#i will eventually reblog this with a second one

[cheynovak]

Complicated

Characters: Soldier boy x Y/N Female character     

Summary: Y/N, a young personal assistant to Soldier Boy (Ben) and Crimson Countess, is caught in a whirlwind of events that shatter her sense of stability. After accidentally witnessing an intimate moment between Ben, Crimson, and another woman, she’s left shaken and unsure how to process it. The following day, Crimson casually invites her to join them, which only adds to Y/N's confusion.

Warnings: 18+ mentioning of: threesome, cheating, build up to smut/ spice.

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

part 1/?

Working for superheroes had always been my dream, and landing the personal assistant job for Soldier Boy felt like I had finally made it. At just 23, I was on the inside—right next to the legends. And more than anything, I admired Crimson Countess. I had looked up to her for years: strong, fearless, elegant, everything I wanted to be.

Soldier Boy was, well, intimidating. Ben, as I had been told to call him, was a larger-than-life presence, intense and unpredictable. But Crimson? She was the one who inspired me, and every day, I tried to live up to what I thought she represented.

Tonight was no different from most. It was late, the compound was quiet, and everyone else had left for the night. I was tying up loose ends, some paperwork mostly, when I remembered that Crimson had left a stack of files in her office. I figured I’d drop them off on her desk and head home. I had done it hundreds of times already, just part of the job.

As I walked down the dim hallway, I noticed her office door was cracked open. That was unusual; she was always so careful about her privacy. For a moment, I considered knocking, but it was late, and I assumed she had gone home. I thought I’d slip in, leave the files on her desk, and get out without disturbing anything.

But the second I stepped through the door, my world came crashing down.

Crimson Countess wasn’t alone. She was there, on the couch, barely clothed, on her knees on one side of Soldier boy while some other woman... well, sat... on his... face.

They were tangled together, moving in a way that left no room for interpretation. It was raw, intense—nothing like the polished, controlled way they presented themselves to the world. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene.

My heart hammered in my chest as the reality of what I was seeing sank in. This wasn’t something my in experienced soul thought was possible. This was something darker, something intimate that I was never meant to witness.

Before I could even think to turn and leave, Ben pulled the girl of him, his sharp gaze snapped to mine and smirked, that signature cocky grin spreading across his face, like he found it funny that I had walked in on them.

“Well, look who it is,” he drawled, his voice low and thick with amusement. “Want to join sweetheart?”

My stomach churned. Crimson Countess didn’t seem to notice me, too caught up in the moment with him. His fingers tangled in her hair.

I took a step back, every nerve in my body screaming at me to get out of there. My hands were trembling as I fumbled for the door, trying not to look back, trying not to hear the low chuckle that followed me as I stumbled into the hallway.

“I—uh, I’m sorry,” I stammered, though I wasn’t sure if anyone even heard me.

My feet moved on their own, rushing down the hall, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. I could still feel Ben’s eyes on me, the way he hadn’t even been fazed by my intrusion. He’d looked at me like I was just part of the scenery or something to laugh about later.

The moment I burst outside, the cold night air hit me, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside of me. My hands shook uncontrollably as I pulled out my keys, trying to focus long enough to unlock the car door. I didn’t know how long I stood there, but eventually, I managed to get inside and slam the door behind me.

What had I just seen?

Crimson Countess—Crimson Countess—the woman I looked up to, the one I had admired for so long, wasn’t who I thought she was. And Ben, Soldier Boy, had just acted like it was no big deal, like he didn’t care at all that I just walked in on that.

My mind raced as I drove, barely registering the streets flashing by. The image of them together, so vulgar, was burned into my brain, refusing to leave me alone. They weren’t the heroes I had built up in my head. They were… something else, something I didn’t want to understand.

When I finally got home, I fumbled with the keys to my apartment, my hands still trembling. The door swung open, and I was greeted by the warm light of our living room. My fiancée Kevin was already there, standing by the kitchen counter, looking at me with concern.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft, and the second he saw my face, I could tell he knew something was wrong. “You’re home late. What happened?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out. How could I explain this? How could I even begin to tell him what I had just seen? I was sure my fiancee, respectable man he was wouldn't even understand this. My head was spinning, and all I could feel was the rush of emotions crashing over me—shock, disgust, confusion.

“I—I don’t even know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I set my bag down, my legs weak. I collapsed onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. “It’s… I saw something at work. Something I wasn’t supposed to see.”

He came over and sat beside me, his hand resting gently on my back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, the memory still too raw, too sharp. I couldn’t even process it myself, let alone explain it to him. How was I supposed to tell him that the people I worked for, the heroes we had both admired, weren’t who we thought they were? That Crimson Countess, the woman I’d idolized for years, had just shattered every illusion I’d ever had about her?

“I just… need a minute,” I said softly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

He didn’t press. He just sat there with me, his presence steady and comforting in the middle of the chaos in my mind.

I closed my eyes, trying to push the images away, but they wouldn’t leave. No matter how much I wanted to forget, I couldn’t. Crimson Countess and Soldier Boy weren’t just flawed—they were something far darker. And now, I wasn’t sure if I could ever look at them the same way again.

--

The next day, I sat at my desk in the office, trying to act as normal as possible, but the memory of what I had seen last night haunted me. My fingers tapped anxiously on the keyboard, eyes glued to the paper, but my mind was miles away. Every time I tried to focus, my thoughts drifted back to Crimson and Ben… and that other side of them I had never imagined.

The Tower bustled around me—colleagues moving through the halls, casual conversation floating in the air. Everything felt normal, but I felt like I was on edge, hyper-aware of every sound, every movement. I kept telling myself that if I just acted like nothing happened, everything would be fine.

But then I heard her familiar voice and my heart dropped.

Crimson Countess.

I didn’t dare look up as she strolled over, her signature confidence radiating from every step. I tried to stay calm, but my fingers froze over the keyboard of the typewriter when I saw her lean on my desk out of the corner of my eye. She wasn’t in her full supe outfit—just casual, but even then, she exuded that effortless power and control that had always made me idolize her.

“Morning, Y/N,” she said lightly, but there was something teasing in her tone.

“Morning,” I managed to reply, keeping my gaze glued to my paper.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just watched the room as a few of our colleagues passed by, her lips curling into a faint smile. I could feel the tension building, and my stomach twisted in knots. I knew something was coming. I just didn’t know what.

Finally, when the coast was clear, she turned her attention fully on me, her voice low and almost conspiratorial.

"Ben told me you saw us last night."

My breath caught in my throat, and I could feel my cheeks flush bright red. It was like my whole body betrayed me, and I cursed myself for it. The heat crept up my neck and into my face as the memory of what I’d walked in on slammed back into my head.

“I—uh—” I stammered, struggling to find words. “I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t supposed to see that. I didn’t mean to—”

Crimson waved off my apology with a casual flick of her hand, like it was nothing. Her expression was calm, her eyes almost amused, as if she found the whole thing mildly entertaining.

“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” she said, leaning in a little closer. “If you want to join next time, you’re welcome to.”

The offer hit me like a freight train. My mouth went dry, and I had no idea how to respond. I could barely believe what she was saying—it was so nonchalant, so easy for her, like inviting someone to dinner instead of, well… that.

My mind went blank, but the first thing I managed to blurt out was, “I’m engaged.”

Crimson’s eyes flickered with amusement before she suddenly threw her head back and laughed, the sound loud and echoing throughout the office. A few heads turned, but no one seemed to think much of it—this was Crimson Countess after all. People expected her to be eccentric.

“Engaged, huh?” she said with a smirk once her laughter subsided. “He’s welcome too.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. I stared at her, completely lost for words. Did she actually mean that? The casual way she said it, as if it was no big deal, made it even harder to wrap my head around.

“I—uh, I—” I stammered, trying to find a way out of this conversation without combusting on the spot.

Crimson just smiled, crossing her arms and leaning back slightly. “No pressure, Y/N. Just let Ben or me know if you’re in or out. It’s all about options.”

Options? I wasn’t even sure how to respond to that. My entire world had flipped upside down in the span of a few seconds, and here she was acting like this was just another casual conversation.

“I… I’ll think about it,” I said quickly, though in my mind I was screaming no, no, no, wanting to escape this situation as fast as possible.

“Good girl,” she said, winking at me before pushing off my desk and walking away, leaving me sitting there in stunned silence.

As soon as she was gone, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. My heart was still racing, my palms clammy against the keyboard. I tried to make sense of what had just happened, but nothing about it made sense. What kind of world had I walked into, where things like this were normal?

And worse, how was I supposed to look her in the eye now? Or Ben? I swallowed hard, staring blankly at the text I just typed. How did I get into this situation?

--

The next day, I was running late for lunch. Most people had already returned to their desks, leaving the cafeteria nearly empty, just a handful of others grabbing a bite before heading back to work. My stomach twisted with anxiety—I still hadn’t fully processed my encounter with Crimson Countess. I barely managed to choke down a few bites of food, my nerves making me feel sick.

I was sitting at the far end of the room, hoping to avoid any more awkward encounters. But just as I thought I was in the clear, the door swung open, and in walked Ben, flanked by the TNT twins. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on me almost immediately. And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he smirked.

My pulse quickened as he started walking over, his strides slow and deliberate, like he enjoyed the effect he was having on me. I quickly looked back down at my half-eaten sandwich, pretending to be too engrossed in my food to notice him. But it was too late.

Ben—Soldier Boy—pulled out the chair beside me and sat down, the weight of his presence making the air feel heavy. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, and I silently prayed he wouldn’t bring up last night. I wasn’t ready for another awkward, twisted conversation.

"So," he began casually, his voice low, "have you spoken to Countess?"

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. She, uh… talked to me earlier.”

He didn’t say anything for a second, just stared at me, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He could sense my nerves, I knew it. My hands felt clammy, and I tried to focus on anything other than how close he was, but his presence was suffocating.

"She tell you how we like to have there sometime?" Ben asked, his tone smooth, like he was discussing the weather.

I nodded again, my throat dry. “Yeah, she… she mentioned it.” I could barely get the words out. Every part of me wanted to shrink away, to disappear, but Ben leaned in closer, closing the already small gap between us.

"I gotta say," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "I wish you’d stayed last night." His lips curled into a smirk as he watched my reaction. I could feel my face turning red, my heart racing uncontrollably.

“I’m engaged,” I blurted out, my voice louder than I intended, desperate to set a boundary. Please, let that be enough.

But it wasn’t. Any other man might’ve taken the hint, backed off, but Ben wasn’t just any other man. He chuckled, a dark, deep sound that sent shivers down my spine.

“Engaged, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "That’s cute, congrats, I'm sure he is eh, taking care of you."

"Oh he is." I answered way too fast. His hand moved over my arm, "So you have... some experience, thats good." I couldn't look at him thinking. Well not much, not at all if experience means what he did the other night... but I had sex before yes.

He must have read my mind "You gotta understand something, sweetheart." He leaned in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. “This is freeing. Learning to love more than just one person. Sharing is caring, right? Besides I might teach you a thing or two your man likes.”

I stared at him in shock, my mind racing, trying to make sense of what he was saying. It wasn’t just about what I had seen or heard. This was something bigger, deeper—he truly believed it, believed in some twisted version of love where boundaries didn’t exist.

My mistake was looking up at him then—really looking at him. I was too close, closer than I had ever been. For a moment, all I saw was the strong, perfect lines of his face, the chiseled jaw, the intensity in those green eyes that made it hard to think straight.

He was beautiful, magnetic, and dangerous all at once. I hated how my body reacted, how my breath caught in my throat as I felt the pull of his presence. "I-I don't think I would... like it." I stammered.

His gaze dropped to my lips, and I swore my heart stopped. My whole body tensed as I realized just how close we were, the air between us heavy with something I didn’t understand.

“You could learn to enjoy it,” he whispered, his voice seductive, filled with a kind of promise that sent a shiver down my spine.

I quickly looked away, my mind screaming at me to get out of this situation, but my body betrayed me, frozen in place, caught between fear, confusion, and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I… I can’t,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile, as if he had all the time in the world. “Think about it, Y/N. Seems like you’ve got a lot to learn, want to keep your soon to be husband happy between the sheets, don't you?” His hand brushed against mine on the table, and the contact sent an electric jolt through me.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All I knew was that I needed to get out of there. Now.

“I should go,” I muttered, pushing my chair back so fast it nearly toppled over. I stood up, my legs shaky, and grabbed my bag. Ben just leaned back in his chair, watching me with that same smug, knowing smile, like he’d already won some kind of game I didn’t even know I was playing.

“Take your time,” he said lazily, his eyes glinting. “We’re not going anywhere.”

I didn’t dare look back as I rushed out of the cafeteria, my mind a mess of confusion, fear, and frustration. How had I ended up here? What kind of world had I gotten myself into, where boundaries didn’t exist, where people like Ben and Crimson Countess played by their own rules?

And most importantly—what the hell was I going to do next?

