… I think I do.”

For a moment, you were silent, your mind racing. Your heart skipped a beat. You had no idea how to respond. The words caught in your throat, and you stood there, staring at him, not sure whether to speak or just… let the silence settle.

Jake’s gaze shifted as the seconds ticked by, clearly waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The shock was too much, and the weight of his confession was suddenly overwhelming.

He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly unsure of how to handle the silence between you two. “I know this is… unexpected,” he continued, his voice a little more rushed now. “And I know we’ve had our moments, but… I just had to tell you. I couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t there.”

You felt your pulse quicken, your breath caught in your chest. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond, or what this meant for the two of you. The shock of his confession left you speechless. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel something for him—something you hadn’t quite figured out yet—but this? This was unexpected. It threw you off.

You wanted to say something, anything, to fill the silence. But all you could manage was a quiet exhale, standing there frozen as you processed the weight of his words.

Jake didn’t seem to know what to do either. He ran a hand through his hair again, and the tension in his posture told you just how uncomfortable he felt now. “You don’t have to say anything,” he added quickly, almost too quickly. “I just wanted you to know. I—yeah. I think that’s all.”

The silence stretched on, and you could feel the weight of his confession still hanging in the air. You wanted to respond, but nothing seemed right. What were you supposed to say to something like that?

After a moment, Jake shifted uncomfortably again, looking like he regretted saying anything at all. “Uh, I’ll let you go,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost as if he was trying to avoid looking at you. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He turned to leave, but you didn’t move. You stood frozen, your mind still racing, trying to process the fact that Jake—loud, talkative, always so confident Jake—had just told you something that you hadn’t been prepared for.

He stopped for a moment and turned back slightly, glancing at you. “If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, alone in the cool night air, trying to figure out what had just happened.

You didn’t move for a while. You just stood there, caught in the whirlwind of emotions that his confession had stirred up. What now?

The next day, you didn’t show up to school. The quiet, anxious feeling from Jake’s confession still lingered, and you didn’t want to face anyone, especially him. You needed time to process it all, to figure out how to even act around him after what he’d said. But despite not being there, somehow, Jake had passed his test. It didn’t make sense to you, considering how little you had actually done in your tutoring sessions. But then again, you didn’t really understand how Jake operated.

Your phone buzzed with messages from him—texts that you ignored. You weren’t ready to respond yet. The last thing you wanted to deal with was his incessant talking, not after last night. But despite your silence, Jake kept trying to reach you.

And then, there he was, standing at your front door.

You weren’t expecting him to show up at your house, especially not after everything that had happened. But there he was, standing awkwardly on your porch, looking at you with an apologetic expression.

“Y/N, hey,” Jake started, his voice quiet but still carrying that familiar nervous energy. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about what I said yesterday, and I figured I should apologize. I’ve been trying to text you, but I guess you didn’t get them…”

You didn’t know how to react. The last thing you wanted was him here, standing in front of you, talking to you about something that had been running through your mind over and over again. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was stand there and blink, lost for words.

“Jake,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. It felt odd saying his name out loud, like your thoughts had finally caught up with the reality of the situation.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jake continued, his words rushing out like they always did. “I mean, I didn’t want to mess things up, and I thought maybe—”

“Jake!” you interrupted, your voice a little sharper now, unable to handle the constant stream of words he was throwing at you.

He froze for a moment, blinking at you in surprise, clearly not expecting you to snap at him like that. “Sorry,” he said, giving you a sheepish smile, but still not stopping. “I just… I just thought maybe we could talk it out, you know? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or—”

Before he could finish, you stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him towards you. You didn’t even think about it, you just did it. And then, before he could say another word, you kissed him.

It was a quick kiss, but it felt like everything—like all the thoughts you had been too scared to say and all the confusion you had been carrying suddenly just dissolved. You pulled away just as quickly, your breath uneven, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake was silent for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re so noisy,” you said, your voice softer now, but with a certain sharpness behind it. It was the first time you’d said anything since he’d shown up, and it felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

He blinked at you, clearly processing what had just happened. And for the first time in the entire conversation, Jake was silent. There was no rambling, no endless chatter. Just the quiet between the two of you, filling the space in a way that felt… right.

“I—” he started, but then, he stopped, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Guess I deserved that.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just stood there, feeling a little calmer now, a little more grounded. Jake had finally quieted down, and somehow, you felt like things might just be okay.

You stood there for a moment, your pulse still racing from the kiss, unsure of what to do next. Jake, however, didn’t seem to notice your hesitation. His eyes sparkled with that usual energy of his, though there was something different in them now—something softer.

“So… does this mean you, like, like me back or something?” he asked, his voice a little too hopeful, but still managing to sound just a little bit teasing.

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could get a word out, he continued, rambling as always. “I mean, I get it if you don’t know yet, and we can take things slow, but I just—”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

Without thinking, you grabbed his face, pulling him toward you again, and kissed him. This time, it was longer, deeper, more deliberate. You didn’t let him talk, just focused on the feeling of his lips against yours, trying to silence the chaos in your own mind that had been building for days. When you pulled away, both of you breathless, you finally managed to speak.

“Shut up, Jake,” you said, your voice low but firm, as you pulled back slightly and gave him a pointed look.

Jake blinked, clearly stunned for a second, but then that familiar grin spread across his face again. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know whether to be mad or flattered right now.”

You just gave him a small smirk in response. “Maybe you should be both.”

The teasing glint in his eyes was back. “Guess I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then?”

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “Come inside, Jake. We need to talk about what’s going on here… after you stop talking for five minutes.”

Jake grinned wider. “That’s a big ask, but I’ll try my best.”

You raised an eyebrow, leading him inside. “Good luck with that.”

Once inside, you motioned for Jake to sit down on the couch. He shuffled in, still grinning like an idiot, looking at you with that same mischievous gleam in his eyes. You sat down on the opposite side, trying to create some space, but it wasn’t doing much to cool the heat you could still feel between you two.

Jake plopped down, still practically bouncing on the couch. “So, does this mean I get to talk now, or…?” he trailed off, his gaze mischievous as ever.

You sighed and rubbed your temples, trying to stave off the inevitable flood of words that was about to come. “You can talk, Jake, but just—” You paused, unsure of how to phrase it. “Just listen for a second. Let’s figure this out, okay?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll try to be quiet,” he said, though his grin suggested he wasn’t sure he could actually pull it off.

You took a deep breath, trying to sort through your thoughts. “I don’t know what this is yet. I don’t know what it means, and I’m still figuring things out… but you’re really distracting, you know that?”

Jake blinked, looking a little surprised at your admission. “Distracting? How?”

You shot him a half-smile. “You talk non-stop. You’re loud. You’re… everywhere. And honestly, I didn’t know how to handle it, especially after last night.” You paused. “But, I also don’t mind it… when you’re not talking about something completely random.”

Jake, for the first time in forever, sat still. His usual energy seemed to fade just a little, and he looked at you carefully, like he was actually trying to understand what you were saying. “You don’t mind me being loud?”

You shook your head. “No. Well, sometimes. But not always.” You sighed again, rubbing your forehead. “It’s just… you have this way about you. I don’t know. I didn’t expect any of this.”

Jake leaned forward, a bit more serious now, his eyes softening. “You’re kind of making me blush here,” he said, a small laugh escaping his lips. But there was no teasing in his voice this time, just a genuine warmth that made your chest tighten slightly.

You tilted your head, studying him. “I’m just trying to be honest. It’s hard to keep up with you sometimes, Jake. But I… I guess I’ve been keeping up with you more than I thought. And now, I don’t know what to do with it.”

He leaned back on the couch, his posture softening, as if he was absorbing your words. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m good at keeping up with you, then.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling, but now it wasn’t just his usual grin—it was a soft, genuine smile, like he was letting you see the real him. “I think so.”

The air between you two wasn’t as tense anymore, and that uncomfortable feeling you’d had since his confession seemed to slowly fade away. There was something calming about the way Jake was looking at you now, no longer rambling on about random things, but just being present with you.

“Alright,” you said, the corner of your mouth twitching upward. “But I still think you talk way too much.”

Jake chuckled, his grin returning. “You don’t mind,” he said, teasing, but with that same sincerity behind it. “And besides, you’ll get used to it.”

You stared at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I guess I will.”

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t neatly tied up in a bow. But it was something—something between the two of you that felt like it could be the start of whatever came next.

The next day, you didn’t show up to school. The quiet, anxious feeling from Jake’s confession still lingered, and you didn’t want to face anyone, especially him. You needed time to process it all, to figure out how to even act around him after what he’d said. But despite not being there, somehow, Jake had passed his test. It didn’t make sense to you, considering how little you had actually done in your tutoring sessions. But then again, you didn’t really understand how Jake operated.

Your phone buzzed with messages from him—texts that you ignored. You weren’t ready to respond yet. The last thing you wanted to deal with was his incessant talking, not after last night. But despite your silence, Jake kept trying to reach you.

And then, there he was, standing at your front door.

