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char-lotta · 1 year ago

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Oh, I loved this so much!

Sweeter Than Fiction

Jake x MC First Date One Shot

Words: 2.4k

Jake and MC go on their first real date. Shy, and awkward, Jake can’t seem to get his words to come out right. Luckily, MC is fluent in Jake and she is delighted to help him figure it out.

It is very fluffy, very sweet and super soft. I haven’t named MC, or described her in detail. I wrote this instead of the battle I’ve dreaded for months, and the epilogue I should have posted weeks ago🤭❤️

Jake

Anxiety was simply an electrical storm in his brain. A painful, confusing, and frustrating storm, but he knew it was all caused by himself. That didn’t stop him from fretting. Pacing the floors, biting his nails to the quick as he tried and failed to gather the courage to knock on her door. Why was he so nervous? He was taking her out for their first real date. He’d spent the last few days with her, always leaving before it got too late, yet he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he stared at the door. His shirt collar turned into a noose, and he couldn’t get enough air. It was stupid. He knew that, but it didn’t matter. Emotions didn’t respond to logic, and he hadn’t yet learned how to calm them.

Sighing, shaking his head, and desperately ignoring the creeping shame crawling up his neck, he squared his shoulders, raised his fist, and gave the door 3 sharp knocks before his mind could turn against him again. He held his breath as running footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door. The metallic click of a key turning in the lock made it to his ears over the fierce beat of his heart. And there she was. Smiling brightly, a vision of loveliness and freedom as she beckoned him inside and told him to wait while she grabbed her purse and jacket. Her blue sundress fluttered around her calves, and her loose hair fell down her back in gentle waves. She was a daydream he’d never dared to allow himself to have.

“What do you think?” She asked as she emerged from her bedroom, giving him a twirl and an expectant smile.

He thought many things as he ran his gaze over her small form. Stunning, perfect, and far too good for him, but he wouldn’t be the one to tell her that. She hadn’t listened the first time, and he wanted to keep her.

“You look like music.” He said and wanted to slap himself as she frowned and cocked a brow.

“I look like music? Is that Jake language, or are you nervous?” She teased. His cheeks were on fire, and the noose/collar around his throat tightened more as her lips curled upward.

“I’m nervous, but I meant it. You look like music you can get lost in, the kind that makes you want to dance and feel it.”

Her smile wobbled slightly, eyes sparkling as she turned her gaze to the floor and shook her head. He immediately assumed she was upset and cursed his lack of confidence. But then she grinned, and he saw only joy in her endless eyes.

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

Jake breathed a sigh of relief, his head spinning as she sidled up to him and slipped her arm through his. Somehow, it became easy, simple, and straightforward as they left her house and walked to his car. He opened her door for her, reluctant to let her go but impatient to get their night started. As they drove away, she quickly connected her phone to the car speakers, and he relaxed as music filled the charged silence between them. He kept stealing glances at her, hungrily memorizing every detail to obsess over later. The summer sun had tinted her skin the color of honey, and more freckles sprinkled like glitter across her cheeks from long summer days working in her garden. She was most at home with her hands in the dirt, leaves in her hair, and flowers blooming wild around her.

He was useless at keeping plants alive and preferred to watch her in her element while he worked on his laptop in the shade. She peppered him with random questions as they drove. He was grateful as it took his mind off of how clammy his hands were on the steering wheel. She quizzed him on everything from his favorite song to his most hated subject during his school years. Hanging on his every word like he held the answer to everything she'd ever wondered in her life. It was difficult to concentrate on the road, so enchanted by the woman riding shotgun he couldn't focus as well as he should. Luckily, the road was quiet, and they were soon pulling into a parking spot behind the restaurant.

Instead of a Chinese place, he'd chosen a little mom-and-pop Italian restaurant. They had eaten Chinese takeout for the last couple of days, and neither fancied it again tonight. He got out of the car and hurried around the front of it to open her door. Her coy smile of thanks boosted his confidence a little as she again took his arm, and they made their way to the entrance. Once inside, they were taken to a table in the corner, away from too many prying eyes, and Jake thanked the waitress after giving their drink orders. They were handed menus and were soon left to peruse them. He doubted he would be able to taste anything and blindly picked the first pasta dish his eyes landed on and set his menu down.

Fidgeting fingers gave away his nerves as she put her menu on the table and eyed him carefully.

“Jake, why do you look like you're about to jump off a cliff?” She chuckled lightly, eyes full of understanding.

He cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck, and avoided her opal gaze as he replied, “I'm just not used to being able to do things like this. I wasn't prepared for how overwhelming it would be.”

She tilted her head, “How can we make it less scary, then?”

Jake went very still, eyes widening and utterly shocked she hadn't laughed or mocked him. All he saw was kindness and affection on her sweet face, and it made him a little braver.

“I think I just have to get used to it,” He shrugged, knowing he'd be nervous until the paranoia and fear he was being watched fully lifted.

She considered it, nodding once as she reached across the table and gently stopped him from picking at his nails, threading her fingers through his as she said, “So, exposure therapy then? We'll work together, and maybe it'll shift faster.” She winked, making him laugh and shake his head.

His fingers tingled pleasantly, and a delightful warmth spread from his chest, down to his legs, and up his neck, burning away some of the fear thickening his tongue.

“If you think that'll help, I trust your superior knowledge of how humans behave. If it doesn't come with a power button, I'm lost,” He jested sarcastically, so she grinned and flashed those distracting dimples again.

“I'll have you mimicking humans perfectly within a month.” She declared, nodding decisively as the waitress returned with their drinks, and they gave her their order.