--

I couldn’t tell Kevin about what happened. He’d flip. The thought of trying to explain everything to him, the look of betrayal and anger that would flash across his face… I just couldn’t handle that right now. It felt like everything in my life was spiraling out of control, and I didn’t have the strength to add another confrontation to the pile.

That day, I rushed home far earlier than usual. I needed stability, something to ground me, and Kevin had always been that for me. I kept telling myself that once I got home, once I saw him, everything would start to feel normal again. He didn’t know about the world I worked in, the twisted games that came with being around supes. With Kevin, things were simple. Normal.

When I reached our apartment door, I noticed something was off before I even stepped inside. The faint glow of candlelight flickered under the door, and I could smell something sweet—champagne? My heart lifted slightly, thinking maybe he had planned a surprise. Maybe Kevin had sensed how off I’d been lately and wanted to make it up to me. The thought of spending a quiet evening together, just the two of us, made my chest ache with hope. This was what I needed.

But the second I opened the door, that hope shattered.

There he was. Kevin, sitting on the couch, cozy and comfortable—but he wasn’t alone. Another woman was with him. Her long legs were draped across his lap, her hand on his chest, and they were kissing. Not just a casual kiss, but something deeper, something intimate. The kind of kiss that said I was no longer part of the equation.

The candlelight, the champagne, the soft music playing in the background… it wasn’t for me. It had never been for me.

I stood frozen in the doorway, my breath caught in my throat, unable to process what I was seeing. My entire body went numb, like my brain was trying to protect me from the full force of what was happening.

My heart broke, a sharp pain slicing through my chest as I watched them—Kevin, the man I was supposed to marry, the man who had promised to love me, sitting there with someone else like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn’t even notice me at first, too caught up in the moment with her. I felt like I was drowning, my mind swirling with disbelief and devastation. I wanted to scream, to yell, to make sense of it, but all I could do was stand there, staring at the wreckage of everything I thought I knew.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled back from her, and that’s when he saw me. His eyes widened in shock, and for a second, we just stood there, the silence between us deafening.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice laced with guilt, panic flashing across his face as he shoved the woman off his lap. She scrambled awkwardly, clearly not expecting to be caught.

“I—uh—it’s not what it looks like,” he stammered, but the words felt hollow, meaningless. It was exactly what it looked like.

My voice cracked as I finally managed to speak. “How could you…?”

He stood up, his hands out in front of him like he was trying to calm me down, like I was overreacting. “Just listen—”

But I didn’t want to listen. Not to him. Not now. Everything inside me was breaking, crumbling, and the anger, the betrayal, it hit me all at once, crashing into me like a tidal wave.

“How could you?!” I shouted, my voice trembling with hurt. “You’re… you’re... How Kevin! We were supposed to—” I choked on the words, unable to finish the sentence. We were supposed to get married. To be together.

His eyes softened for a moment, and I could see the guilt settling in. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t—"

“Don’t,” I snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t mean for this to happen. You did.” My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my entire body shaking. “You planned this. You set this up.”

His silence said it all. The candles, the champagne, the soft music—it was all for her. Not for me. Never for me.

The woman stood there awkwardly, looking between the two of us, clearly uncomfortable but not nearly as sorry as she should have been. I felt sick to my stomach.

I turned and bolted out the door, not caring where I was going, not caring about anything other than the fact that my life, my world, had just been ripped apart in the span of a few short hours.

--

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[seventeenreasonswhy]

Super Shy ~ A JWW School-Life Romance Pt. 3

Star Athlete!Wonwoo x Shy Wallflower!Reader

Jeon Wonwoo... THE Jeon Wonwoo is... paying attention to you!?

~1.5k words

Read Part 1 + Part 2

Series content: fluff, first crush plot line, school-life anime vibes, slow burn/yearning, some light angst, classmates to friends to lovers, fem reader, reader is ~*super shy*~ and has low self-esteem, reader is kind of bullied (?), sweetie pie Wonwoo, appearances by Choi Hansol and more!, all characters are in high school so no explicit content (but probably kissing eventually).

My Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, and liked this little series so far! This part reveals more about Y/N’s interests and talents, which she’s afraid to share because she is insecure! But not for long with sweet Jeon Wonwoo around. Also she has a fictional younger sister named Daehee (not after anyone in particular, I just like that name). 😉 These two are so innocent and cute, I’m having such fun writing them! Enjoy!!

Taglist: @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @lukeys-giggle @cookiearmy @sojuxxi  @vixensss @lixisoul99 @mjpark15 @lelsforlino  @neivivenaj  @blvkkeddcc (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

“Whoa you’re going all out on that, Y/N—”

Your younger sister, Daehee, had come down for breakfast with her bangs still in curlers, wearing her school uniform shirt over her Hello Kitty pajama pants. She was watching you as you concentrated on preparing various dishes at the stove. A thin omelet, grilled shishito peppers, vegetable tempura; it was pretty simple stuff, but you’d developed an urge to create aesthetically pleasing lunches these days.

You couldn’t really explain it, although somewhere in your heart you knew it probably had something to do with Jeon Wonwoo.

For the past week, Jean Wonwoo had been spending lunch on the roof alone with you.

The two of you barely exchanged words, really. Your longest conversation probably lasted only a few minutes. But not for Wonwoo’s lack of trying! You still wondered why he was spending his lunchtime up there at all—even more so why would he keep trying to strike up conversations with you? You guessed he really was just that nice. But every time you were around him you couldn’t help clamming up somehow.

“Are you in any clubs, Y/N?” he’d asked you the other day, between bites of his kimbap.

“Uh, no...” you answered quietly, your nerves frazzled from your total lack of conversational skills.

“None of them appeal to you?”

“Uh, not really that...” you didn’t know how to answer him. You’d ended up just looking at him blankly, like a fool. However, nothing in his facial expression or his tone made you feel like you had to necessarily come up with an answer... But his gaze was intent, and you found it hard to hold onto for more than about three seconds.

“What do you do for fun? To relax?” he followed up breezily, “You’re the class mystery.”

“Um,” the odd self-consciousness you felt at being called ‘the class mystery’ aside, you couldn’t really think of anything to say to him.

Actually, there was one thing that came to mind... but it wasn’t something you’d ever shared with anyone. Your one ‘hobby.’ Though to you it felt more like... squeezing a stress ball. It was what you did when you needed to turn your brain off.

He wants to know what I do to relax?

You couldn’t say what compelled you, but you pulled out your phone and found the photo album you had saved of your miniature paintings.

You worked with acrylic paint on very small canvasses, using very fine, small brushes to create miniature floral designs, portraits, landscapes... Your style was incredibly detailed. You had hundreds of tiny canvasses in little boxes and frames all over your room. You took pictures of most of these tiny paintings when you finished. You had even recorded a couple of time-lapse videos, showing you creating them in fast motion. You’d never felt compelled to create a social media account to display or monetize them, though. You painted because it was what you had done since you were a preteen—the careful, methodical process of dabbing tiny paintbrushes into your carefully mixed colors, getting the tone and shading of a poppy flower’s petal on a tiny scale just right... For you, creating these paintings was like a meditative practice.

By some stroke of inspiration—or insanity—you handed your phone to Wonwoo. His face became visibly more curious as he took your phone carefully in his hands.

“Wowwww,” Wonwoo said, holding the screen closer to his face. He seemed absorbed in your phone—you even caught him zoom in on a few pictures. You could tell he was looking carefully through the album.

“You’re crazy talented!” he said after a while. He sounded genuinely impressed.

“No, haha,” you somehow laughed, coughed, and gasped at the same time, your heart accelerating out of embarrassment from his compliment.

“No, seriously—Y/N, these are really incredible!” he said. “They’re so detailed, and they’re so small! How do you even do that!?” His eyes were glued to your phone screen. A part of you was screaming inside, why on earth you would show these to him!? and urging you to snatch your phone right out of his hand, throw it over the side of the building even. You couldn’t believe that Wonwoo was seeing this, this... habit. And YOU had been the one to show him, of all things!

“I wouldn’t say they’re ‘incredible,’” you said, filling up with more and more anxiety over coming off as bragging or crossing some social boundary that you shouldn’t have crossed.

Wonwoo finally looked up from the screen, looking directly at you instead. You still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you felt his eyes on you. After a long pause, you dared to glance up at him...

But he quickly looked away from you.

Ugh, I’m probably making him feel like he has to be super nice or something...

“Oh, whoa—a time-lapse?” He said, quickly recovering from the somewhat awkward moment when your eyes had met. But his stumbling across the most recent time-lapse video that you’d made prompted you to snap out of your reverie and bolt to grab your phone out of Wonwoo’s hands.

“Ah, don’t watch that!” you lunged for your phone, but Wonwoo reflexively pulled his hand away, surprised by your reaction but still effortlessly dodging your attempt. He smirked down at you, and your heart almost stopped.

“Why not?” he said, and the deep resonance of his voice made you realize how close your bodies were—you were practically sprawled over him after reaching for your phone, his face just inches from yours...

Your whole body seemed to flush a deep shade of red before you catapulted backward away from him. You could have sworn that you saw that Wonwoo smiling to himself, but you were so flustered and anxious about the way you’d completely invaded his personal space that you couldn’t think straight.

“I won’t watch it,” he said light-heartedly, smiling at you as he tossed your phone back to you. “But you are super talented, Y/N. Painting is such a unique skill, too.”

And just like that, he went back to eating his kimbap like nothing had happened. His relaxed, friendly tone mercifully neutralized the atmosphere, but you just stood there clutching your phone to your chest.

“It’s not that I’m embarrassed,” you started, even though you couldn’t look Wonwoo in the eye, “It’s just—I’ve never shared these paintings with anyone except my family...” Your heart kind of ached for some reason as you said this to Wonwoo, who just continued to look at you in silence. What on earth had compelled you to share that with him?

Agh, say something! You willed for this pause in conversation pass, but it didn’t seem to be budging.

“Thank you for showing me,” Wonwoo said at last. His low, gentle voice seemed to shoot directly into your bloodstream, flushing you an even deeper shade of red than you thought was humanly possible. You looked at him briefly, and something about the way he was looking back at you...  

The moment had played over and over again like a movie in your head for the past few days. The directness of his gaze. The rich, sincere quality of his voice. The way he’d smiled to himself... you couldn’t stop thinking of that particular lunch hour.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Daehee watched you dip veggies in tempura batter and toss them in the pot of hot oil on the stove. You let your mind run through the questions it had been asking all week: why was he spending time with you like this? Did he lose a bet? Is there some kind of hidden camera prank you should be wary of? More than that, why was he being so nice?

“Hellooo, earth to Y/N! I said you’re really going to town on your lunches these days,” Daehee tried again to get a rise out of you.

“Oh,” you said, taking the last piece of tempura squash out of the oil. “I just like experimenting.” You weren’t lying, exactly—you did like exploring all kinds of different food and dishes. Cooking was fun to you, different from the calm of painting.

You would be lying if you said that an added bonus wasn’t Wonwoo noticing and complimenting your work.

You liked it when he praised you. It felt like he meant it.

No one could be that good at faking sincerity, could they?

You couldn’t help but hear that small voice in the back of your head, doubting Wonwoo’s intentions.

But he hadn’t done anything other than come up to the roof during lunch this week, mostly just eating in silence with you—the two of you simply looking out at the sky...

But after you had shown him your paintings...

Maybe it was since then that you had started to put more effort into your lunches.

[shootingstarpilot]

☔️☔️

For the WIP ask game 😊

ask game

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

god bless you, anon <3

so. the first one i have in mind is a time-travel au- an as of yet undetermined amount of time after order 66 goes through, the clones wake up back on kamino- just in time to see obi-wan turning away from the overlooking window.

obviously, mass chaos ensues. cody manages to wrangle most of ghost together, and they immediately go hunting for their jedi. all the way there, they're trying to figure what to say- he won't know them, he has no reason to trust him, and they'd shot him down- they can't not go looking for him, but what are they supposed to say-?

except then it all becomes a moot point, because they round the corner and hear the distinctive hiss-snap of a lightsaber, and obi-wan's voice, cold as ice-

"you are going to tell me everything you know about the chips, prime minister, and you are going to tell me now."

yeah. he got sent back too.

cody and co burst in, obi-wan whips around to face them, and for a moment he looks absolutely shattered before he wipes his expression clean and says, "co- commander. i can explain-"

and cody's voice cracks when he says, "obi-wan-"

and that's when obi-wan realizes.

anyway. of course there are hugs. and maybe smooches.

but i have a secret motivation for this. yes, i am fucking around with my own ocs' timelines here. but i don't care, because i have an Image in my head and it will not go away:

when everything goes down, helix takes half a second to reorient himself and immediately establishes his priorities. he can hear cody shouting, makes a note of it, but there's something higher on his list-

well. two somethings.

he goes for stitch first.

he finds him in the barracks. they're mostly empty, by now, but helix knows stitch and knows his instinct to retreat into small spaces and knows the way his head fills up with so much noise sometimes that it makes it impossible for him to do anything else, and if anything would be Noisy it would be this-

he screams stitch's name when he hits the cadet barracks- screams again, no response, but something is pushing him onwards, down the endless rows of bunks, and then he sees a tiny lump huddled under a blanket-

and he knows.

the relief nearly throttles him. he hears a tiny little sniffle and sits down on the edge of the bed, puts a hand on what he guesses to be a shoulder, and the lump stops breathing-

the blanket shifts. a head pops up.

my point. my point is. give me helix hugging actual tiny toddler stitch or give me death.

so. they find each other. they're missing their third.

needle's not in the barracks. he's not in the mess. he's not in any of the winding, endless hallways. he's not, when they meet up, with cody and company.

then stitch goes very still.