You weren’t expecting him to show up at your house, especially not after everything that had happened. But there he was, standing awkwardly on your porch, looking at you with an apologetic expression.

“Y/N, hey,” Jake started, his voice quiet but still carrying that familiar nervous energy. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about what I said yesterday, and I figured I should apologize. I’ve been trying to text you, but I guess you didn’t get them…”

You didn’t know how to react. The last thing you wanted was him here, standing in front of you, talking to you about something that had been running through your mind over and over again. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was stand there and blink, lost for words.

“Jake,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. It felt odd saying his name out loud, like your thoughts had finally caught up with the reality of the situation.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jake continued, his words rushing out like they always did. “I mean, I didn’t want to mess things up, and I thought maybe—”

“Jake!” you interrupted, your voice a little sharper now, unable to handle the constant stream of words he was throwing at you.

He froze for a moment, blinking at you in surprise, clearly not expecting you to snap at him like that. “Sorry,” he said, giving you a sheepish smile, but still not stopping. “I just… I just thought maybe we could talk it out, you know? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or—”

Before he could finish, you stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him towards you. You didn’t even think about it, you just did it. And then, before he could say another word, you kissed him.

It was a quick kiss, but it felt like everything—like all the thoughts you had been too scared to say and all the confusion you had been carrying suddenly just dissolved. You pulled away just as quickly, your breath uneven, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake was silent for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re so noisy,” you said, your voice softer now, but with a certain sharpness behind it. It was the first time you’d said anything since he’d shown up, and it felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

He blinked at you, clearly processing what had just happened. And for the first time in the entire conversation, Jake was silent. There was no rambling, no endless chatter. Just the quiet between the two of you, filling the space in a way that felt… right.

“I—” he started, but then, he stopped, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Guess I deserved that.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just stood there, feeling a little calmer now, a little more grounded. Jake had finally quieted down, and somehow, you felt like things might just be okay.

You sat there, quiet, the stillness between you two finally feeling like something that made sense. Jake shifted on the couch, his usual energy still present, but there was something different about it now. A softness.

“Oh, and,” he said suddenly, almost shy, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “I forgot to tell you yesterday… you looked really pretty.”

You blinked, a little surprised. You hadn’t expected him to say that. You didn’t even know how to respond. You weren’t used to compliments, and you weren’t about to start talking a lot now. Instead, you just looked at him, mildly flustered.

He seemed to notice your silence and rushed to explain, his words tumbling out. “I mean, you look good every day, obviously, but yesterday, I don’t know—there was something about you. Maybe it was just the way you were dressed? You know, the pink shirt and everything? It really suited you, and I just thought you looked… I don’t know, different. But in a good way.” He shrugged, his grin widening as he looked at you. “You know what I mean?”

You were quiet for a moment, processing. Finally, you managed to smile slightly, not really knowing how to express what you were thinking. “Not every day, though,” you said quietly, the words barely above a whisper.

Jake, of course, didn’t seem to notice the hint of teasing in your voice. He was still going on about what he’d said, completely oblivious to your quieter response. “Yeah, but like, I mean—wait, did I say not every day? I didn’t mean it like that! You always look good, but yesterday—well, you know what I mean, right?” He paused, but when you didn’t immediately reply, he launched right back into it. “I guess it was just that moment, like, when I saw you yesterday… you had this vibe, this energy. I don’t know if I can explain it, but it just felt like you were different than the usual, like, I don’t know, more confident or something, and—”

You stopped him with a small shake of your head, still not saying much. You just couldn’t keep up with his constant talking, but at this point, you were used to it. It was just Jake being Jake.

You were content to sit quietly, letting him talk, even if you were barely following along. It was weirdly comforting, though. You didn’t need to speak, not with him around. He always had something to say, and it felt natural, like a part of your routine.

“So, anyway,” Jake continued, looking at you eagerly as though he was expecting some sort of reaction. “I was just thinking about it all, and then, I realized, maybe we could do the tutoring at your place instead of school? You know, less distractions, and, well, I know school can be kind of loud, but your place would be more chill, don’t you think?”

You barely registered his question, too caught up in the quiet hum of your own thoughts. You didn’t feel like speaking much today, not after everything. You were still figuring things out. But you nodded slightly, agreeing.

You gave him a brief glance, finally deciding to offer something to the conversation. “Maybe. But you’ll still talk the whole time.”

Jake laughed, his voice still full of that energy you were so used to by now. “I can’t help it! I mean, I’ve got so much to say, you know? I just like… talking. I like hearing myself talk,” he added with a grin, making you roll your eyes slightly.

You didn’t speak for a while after that. Instead, you just stared at him quietly, watching him go on and on. Honestly, you didn’t mind. It was like this every time you were together. You didn’t have to fill the space with words because Jake was always happy to do it for you.

“So, uh, same time tomorrow for tutoring?” Jake asked after a while, his eyes expectant as he looked at you.

You blinked, taking a moment to consider it. You had no intention of speaking much, as usual. But you gave a small nod. “Sure,” you whispered, feeling a tiny bit of tension leave your shoulders.

Jake smiled brightly, already moving to start talking again, but you stopped him with a look. He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly confused.

“You really don’t stop, do you?” you muttered softly, shaking your head just a little.

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, you cut him off. “Fine, we’ll do tutoring at my place. But only if you talk less,” you said, your voice quiet, but with a small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

Jake blinked in surprise. “Wait, really? You’re agreeing? I thought you’d—”

“Yeah, well, you’re not going to shut up if I don’t,” you said with a shrug.

Jake let out a loud laugh, but he nodded. “Alright, alright. I’ll try my best. But no promises.”

You just gave him a small, quiet smile, the kind that said you didn’t really mind at all. You were used to him talking. You didn’t have to say much, and that was enough for you.

Jake, of course, wasn’t done yet. He continued talking, but you didn’t mind. You were happy with the silence of just being around him, listening to him speak while you kept your thoughts to yourself. It was like this every time. And maybe, just maybe, you were okay with it.

The next tutoring session came, and you couldn’t help but notice how much it had become part of your routine—Jake talking non-stop, and you sitting there, quietly listening, occasionally breaking into a smile or soft laugh when he said something that was just too ridiculous.

You had been staring at him again, your eyes tracing the way his hands moved as he tried to explain something he barely understood, and how his hair always fell into his face when he leaned forward in his chair. He wasn’t the best at math—if you were being honest, he barely understood half of it—but his enthusiasm made it… bearable.

“And then,” Jake was saying, gesturing wildly with his pen, “if you… wait, no, that’s not right. I meant—uh, okay, so this is just like that time when my brother messed up the barbecue, right?” He was halfway through explaining something entirely unrelated to the subject at hand when he paused and caught your gaze.

You were staring at him again, your eyes narrowing slightly as you tried to focus, but you couldn’t help it. Something about him was just so… distracting.

“What?” Jake asked, looking a little sheepish. “You think I’m being ridiculous again?”

You just giggled softly, shaking your head. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Jake grinned, leaning back in his chair, not at all fazed by the fact that he was constantly derailing your tutoring sessions with random anecdotes. “Yeah, I know. But you still like it, don’t you?”

Your eyes flicked away for a moment, a faint blush creeping up your neck as you tried to hide your smile. “You’re lucky I’m a good tutor,” you muttered under your breath, though the teasing tone didn’t quite cover up the warmth you felt.

“Ha! I knew it!” Jake pointed at you, practically jumping out of his chair. “You’re laughing! I’m winning!” He flopped back into his seat, satisfied with himself.

You couldn’t help but giggle again, trying to cover your mouth but failing miserably. His infectious energy was impossible to ignore, and you didn’t even want to.

The conversation veered off track again, and you found yourself caught up in his rambling, but this time, you didn’t mind. You didn’t feel the need to speak much. You just listened, occasionally laughing or shaking your head, all the while staring at him.

For once, it wasn’t frustrating. It wasn’t just noise. It was… nice. A quiet kind of chaos that you were starting to get used to.

The session ended with you both finally making a little progress on the homework, even if most of it had been distracted by Jake’s usual stream of consciousness. As you packed up your things, you realized that the time had passed quicker than you’d expected, and you didn’t want it to stop. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind the talking as much as you thought.

“Same time tomorrow?” Jake asked, still talking a mile a minute, but this time, you didn’t feel the need to shut him up.

You looked at him, giving a small smile, and just nodded.

“Fine,” you said quietly. “But try to get some work done, kay?”

Jake grinned widely. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh softly again, watching him grin and talk a little too much as you walked out of the room together.

I love jake sm bro | req open - masterlist | read part two here

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Fifteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (I'll put the gentle stuff first so if you want to skip the smut warnings you can but also please read them if you're worried! Viewer discretion is always advised! 💕) Flirting, Suggestive Language, Sexual Tension runs DEEP, Alcohol/Drinking, sending risque photos / sexting essentially, smoking, & Jake our sweet baby boy being nervous as fuck.

*smut time* including: (oral f/m receiving, mild hand kinks insinuated, fingers in places, fairly rough SEX, literally all our dreams are being insinuated in here folks.)

Word Count: 5k !!