And just like that, he could ignore the buzzing in his ears. The nerves faded to a muffled chattering in the back of his head as they discussed what movie they'd watch later. She was partial to cheesy horror movies, while he hadn't seen many movies to have an opinion. Whenever he struggled for words, she read them on his face and supplied him with the right ones. He was used to frustration and scorn whenever he couldn't handle something in a social setting, but she never even blinked and seemed able to read between the lines of his frown or smile. It was a new kind of freedom, and the restaurant felt more like hallowed sacred ground to him. Like he'd entered a dreamland full of happy chatter, the fragrance of freshly cooked tomatoes and garlic, the vivid colors, it all seemed oddly unreal.

When the waitress brought their meals, they fell into a peaceful quiet as they ate and only spoke to offer each other bites of food or to ponder whether to share a desert or get one each. It was effortless once he was out of his head, and it was good, real, and right. He might be a mess of tangled-up emotions, flaws, and enough baggage to fill a train, but she wanted him anyway, and it was enough. Love. He hadn't known it for a long time, thought he wouldn't recognize it when it showed up, but he felt it now. It was a quiet emotion lurking under the louder ones as it slowly became part of the oxygen he needed to breathe. Often it felt like it wasn't there at all, but when she was gone, he was gasping and choking for air until she returned. Something that constantly paced along his ribcage settled whenever she was near, and it felt like magic.

Pushing his plate away, surprised he'd managed to eat and enjoy it, he relaxed in his chair, took a drink of water to clear his mouth of the herbs. She was done soon after and leaned her elbows on the table, lowering her voice so only he would hear.

“I think we should get two desserts to go. I can't decide between the tiramisu and cheesecake. We can eat the leftovers for breakfast, or a midnight snack” her singular eyes twinkled under the dim lights, and his stomach dipped, butterflies taking flight.

He knew what she was implying, and he wanted to spend the night with her more than he wanted to live. His imagination was sorely lacking in the romance department, and he was terrified he'd forgotten how to act or respond during an intimate encounter. Still, her breezy manner and lighthearted way of approaching his tendency to brood and fret soothed the ragged, raw nerves under his skin. Like aloe on sunburn, she knew how to relieve and quell the sting of everything he failed to say. So he ordered the two deserts and had them packed to go. Her smile never wavered, and he drew confidence from it. She clearly wanted this and him. He just had to believe he deserved it. It was enough for now that she believed it, and he hoped to learn in time how to do so himself.

The sky when they stepped outside, was a livid, violent bruise overhead. Shades of pink, violet, and red blended and clashed as the sun turned into bed, the fading light casting long shadows on the tarmac under their feet. She turned her face to the sky and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he wished he were skilled in the arts so he could paint her at that moment. He smiled as she opened her eyes and held his hand out. Static fizzed up his arm when she took it, and they slowly made their way to the car. Playing the gentleman, he opened her door first and waited for her to get inside, but she stared up at him expectantly, and his heart took off in a gallop as her hand cupped his cheek. Leaning into her touch, pressing his forehead to hers, and admiring the myriad of colors in her changeable eyes, he drew in a breath that infused him with her warm, sweet scent.

“You should always kiss your date before leaving. It's dating law.” She murmured, nuzzling his nose with hers, and he felt as if he would float away if she dropped her hand.

“We're going home together. I didn't think it counted,” He whispered, just to taste her laugh on his parted lips a mere inch from hers.

“Silly man, it always counts.”

Before he could chicken out, he closed the distance between them and marveled at how soft her lips were, pliant and supple as they melted into his. Every kiss felt like the first, like he had finally returned home after years at sea or stranded in some wasteland. Tender, gentle, and insistent, she soon yielded to him and let him inside. Her other hand curled into his shirt, pulling him even closer, and he sank his fingers into her lush hair, tilting her head for better access as she hummed low in her throat. He lost himself in her and never wanted to be found. She shivered when he gently nipped her plump bottom lip with his teeth, and he wanted to see what else he could do that would make her react like that. There was only one way to find out, and he begrudgingly parted from her, kissing the tip of her nose as she blinked dazed eyes and clumsily got in the car.

The beaming grin he wore as they drove home would not fall away until long after they tumbled into bed and passed out. Certainty he was where he was supposed to be soaked into his bones, and all his doubts scattered in the winds under the heat of her touch. He once thought himself cursed, fashioned for a life of hollow, aching numbness that haunted him even in his dreams. Destined never to forge a connection or relationship where he could be himself and reveal the scars of his life free of judgment. He saw now it wasn't true and this was real. Love didn't scream or shout; it didn't make any commotion at all when it appeared. It silently defended, protected, and comforted those it touched. She saw his scars and kissed each one, promising never to add to his collection while he breathed the same promises into her hair before she fell asleep.

It was rare, exquisite, and slightly tarnished after all that had happened, but it threaded them together, and he would treasure it, treasure her. For he knew what a life with no love looked like, and he no longer wanted to be a phantom in his own life. The last five years of his life didn't exist. He wanted to live a life of firsts and lasts with her, mark every moment in a tangible way so they could look back years from now and say, “We were there.” And he started with a selfie of the two of them the next morning. Rumpled hair, pillow marks on their faces, and grins so wide they barely fit the screen of his phone marked their first night together. That photo was how he knew he truly believed he was free. He was very far from the man he'd been when they'd first spoken and glad of it as they danced around her kitchen, making breakfast and planning their day. He was happy. And all at once, it was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! And if you like, comment or reblog, thank you for that too. I hope you enjoyed it. I just love fluff🥰

Part 3: Silver and Gold

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