"what's the date?"

helix tells him. stitch goes white.

"we have to run," he says. "we have to run now."

stitch is right.

helix hits the hallway leading to the decomm rooms just in time to see the doors slide open and a bloody-nosed needle comes staggering out with a blaster held loosely in one hand. helix sees behind him, through the door, on the floor- the unmoving bodies of two longnecks.

needle's cloudy gaze focuses on them.

"it was gonna be me," he croaks. "couldn't let them wipe me."

stitch shrieks needle's name from where he's propped on helix's hip, and helix lunges forward just in time to catch him when his knees buckle.

there's a whole lot of information slotting into place all at once, and helix carefully sets aside the horror of it and holds onto needle (if he's even still? yet? their needle-) and tries to figure out-

then he feels the huff of a ragged laugh against his shoulder, and knows.

"actual baby," needle murmurs. the hug is returned at last- the two of them, clinging to each other, with stitch sandwiched between them- "can't tell me you're not a baby anymore. tiny baby."

stitch hiccups. "needle?"

"my baby," needle says, and helix can hear the smile in his voice.

stitch bursts into tears.

they do, eventually, go find the others. there are more hugs, unneeded apologies, even more hugs-

and, soon enough, plans.

palpatine won't know what hit him.

i don't think i'm organized enough to actually write this- to stick with the canon timeline, i mean- but the playground is fun as FUCK.

(anakin gets arrested as soon as he returns from tatooine, too. fuck him.)

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.�� She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

[jaylver]

BREAK THE ICE — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss?

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst

WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), mentions of drinking, alcohol and partying, slight miscommunications, lots of overthinking

WC: 25k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: coming back w another cheesy hockey romance hehehe, here's a spin-off of jake's part in no competition that has a little bit of elements from each part! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

part 3.5 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

© jaylver 2024 all rights reserved.

You weren't expecting your first landed punch to happen on a random Friday night. 

The club was packed with people, overly stuffed to the brim that it eventually became sauna level hot. It didn't help that you had to squeeze past the crowd either, trying to keep your balance and not topple over your own two feet was a hard challenge. Which one of your friends said that it would be a fun idea having a birthday party in a popular club? Now, you've got to face the repercussions of their impulsive planning. 

It was also common knowledge that the club was one of the unsafest places to be, so when you felt someone grab your hand from behind in the midst of you squeezing through the crowd, tugging you and causing you to stumble, your first reaction wasn't exactly friendly.

Maybe it was both a rash decision and reaction, but you turned around, the hand no longer on you to even determine who had held onto you, then proceeded to throw a quick punch at the guy you're facing. You didn't even know if he was the actual one that did so, the amount of anger and rage that coursed through your veins had spurred you on to thrust your fist forward before a second thought. Judging from the guy's reaction, he was not the one, and it only clicked once he held his nose in pain.

"What the hell?" His yell above the music was audible to distinguish the confusion and annoyance in his voice. "Are you crazy?"

In the dimness of the club and the hat on his head, you couldn't fully tell who he was, or if he was bleeding from the punch to his nose, but you do know for sure that he was angry. The hat that he wore had the letter 'J' on it, and it was tilted upwards from the impact. He fixed it as immediately as you had noticed it. 

"I'm so sorry," you were panicking, trying to meet his eyes that were basically impossible to make out in the darkness and the cover of his hat. How were you going to pull your infamous puppy pleading eyes to get yourself out of trouble? "Look, I felt someone grabbing me from behind, and you were … behind me, so I turned around and punched you thinking you were the one who pulled me," 

He could tell you were panicking, though your reason was quite reasonable, he was also rightfully mad at you. The guy before you took a minute before responding, most likely figuring out what to say next. "It wasn't me who grabbed you, it was probably some guy in between us that fled away once you turned around. I can understand your reaction but please don't punch people as your first instinct,"

You winced, mostly in embarrassment. "I know, I'm sorry, really. You're not hurt, right?"

"It's just a punch, I'm not bleeding.  I've gotten worse, don't worry," he waved you off, the tension in the stuffy club air was lifted. You couldn't tell if he was actually being serious or just trying to make it situation less serious, either way he was convincing to say the least. However, it was hard not to feel the aftermath of guilt for punching someone accidentally.

"I can get you drinks—"

"Nah, it's fine, really. Go buy a drink for yourself instead," he cut you off, waving his hand once again in dismissal. "I'm just glad you're safe. Even though I got a punch out of it,"

He might've laughed, but you could only let out a small chuckle, still embarrassed. It was amazing how the man was able to recover himself this quickly. "Thanks for not pressing charges or anything. Have a good night,"

"You too, sweets." 

Him leaving right after calling you that was not nice at all. You found yourself stunned and replaying the moment. You just punched a guy, he was actually nice to you instead of being mad, and he called you 'sweets'? You might have just fallen in love. 

Breathing out a sigh of mixed astonishment and relief, you regained your composure and continued your way out of the crowd. You've never been so glad to find the booth your friends were at, the panic did take a toll on you and all you needed was a shot. 

Wonyoung was the first to approach you, her arms outstretched to pull you into a brief hug. "Hey! What took you so long?"

"Punched a guy. Don't ask."

She made a face at what you said, but decided not to question it either. "Okay? Was he cute though?"

"He was…I think?"

This wasn't how you imagined your first hockey game to turn out.

Thanks to your best friend, Anton's constant convincing and overly exaggerated praises for the school's hockey team, you were eventually dragged to one of their games against a big rival of another college. With the way he was explaining the rules and the rivalry, you were surprised at how the swimmer was an actual big fan of the sport. Even as you sat in the stands, successfully turning up to the game, he could, however, still sense your doubt.

"You're going to enjoy this one," he nudged your side, sounding confident till the point where it had you convinced for a second. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. "Would I?"��

"Come on! Don't be a hater. I'm trying to welcome you to the world of sports," 

"I just don't get the hype of watching a bunch of men skating around with sticks and chasing after a puck," you huffed, standing your ground. Anton should be lucky you tolerated swimming enough to watch all his tournaments. "It's like football but on ice,"

"Either way, at least you'll still get to see some hot guys," he gave a small shrug, seeing your face morphing into that 'you have a point' type of look. Maybe that part had you convinced, even if it was the slightest.

You didn't need Anton to specifically point out which player was cute either, your eyes were already straying to them warming up on the ice. Although you were seated far up, you were able to tell from the glimpses on the jumbotron that number seven, 'JAEHYUN MYUNG', was a total cutie. 

"Time to turn up to every game for number seven," you murmured quietly to Anton, watching him roll his eyes in response. But apparently, it wasn't whispered with enough silence. 

A cough coming from beside you  immediately made your smile drop, an awkward smile made its way to your face to try to diffuse the momentary embarrassment. You turned to glance at the stranger slightly. The hat he had on shielded most of his face, especially when he was staring down on his phone, it only made it harder to make out his identity. Has he been listening all along?

Wait. That hat. 

The same hat with the letter 'J' sat on the stranger's head. The one that was on the man you encountered (punched) the night before. Could it be …?

You didn't think much of the guy next to you, not when he was busy with his phone and hiding his face away from you to figure out anyway. Once the game started, your attention had been averted to the ice and all of the moving figures on it. The roaring crowd left you in awe, it seemed the players, too, were basking in the limelight and trying their very best in scoring. 

The first two periods had raised the tension in the arena. You, and everyone, including Anton and the guy next to you, had jumped out of your seats too many times. The stranger was the most passionate amongst the bunch in your area. Shouting tactics and cursing at every missed chance, he might as well be the coach. 

The nearly scored goals were too much to handle. You got the adrenaline of watching the team play against their rivals with such ferocity, joining the crowd in every 'ooo' or 'ahhh'. Soon enough, you finally understood the passionate love Anton had for the sport. 

"See? Hockey is fun," Anton sat back down after the second period was over and the short break commenced, the scoreboard displaying the current leading scores of the home team.

"Yeah, yeah, I take it back," you waved him off dismissively, hating his shit-eating grin that screamed 'told you so'. You turned away from him to avoid that exact expression, gaze drifted up towards the jumbotron instead, spotting an interesting sight. "Hockey games have this?" You pointed up at the screen.

'KISS CAM' 

Written in bold pink, cursive font, it was almost like a slap to your face. Look, you've seen this everywhere online, those clips of people being on kiss cams, but to think you're going to be witnessing it in flesh, that's new. You weren't going to be the victim of it … right?

"Oh, the kiss cam? It's a frequent thing they have here. It started off as some charity thing but people loved it so they made it permanent," 

"I can see why they love it," you mumbled, watching the screen panning to a pair that was caught off guard, the rest of the crowds cheering for them once they shared a kiss. 

One thing about paranoia was that it's either just a bugging anxiety or a premonition that your gut had. For you in that present situation, it was the latter. Your paranoia foreshadowed your biggest nightmare.

Your conversation with Anton in that moment had distracted you completely from whatever that was happening. That was until you heard the crowd cheering and saw Anton's widening pupils, you soon realised something was up, something not good. 

The camera of that kiss cam had its focus on you, but unlike what you predicted, it wasn't you and your best friend that occupied the screen, it was you and the stranger next to you. Speaking of him, he was staring directly at you, the hat was tilted back a little more to reveal his face. The shock of the kiss cam couldn't amount to the shock you had when the man's identity was revealed. It was him. The guy you punched.

The darkness of the club had hid the beauty of his face, the hat itself was shielding you away from the entirety of it. No matter what, you could still tell he was attractive, very attractive. That alone caused your anxiety to increase ten fold. The minor bruise beside his eye was questionable, but the bruise on his nose was easily recognised. 

The matching shock in his eyes slipped away, an amused smirk replaced that initial surprise. "It's you again. Not punching me again, eh?"

"Stop staring and kiss already!" A voice yelled out from the crowd before you could respond, followed by a chorus of agreements. 

You hate people.

"Are you okay with me kissing you?" The smooth, yet unexpected accent that rolled off his tongue caught you off guard, it was something you just registered despite the multiple times he spoke to you, but you nodded nonetheless. As he leaned in closer, the features on his face magnified, becoming clearer. His eyes were a shade of muddy brown, plump lips pulled into a slight frown and thick eyebrows furrowed. The last thing you expected from him was his hand making contact with your face, the smoothness of his palm cupping your cheek, everything was happening in slow motion. "I need your words, sweets,"

"Kiss me," 

That was all the stranger needed to hear to pull you into the kiss. The softness of his lips melted on yours, moulding it to fit against yours. It was just like a scene brought alive from the movies. The cheers from the crowd was deafening, but the sound of it soon tuned out. 

It lasted almost a few more seconds longer before the stranger pulled away, the look of bewilderment evident in his eyes. You were stunned, and so was he. Thankfully, the kiss cam was no longer on you two, instead finding another pair to target. By then, you were still trying to compose yourself. He broke into a smile, one that was so sweet it actually made your heart skip.

"Wow," he breathed out, scratching the back of his neck out of embarrassment. 

"Wow," you echoed, falling back onto your seat, feeling a set of watchful eyes from your best friend, who you knew was probably holding in a laugh on your right.

The last period of the game concluded a win for the home team. Everyone was left in high spirits. You, in particular, were feeling the same way but due to different reasons. Before you could utter another word to the guy you kissed, he was already making his way out of the stand and left no traces behind for you to follow. Was he cinderella? Well, there goes your potential soulmate. No, you were being delusional.

It was rather embarrassing to admit that you were actually disappointed. Not mildly, but by a lot. Considering the past encounter you had, you expected the guy to initiate some sort of conversation, yet he fled without trying. He didn't owe you anything, but the small hope you had internally was, undoubtedly, crushed. 

 "You're telling me now you're sad because of some guy?" Anton snorted loudly into the night as he walked you back to the dorms. Obviously, he started off by laughing at you, then asking for everything as if he wasn't making fun of you in the first place. 

"He's not just some guy," you grumbled. "He's cute and a good kisser,"

"So you just want to kiss him again?" 

"Hey!" You landed a firm slap on Anton's shoulder, earning a loud yelp from him. "I mean, a little but I just wanted to know who he was. He's that guy I met at the club,"

"Oh really?" That piqued Anton's interest, his eyebrows flying high, lips then turning into a flat line. "I guess that's the beauty of kiss cams. Kiss a stranger, or in your case, kiss and punch a stranger and live with that memory forever," he shrugged, pursing his lips thoughtfully. 