Summary: After using the utmost will power Jake has the night before, Charlotte truly tests his ability to resist his urges the next day while he's working. And well, you can imagine how far he makes it.

Author's Note: THE CANDLE IS AFLAME. LETS GOOOOO!!! I can't wait for you guys to read this one and I especially can't wait to hear your feelings about it! You've been patient with me and I made sure that it was well worth the wait. Enjoy the ride babes! 😘💕

Tear You Apart - She wants Revenge "I want to hold you close, soft breath, beating heart, As I whisper in your ear. "I want to fucking tear you apart."

Nothing in the last eighteen hours has felt real. We laid there talking about whatever came to mind for a while, but she stayed pressed against me the whole time. Alternating between holding my hand or drawing little shapes on my chest as she told me stories. 

Getting to wake up with her curled up in my arms, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t just pretend to sleep for a few minutes just to enjoy the way she played with my hair and kissed my face until I finally “woke up.” Staying in bed until Josh left the apartment so we didn’t sell ourselves out. Just quietly talking and sharing lazy kisses for a while, I felt like I was still dreaming. 

Coming back into the room, she was wrapped up in one of my shirts, just sitting on my bed and scrolling on her phone. 

“I didn’t know friends with benefits meant you stealing my clothes,” I tease. 

Her smile is contagious, “what do you think the benefits part means?” 

“Oh, is that right?” I ask in a taunting tone as I start getting dressed. Watching her pout as I button my pants, “What’s that for?” 

She climbs off the bed quickly, sliding her hands around my waist, “Can you just not look at me when I say this?” The question laced with her giggles. 

“Oh, don’t be shy now,” I laugh. 

“You’re just sooo..” she quietly but quickly spits out. 

My eyebrow raises as she avoids finishing the sentence. Reaching back to grab a shirt from my closet, she’s still clung to me. 

She finally squeaks out, “sexy.” Immediately tucking her face into me, I wrap my arms around her as I laugh. She thinks I’m—? 

“If I didn’t have to be in the bar, trust me— I wouldn’t ruin your fun.” 

She leans back, moving her hands to the same place on my stomach, slowly letting them creep up to my chest, “Starting my day off with a little torture?”

 You have no idea. 

“I haven’t forgotten about that promise,” I mumble to her. Watching her eyes light up, I tell her, “I’ll make it up to you, but I do need to work for a little bit.” 

“Better be good if you’re making me wait even longer.” She taunts. 

“Oh, I think you’ll agree it was worth the wait,” I tell her before whispering, “But you have to let go of me if you ever want to find out.” Leaning forward to press my forehead against hers, trying to not laugh at the pout on her face. 

“I’m not done yet,” she groans, letting herself fall into me and chuckling to myself as she dramatically goes limp in my arms. We stood there like that for a few minutes; she kept leaving little kisses all over my chest, which further convinced me that I deserved an award for self-control. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After what felt like the longest goodbye, I have never wanted to not be in my bar more than I do today. Time feels like it’s crawling by as I stand here talking to customers at the bar. I’m nodding along to whatever they tell me as Josh mingles amongst the rest of the room. I see my phone light up out of the corner of my eye. 

Charlotte: Hi 

Me: hello there

Well, at least she can keep me company now. I pour a fresh beer and slide it to the man sitting across from me. I carefully tap on my phone, ..she already replied. 

Charlotte: I have a problem..

Me: oh? What’s that? 

Charlotte: Can’t stop thinking about how lol good you looked this morning 🤭

I can feel the heat rush to my face; what is she trying to do right now? I stare straight up at the ceiling for a second before replying. 

Me: and how can I help you with that? 

Charlotte: [sends photo in invisible ink]

Charlotte: I don’t know Jacob, how can you? 

I lock my phone faster than the speed of light. I close my eyes, biting the inside of my mouth. I can’t look at that out here. I make eye contact with Josh from across the room, gesturing to the bathroom as he nods quickly. 

I may as well have run into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I open her texts, slowly swiping away the invisible ink. There sits a photo of her legs crossed, stretched out in front of her, with dark red lace hugging her hips. Fuck me. Willing away the thoughts racing in my mind, I finally reply. 

Me: holy shit- I wish I was there. 

After a moment of silence and a handful of deep breaths, I make my way back out to the bar. How am I supposed to do this and not be obvious about it? 

Charlotte: Oh, you do? 

Me: You have no idea. 

I’d do anything to be there, Jesus Christ. I ring up a handful of tabs, sliding the receipts and their cards back to them as they head out and new customers take their places at the bar. 

I feel my phone vibrate as I’m taking someone’s order, turning to make it and setting my phone in front of me. 

Charlotte: What would you do if you were here? 

I about drop the bottle I’m holding when I read it. God, I don’t even know what I’d do. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything with a girl I’d probably panic. 

Me: oh honey I wish I could tell you 

Sliding their drink to them and grabbing a few empty glasses, anything to fight the demons away at this point. I pull my hair up into a low bun, trying to relieve myself of some of the heat coming off of me. 

“Warm?” Josh asks as he’s dropping off a handful of cans and glasses. 

Nodding quickly, “Yeah, I don’t know why.” I laugh for a second, definitely not because she’s tormenting me through text or anything. 

“You can go outside for a minute if you want; I got it.” 

“I may just take you up on that.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Throwing my phone in my pocket, I grab a cigarette from my office before hustling out back. The crisp, almost winter air hit me, instantly sending a chill through me. I lit the cigarette, only taking one drag from it before pulling my phone out. 

Charlotte: tell me Jacob 

My hands shake as I go to reply, whether it’s nerves or the cold, who knows? I fumble around, trying to convince myself to just say it to her. 

Me: god I just want to taste you

Was that dumb? I don’t know what else to say. I wish I could just BE THERE. Taking another slow drag, I watch the little typing bubble pop up. 

Charlotte: [sends photo] 

“Fucking hell,” I breathe out. 

My head drops back the moment it shows up. Her torso, the dark red lace, so gently cupped her. The glimmer of her nipple piercings caught the light as they’ peaked against the lace on them. She’s beautiful. The way I can see how her body curves and how soft her skin is. 

Charlotte: does that mean you’re a ‘ladies first’ kind of man?

Me: first and second, if that’s okay with you 

Charlotte: omg jacob? 

Charlotte: that’s so hot 

My stomach turns with every text; I’m so nervous. She just can’t know about it. The thought of going down on her plagues my mind. The sounds she’d make, the way she’d taste. 

Me: i’m sorry you look so fucking good

Me: how am I supposed to just stand behind the bar now? 

Taking the last few drags and putting it out, I head back inside. I sipped on the drink I have in my office, and then grab a mint before plopping down in my chair for a minute. 

Charlotte: that’s how I felt this morning 

Charlotte: you’ve been on my mind all day baby

‘Baby’ plays in my head from the other day. I can feel the blood rushing away from my brain with every flirty text she sends. 

Me: what have you been thinking about? 

I almost instantly regret asking because I know that the answer is going to be painful. Opening my email and scrolling through it for a moment before her name popped up in my notifications. 

Charlotte: How I wish you didn’t need to work today 

Charlotte: Just stayed in your bed all day with your hands all over me 

Me: yeah? You want that?

You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work. The sigh that falls out of me as I fight off every shiver that goes through my body because of her. Finally, getting up and going back out to the bar, letting Josh go hide for a few minutes. 

I take a chance to go wander around the tables and booths, talking to some of the regulars who were hidden amongst the crowd. I feel my phone vibrate against my thigh, but I try to ignore it while I get a few drink orders. I grab a few empty cans on my way back to the bar, tossing them into their bin before sliding my phone back out under the bar. 

Charlotte: mhmm. Your hands or your mouth, whichever you’d prefer. 

Charlotte: Just want you to touch me.

Me: god you’re killing me 

Pouring the drinks, but Josh sneaks over to grab them before I can. 

“How was your break?” I ask quietly. 

“Lovely,” He nods slightly, “How’s your night going?” His eyes dart to my phone and back at me. The warmth spreads through me again, and I just clear my throat quietly. 

He grabs my arm before quietly spitting out, “Oh, my sweet little brother, I’m not blind. You’ve been obsessively checking it; what is she saying to you?” 

I can’t help but laugh, “I don’t think you want to hear it.” Raising my eyebrows as we look at each other, his grin grows across his face. 

“Oh! Well, in that case, there’s a can of WD-40 in the back if you need to loosen up those joints before you see her,” he winks as he tells me, backing away with the drinks, and I flip him off carefully before I point to the table they’re supposed to be going to. 

Charlotte: I just know you’d take such good care of me 

Me: whatever you wanted 

Charlotte: [sends photo]

A small groan escapes as I look at her. In my shirt, she’s peeking over her shoulder into the mirror. She’s definitely holding it up slightly because she’s sat on the counter, her ass perfectly outlined by that god-forsaken lace again. My cock twitches the longer I stare at her. 

Me: for me? 

My mouth goes dry at the thought of seeing her like that in person; the realization that it could happen was hitting me. I look at the time, 11:58 pm, before locking my phone and tossing it back under the bar. 