"You're horrible,"

Your grumble only pulled a snort from him. "Plus, I thought I could help identify him but the way he wore his hat basically hid his face, how am I supposed to tell who he was?" 

"I can," you pulled a doubtful frown, wondering if you even remembered his face entirely, speaking of which seemed a little hazy in your memory. It was the shock that made everything a mush, you blamed it on the anxiety and panic. "I think,"

"You think?" Anton practically snickered at your poor choice of words and the lack of conviction in your tone. You, yourself, were equally unconvinced. "Good luck finding your prince charming, princess."

His shout of laughter was quickly drowned out by your string of thoughts. You genuinely needed that luck, because how were you going to find him again in the sea of students that roamed the campus? You could almost feel the ghost of his lips on you, and you swear you're not just ovulating. 

Good luck in finding him, indeed.

Turning up to the next game wasn't because of player number seven that initially caught your eyes, nope, not at all. Pathetically so, you were actually hoping to bump into the guy you kissed. Call it fate or something your delusional mind would end up concluding. 

Anton managed to bag you and him front row seats, meaning a closer look at the players and a nearer distance to the rink. How did your best friend successfully pull tickets out of his ass? You had no idea but you're not complaining either. 

"Don't tell me you're looking around for the guy," Anton caught you in the midst glancing around the area, a rather desperate glint in your pupils giving it away. 

"I'm … not," you said unconvincingly, flashing an innocent smile at a doubtful looking Anton. 

"Sure you're not," he mumbled, crossing his arms. "How can you even recognise him? Okay, what if he doesn't have his hat on and he's bald, then what?"

"I know for a fact that he's not bald, thank you, there were hair strands peeking out under his hat,"

"Hair cap, it's on Amazon,"

"Please shut up."

The topic of your mystery man eventually dissolved into debates of the oncoming hockey game that was about to start in a while. If you told your past self that you'd be turning into a hockey fan, you'd probably laugh out loud. But, there you were, character development going great. 

There was still a handful of time before the warm up, so you took the opportunity to slip away and out of the stands to locate the restroom. You passed some familiar faces, course mates or mutual friends, but none of which were the guy you were searching for.

Being a new fan came with a disadvantage: not knowing the place well enough to tell which way led to the restrooms. You walked down the corridor, passing the food stalls and countless students, looking like an absolute fool. 

By the time you finally located one from a distance, you were stopped by a voice coming from behind. All it took was a tap on the shoulder for you to turn your head, quick enough for a momentary whiplash upon meeting the person's eyes. 

"Hey,"

It was a man dressed in a formal suit, a backpack hung on his shoulders. He was tall and lean, but muscular enough to have an athlete's build. He could almost fit the hockey players there. But there was something about him to you that seemed familiar, yet you couldn't put an identity to the face. 

"Hi. Do I … know you?" You said, uncertain, though you knew you shouldn't be. 

The man before you cracked a small smile, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. He shook his head, probably in disbelief, but there was also a mix of amusement. "No, not quite … yet, but you do know how I kiss, and I know how you punch, so that makes us something, right?" 

Pause. It clicked. The hat wasn't there on his head, and he was not bald. That proved Anton something, but he had made a point that you had to admit was right. You forgot how the man that kissed you looked like. 

Hat guy. Kiss cam guy? Wait, first punch guy—

"Wait, you're—"

"See you," he let out a laugh, shooting you a wink, purposefully not giving you the chance to fully realise his true identity. Annoying asshole. Just as fast as he had appeared, he was gone with the wind. The initial shock only bloomed bigger, going through several stages of it. The times you prayed for his appearance led up to this moment just for it to pass by quicker than expected, rather underwhelmingly you must add. You didn't even manage to get his name!

Begrudgingly, you made your way back to your seat after the long journey to the restroom. Luckily, the warm up hasn't started and you got to mull in your own disappointment for the time being. The smell of fresh popcorn and corn dogs only made you sink into your seat further.

"Got something flushed down the toilet? Why do you look so sad?" Anton caught onto the frown you had displayed absentmindedly. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"The one that got away,"

"Katy Perry?"

"No. The guy, my guy, I saw him just now and he said 'hi' but left after saying that, what's he in a rush for?" Your questions didn't have a concrete answer to them, but Anton sure knew how to provide some bullshit answers.

"To get away from you, maybe," 

"I'm giving everything in me to not stand up and strangle you right now."

The players of both teams were soon filing out onto the rink for warm ups. The players of the home team were easily recognisable to you after that first memorable game. There was number seven, the captain, the ace, all of which were standing out to you amongst the rest. However, an additional number five that you didn't see prior was standing with the team. His back was facing towards you, the number five sitting comfortably on his back under 'JAEYUN SIM', presumably his name. 

"Who's that? Number five. Didn't see him last game," you pointed out to the frequent game goer, Anton, who pursed his lips, nodding slightly.

"That's Jake Sim. Defender. He got suspended for the last game since he committed a foul during the game before the last one. It was quite a scene,"  

The players were skating around the rink, moving the puck as they went, shooting goals into the nets as practice. Given the clear view of everything before you, you got the chance to put your focus on player number five, Jake. The speed he was going kept you away from seeing his face, the headgear was only an additional deterrent.

Your curiosity only heightened everytime he passed, the urge to stand and knock against the glass, but that would just get you into the blacklist without doubt. The focus you kept on him was insanely intense, you wondered if he could feel you staring considering the next time he passed your section, turned his head, making a second worth of eye contact with you before skating off.

That split second had the gears in your head running. His eyes were familiar, not to mention, that face … It was him. The one that got away. And he was on the ice? As a player?

Everything made sense now. He was suspended last game which totally explained why he was sitting next to you, and that led him to kiss you and you realised he was also the same person you punched. All in one go.

By the time warm ups ended and the match was about to begin, you were able to finally swallow everything you just processed. The look on your face paired with your anxious finger taps against your lap caught Anton's attention.

"You're finally getting the pre match hockey fan anxiety, huh?" He nudged your side, startling you a little from your train of thoughts.

"No," you breathed out, eyes still trained on the rink that players were currently filing out on. Anton raised his eyebrows at you. "I found out who my guy is,"

"What?" Anton snapped his head to fully look at you now, widened eyes scanning your shock ridden features. "Who is he? Is he some guy that shares the same class as you?"

"He's the one skating on the ice right now—over there," you nodded towards the rink where players were taking their positions. Anton's eyebrows only furrowed at your lack of sufficient information.

"You're fucking kidding. Which one?"

"Jake Sim, it seems," your eyes strayed to the defender that wore the number five, upon the whistle blow, he skated off and you were left wondering. "See? He's not bald,"

"Not the point," Anton snorted, sounding nearly amused and astonished. "You punched him and kissed him all in two days? That's genuinely a meet cute,"

"You're insane. If anything, I'm just hoping he's not filing a restraining order against me,"

"Dude, he willingly kissed you and went up to you just now. I don't think that man wants a restraining order, maybe something more," he started wiggling his eyebrows, smirking playfully at you. You wanted to wipe that look off of his face. 

"Dream big, Anton, dream big."

Dreaming big was definitely what the team did in order to secure another win. Jake Sim had thankfully kept his fouling records free so far, and from what Anton mentioned, it seemed Jake has a knick for getting into fights on ice while being the opposite off ice. A man with a stark duality does sound interesting.

The team lingered on the ice after the win, making rounds to bask in the victory and greet the crowds in exchange for their endless support. You watched as the captain approached your side, calling out for Anton and waving at him.

"You know him?"

"How'd you think I got my front row tickets? We're literally party bros," he shrugged nonchalantly while your mouth dropped at the fact that he left you such crucial information. "Which means, I can set you up more easily with your man and we're also getting free booze at the after party,"

"There's an after party?"

"There's always an after party,"

The unexpected part of the night after several surprises along the way was Jake skating towards your side of the crowd, just as Heeseung did. You thought he was doing the same as his captain by greeting everyone, but you knew it wasn't exactly that when he pointed at you, eyes trained on you specifically. It was one of those moments where you looked around and went 'me?' rather embarrassingly. Your genuine confusion made him laugh and he beckoned you to come close to the glass that separated you from him. 

You obeyed, casting Anton a reluctant glance, but upon seeing his excited expression, you knew he was egging you on. It was weird, seeing Jake up close this time knowing who he was, unlike the previous encounters, this was definitely a lesser odd one.

'Catch' he mouthed multiple times until it clicked for you, the puck in his hand telling you to watch out. He threw it over the glass and lucky you, your catch was as good as his throw. Jake didn't say much, all he did was point at the puck that was in your possession, smiling sweetly before waving you goodbye and skating away to join the team.

You glanced down at the puck, pupils blown at the sight before you. It wasn't just a puck, it was one that had his number written on it in white marker ink, writings all messy but still readable. 'Text me -Jake :)' was what he signed off with, the lopsided smiley face got a snicker out of you.

"Look who's a true fan now, getting a puck and all," Anton got up to join your side as the crowd started dispersing now that the game was over. 

"I didn't just get a puck alone, I also got one step closer to him," you waved the puck in front of Anton's face, grinning pridefully. 

"I guess Cinderella's about to accomplish her search for her lost lover prince charming."

Anton truly had a way with his words by convincing you to go to the after party with him, claiming you'd reconnect with Jake and somehow a spark would happen between you two, whatever rant his delusional self came up with. To your dismay, you actually believed him. Not that it wasn't completely untrue since the hockey team would always turn up, but to approach him with everyone around when he's literally a known figure? You might need a couple of shots beforehand first.

You eventually saw Jake and the bunch of hockey players file into the room as the hollers and cheers got louder for them. Pressing yourself closer to the wall, suddenly intimidated by the strong concentration of testosterone filling the room. The constant thoughts of finding the guy you kissed and punched didn't prepare you to legitimately talk to him instead of just daydreaming about him.

As if on command, you attracted the player's attention like a moth to the flame. Anton had disappeared off to somewhere, you were left alone in a corner minding your business and playing tetris on your phone when you felt a presence behind you. 

"Boo," The presence confirmed itself and you turned around, too fast till the point where you gave yourself a whiplash, in complete disbelief at the thought of him being there. 

"Hey," you breathed out, resisting the urge to back into the wall behind you. This was not the time to start being nervous around a man.

"You didn't forget me this time, right?" Amusement flashed across his face at the mention of your blunder from earlier. You knew it was something he wasn't going to let go easily. 

"Of course not,"

"Well good. I'm Jake, Jake Sim. Engineering major and a part time hockey player," he extended his hand out, waiting for you to accept, which you did, casting him a small smile.

"Impressive. What are you? Spiderman? Living with two identities?" You joked, his confidence absolutely taking you aback. "I'm Y/N L/N, nursing major,"

"Let me guess, you minor in punching?"

You scoffed, but laughed. "How did know? I suppose yours is kissing strangers that punch you!" 

He snorted, shaking his head, the banter between you and him flowing ever so naturally. It was almost as if you two had been friends since the beginning. "I'm just playing. I'm glad to see you again, I'm sorry I didn't stay back after the game that night. I guess adrenaline got to me and I raced away to find the boys only to realised what a dumbass I was to not ask for your number,"

It was hard trying to hide your shock that he was apologizing. You didn't even expect an apology from it, let alone prepare for it. Yet, the explanation from him set your worries and overthinking to rest. "It's alright, you didn't owe me anything. I'm glad to see you again too. Congrats on the win," you were more than just glad.

A smile made its way to his lips at your words, to him it was hard resisting against a smile when it came to you. He barely knew you, yet you had a charm to you that he was not immune to. "I hope that puck was a good move,"

"It was smooth, definitely caught me off guard but it worked on me," 

Relief was evident on Jake's face, but he played it off coolly. "It didn't strike me that you're a hockey fan,"

"Well, I'm not exactly one, but my friend is and he's the reason why I'm there,"

"Who's your friend?"

"Anton,"

"Anton?" Jake repeated his name, visibly surprised. "He's your friend?"

"You know him?"

"More than just that. How come we've never met?" 

"I'm just as confused as you are. He was literally next to me that day where we—you know—appeared on the kiss cam,"

"Really? I didn't see him!"

"Well, that's because your hat practically covered half your face, I couldn't fully recognise you too. He didn't know it was you either," you snickered at the mention of his famous hat that was burnt into your memory by now. "I only found out today that he was friends with Heeseung,"

"He's friends with all of us," Jake chuckled, mostly in disbelief. What was Anton doing hiding all his hot, attractive hockey friends? He wasn't just a fan, he was friends with them. "He loves hockey, so when he found out we played for the school team at this random party, he started coming to cheer for us. Sometimes we would watch his swim tournaments too,"

"What?" You gasped, finding it surprising that you had done the same, except never once had an encounter with the group. "I went to a lot of his swim tournaments too!"

It had rendered both you and Jake speechless, the two of you staring at each other with a look of starstruck filled gazes. All this time, had there been an invisible string that tied you two together? The thought was pushed to the back of your mind as you and him laughed after a pause of silence.

"No way!" Jake exclaimed, laughing in between. 

"I'm serious! I don't know how we've never come across one another before," 

"Maybe it wasn't the right time, so fate set us up in a more … unconventional way," Jake said with a hint of playfulness that you caught on. You snorted at the realisation, knowing the incidents were something he was going to hold over your head for a long time.

"It's better than not at all,"

"You're right," he said softly, gaze dropping down to sweep over your body just to come back to meet your eyes once more. "I want to see you more actually, not just at my hockey games or some one time thing. Can I bring you out on a date? What do you say?"

"A date?" You didn't expect Jake to immediately whip out the date card, expecting him to take it slow and build up to a date that you would eventually expect. There was something in you then that invoked a sudden confidence to say such things. "I'm not just some girl you can easily score dates with,"

Jake's lips curled into a small smirk. It was his turn to be surprised and rather amused by you pulling out a surprise attack card, purposely playing hard to get which he caught onto instantly. "What can I do to score a date with you?" He wanted a challenge.

"Show me that you mean it. Earn me," you were gladly setting up something testing for him. "One week. Then I'll decide,"

"You know how to play, L/N," Jake shook his head, but didn't shy away from it either, brazenly taking it on with his head held high. "Just wait, I'll prove it to you. By the end of the week, we're going to be on a date,"

"I'll be waiting for you to swoon me over, Sim."

Jake bit back a smile, ideas already churning in the back of his mind as the both of you moved onto other topics. He was going to win you over, he was sure of it. The first step of breaking the ice had been done, now it was onto getting you, the girl he had unknowingly fallen for after unfortunate encounters that he believed to be fated.

Despite the many difficult games Jake played in or the countless troubles he faced on and off ice, for the first time in ages, he was actually challenged, and he was going to overcome it to make you his. 

"You scored yourself a man?"

Telling both Wonyoung and Anton about Jake at lunch was equally comical and confusing. Anton was the one who knew the whole timeline while Wonyoung needed a lot of catching up, resulting in many back-and-forths in the conversation. In the end, you finally reached the conclusion with both fully caught up. 

"Well, yes but not officially?" You didn't even know how to put it. 

"Y/N wants a yearning man, that's what," Anton snickered, earning a firm slap on the shoulder from you, though you didn't deny.

"You never told me you were friends with Jake too! Or with the whole hockey team," it was your turn to point fingers at Anton, staring accusingly at him.

"Last time I checked you weren't interested in hockey and jocks," he shrugged, which you couldn't deny wasn't entirely wrong. "Plus, I didn't think it was necessary,"

"They're his party friends," Wonyoung added, earning a guilty eye roll from Anton. 

"Okay, pause, they're more than that. They even came to my tournaments, but that's not the point. Look, honestly, they're the last people I'd set you up with," Anton threw his hands up.

"Are they really that bad?" 

"They're not bad, they're good people, just … the single ones tend to have more fuck boy tendencies as cliche as it sounds," Anton clicked his tongue, leaning back into his seat. "You know, when you're hot, single, and a quite known collegiate athlete, girls are going to be chasing after you,"

"Great, now I have to think about him being perceived by other girls," you muttered, supporting your chin on your palm. 

"But he only has his eyes on you now," Wonyoung interjected immediately, trying to salvage the originally sweet and romantic scenarios of Jake. "He wants a date with you and he's going to go out of his way to prove that he deserves it. It shows enough that he's serious about you,"

"Yeah, don't let my words get to you. That's just a general idea people have on them and their romantic lives, but you have a chance to find out the truth," Anton tried his best in mending the cracks of your perception, realising he probably said too much for your own good. "Worst case scenario the date flops, you can just ghost him,"

Wonyoung narrowed her gaze at him. "Shut up, Anton."

The rest of the day consisted of classes that got you away from your friends' constant bickers and distracted you from the thought of Jake. Not to be that overthinking person that you were, but to know how Jake was perceived probably crushed the small idea you created of him. You shouldn't have even created the idea in the first place, but a crush was a crush no matter what, wasn't it?

"What's got you so deep in thought?" 

The owner of that voice which startled you appeared before you as you walked out of the lecture hall, completely in a daze until the man you couldn't keep out of your mind somehow read your ongoing thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, finding yourself standing face-to-face to a smile that radiated the sun's energy. 

"Hello to you, stranger,"

"Stranger? You wound me," he joined your side almost immediately as you picked up your steps again. 

"Hello, Jake," you corrected lightheartedly, resisting a smile once his laughter reached your ears. Is it normal for someone you barely knew to have such an effect on you?

"Hello, Y/N," he greeted back, going along with whatever that's happening. "You're really pretty today,"

You raised an eyebrow at him, though the tightening grip of your hand on your bag strap betrayed your nonchalance. "You say this to other girls?"

"Only to the ones that punch and kiss me, which is none, other than you obviously," 

"Real charming, Sim," you chuckled, nudging his shoulder with yours, eliciting a playful giggle from him. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm walking you back to the dorms," he said nonchalantly in a matter-of-fact manner. 

"Don't you have classes? Wait—how did you even know I was here?" You turned to stare at him, both puzzled and shocked. 

"I had classes, but that doesn't mean I can't free up my time to come find you, no? And don't worry, I've got an insider," he winked, and by that, you knew it could only be Anton that served as his insider.

"You didn't need to, you know?" 

"I do want to though," Jake slid his one hand into his pocket, glancing at you briefly. "You might think I'm just doing this for the sake of earning a date but I honestly just want to see you,"

You blinked, eyes softening at his words. Looking at him was the only reaction you could get out of yourself, not knowing what to do or say. You failed to even realise your heart had skipped a beat. 

He smiled at your reaction, shaking his head slightly. "Don't take me so lightly, sweets," he said rather lightheartedly, but genuinity lied in every letter. You still needed to wrap your mind around the fact that Jake was actively chasing you. 

"You're doing that thing again,"

You snapped out of your thoughts, curiosity flooded your features. "What 'thing'?"

"The thing where you seem to be caught up with your thoughts," Jake had completely read you like a book, way faster than any of your friends had. How? "You know what, let's stop by that bakery first for some sweet treat to clear your mind. How does that sound?"

A sincere, sweet smile spread onto your face, the slightest of nods as a response as you tried to compute a sentence without malfunctioning. "I'd love that." I love you. Too soon, but God, you just had to put that out there somewhere even if it's in your head.

You let Jake whisk you away to the bakery, then back to the dorms where you held onto him until it was ultimately a few seconds too long to be just a casual hug. The momentary silence after was filled with your quiet smiles, followed by hushed goodbyes that trailed past your door, leaving you in a lump of mush whose heart was beating too quick for your own good. 

Was this how liking someone felt? Well, it was something to be discovered as you failed to come to terms with it just yet.

Somehow, Jake knowing your class schedule and coming to your lecture hall at the end of each day became something you didn't question eventually. The shyness from both sides melted with every encounter, soon the space between you and him seemed to become smaller, and your bag would be on his shoulder instead. It was unimaginable how quick you and him got along in a short period of time as if you had been friends since the start.

"You didn't come to the game yesterday," Jake pointed out rather sulkily, flashing you those signature puppy eyes that you learned in a span of three days was actually just a trick to milk some pity.

"Jake, it's a school night. Why is the team even playing twice this week?" you deadpanned.

"Who says you can't have some fun on school nights?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly at you just to be shot down by your blank stare. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm convinced your appearance is pure luck for our team,"

"Now, what BS are you trying to use to convince me to go?" 

"It's not bullshit! The last game we played that you didn't come to resulted in a near loss. We were lowkey shit. The times you were there, we were somehow the next contending NHL team," 

"I think that's just a coincidence," you poked his arm, shaking your head in pure disbelief. 

"To me it isn't. Come to the next game, and to the pregame party with me on Friday,"

"Pregame party?"

"It's this party we have once in a while—you know what—it's actually almost before every game, but as I was saying, a party,"

"Full of jocks?"

Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. "Not only jocks, Anton will be there too,"

"Wow, like that's any better," you said sarcastically, knowing your best friend was the worst party goer to be with. Despite his shy personality and persona, all it took was one cup of alcohol to get him absolutely buzzed and become the opposite of his usual demeanour. That explained why he would usually ditch you though it was unintended. Wonyoung then became your party partner in crime, you suppose Jake was now trying to make a spot for himself now.

"I won't get drunk, I promise, I won't even touch a single drop of alcohol. I'll be by your side the whole time. It'll be a good opportunity to meet the guys too," he raised his eyebrows expectantly at you, the smile on his face persisting. He could tell you were conflicted. "You do the drinking, I'll do the driving, how about that?"

"Modern day romance, cute," you snickered, gradually letting the feeling of FOMO get to you but you also wanted to actually hang out with Jake. "I'll go,"

"Great—"

"No funny business," you pointed an accusatory finger at him, to which he reacted with a mock salute, flashing a satisfied grin. 

"Absolutely no funny business." He reaffirmed, the sparks in his eyes increasing by tenfold. "I'll be by your doorstep at 8 sharp."

Jake was a man who stuck to his words. He was, in fact, on your doorstep at 8 PM that night, ringing the doorbell a minute earlier until you swung the door open to reveal yourself, already ready to leave. 

"Hey," 

"Hi," you greeted back after a second's pause, stepping out to close the door behind you. "You're on time,"

Jake pulled a face, following your pace as you two started making your way to wherever Jake's car was parked. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You shrugged, pursing your lips. "My past dates never came on time,"

"Well, they suck and I'm glad it didn't get serious because you deserve better," 

You took a glance at him, smiling at the way he had his eyebrows furrowed, looking as if he was mad on your behalf. "I have you now,"

It took a couple of seconds for it to dawn on Jake's face. Watching his features twist and morph upon realisation had you giggling deviously. "I'm your date? Are you calling this a date? What—"

"Come on, let's walk faster." You looped your arm around his, pulling him along and giving him zero chances to collect himself as he tried to dissect everything happening. He didn't question it further once you two got into his car, only a faint smile remained on his lips all the way there.

You practically clung onto Jake almost like a koala bear upon entering the threshold of the frat house, reminding you of why you barely go to parties in the first place. "How about you do all the socialising too?" 

Jake threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. It was an odd feeling when you noticed people having their eyes set on you and him, the hockey star player with just some girl. "Come on, the guys will love you,"

"I have social anxiety,"

"That's too late to confess now," he gave your shoulder a small, reassuring squeeze. "We can leave anytime you want,"

"Really?"

"Really. It's not about me tonight, it's you. Plus, coach will kill us if he knows we're at another one of these parties, so I'm saving my ass while we're at it," 

"You're an idiot," you snorted, but all he did was mirror your smile without your knowledge.

Out of all the things you've witnessed at this party, you found the most fascinating thing was Jake knowing practically everyone there. Every person he's passed by would greet him or he would be the first to greet them, the popularity of his was evident.

Never in a million years would you be able to predict the fact that you would meet the school's hockey team, let alone Jake himself. You were too used to seeing their tiny figures skating around on ice that when Jake brought you up to his friends, you had to blink a couple of times.

"Hey! Oh—you're the one that gave little Jakey a kiss," Heeseung's attention immediately turned to you after Jake introduced you to his small circle of friends. 

"Dude!" Jake swatted Heeseung's shoulder, the reddening tips of his ears gave himself away. 

"I'm Y/N," you casted a pointed look over at Jake while you introduced yourself to his friends, shaking some of their hands and letting them give you a half hug. Anton was amongst the bunch, occasionally nodded over at Jake to purposely tease you. 

The amount of drinking games the circle of hockey players pulled you in was admirable even for a person with high tolerance like you. There were wins and losses, by the end of the night, you could barely stand on your two feet. Thankfully, your personal chauffeur and date was there for you to lean on. 

"I want to see you around more often," Sunghoon drunkenly pointed over at you. "Jakey, don't hide her, okay? She's lots of fun,"

The rest hummed in agreement and Jake reassured them he'd do so before saying his last goodbyes of the night. His attention was now fully on you as he tried his best to get you into his car, somehow managing to also safely drive back to your place and guide you into your dorm. 

"I'll go in myself," you protested against him as you crossed the threshold, his hands holding onto you firmly. 

"You can barely walk properly, Y/N,"

"I'm just a little drunk," you defended, earning an amused snort from Jake who was entirely unconvinced by you. He eventually set you down onto the couch, wandering into the kitchen area and you didn't bother questioning, not when he came back with a glass of water. 

"Here, drink," he handed you the glass of water that you downed in one go. You expected him to leave right after, but he didn't seem to be going anytime soon from the way he stayed glued to his spot next to you. "You alright?"

"I'll manage," you reassured, knowing how your roommate was going to have to put up with your hungover state the next morning. "You should go and get some sleep, you're playing tomorrow,"

"You're right," he stood up, though seemingly reluctant as he stared at your tipsy state. "Are you going to be okay alone?"