“You can go if you want,” I tell Josh, leaning into him. 

He scans the room, “Are you positive?” A fair amount of the booths and tables have cleared out at this point and there are just a few stragglers aside from the actual bar. 

“Very. I can handle the rest of the night. Get out of here while it’s still early..ish,” I tell him, grabbing his shoulder with a light squeeze. 

“I will not argue that,” he mutters, “if I’m asleep, love you and goodnight.” He pats my arm a few times as he walks past me. 

Charlotte: just you baby 🤭 

Me: wish i could kiss you right now 

Charlotte: I wish you could do more than that 

Me: don’t think I’d be able to control myself 

Not a lie. I don’t think I’ve ever felt tension like this in my life. The fact I’m stuck here feels like low-grade torture. I grab a towel and some spray, making my rounds throughout the tables. I try to get some of the cleaning done, hoping it’ll help distract me a little. 

My phone vibrates against my leg, and my heart drops, knowing it’s her. 

Charlotte: [sends photo]

“Fuck me,” I quietly mutter to myself. She’s sat on her floor, her hands pulling some of my shirt in between her legs, but not enough to fully hide her lingerie. Her hair was messy and draped over her shoulders. A glorious shot of her tits, so gently pressed into each other. The desperate need to kiss my way up her legs grows stronger as I stare at them. 

Me: Charlotte. 

I wipe the table in front of me slowly so I can give myself a second to chill out before having to turn around. 

Charlotte: yes, Jacob? 

My self-control is on the floor at this point. 

Me: come here

Charlotte: really? 

Me: yes please come here. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The moment she walked in, it made the last thirty minutes feel like they hadn’t even happened. She finds her usual seat at the bar, letting a smile sneak onto her face when she gets comfortable. 

Why am I nervous now? 

Bringing over her drink, it’s hard not to notice what she’s wearing. She knows what she’s doing. As I slide it across the bar, I realize that she left the bulk of the shirt unbuttoned and just tucked into her pants carefully. 

“Hi,” she squeaks out, timidly grabbing the glass in front of her. Watching how the glass sits on her lip when she drinks, the movement of her throat when she swallows. I hadn’t thought of what I was doing when I told her to come here. This is worse.

“Hi,” I manage to get out, “you look .. nice.” My eyes trailed down her body, trying not to make it too obvious to anybody else, but the moment I noticed that I could see the same bra she had on in the pictures she sent me, my heart stopped. She must have caught me because she leaned forward in her seat a little, making the shirt shift so I had an even clearer shot of it. 

I slowly blink as my head shakes, taking a subtle deep breath because I still have forty-five minutes before I can kick everybody out. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks coyly. 

“I think you know.” Backing away to make sure everybody else at the bar is good, I feel like I have to manually move my eyes away from her. Why didn’t I tell her to get here later? I have to act normal and I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that right now. 

Thankfully, for me, around 1:30 am is when most people start to head out, so I spend a few minutes grabbing the tabs for people, taking care of those while I feel her eyes on me the entire time. The customers next to her also want to head out, so I bring over their receipt, leaning into the bar a bit purposefully, letting my shirt fall open a little more where I know she can see it. I glance over at her with my eyebrow cocked as I see her eyes shoot up to meet mine. 

“I saw that,” I mumble to her. 

The corners of her lips curling up slightly, she whispers back, “Good.” 

As time crept by, I wonder to myself why I thought having her here would be the better option. We’ve been having staring contests the entire time, not even saying anything to each other, just from across the bar. 

There’s only a few stragglers lingering, so I do one more lap around the tables, making sure to grab anything that was left. But, the moment she’s in my peripheral vision again, my self-control lowers more. 

Strolling up behind her, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around her, I rest my hand on the base of her neck. 

“You doing okay?” I ask, my hand squeezing the back of her neck gently. 

Her head turned a little to try and look at me, “I could be better.” The smile on her face was making me sweat. 

“Give me like ten minutes,” I lean in close to her ear, “I’ll make sure of it.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

 Following the last customers to the door, I flip off the signs as they make their way out. My heart is pounding as I turn the locks over on the doors. The sudden realization that we’re fully alone washes over me, but the need to feel her touch overrides it. 

I turn around to look at her, and she’s already walking over to me. I quickly meet her halfway, my hands pulling her face to me, the desperate need to feel her lips on mine finally relieved as the kiss goes on. Her hands pull on my shirt like she can’t get close enough. Leaning down, I grab the backs of her knees, lifting her up, and her legs wrap around me, never detaching from the kiss. Her hands slide up into my hair as she smiles against my lips. 

Walking her back over, I set her on the bar top, my hands on either side of her. Kissing the side of her neck, I can see her breathing getting heavier. Fiddling with the buttons on my shirt, exposing her. The dark red lace against her pale complexion, holy shit, only looking at her for a moment before trailing kisses down her sternum. My hands find their place around her waist, hovering my mouth over her, looking up at her; she’s intently watching me, letting out a tiny whimper. 

“Please, Jacob,” she breathes out. 

My mouth connects with her instantly; her moan rings through my ears. I slide my hand up, gently pulling the lace away from her, and goosebumps slowly creep in. Letting my thumb graze over her peaked nipple, I press a kiss to her other breast. 

Her thighs tense up with every time I swirl my tongue around her. Moving my hands and spreading her thighs so I can stand between them, pulling her to the edge of the bar. She unbuttons her pants, pushing them down, and lifting herself enough to slide them to her thighs for me. 

“Well, aren’t you an eager little thing?” I mumble, pulling them off her. “Lay back for me, honey?” She practically fell to her elbows, her eyes locked on me. 

Pressing wet kisses down her stomach but stopped as soon as I hit the dainty lace. The nerves of touching her for the first time hit; don’t fuck this up.  I run my hands down her thighs, pushing them further apart before teasingly leaving little kisses closer and closer to where she really wants me to be. 

“Is this okay?” Looking up at her from between her legs. She lets out a breathy ‘yes’; her eyes look desperate for some sort of touch. I plant a kiss over her covered clit, getting the most delicious moan out of her. I can’t resist from pulling the fabric to the side. She’s soaked already. 

One slow lick up her center, and she already dropped her head back. Smiling as I swirl my tongue around her clit, lightly sucking, doing anything to keep the noises coming out of her. She’s so quiet typically, I would have never expected her to be so vocal, but I’m not complaining. 

“Oh my god, Jake,” she moans. The sound of my name falling from her lips has me groaning into her. She tastes so sweet; I can’t get enough of her. You would think I was starving with the way my mouth couldn’t stop. Glancing up at her as my tongue laps around her clit, her eyes meeting mine as she lets out another delicious moan. I tease her with my middle finger, just barely touching her, and she jumps at the feeling. 

“Please,” she whines, still looking down at me. 

“Oh, you want this?” I ask, sliding my middle finger into her and slowly pumping my hand into her, watching her mouth fall open. The wetter she gets, the faster I go. Trying to find just the right spot, needing to make her feel good. Pressing up so slightly as I pull back. The way her mouth opens more; that’s it, sweet girl. 

“Oh- oh my god,” she moans out, “more, please. Please, baby.”  The name makes my heart flutter and my dick twitch; my ring finger joins in, watching her eyes roll back and pressing up into that special place that makes her want to scream. I pump my fingers into her, listening to her pretty moans as she keeps grabbing the edges of the bar like they’re her lifeline. 

“Oh, is that good?” 

 A slew of ‘oh my gods’ and ‘holy shit’ come from her as I start to play with her clit with my other hand. Rubbing little circles to drive her mad, watching her writhe with pleasure, her back arching off the bar. Fuck me. 

“Come for me, honey.” 

I can feel her about to break, dipping my head down and swirling around her quickly with my tongue. Her hands tangled themselves in my hair, holding me there. Groaning into her at the feeling and lifting her leg so I can wrap my arm around her, the back of her knee lands over my shoulder as I’m pulling her into me. 

“Oh- baby, don’t stop, please, please- oh, oh my GOD,” her volume increases as her orgasm hits her, and she’s pulling my hair as she’s practically riding my face. My name has never sounded better than the way she’s yelling it. 

She sits up after a minute, pulling my face to hers and planting a kiss on me. 

“Where did you- how- um, so .. yeah, how did you?” She stumbles over her words, and without stopping, she’s unbuttoning my shirt. I laugh as she’s trying to form a coherent thought. 

“I told you it would be worth it,” I whisper into her ear, placing a kiss just below it. “But, I‘m not done with you yet,” comes out of me, in almost a growl.  Who am I? 

Helping her off the bar, she grabs my arms, turning us around and pushing me back into it. Her hands work my belt and button in my jeans as fast as they can as she’s trailing kisses down my neck. Her hand dipping into my boxers; I let out a groan when she wraps her hand around me. 

“I need you,” slips out of me as she strokes a few times. She presses her lips to mine, mumbling in between kisses, “Please, fuck me, Jacob.” I can’t stop the moan that comes out after that. 

“I don’t have a-,“ I start to whisper when she cuts me off quickly. 