"Yes, I'll be! Now stop nagging," you followed suit to stand up, holding onto his arms for slight support. "I'm back home safely thanks to you and that's all that matters. Now, you, home, sleep, okay?"

Jake threw his head back, biting back a smile that was threatening to make its way to his face. "Okay. Who's the one nagging now?"

You pulled a look, punching his shoulder softly in a lighthearted manner. "Whatever," you murmured, excusing the rate of your heartbeat picking up. "You need to rest to score goals,"

"Goals? Why are you suddenly talking about goals?"

"I want to see you score,"

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, an imaginary light bulb flashed bright as an idea did in his head. "And if I score … will I get anything out of it?"

You caught on immediately, rolling your eyes with an incredulous smile. "Maybe an answer to a certain question,"

"Are you raising a bet with me, L/N?"

"Am I? It depends if you're up for it, Sim,"

"I'm always up for a challenge. A goal, a date,"

"You have my word."

Jake was soon out the door, your figure leaning on the doorframe for support as you bid him goodbye. "Good luck for tomorrow," 

"My heart will be at peace knowing you're going to be there. Come find me after the game … which I will score in," 

You stifled a laugh at his response. "I will,"

"Great, I'll see you then," Jake couldn't even hide his excitement from the way his face beamed. He acted nonchalant by shoving his hands into his pockets. "Goodnight," 

You smiled, "Goodnight." It was a daring move, but you took the chance of him being completely caught off guard to swiftly press a kiss on one side of his cheek. You didn't allow him to process this before closing the door, hiding the shade of burning scarlet on your cheeks. 

Were you crazy? Yes. Were you starting to feel something more for Jake? Definitely.

"So … you and him are officially in the talking stage?"

It was the first time Wonyoung accompanied you and Anton to a hockey game. Her lack of interest in the sport didn't fathom neither of you, all you two needed was extra emotional support. So, now you were stuck gossiping instead. 

"Something like that," you shrugged, eyes automatically landing on said talking stage who was warming up on the ice. This time around, Anton managed to score some good seats, though it wasn't front row, it was still considerably close. 

"'Something like that'? Dude, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and you guys wouldn't stop texting, you're literally advancing at this point," Anton crossed his arm, shifting in his seat. 

"You did what? Since when did you get so bold?"

"Since I got drunk. I swear I wasn't in my right mind,"

"Drunk words are sober thoughts, or in your case, drunk actions, that was probably what you've always wanted to do," Anton chipped in, earning a nudge from you.

"And you still haven't given an answer to that date yet? It's been almost a week and it's the weekend already," It was Wonyoung's turn to cross her arm and stare accusingly at you. Guilty. If only they knew the secret bet you had with Jake too.

"Don't worry, I've made up my mind," you, in fact, officially did make up your mind the night you went to bed screaming into your pillows at your action. It was a blessing he hadn't intruded on your dreams or else you'd be doomed.

"Well, what is it?" Wonyoung egged on, but all you did was smile deviously at her.

"I'll tell you after I give him my answer, but I think you'd already know it."

There was no mistake that Jake had spotted you in the crowd multiple times. The first time he glanced over, you thought it was a mere coincidence, but when there was a second, third and fourth time, you knew it wasn't. You didn't miss that lingering smile on his lips each time he spared a glance in your direction. If he kept going on, you felt your heart was about to burst. 

The first period started with a bang. It was barely a few seconds in when the home team already got possession of the puck, Jake playing a big role in it. As if on cue, Jake was the one leading the possession, swerving past the opposition's defence line. Before you knew it, the puck was at the back of the net, a goal by Jake was scored under a minute. 

Naturally, you and your friends jumped out of your seats in celebration. You, however, were hiding a bark of laughter once you remembered the bet you made with Jake. He really had something to prove to you, didn't he? To rub it into your face much more, Jake just had to skate past your section and purposely blow a kiss at your direction. 

It wouldn't be Jake if he didn't have more tricks hidden under his sleeves, which explained why in another minute, a second goal from him was scored. At that point, you were both shocked and amused, realising how you should probably not second question his determination and dedication to securing a date with you. Two goals in two minutes, there was no denying his utmost desperation was apparent. 

The first and second period soon ended with the home team leading. It was a pretty laid back game all thanks to Jake's contributions, so once the third period came around, everyone wasn't on the edge of their seats as much as before. It didn't excuse the surprises that continued to ensue time after time, the next one included Jake. 

The clock was ticking and the atmosphere was gradually getting intense. The sounds of hockey sticks clashing into one another to win over the puck was loud, the home team succeeded in taking possession. That possession was soon passed onto Jake who quickly speeded past the oppositions. In a blink of an eye and a swift movement of his hockey stick, the puck was in the back of the opposition's net. 

The crowd in the stands erupted into shouts of joy, pieces of popcorn flew into the air, drinks were flying everywhere, but nobody cared. You and your two best friends jumped out of your seats at once, shouting and hollering madly. The team on the ice was equally high on energy too, every player was jumping on Jake, but there was no mistaking his eyes being trained on you even if you were a distance away. 

You expected him to turn away right after, but he never averted his attention on you. In a place full of people, you felt as though the lights were focused on you and him only. The camera zoomed in on him which was displayed on the jumbotron screen showing his smiling face, only then he turned his gaze onto the camera, blowing a kiss. This action managed to get many screams, but what came next was unexpected. He held up a gesture with his hand and it was clearly the first letter of your name. 

Jake turned to look back at your direction, showing the letter of your name gestured by his hand proudly. Just from seeing his beaming expression, you found yourself smiling too, unable to resist his charms till the point where your friends were staring at you dumbfounded at the side. Frankly, no man has ever made you smile this way, ever. 

"Did he—" Anton glanced at Wonyoung who looked back at him with a rather nonchalant expression compared to his confused one.

"Dedicate a goal to her? Yeah," it was something everyone could see, even if they didn't know you personally, they'd know Jake was dedicating it to a specific someone. "I wish a talking stage of mine would do this too,"

Anton shook his head. "Dream on, Wony."

Once the game was over, you sent him a text to meet you at the same location you bumped into him, aka somewhere along the food stalls. You took your time hanging around with your friends until you got a response back saying he's on the move, until then your friends decided to leave first and you were left with multiple 'good luck's from them. 

Thankfully, by the time you got there it was mostly empty and there wasn't any crowd, because the last thing you needed was someone overhearing. It didn't take long for Jake to arrive after you did. His hair was still wet from the shower, a backpack slung over his shoulder. 

"Hey," he said casually, stopping right before you. "I didn't keep you waiting, right?"

"Nope, you didn't," you shook your head, pursing your lips. "Great game, by the way,"

"Thanks," Jake's hand travelled to the back of his neck, a small tinge of red making its way to his cheeks. He was shy, especially since you were inadvertently hinting at the celebration that came after the goal. 

You smiled, but the nervous habit of fidgeting your ring betrayed your rather nonchalant expression. It wasn’t supposed to be something so scary, yet it’s a much needed step in your talking stage with him. “Yes,” That wasn’t exactly how you wanted to execute it, here you were making a fool out of yourself instead. 

Jake tilted his head to the side in confusion, almost looking like those golden retriever puppies you’d seen online. “What?” If it wasn’t for your shamelessness and determination in that moment, you’d have already ran away from the embarrassment. 

“Yes, I’d like to go on a date with you. That’s my answer and also a part of our bet,”

Jake’s lips parted, the initial confusion morphed into surprise which he soon fully digested and that realisation resulted in the biggest smile that crept its way onto his face. You couldn’t help but find his reaction endearing, laughing softly. "Nice goals,"

"Thanks. Does that mean I get three dates now?" 

It was easy to laugh around Jake, there was something freeing and warm about his presence. There was a feeling you experienced only with him, you didn't know what it was, but you wished to be able to have it all the time. "Take me out on one date first then we'll decide,"

Jake laughed quietly, looking away to avoid your eyes, because to him, one more glance at you was about to make his heart burst in nervousness.  It took a few seconds for Jake to gather his composure back. He was the complete opposite compared to the person he was making that bet with you, shy and cheeky, unlike the confident and suave person he was from that night, the stark difference was what warmed your heart. 

The obvious giddiness of his was eventually masked by an attempt in casualness. "I–tomorrow, seven, I'll pick you up,"

"Sounds good,"

"Great. Amazing," Jake mindlessly said, unable to take his starry eyes away from you. It looked as if Jake was completely enamoured by you from the way he stared at you with fascination. Whatever was going on between you and him then, it was some kind of love that was undeniably innocent. 

Almost in a single blink, Jake snapped out of it, somehow being self aware as a shade of pink painted his cheeks at the realisation of his own thoughts. "It's getting late, how about I take you back to your dorms?"

"That'd be great, thank you." you suddenly felt shy under his gaze, the thoughts in your mind were yelling at your heart to stop beating so quickly. 

Under the bleak night sky, you and Jake made your way back to your dorms with the stars as an additional companion. For the first time in forever, you found yourself wishing the night would never end and the road stretched further just so you could listen to his laughter for another minute. Falling in love was scary, but realising it was another story.

"It's been three hours and you still haven't made up your mind yet?"

Calling Wonyoung over and having her help you in getting ready was actually just her seeing you entering your demise as you overthink every little single detail. The outfit you chose had been changed over and over again till the point where Wonyoung was exhausted just by watching you do so. 

"I haven't been on a date in ages, cut me some slack," you groaned, sitting down on the edge of your bed in defeat. "Plus, I think what's different about this date compared to the others is that I actually like him,"

"You—what?" Wonyoung practically scooted over in a hurry to join your side, purposely looking at you in shock.

"What?"

"You admitted it. You never do, amd it's only been a week," 

"Didn't need you to call out my emotional avoidant issues but yeah, I do like him. Well, not like 'like' him, confession kinda level yet. It's getting there but I think there's probably a chance," you sighed in defeat, basically raising your hands up in surrender, liking someone could be ever so thrilling but also an emotion filled rollercoaster. "He's sweet, genuine, funny, cute, everything a girl could ever dream of, it's no surprise how he's so easy to love. But I just hope I'm not another one of the girls in his roster,"

"Hey!" Wonyoung nudged you hard in the ribs, you sat up straight, head snapping to see her disapproving frown. "You're not, okay? I doubt he even has one from what I heard,"

"What?"

"I did some digging and from what my sources claimed, he hasn't been seeing anyone since his last break up, which was over a year ago. Not like the ones on his team, okay? They're fucking everywhere and he's been practising celibacy, alright?" Wonyoung's reassurance might've been slightly lighthearted, but it still held a certain weight to it. "Don't think too much. Are Anton's words getting to your head?" 

"Well, no, but you already know my traumatic experiences with guys like him," by that you meant your exes and past dates, who were coincidentally friends of Anton's and the reason how you got to know them in the first place, also explaining why you doubt your best friends' judgement at times. Dating in the 21st century was tough. "I'm just saying. It feels too good to be true,"

"Or maybe it's because he likes you for who you are. You're you. Don't care about him being some hot shot hockey player, in the end, he's the one who wants a date with you."

You replayed Wonyoung's words as you waited for Jake to turn up at your doorstep, the clock ticking close to seven. As much as you had a great time getting to know him  throughout the week, you couldn't help but have doubtful thoughts. He was Jake, the star player of the hockey team, there were probably many girls on campus dying to be in your spot right now. 

Maybe Wonyoung was right, Anton's words were getting to you. You shook the badgering thoughts from your mind once you heard the doorbell ringing, all of the doubts disappeared the moment you opened your door to see a nicely dressed Jake Sim, who had a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

Jake stared at you, his eyes sweeping over your body, lips parting in what you think was awe. The black dress Wonyoung picked really was the best choice it seemed. "Wow," he breathed out, pressing one hand on his chest. "You look like a dream,"

If what people described as having butterflies fluttering in your abdomen was exactly how you felt when he said that, they were probably right. You could feel the heat rushing up to your cheeks, painting them a light shade of pink. It was cliche, something typical a man would say, but somehow when it came to him, it had an effect on you.

"Thank you. You look handsome too," you smiled at him, momentarily getting distracted by the first few buttons of his button down shirt that was undone. It was most likely on purpose, wasn't it?

"Thank you," he bit back his smile from becoming wider, then raised his arm which held onto the flowers. "I got you flowers,"

You raised an eyebrow at him, both pleased and surprised. It might've been a simple act, but it was certainly a way to your heart. "You really know how to charm me, don't you?" You accepted them and quickly ran to place them on the counter, mentally noting to store them away later. 

"I have my secret ways to get to your heart," he slipped his hands into his pockets, watching you make your way out and offered you his hand, which you gladly took. "And today, there's going to be another one that will lead me there,"

"I'm intrigued."

The car ride was quite longer than you had expected. It was a good thing that the whole journey wasn't filled with complete silence. Here and there, either Jake or you would tell the other about something going on in your lives, sometimes even the most random things too. The occasional silence wasn't awkward at all. With him, you realised the silences were always comfortable, as if his presence was what made everything reassuring. 

The car eventually came to a stop at a building. You prayed it wasn't some shady building you were about to get abducted in, but knowing Jake, it should be the complete opposite of so. He held the door open for you at all times, even the car door, such small gestures made you smile secretly and your heart skipping. It was quite a torture, however, for his hand to brush against yours but never once intertwining. Maybe it was because he didn't wish to go against your boundaries and you were also too shy to suggest it, so either of you were left being stuck in agony hoping the distance between would disappear.

The elevator reached the top in no time. You were rather relieved, the tension in the whole journey up was palpable. It was obvious the both of you were aware of it, the only problem was no one dared to act on it. From Jake's frequent glances and his intense gaze, you knew his hand was itching to reach out for yours.

You were surprised at what Jake had planned once you stepped out of the elevator and into a restaurant with open air. It was a rooftop dining restaurant. Jake didn't bother to hide his knowing smile even as the server led you both to a reserved table. 

"Dinner and sunsets," Jake smiled cheekily at you, seemingly looking proud of himself and the idea behind this location. 

You narrowed your eyes at him lightheartedly. How could he have known that this was an ideal date of yours? "How did you know?" 

Jake paused, then he shrugged, feigning casualness that you knew was the opposite of his true feelings currently. "I have my sources," Anton. Again.  

You snorted at the common phrase you've grown to understand, shaking your head at the thought of Jake constantly pestering your best friend for information. Yet, it wasn't exactly a bad thing. Knowing Jake would frequently ask your friends about you and your likings showed his efforts. Plus points. 

"I've never had someone put this much thought into a date with me before," 

Jake's gaze softened following your words, the littlest of the edges of his lips curled upwards. He let out a small endearing laugh and looked down a second to hide it. "I just hope you'll get to enjoy this date to the max. It's all about you after all,"

"Of course I will! The restaurant's amazing, the view over the city is too perfect. The fact that we'll get to watch the sunset in a while too? Ten out of ten,"

"I'm glad. You have no idea how much panic and anxiety I had planning this out,"

It was your turn to smile, the image of Jake being all panicked asking Anton to try and plan a perfect date was absolutely fitting to what you expected. "I wouldn't mind even if you took me to a seven eleven to eat cup noodles together if it meant we got to spend time together,"

You didn't know what it was exactly hidden behind Jake's expressions. He was resisting the urge to smile wider, the look of appreciation and adoration flashed across his eyes expressed otherwise. "I guess that's going to be our next date. I still have another two, don't I?"

"I don't remember that being in our deal exactly," you tilted your head and felt your heart beating with an increased tempo, accepting the effect he has on you by now. "But I don't mind seeing you more actually. Maybe I can promise you more than two dates,"

A look of relief was evident on Jake's face, he smirked in disbelief at you almost causing his heart to stop thinking you didn't want more than this one date. He was wrong, so wrong to doubt you. "Scared me for a second, thought you wanted this to be your one and very last date with me,"

"How could I? The restaurant's not the only reason I'll enjoy this date, you know? It's because of you," you averted your eyes away for a moment, suddenly scared to meet his gaze and the intensity of it. "You're the main reason, Jake," 

Once your confession had escaped your lips after holding it in for a suffocating amount of time, you realised you were not only professing something that was blossoming, but also gradually opening up to him, being completely honest and vulnerable while speaking your mind. It was odd. You've only known him for a week, but it was the most you've ever felt for a man you were romantically involved with. Maybe the part where he kissed you before you even knew one another played a role in the speed of your feelings' development, but you rather not come to terms with that. 

There was another side of you which bugged you negatively. You had a feeling falling so fast for somewhere could eventually lead to a dismay. Some of your friends were evidence you could attest to, the amount of tears shed onto your sleeve was enough of a memory for you to recall. It was also a lesson on not moving too fast that you learnt.  Were you going to get your heart broken? 

But, the heart does want what it wants. You were a victim of listening to your heart over your head, and so were your friends who would tell you the same continuously. Seeing the man opposite you being completely stunned at what you said made the thoughts in your head panic. Oh God, did he not feel the same? Were you the one moving too fast and misreading the room instead? You turned away to look at the view of the city as a way to avoid his gaze, your heart feeling as if it was about to explode at any minute.

The view before you was exactly what you were feeling at that moment. The golden orange mixed with a pale pink painted your emotions of a complicated longing and attraction towards Jake, the softness of the colours were exactly how you felt for him, adoration and affection. "Pretty," you said mindlessly as you watched the sunset. 

Jake followed your sight to take in the beauty of the sunset over the city, smiling to himself before turning back to look at you, taking the chance while you were paying him no mind. If only you could see the amount of pure fondness in his eyes which travelled to the corners of your face under the reflection of the orangey pink sunset. "Pretty,"

In that exact moment, it was a scene out of a movie and you weren't even aware of it. The hidden intimacy of it all was something you couldn't find reciprocating with someone else. That was mainly because Jake wasn't just someone to you.

You pushed the whole load of thoughts going around in your mind to play a little game of twenty questions with Jake. It was probably not the best idea, but it was also a convenient way to get to know someone. You soon learned that Jake had a dog back in Australia and he played football before getting into hockey, which explained why he held onto the jersey number five for a long time. His favourite colour was black, spring was his favourite season and that grape was his favourite flavour. There were many occurrences in which you and Jake yelled 'me too' in between the things you two revealed about yourselves. There was one out of many you two shared a belief in: love at first sight.

You were surprised at how compatible you and him were. There were slight differences but also a lot of similarities between you both. Maybe it was fate for you to find someone that fits you like a puzzle. Throughout the dinner, everything was going smoothly with nothing but laughter and interesting conversations to go with your food. That was until a foreign voice came towards your table.

"Jakey!" The familiar voice you've encountered once during the party came from behind you. You could tell by the smile faltering from Jake's face that he was not happy with the appearance of this person. Actually, it wasn't just one, there were multiple. 

"Jaeyun!" There came another and soon the three stars of the hockey team appeared by your table. At first, their attention was all on Jake, their precious best friend and teammate. But judging from Jake's death glare, they only got the gist once they noticed your presence there, taking them a second to process everything. 

"Hey guys," you greeted with a pinch of uncertainty, but you wanted to be nice and it would be rude not to greet them. 

"Y/N," they acknowledged you in unison, their glances going back and forth between you and Jake. "Looking good," Heeseung added, followed by a hum of agreement from the other two. This only earned a sharp jap on the side from Jake. 

"Thank you," you covered your smile with your hand, the urge to burst into full blown laughter was getting strong. 

Looking at the knowing smirks appearing on every one of their faces, you knew all of them were sharing the same amount of brain cells which had identical thoughts. "Are you guys on a … date?" Sunghoon, the rather cheeky one, was the first to ask. 

"Yes, we are, and you guys are crashing it," Jake narrowed his venomous eyes at his best friends, his gaze were enough to convey a message: he was going to strangle them to death after the date. "Why are you guys even here?"

"Well, Heeseung kinda overheard you asking Anton about a good restaurant or something like that, then he told Jay and Jay told me, so we thought it'd be nice to check it out on the same day you're going," Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck, realising how awkward this whole situation was. 

At that point, Jake was rubbing his temples as if his head was about to burst at any second. The three hockey players turned to look at you for help, to you, they were almost like three helpless puppies who were about to be scolded. "We're sorry," Jay immediately gripped the other two by their shoulders, "and we're going to get out of your hair now. Enjoy your date, bye!" He rushed his words out then instantly dragged Sunghoon and Heeseung away, their hushed whispers audible until they eventually disappeared as a whole.

You turned over your shoulder to see their retreating figures until they were completely out of sight. You had to stifle your laugh as you turned back, seeing Jake shake his head before he met your eyes, cracking a small and rather embarrassed smile. "Sorry about that. I didn't know they were going to appear,"

"You don't need to be sorry. I think it's funny they made a sudden appearance and it definitely took me by surprise—in a good way. Plus, it's cute they came here wanting to join you thinking you were alone,"

The initial annoyance and embarrassment melted from Jake's expressions, he smiled with full genuinity, chuckling lightly. "Yeah, it was,"

You leaned your front against the table, placing your head onto your palm for support. "So, you asked Anton about me, your 'source'," you began carefully, "how long has it been going on?" 

Jake flushed a light shade of pink that matched the hues of the sunset from earlier. He let out a cough then masked it with a lopsided smile in embarrassment that you had caught him straight on. "Ever since I found out you were friends,"

You couldn't stop yourself from grinning at his truthful confession. "I figured,"

"You did?" He tilted his head in curiosity and surprise. You supposed it was normal for some men to be oblivious. 

"It's not hard to catch on, Jake. I only have two close friends," you poked light fun, though in reality it was pretty much the truth and you were not going to talk about that. 

"Two close friends? What about me?"

You shrugged, surpressing the laughter that was on the edge of escaping your lips. "Well, yes, but you're more than just a friend to me,"

Jake's eyes lit up, a twinkling sparkle decorated his pupils. However, his playful grin said otherwise. "Best friend?"

"Get out."

Other than the cameo of Jake's friends, the rest of the date has been relaxing and calm, going smoothly as you continued on with more jokes and throwing fun facts about yourselves. The person you saw on ice was a contrary compared to the one sittinf opposite you. Although he was much rougher and aggressive on ice, even till the point where it landed him several suspensions, you knew he wasn't like that. He showed you his true, softer side with nothing but honesty and trust. There was only mutual respect and truth between you two, that was how easy it was to be with him. 

By the time you got back to your dorm room, it was already past midnight. Time was no longer a concept when it came to being with Jake. Neither you nor him realised how late it was until the servers told you they were closing soon, being completely immersed in each others' presence and conversation to even pay attention to your surroundings. Jake had walked you to the door of your dorm room, the exact spot where he probably stood knocking your door earlier.

"Thanks for tonight. I don't think I'd ever forget about … everything. The sunset, your friends—" you smiled at that moment when Jake snorted when his friends were mentioned, "and you,"

The grin he had on his face faltered a little, his eyebrows raising and head tilting slightly. "Me?"

You couldn't tell him the truth. The sight of him with the sunset was when you realised your heart was feeling for him more than you could control. It was as if your heart was speaking for you. The hues of the evening sunset painted his face with a slow glow when he was watching it unfold before you, it was then you looked over at him and felt your heart stop. He was beautiful, his smile was something you wished was embedded in your mind even when you closed your eyes. 

Instead, you hid the truth. "You put so much effort into planning this whole date till the point where you asked Anton about me. I'm grateful that you cared this much, it's something I'll never forget,"

The smile on his delicate features only grew wider, the light tinge of pink was making its way to his cheeks. "I'll never forget about this too, our first date. I never knew I could feel this way,"

"What way?"

"In a way where I feel too much, and I feel like my heart is about to burst at any moment just watching you," Jake bit his tongue, stopping himself from letting all his inner thoughts pour out and overwhelm you, the last thing he needed was you running into your dorm and never see him again. Little did he know you would do the opposite of that. 

"I feel the same too," it was your turn to confess your truth. From the looks of Jake's reaction, that was probably the last thing he expected as a response which reciprocated his thoughts. You couldn't help chuckling softly at his expressions, he was definitely someone who had a rich set of reactions for each situation. 

"Do you want to know what I think we should do next time?" There was an edge of humour in his tone, you didn't know what he was going to say next. You narrowed your gaze at him, particularly at the way he said it. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Yeah, why? Is it something dirty?" You scrunch your face up, shooting daggers at him. 

"It's disgusting," he punctuated, pausing for a few seconds after. "I think we should go on another date sometime, go bowling or whatever, get some ice cream,"

The glint in his seemingly mischievous looking stare met the roll of your eyes. He snickered at your reaction and you almost punched his shoulder out of spite. "You idiot," there was no chance of you hiding the growing smile, "I'd love to. It's a no brainer,"

Jake smiled in relief, breathing out a sigh. "I'll hold you to it," he snapped his fingers. There was a short pause, realising something shifted in the air ever since the moment you and him both confessed each of your inner thoughts. 

You took the chance to divert the conversation away in an attempt to make everything less awkward. "You should head back already, it's late. Thanks for driving me back. I'll text you, okay?"

"Right," Jake said rather mindlessly, the gears in his head seemingly turning and still stuck on the conversation a few steps back. 

"Goodnight, Jake," your hand was on the doorknob, giving it a twist to open your door, but you didn't walk in just yet. 

"No goodnight kiss?" Jake said teasingly before you could even take a step past the threshold. The slight raise in his eyebrows and the smirk on his face was what made you recalled Anton's words of them having fuckbiy tendencies. Well, there was that side of him. 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "Nice try, I'm not intoxicated this time, Jake. Maybe I'll give you one on our next date—just maybe," you sent him a blowing kiss, which he caught as you closed your door shut, the sound of his sweet laughter was audible enough for you to feel a smile mindlessly making its way to your lips.