“That's okay,” she tells me, kissing underneath my jaw. I grab her arms, already missing the feeling of her hand on me. Walking her backwards, our heated kisses made it hard to walk straight. I slide the shirt off of her and toss it onto a barstool.  Reaching a table, I spin her around so her back is against my chest, my hands snaking around her small frame. I reach up, softly rubbing small circles over her nipples until her head falls back onto me. 

My right hand crept up, sliding it up her throat until I was holding her jaw. Her mouth opens slightly at the feeling; taking the risk, I lightly rest my finger on her lip. Unprepared for her to immediately tilt her head back up, wrapping her lips around it.

“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath. “Can you bend over for me, honey?” Her tongue swirls around it before  She leans forward onto the table, pushing her ass into me. 

 She knows what she’s doing. My hands slide over her. I squat down for just a second, spreading her open and licking a wide stripe up her. I saw the goosebumps on her skin as I kiss her before standing up. 

I slide my boxers down far enough for my cock to be free, the relief from being out alone. I pull the lace to the side again, lining myself up with her. Slowly pushing into her, she lets out a loud moan. God, she feels good.  I let myself bottom out in her, giving her a second before I move. And myself, to be honest. 

“Baaaby,” she lets out. I hold her hips as I start to pull back, slowly thrusting into her. My own moans start falling out as our pace picks up. Looking down as I push into her, my mouth hangs open; the feeling is surreal. 

“Feel good?” 

She lets out a small ‘yes’ while she arches her back more. The sounds of my hips slapping against her, the way I can feel how wet she is, the feeling as she’s pushing back against my thrusts to feel as full as she can. 

“Holy shit, Charlotte.” 

She looks back at me through her eyelashes and, with the sweetest voice, tells me, “harder.”

 My heart pounds at her words. Without hesitation, I step my left foot up onto the booth, gripping her waist, and start snapping my hips as hard as I can into her. I bite the inside of my lip as her moans get louder while I keep hitting the right spot over and over. Fuck, she feels so good.  Watching how she stretches her arms in front of her, her knuckles white with how hard she’s holding her own hand.  

I bend down, hovering my lips over her ear when I whisper, “I know you have one more for me, honey.” Her moan was enough of a response for me. My necklace barely grazed the skin between her shoulder blades, and I watched the goosebumps flood her skin. I press a kiss against that same spot before standing back up. I grab her arms, pulling her up so her back is pressed against me. My hand dipped in between her legs, finding her clit that was just screaming for my attention. My fingers quickly start working at it, as her chest is heaving at this point, and I can feel her orgasm about to break. Both of us breathe heavily as she tilts her head back, and I sneak a kiss on her neck, letting out a small ‘mmm’ against her skin. 

“Jacob, baby,” she moans. 

“Tell me,” I groaned back to her. 

“I’m gonna-“ is all she gets out before her jaw goes slack and her eyes are fixed shut.

“Let it out,” I whisper as I pound into her.  She's moaning loudly in my ear, pulling my hand away when she starts to get too sensitive. I slow my hips down so she can recover, watching the soft smile settle on her lips. She pulls my arms around her, leaning her head back against me until she shifts slightly, and we both remember that I’m still buried inside her. 

“Hun, I’m not gonna last much longer,” I tell her quietly before I press a kiss to her temple. She taps my hip a few times so I’d back up. She drops down and just, with no thought, slides my cock into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around it as she bobs her head up and down the length of it. Using her hands on whatever she can’t comfortably do with her mouth. And god, is she good at it. 

The thought of her doing this after she just came on me inches me closer. I glance down to see her looking back up at me, and the visual alone has me two seconds away from finishing. 

“I’m so close, don’t stop,” it’s my turn to whimper. She pushes it further into her mouth, she swallows around me and I’m done for. One of my hands found its place on the back of her head, fighting the urge to thrust into her. 

“Fuck, Charlotte—“ Practically yelling her name as I release into her throat, her hands working me through it. Swallowing as she stands up, she presses a gentle kiss on my lips. I can’t believe that just happened. 

“Well, um,” I mumble, breathing heavily and wrapping my arms around her, “that was..” 

“So fucking good.” She giggles, tucking her face into me, mumbling, “You’re so hot.”

My face feels warm when she says it; she thought it was that good?  We stand there for a few minutes, just laughing, as she’s curled up in my arms. 

“Wanna just sleep here?”

“Only if you’ll carry me up the stairs,” she says with a little smirk, her hands pressed against my chest, “I don’t think my legs could do it right now.” 

“You’re gonna give me a complex,” I laugh, kissing her forehead, “get dressed real quick.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After pretending to be Prince Charming and carrying her up the two flights of stairs, we both immediately crawl into bed. She makes herself comfortable, tugging my arm over her so she can back herself into me and wiggling her ass against my dick. 

“Hey now,” I mumble, “don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.” 

Her soft laughs fill the room, “Who said I wouldn’t finish it?” 

“Charlotte.”

“What, baby?” Her voice taunts me as she slides her hand into mine and arching her back a little. My entire body feels like it’s full of butterflies. 

My face tucked into her, I quietly laughed while pressing kisses to the top of her shoulder. If she keeps calling me that, I don’t know how I’m going to ever say no to her. I kiss the side of her neck, pulling her body tight against mine before whispering into her ear, “You’re gonna have to stay quiet this time. Can you do that for me, honey?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Sixteen

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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[i2ycat]

crossing boundaries

pairing. enhypen hyung line x fem!reader synopsis. the fine line between friends and something more always seems to be crossed whenever u text them genre. smau, friends to ???, fluff warnings. cursing, drunk jake main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

maknae line ver.

© i2ycat 2025 just wanted to post a short little smau because why not <//3 i’ll be making the maknae line ver soon!!

[topgungirlies]

A Little Taste | Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: not much :) just something i was working on

As you stood in the living room you shared with your boyfriend, Jake Seresin, you tried to pay attention to your best friend’s rant about his current hyperfixation. It’s something about like space aliens or like cyborg robots or something, his wife, Evelyn had tried to explain before Mickey corrected her for ‘just how wrong that statement was.’

So there you were, huddled in a trio with two of your favorite people, but looking at someone else. Jake sat in the other room, beer in one hand while the other waved around as he told some overdramatized story to his friends Bradley and Javy. You were mesmerized. No matter how many times you looked at Jake, you could never believe that he was truly yours.

It’s true that you had been together for about six months and it’s also true that he was planning on marrying you, but it all felt so fleeting. Like one day you’d look away and the promise of a perfect life with the perfect man would all just fade away.

But there he was, all muscle and tan, playing cards with his wingmen on the dining room table you picked out together. And, as if he could sense your eyes on him, he looked up to smile back at you.

The two of you stayed like that for a short while before Jake stood up in the middle of a hand and walked over to where you stood, gaining confused and curious looks from the men sitting opposite him. Your smile only grew as he walked closer to you, past the couple who was still debating whether or not “space aliens” was an accurate term, and placed a large hand on the small of your back. Pulling you close to him, you let out a gasp as he gently placed his fingers beneath your chin and captured you in a passionate kiss.

You couldn’t tell for a moment if you were blushing out of lust or embarrassment. You could feel all of your friends’ eyes on you, but it didn’t matter. You were there, in the home you shared with the love of your life, and he was kissing you in front of your closest friends. After a while, he pulled back and smiled at your puffy lips and shocked expression.

“You can keep staring if you’d like, sugar, but I figured I could give you a little taste of what I bet you were fantasizing about. I’ll make sure to save the rest for later.” With his signature Hangman wink and a small smirk directed at your best friend, he walked back to sit down at the table. For the rest of the night, despite how close you were in proximity, Jake never kept his eyes off of you.

[wildbluesorbit]

Wounded II || JTK

…A Continuation of London

18+MDNI

Paring: Jakexreader(f)

LONDON SERIES MASTERPOST

A/N: It’s arrival is finally upon us… so sorry it only took three weeks:( I promise the wait was worth though; out of the whole series, this installment was my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE to create !! Shoutout to @tommie-gvf for editing:) I am beyond excited to hear what y'all think!

i didn't notice the last 2k words cut off (x)

Summary || Navigating through the aftermath of your argument, you can’t bring yourself to face Jake.

Content Warnings || toxic relationship, agoraphobia, haphephobia, explicit depictions of night terrors/panic attack, brief mentions of anger and physical aggression and bodily harm and murder/death and sexual assault, verbal aggression, reckless/distracted driving, brief mention of drug use, unsolicited touched, allusions to depressive and isolative episodes, [non-aggressive] unannounced entry into readers bedroom, a very brief boner lol

Word Count || 7.2k

— JAKE —

You wince at the strain of your stiff muscles propped against her bedroom door, eyes accosted by the morning light. The sequence of how the cold hard floor became your bed for the night is less than clear. Your only clues, the taste of liquor and guilt still bitter on your dry tongue, you are most likely the asshole. 

You will your aching body upwards, the pounding in your head follows your first step. You accomplish the odyssey that is the hallway to your bedroom and start on your appearance for the studio; the account of the night before depositing itself moment by moment as you ooze about your room. 

Still couldn’t get your puppy out of her little cage?

You cringe as you brush your teeth and fight your tangled tresses to loop into a low bun, a tangible distraction to repress the clawing conviction. 

I heard she won’t even let you pet her.

A huff escapes you as you slip on your socks and step into your boots. You grab your coat, intent on heading downstairs, but you instead find yourself not strong enough to withstand the gravity, unable to accomplish your trek to the stairs; slave to the magnetic field of her bedroom door. You try to sketch out some impression of last night’s details, but clarity refuses to reveal itself to you. You study the ridges of the wooden frame and grumble to the clueless girl you pray is comatose on the other side.

The sound of your older brother calling you from downstairs breaks your spell as you shuffle towards the source.

The guy who put his hands on you has got nothing to do with me. 

Don’t you think you’ve carried this weight way too far?

Thick eyebrows furrow in your direction as a baffled Josh canvasses your face for any indication as to why you struggle to recite a simple breakfast order; your disconcerting recollections jerking you by the reins in and out of disassociation. You almost wish you could remain inviolable in your amnesic ignorance. 

When are you going to stop being so apathetic towards this?! 

You shake off your shame as you put aside the freshly delivered food on the kitchen counter for her to find after she wakes up. You lock the front door after Josh walks through and take a deep cleansing breath before you step into your car, knowing you can’t take this baggage to the studio with you. 

You don’t get to speak to me this way.

I’ll be out the door.

Your twin yells over the roar of the rumble strips from the passenger seat as you stray into the shoulder, “Jake?! The road!”

Fuck you, Jacob. 

Just another thing you have yet to do. 

You plug in at the studio, butchering and tripping over riffs of your own design. 

The completely broken and mortified look you painted on her face.

The vision curses you blunderingly dumbfounded.

“Okay, let’s take a quick five,” Josh says over his brothers' instruments while silently interrogating you from across the booth.  

You mentally rewind to realize you had completely missed your entrance.

An aggravatingly tone-deaf Sam challenges the sudden hiatus, “But we just started?”

Josh blusters his youngest brother a look that threatens unbridled rage. 

A sympathetic Danny steps in to rescue a clueless Sam from Josh’s wrath, “Sam, want to go get high?”

Like dangling shiny keys in front of a toddler, Sam’s attention is now fixated on Danny’s proposal. The two giggling men giddily scurry out of the booth up to no good. As soon as the exit door swings shut Josh stomps over to you, rolling his eyes.

He unpacks his authoritative older sibling's tone as his hands wildly comb through the air for your confession, “Okay, enough moping, out with it.”

You don’t even bother armoring a defense. You know very well you would end up confiding in Josh sooner or later. You ineptly unload every detail you can extract from memory in an iniquitous admission to your twin. 

You haven’t even finished speaking your closing statement when a pinching sting burrows against your skin as a result of Josh’s backhand assailing your bicep. You hiss through pressed lips and rub over the infliction with your opposite hand, yet you don’t dare challenge the considerably clement treatment. 

“You are such a prick sometimes, I swear,” Josh professes through gritted teeth.

You’re so consumed by your guilt you can’t even concoct an offense.

“Do you think she's going to leave- Fuck, I would never speak to me again,” you answer your own question.

Your pleading eyes frisk over Josh’s identical features, hungry for some kind of reprieving answer. Yet his same honest spirit that knots and kneads your stomach is the same one that always gravitates you towards Josh for counsel in the first place.

“I can’t answer that for you, but I think it's important you at least give her enough distance to think clearly,” Josh dismally warns. 

Your thumb and middle finger start at the crease of your eyebrow and rub outwards to your temples, tugging at your skin till your fingertips reach your hairline and fall through your tied-back strands, “Did I fuck this up, Josh?”

You almost wish you couldn’t read his expression of pessimism as Sam and Danny reenter the studio, bursting at the seams with a laughter that you can’t even fathom in this moment. Their giggles cut right through your exchange with your twin. Josh squeezes your shoulder and gives you a smirk of consolation before resettling himself in his designated portion of the booth. His way of wordlessly telling you to keep your chin up and you’d discuss it later. 

You try your best to adjourn your sins for now as you know it is time for studio work and studio work only, yet still stumble and topple through every note without a hint of grace until the very last beat of the session. 

—YOU —

”Went to the studio, will be back late.  Enjoy your day                 -J “

Jake’s handwriting on the cardboard coffee cup sleeve informs you of his whereabouts. You inhale deeply, allowing the sweet soothing aroma of your favorite roast to sweep you to a better day. You are also embraced with an alluring savory scent. You restively snatch the small paper bag on the kitchen island that rests against your drink to discover an entirely different note. 

“p.s. Jake bought you a muffin too but  I got hungry :) - the other J”

You smile to yourself and unfold the crinkled brown bag to discover the comfort of your favorite grilled chicken caprese sandwich. You giddily scurry back to your room to start your day. 

You’ve found that making lists and organizing your time usually helps your mind from wandering where it shouldn't. So, you do just that. You make your lists. You order things low in stock around the house. You check your emails. 

You know you should close your laptop once you finish your clients’ work. Yet you find your mouse hovering over a new search bar. Foolishly, the hunt for apartments has begun with only a few clicks; knowing damn well you threatened your leaving in anger and don’t plan on going anywhere.

But as you scroll through listing after listing you begin to feel like maybe it could be time to leave and move on. Maybe you are suffocating everyone, but they can’t bring themselves to tread through your undoubtedly trauma-infested waters, hoping sooner or later you’ll fall off like a rotting limb. Or maybe the problem isn’t you but your lack of a clean slate. Maybe Jake ties you to the root of the tragedy just as much as he shelters you and grounds you in its aftermath. 

Instinctively, your monitor is slammed shut as your breath begins to flee from you. Even if this is true you can't make a decision based on some childish blurt. This would take genuine rumination. Which you are incapable of, considering you aren’t a hundred percent sure this isn’t some impulsive ammunition aimed at Jake. 

You sweep your consciousness clean and distract yourself with other productivity. You journal and read and wander around till you’d find a guitar. You do whatever you can to keep yourself busy.

Before you know it, the day turns into a week. You had been going to bed early before the boys got home so you really hadn’t spoken to anyone. You hadn’t even been purposely avoiding Jake, but space is what you keep telling yourself is best for the both of you since the other night. 

It is only five in the afternoon when you hear car doors slam in the driveway from where you have been stuck in the same book for hours in the library. You instinctively shut the hardback with a smack and fly upstairs.

Even though it has been over a week, you aren’t yet ready to talk to Jake. You have certainly forgiven his assailment but you hadn’t yet figured out how to face him or his words. So you tuck yourself away in your room, never to be seen.

That is until you hear a light knocking at your door a few hours later.

You freeze, careful to not make a sound. You hope that silence will discourage whatever suitor is on the other side, enough to leave you alone. 

“It’s just me,” you hear Josh’s voice travel through your room. 

Still cautious, you impugn before moving a muscle, “Yes?”

“It's okay, Jake’s not here,” he says flatly. 

You exhale in relief but still inch the door open slowly. You guardedly investigate to discover it is, in fact, Josh and only Josh. You still greet him with narrowed eyes. 

“You can relax, sunshine, the man is on a liquor run,” Josh reassures you. 

You are accosted by his bugging eyes till he gestures to the slight gap in the doorway, “Can I come in or-?”

You ostensibly inspect him, “All right but I’m going to have to pat you for any wires.”

Josh throws his head back in a quick sharp laugh as he welcomes himself into your room, “Ha! Don’t threaten me with a good time, sunshine. But I would not spy for Jake. I’m strictly here on third-party business.”

He makes himself comfortable on your bed and sits resting against your headboard; something you’ve always admired about Josh is his ability to make home anywhere and draw close to anyone. 

Once he settles, he sets your pillows against the wall next to him and smacks his hand against your comforter a few times, ushering you to join him on your own bed. You roll your eyes with a smile and jump onto your designated spot next to him. 

You force a cheeky smile, “So to what do I owe this displeasure?”

He places his hands over his chest and feigns an offended gasp, “Well, I was just coming to check on you.”

You remind yourself that you are safe with Josh and it's only his way of showing he genuinely cares when he places his hand over yours. It's like running against the wind, but it's all you can do to not shudder and immediately pull away.

His speech carries concern as he lightly squeezes your hand, “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Is that on purpose?”

You tense a bit at the directness of his question, “Not really. You have just been going into the studio early and staying out late recently.”

“Well, just remember isolation isn’t good for anyone and-”

“Josh-,” you start but he sings over you to finish his sentence.

“...and we miss you,” he lovingly interjects. 

Your words come out sharper than you intend, “We? Who’s we?”

“Yes, we.” he mimics your satire, “Me, Danny, Sam, and especially Jake.”

“Well, obviously not too much if it's you here and not him,” your tongue instinctually retorts.

“He doesn’t want to suffocate you is all, believe me, he certainly misses you,” Josh rolls his eyes, making you curious about Jake’s behavior after your argument.

“Sunshine,” Josh cuts directly to his inquiry, tired of tiptoeing, “What happened the other night?”

“Please,” you almost snort, “I’m convinced you and Jake secretly compare bowel movements. Don’t act like he didn’t already tell you every detail.”

“I mean he did,” Josh confesses, “I just want to hear what you have to say and see how you’re feeling. It might help you to talk about it.”

“Also, you’re gross,” he blurts and narrows his eyes. 

“As much as I totally want to relive your brother’s cruel words, Josh, I trust Jake told you everything like it happened but-,” you hesitate, the realization you might not like the answer just now seeping heavy into your bones, “what happened at the bar? Between Danny’s call and Jake's temper, I can tell something wasn’t right.”

Josh’s features drop with his shoulders and an exhale, “He didn’t tell you?”

You see an indiscernible visage dart across his features after you shake your head no. You recognize it as condolence as he carefully recounts that night in every stomach-knotting detail; depicting a very doleful Jake, a “bitch-for-brains loudmouth” as Josh put it and her insolent tears at Jake, followed by his solemn exit and dodged phone calls. 

Your heart writhes from its relocation in the pit of your stomach, almost sick at the thought. Your inability to leave the house is now bleeding into all aspects of his life and polluting his liveliness you loved so; a light that has seen you through the ugliest dark. 

Josh frees you from the quicksand of your spiraling thoughts with a fragmented one of his own, “He waits for you, you know?”

He must read the confusion on your face as he rephrases, coloring in the empty lines with a bit more context, “Every night- Jake- He’ll always have this stupid giddy look on his face when he tells us the good news that you should be joining that evening. And I know my brother, he genuinely believes it. I can tell he’s not being optimistic or even humoring himself, or you. Then when he shows alone, he’s never angry or upset. He’ll just tell us you were too tired or weren’t feeling up for the outing. But I swear to you- his eyes never leave the door. Even if distracted, his body is always facing the entrance. He’ll never admit it- I’m not even sure if it's a conscious habit, but he always holds out hope that you’ll show up. We all do- just can’t hold a flame up to him. I have yet to hear him speak a bad word of you or complain of your absence. He has such faith in you, more than I think you realize, and I have yet to see it dim. I’ve never seen Jake so far gone in love with someone and he only wants to see you grow.”

Your mouth opens to speak but all words seem 10,000 miles from your horizon. Your eyes begin to pool as you try to grab at any response, his last words poisoning any other ideations. Neither Jake nor you had spoken a word of “I love you” to each other since that harrowing night, much less did he mention being in love. 

You want to ask Josh a thousand questions of what he meant by that. What has Jake said? What has Jake done? How does he know for certain? You have to leave now, right? Wouldn’t that be the selfless thing to do? Yet, you can’t vocalize one.

The debut of your salty streaming eyes ushers Josh to reel in his sermon, “Look- you don’t have to say anything- unless you want to. I definitely want to hear but I don’t want to pry. And I don’t tell you this to make you feel bad, I’m just trying to give him some credit and it's something I thought you should take into consideration. Just in case you felt as if that might be impeding you. So when you do return, that's one less thing off your plate. I promise no one will look at you differently. We're all just so eager and ready to have you back by our side again.”

His immediate addition is an exact echo of his brother, “No rush though. You do what feels right, sunshine.”

You swipe at your glossy cheeks and only nod in understanding, still unable to grasp a word. 

“Alright, I also just wanted to let you know we have a flight in the morning and  we’re out of town for the next few days,” he steers the conversation in a less hazardous direction. 

“So you’ll have the house to yourself,” he playfully wags his finger in your face, “and no ragers, young lady. I mean it!” 

“No promises, but I’ll see you when you get back,” you pucker your lips, caperingly blowing him a kiss. 

“Unless you want to be a stowaway? No one would stop you,” his eyes grow wide along with his smile; the same one that always grants you such safety when it appears on his twin. 

You lark, “But then when would I have my party?!”

“Ah, clever girl,” he accepts his defeat. 

Josh takes liberty and scoots down to lay cozy in your bed, indicating he is going to regale you with his illustriously dazzling conversation. And he does. You catch up with each other on your weeks and he tells you what they plan to do on their trip. You ask him how Sam and Danny are doing, and then Jake.

Just as he's illustrating an anecdote of some embarrassing and eccentric stunt Sam pulled to infuriate Jake today, you hear the heavy steps of tired boots coming up the stairs. 

Josh’s story is totally derailed by his twin, “He sure is heavy-footed for someone so small.”

“You know you’re just as-” you start. 

“For my whole life, unfortunately,” he shakes his head in a faux grief. 

“Well, we have an early start and I was told I can’t be late this time,” he rolls his eyes, “I better head to bed.”

Josh exuberantly springs from the mattress to his feet and theatrically bows in a goodbye, knowing better than to attempt any sort of embrace. 

He pulls away to make eye contact, “Be right back, call if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you throw him one last jest, “Have a safe flight and don’t forget Sam’s leash!”

“Please, he’s Danny’s pet, not mine,” he scoffs and saunters towards the door, “goodnight, sunshine, love you.”

You tell Josh goodnight and return his love before he winks you goodbye and gently shuts your door, disappearing behind it. 

You giggle as the sounds of him dramatically stomping down the stairs in a motion to Jake’s prior thuds through your room. 

That night, sleep hides itself away from you. Josh’s words chase each other, crashing and rattling around your head like a pack of rabid wolves. With each passing second you can’t help but think of the warm-bodied man down the hall from you. 

Is he fast asleep, unbothered by you? Is he awake? Is he thinking of you too? Does your presence burden him? Is he fighting the urge to come see you? Is your name on his lips?

Your racing thoughts are broken by the trudging of a sleepy, no doubt grumpy, Jake. 

The footsteps travel from his room and seem to concentrate as they get closer to your door, until directly in front. You hold your breath as you hear Jake mutter something and hiss in frustration. You’re only able to make out his last words as they barrel from his throat. 

“Please, just- be here when I get back,” he implores the silence of an empty hallway.

Your chest pounds erratically, your heart threatening to escape its cage. It’d only been a week but you don’t realize how much you ached for him until your bones entered a state of conniption at the sound of his slumber-rasped voice. 

You know he assumes you’re asleep and these words aren't yours to hear. You can’t help but wonder if this is the first night he’s addressed your inanimate door. Your malaised heart sings a mourning song to the resentful tune of Jake’s boots dragging him towards the stairs and away from you.

A decent night’s sleep still refuses to slip into your covers with you, so it's the sun that puts you to bed. The next few nights prove the same. You try your best to fix your sleep pattern, performing laborious tasks during the day to tire yourself out but it renders useless.

You refuse to take any kind of relaxant, as the haze always takes you back to a sensation you never want to return to. You aren’t sure if it's Josh’s words or another bad storm on your horizon, but you have become an insomniac. 

It has only been 4 days, but each one is a bit more challenging than the previous; today rains over you like a hailstorm. 

You don't want to get out of bed. You don’t want to get up to use the bathroom. You don’t want to shower or get dressed. You don’t even want to eat.

You have no wants, only musts.

You must get up, must relieve yourself, must shower, must dress, and you must eat. Or you will not survive. You will die here, swallowed whole by nothingness. No one is here to tell you what to do. No one is coming to your rescue. 

Something different. Routine is a consistent companion until it is your cage.

A break. You convince yourself you need an unfamiliar happening to overwhelm your senses. An affair to shock you back to your feeble bubble of fleeting stability. A change in scenery.

You find yourself in a hysteric pace around that front door. There is nothing to lose at this point. No one here to witness if you fail. Everyone’s words run through you.

There is no rush.

But there is. You are already behind. This house is running out of oxygen. You are already rotting here. This habit will soon blur into home. 

You take a deep breath and turn the knob. Not daring to chart with eyesight first, you fling yourself through that open door as if at any moment you might be sucked back inside. 

The air enwraps you, brisk and cool. The undeniable fragrance of a distinct autumn breeze interrupts its commute, reminding you of how miserable you’ve been without it. Your sight is allured by your new porcelain shade in the sun; you have prodigiously neglected your melanin to a pallid skin tone you’ve never worn before. 

You propel forward, telling yourself to just keep moving. You secure your place at the end of the extensive driveway and unwisely decide you can make it down the sidewalk.

You should know better than to think you could outsmart panic without strategy. You feel storm clouds roll in thick all around you; and wherever there’s rain, thunder is sure to follow.

Suddenly the boundless reaches of the stratosphere isn’t enough to save you from the suffocation of the world crumbling fast around you. You pivot until you’re barreling back down the path you came. You almost lunge through the door and lock yourself back inside.

You gait about the living room performing your breathing and self-soothing exercises. All children’s play in the wake of your hijacking terror. You eventually catch your breath but the tremors bond with you. 

Whatever was eating at you earlier was only amplified by your brief spontaneous journey outside of the house. But you had foolishly led the demon inside with you, it is now clawing at the walls and howling throughout the halls. 

You search for sleeping pills having no hope to rest organically tonight, accepting their necessity to your survival. You only look at your bed before deciding it's not even worth the noble fit of tossing and turning. You make sure you are ready for bed before scurrying into Jake’s room and crawling under his sheets. Yet you still can’t shake the feeling of a lurking apparition. 

However, the ingested medication now emanating throughout your bloodstream is impervious to your stalking condemnation. You anchor your antidote to the soothing aroma of Jake present in his bedsheets as you are shoved into void. 

You recognize the alley as soon as you are there. Beads of frigid rain pelt against your pink achy skin. The crying sky creates a misty halo against neon lights and coats everything it dances upon with a bleary gloss.

You are pinned against the wall in an instant by that vicious and nauseating smile. You try to fight but all at once you are being poked and prodded and beaten into an involuntary submission. Until your rescuer arrives.

Too enervated to attempt escape as your oppressor is distracted, Jake lunges forward. Yet he never makes contact before he falls to the ground, a dark red dye seeping from his center into his clothes. You somehow escape your attacker to see him wielding a blade.

You run to where Jake is withering away on the glittering asphalt. You attempt to cradle him, but he hisses at your touch. 

Despite his wounds, he is the one to console you, telling you you’re perfect like he always does. Your only power remains in a helpless squeeze of his hand as he pours out onto the slick black top and you see his light flicker out. 

 – JAKE –

The headlights of the car illuminate your home sweet home as the chauffeur pulls up the driveway. The incline of the path almost causes light to leak into her bedroom window, where you hope she is fast asleep, deep enough that she won’t be bothered by the slight brightness.

You got home two days earlier than expected and you plan on surprising her in the morning. 

God, how you have ached for her, lit yourself on fire for her; all to let it sift through your grasp over some drunken slurs. You wanted her to have space, but hope tomorrow will hold mercy for you as you can’t restrain yourself any longer. 

The driver reaches the house and Josh and you exhaustedly crawl out of the vehicle. You retrieve your luggage before sluggishly dragging it and yourselves to the front door. You swear you grow weary with each second of jangling keys as Josh absentmindedly sifts through each metal shard; standing helpless till he feels the right shape in his hand. The click of the lock barely registers as you are greeted by the cool A/C of the foyer and the smell of home. 

All vitality spent on your journey, neither of you has spoken a word since you landed. As you start to head your separate ways, you bid each other goodnight through a silent nod. 

Only for it to be ambushed by her petrifying heart-grating scream, “JAKE?! JAKE?!” 

One might only assume you’re prey to predators the way you instinctively soar to the stairs, up to your level, and towards her room. Without a word, you hear Josh’s footsteps apace behind you. 

You almost slam into her door moving so fast. You swing it wide open, mouth agape as she is nowhere in sight. Your heart pounds in your temples as panic now starts to clamp tight around your chest. The only other time you recall this measure of a corrosive dread being the night you couldn’t find her anywhere at that party. 

“JAKE?!”

Another scream immediately reveals her location to you. You dart out of her room, down the hall, and into yours.

There she is. Under the warm glow of your salt lamp-lit room, wrapped in your covers, leaking eyes scrunched shut, a lump of muffled indiscernible murmurs and whimpers, and visibly shaking. 

“I think she is just having a nightmare,” you authoritatively order Josh out of the room, “I’m going to wake her, but you should go, I don’t want to overwhelm her.”  

You pad towards the bed and caress whatever limb you contact first, buried underneath your blankets. Gently, you begin to coo her to consciousness.

She springs to life, petrified by your unrecognizable silhouette under the poor lighting and only just emerged from her dream state. Clumsily, she slips off the bed and tumbles to the floor, disoriented and gasping for air.

The thud from her spilled limbs on the hardwood floor nearly syncs with yours, as your knees plunge to the cold surface the moment you register her fall.

You place your palms visibly out to her, indicating her safety, “Hey- It’s me. It's Jake. I’m home.”

“No- Jake- you- he- he’s gone,” she bewilderedly sobs out almost in a question. 

You aren’t sure if she is referring to your trip or something she saw in her dream and is convinced is reality.

You keep trying to rip her from whatever hallucination has its jaws around her, “No, baby, you're safe. You’re home with me, in Nashville. I got in early.” 

She finally seems to digest your words, her glassy eyes [partially] pacified by your newly registered presence before whispering your identification, “Jake?”

When it comes to her, your first instinct is always a consoling touch, but you have learned an unsolicited embrace only runs her further from your protection. However, you have to try. 

“Yes, babygirl,” you reassure before you approach, not wanting to spook her, “can I come near you?”

You’re astounded when she only responds by leaping into your lap and wrapping herself around your torso. 

Within an instant, your arms have gratefully found their seal around her waist. Your calloused fingertips ever so slightly sink into her buzzing flesh, wrestling with every muscle, willing yourself not to tear her apart. How have you starved for the shape of her, the weight of her, the warmth of her very skin. Fuck- to finally hold her again feels so fucking good. 

“Jake- this time- and- he got you- then you-,” she fights through stuttering breaths.

“Hey, no more of that,” you gently assert to sedate whatever terroristic figments are plaguing her in your arms, “I’m here now. I've got you.”

Still trembling, she nuzzles her face into your neck and hysterically rasps out, “Jake, please don’t leave me. I can’t- Jacob, I love you. I can’t lose you. I can’t take it!”

You have no idea as to what she saw in her nightmare, only that you have never seen one leave her this rattled. You can feel her at war with her own breath as her panic continues to steal it from her.

A trick from the therapist resurfaces and you take the dips of her waist within your firm grasp to briefly withdraw her from your embrace, “Hey, I’ve got you, but I need you to listen to the sound of my voice. Focus on what I’m saying, okay?”

You don’t wait for her to respond before taking her hand and running it across the material of your blue corduroy jacket, “You feel that? It's your favorite jacket of mine, the one you always steal when we go for a drive.”

You ever so slightly draw yourself back in closer to her, “I need you to take a deep breath. Smell that? It’s the cologne you bought me for my birthday?”

She concentrates on her inhalation, occupied with taking an exaggerated breath. She slowly begins to nod.

You can see the sensory stimulation starting to ground her so you attempt to redirect her focus, “And what did I promise? I need to hear you say it.”

She takes a long shaky breath, “You- You said no more leaving. You promised.”

You place her jaw safely within the shelter of your palm and press your forehead to hers; without warning, you’re captivated by a time of exigency to live off the same breath as her.

“That’s right, and I’m here now and I’m not leaving you again,” you vow.

You scoop her back into your arms and off the floor. She clings to you as you turn off the lamp and cradle her back into the fortress of your bed, curling up around her for safekeeping. 

You caress and console and coo until finally, her quaking stops and breathing evens out as she is welcomed back to slumber. The rhythmic rising and falling of her rib cage underneath your touch lulls you into your own dormancy. 

the last scene cut off (x)

pretty please let me know what you think :))

taglist <;3 - @ageofbajabule @alwaysonthemend @anythingforjtk @becinabubblegvf @dancingcarbon @dannys-dream @dayumclarizzel @do-it-jakey-baby @dont-go-home-without-me @edgingthedarkness @fomopheobe @gretasfallingsky @gretavangirlie @gretavanglimmers @gretavangroupie @gvf23 @gvfmarge @hannahrk @heckingfrick @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @jakeysbuttsheeks @lipstickitty @livkiszka @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @mountain-in-springtime @mrbrownstne @nina-23-45 @notjordie-gvf @sacredjake @smoking-jakelane @sparrowofthedawnsworld @kiszkas-canvas @takenbythemadness @thewritingbeforesunrise @tommie-gvf @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @violet-hayes @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

[xzinbdg]

NO WAY BRO ❕️❕️

۶ৎ synopsis: sim y/n, sim jake's sister, has known lee heeseung, her older brother's best friend, for ages. In her mind, he sees her like a little sister, but in reality, he has lost all his girlfriends because of his feelings for her, too bad he's afraid of her brother's reaction.

۶ৎ pairing: brother's best friend!heeseung x reader

۶ৎ genre: smau, brother's bestfriend, forbidden love, angst, fluff, crack

۶ৎ warnings: might be a bit suggestive, heeseung is like 2 years older than reader, specific warnings will be in chapters if needed.

۶ৎ featuring: enhypen, yeonjun (txt), winter (aespa), natty (kiss of life), leehan & jaehyun (boynextdoor), ricky (zerobaseone)

۶ৎ playlist: for my love that i can't have.

۶ৎ status: on going!

start (25.02.2025) end ???

۶ৎ taglist: OPEN

main masterlist

pookies ★ alphas

1. how cooked are u???

2. why he kinda…

3. good luck…babe

4. myungjae???? out of everyone????

5. demon child 😰

6. a chance

7. moonstruck

8. c’mon you bitchless man

9. in my clown era

10. serenade her or something idk

11. only if you say yes.

12. girlfriend nr6??

13. don't wanna go back

14. depression postponed

15. no babies until ur 30.

16. he's not dead bro

17. who's this crazy woman..

TBA...