You hoped this would never end. The feeling of overwhelming joy, the giddiness as if you were a teenage girl all over again, the pure emotions of liking someone. All of this, you wished it would have a fortunate outcome.

Days turned into weeks where weeks turned into months. The time you've known Jake was no longer just a week, but months now. During those months you've spent together, there were countless of dates he brought you out on. Amusement park, cinema, ice skating rink, roller skate rink, the list of location went on and on. At that point, there was nothing but transparency between you two given the amount of time spent with each other. He wasn't just becoming your best friend, but also someone your heart was yearning for. By then, all your negative overthinking thoughts from the first date had completely vanished. Wonyoung was right, you thought too much.

Over the months, he has been proving to you that he was just a loser in disguise, you were saying this with full affection, of course. The initial fuckboy reputation that everyone claimed him to be just because he was part of the hockey team proved the complete opposite. He was probably a victim of rumours, stereotypes and generalisation. 

"Aim better!" 

It was one of those weekends reserved for date nights between you and Jake. It was a little something special that you and him shared. This had become a tradition before you even realised. The bowling alley nearby became the talk of the conversation about your next date not long before and here you were now, beating him while he continued to sigh in defeat.

"I am! You can't just say that while you're here winning. How are you so good at this?" He was gripping onto the bowling ball tightly, his eyes trained on the pins ahead of him. "I didn't know there was this side of you. You should consider a career in bowling," his aim definitely didn't land right when all he managed to do was knock two pins down. "I give up,"

"Don't be a sore loser here," one throw of the bowling ball from you showed Jake your true talents when every one of the pins came knocking down. 

He turned to face you while still standing in his own lane, hands on his hips with a look of disbelief and admiration. "You know what, that's probably one of the hottest things I've seen,"

You screwed your face up, letting out a snort. "Your switch up is crazy,"

Jake threw his hands up in mock defence, shrugging. "Hey, I might've not win in bowling but I did win here with you by my side,"

Him and his words. He sure knew how to work them to his advantage and make you flustered. You turned away from him to hide your grin, the bowling ball in your hold suddenly feeling ten times heavier. "You're such a tease, Sim,"

He picked up a bowling ball too, contrary to his claims of giving up earlier. At your response, he laughed lightheartedly, giving it a few seconds before speaking again, as if to let everything soak in. "Just speaking the truth, sweets."

The next and last location to end the night of competitive bowling was the ice cream shop down the street. In classic Jake style, he got the flavour with the most complicated and weirdest name out there just for it to be chocolate, whereas you got a simple strawberry flavour. Strawberry and chocolate, a match made in heaven which represented you and him coincidentally. How cliche. 

Amidst the silent exchange of reactions to each of your ice creams, Jake placed down his cup after taking one small scoop. "I have something to propose,"

You paused, glanced at him with suspicion before halting your actions completely. "What is it?"

"Be my plus one for Sunghoon's birthday party,"

You displayed some apprehension. "Is it some crazy frat party like the one you brought me to last time?"

Jake let out an amused sounding snort, then shook his head. "The opposite—"

"Thank God," you breathed out a sigh of relief.

Jake, however, looked rather offended. Maybe because the party was his hockey team's pre-game party. "Hey! The party I brought you to wasn't that bad," 

"It's the most beer and shots I've consumed in a night. I would say I'm lucky for having a solid tolerance but I'd also rather not think about the morning after,"

Jake smiled at that. You didn't know if it was simply because you brought up a past memory or that memory reminded him of your certain actions that night. Either way, you didn't miss his sly smile. "Okay, okay. There's no frat parties at all for Sunghoon's birthday, don't worry. We're going to throw a dinner party at our place and that's all. Pretty simple,"

Your face lit up at the idea of a birthday party, contrasting the look you had minutes ago thinking it was going to be another party with sweaty frat boys. "Wait, that's actually so cute. Count me in,"

"Really?"

"Really. When is it?"

"Next Saturday,"

"You know exactly when to pick me up."

It wasn't even Saturday yet when Jake turned up on your doorstep unannounced in the middle of the week. He had an unapologetic smile, a bouquet of fresh flowers in one hand and a box of donuts in the other. The confusion on your face to the unamused stance you had while staring at him was enough of a response on your part. Look, you liked Jake, but whoever ruins your sleep at nine in the morning was not an exception when it came to you cursing them out. 

"Is this a courtship or a bribe?" You leaned your side against the doorframe, doing anything but inviting him at that moment. 

"Both?" He shrugged, the awkward twist of his smile told you he had an explanation ready,

"Come in," you moved your body away to let the starry eyed Jake in, a certain plan he had concocted was soon to be revealed. "Had breakfast yet?" 

"I did. But I know you haven't had breakfast, so I got you donuts," he nodded at the box in his hand, then raised his other hand that held onto the bouquet. "And flowers. I know the last one I got you is wilting," he pointed over at the vase sitting on the counter, the previous bouquet he got you on your date was indeed slowly wilting. How did he know? You didn't ask that. 

You watched Jake's movements as he set the box and bouquet down onto the table, standing in a stance which reminded you of your mother when you were in trouble. "What brings you here at nine in the morning on a Thursday, Jake? I thought you had practice and I thought I would have extra sleep," 

Jake flashed you a sheepish smile, rubbing his forearm out of habit. "That got cancelled, so I wanted to take the chance to run an errand I've been holding off. This errand, however, requires your help," 

You raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "My help? What could it possibly be?"

The question you asked was answered when Jake drove you to a mall nearby. Turns out, he didn't know what he should get for Sunghoon's birthday, which was just in a few days. Not to mention, they were anything but prepared for the party. So, a trip to the mall with your guidance was a way to lessen Jake's bundle of worries. 

"You said Sunghoon needed what?"

"A new bottle of aftershave," Jake trailed off with a hint of uncertainty, but also some embarrassment. 

"Right," you nodded slowly, scrunching your nose up at the choice of gift Jake wanted to pick out, but alas, he knew Sunghoon better than you did so who were you to judge? "What else?"

"I already ordered him a Mitch Marner jersey, so I think that's all? Oh—I need to get him this thing,"

You were puzzled, but at that point, you didn't wish to question his interesting choices of a gift. "Which is?"

"A penguin plushie."

It seemed this gift was something Jake had in mind for ages as he found his way with no fault to a toy store and knowing exactly which aisle to go to in search for the penguin plushie. With a bottle of aftershave, a penguin plushie and a soon to be delivered hockey jersey, that was Sunghoon's gift from Jake. Next on the list was party decorations. 

"Do you know what party decorations we're supposed to get?" Jake said with uncertainty as you walked past aisles of colourful decorations, only getting overstimulated by the bright colours and overwhelming amount of choices to choose from. 

"I've done many things but a birthday party? This is a first," you sighed, grabbing some tinsels that got approval by Jake with a nod of his head. 

"I blame them for putting me in charge of decoration. I want to get the cake instead," Jake sulked rather pitifully next to you, and instead, you snicker silently, which was received by a huff from him.

The trip to the mall ended with a bag of gifts and another bag full of decorations. Maybe you and him went a little overboard on the decorations, but Jake justified that it's reusable—well, except for the letter balloons which spelled Sunghoon's name.

Jake and you stopped by the small apartment he shared with his friends before dropping you off back home. It was probably your fourth time entering the apartment he lived in and it was also the fourth version of the house you last remembered. There was a new painting, several pieces of furniture shifted, and a whole lot of laundry stacked on the couch. 

Not that you were intimidated by the ever changing interior till the point where you didn't drop by his place compared to the times he came over to yours, it's just the last time you were here, the memory wasn't quite a favourable one. Let's just say, it was another recreation of your first date where the three of his friends joined your supposed movie date, but there was something they lacked that time around: self awareness. That only resulted in you and Jake cuddling rather stiffly listening to three of them rambling about the movie's theories.

"Thanks for coming along with me today," Jake held onto a chair once everything was set aside, the two of you standing close to the door and being the sole presence there at that hour.

"It's no problem. I'm glad I could be of help even though I'm pretty sure you already had everything in plan, didn't you?" 

"I'll look stupid if I admit that this was a plan to just get some time with you, won't I?" Jake slipped his hands into his pockets, glancing at the floor for a second with a small smile. "I genuinely needed your input, though. I'm sure the party will go well with your opinions,"

"It better go well, or else me getting woken up early and also getting bribed will all be in vain," you said in a lighthearted manner, eliciting a quiet laugh from Jake, and because of that, you were unable to resist a smile creeping onto your lips. "Trust me, I look more stupid for willingly sacrificing my sleep so that I can let you pull me into whatever scheme you have,"

There was a mutual spark that lighted in between. The weight of both yours and Jake's words carried something more than you had anticipated. It was evident that there was a change of atmosphere in that room, in that split second. Realisation clicked at the end of your sentence, both by you and Jake.

The momentary silence was broken by Jake. "I can't seem to find my words, but I know what my heart wants,"

You inhaled a small, sharp breath, eyes flickering. "What is it?"

"To kiss you,"

You shouldn't feel nervous, right? That was what you thought then but whatever you were feeling was betraying your thoughts. Was he going to kiss you? No, he was holding back, and that was obviously torturous not only to him but you. You wanted him to kiss you. "Then do it. Kiss me,"

You've never been braver until this moment. Never in a lifetime would you have expected those words to leave your lips. Congratulations to Jake for being the first man to get you to do so, but God, you were going insane and you were lucky your knees hadn't given out. 

Jake took a step closer to you, his hands were by his side now. The steps were daring, testing the waters. You gave a green light by staying unmoving, the quiver of your lips were a sign of anticipation and anxiety. It was happening. Your official first kiss with him. An actual kiss after months. 

At that point, he was standing so close to you, you could almost feel his breath on your face. The cologne he wore daily filled your senses, his warmth you got used to was giving you a quiet assurance like a hug. He could just kiss you now if he wanted to, but why couldn't he? Maybe he was taking his time. He was staring all over your face, as if memorising every little detail of it.

The moment his palm made its way to your cheek was when you knew you were far too deep to escape. You ignored the quickening pace of your heart and the wobble in your knees, then closed your eyes and waited with hope. 

It never came. The feeling of his lips never touched yours. Instead, the sound of the front door bursting open and the shouts of several familiar voices came crashing into your reality. 

"We're home!" The voice belonged to Heeseung, seemingly still unaware of everything. "We saw shoes out front—oh," realisation.

It was then you snapped your eyes wide open, pushing yourself away from Jake before you could form any coherent thought. Jake's expressions matched the one you had on your face: panic and shock. You stayed staring at each other for a few solid seconds until you figured you were, in fact, not dreaming of the voices and that his friends were actually standing there. 

"I—were we—did we—interrupt—" Jay stuttered out, the horrors on both his and Heeseung's faces would've been comical if only you weren't stuck in this situation yourself.  

"No!" The word escaped both yours and Jake's lips at the same time, in the same tone and manner. You turned to look at him and he did the same, then you faced his friends again. 

Jake heaved a sharp breath, pupils shaking visibly. "Well, I was just about to grab my keys to drop Y/N home," he snatched his car keys from the table without thinking twice, the awkward tension in the room was suffocating. 

"Yeah, we were about to leave …" you trailed off at the lie you made up. Nope, you weren't about to leave, you were about to kiss Jake. Oh, Anton and Wonyoung were going to love this story.

"Should we…?" Jake glanced at you, the red lights practically blaring in those pairs of brown eyes. You got his cry for help and nodded, because you, too, were calling out for help internally.  

"We should, yeah, we definitely should. I'll see you guys at the party." you waved a quick and stiff goodbye then grabbed your stuff, following Jake out the door. Only when you were outside wearing your shoes, you got the chance to breathe out a breath of relief. You didn't know what was about to happen in that house or after Jake returned, but all you could guess was them being as panicked as you were.

On the drive home, it was rather quiet. Whether it was the lasting awkwardness from earlier or the avoidance of the topic, you didn't know. You could feel his occasional glances at you, yet he didn't dare to act on it and somehow, you felt disappointed after every one of them. 

You thought by the end of the drive, you'd be silently leaving his car with no words exchanged. However, Jake wasn't one to leave it at that, nor was he someone to let you go that easily. He grabbed onto your hand before you could reach for the handle, halting you in the midst of your actions. 

"I'm sorry about earlier," he let go of your hand from his hold as you sat back into the cushioned seat of his car, the flickering of his eyes gave his nervousness away. "I can't believe it happened again,"

You cracked a small, humorous smile at the mention of you and him getting interrupted for a second time by his friends. At that point, you believed it was just fate that intervened. "It's okay, Jake, really. The timing wasn't perfect, I suppose, and I get it,"

"Maybe," he hummed, unable to take his eyes away from you, which only made you want to sink into the seat further. He couldn't just do that after almost kissing you! It's not fair. "I'm frustrated,"

"At your friends?"

"At my friends, and at the fact that I couldn't kiss you," 

He was bold. It was something you never got used to, having no prediction of what he would say next. This was one of them. 

"Yet," you added quite daringly, looking away to hide the shyness you were suddenly feeling.

"What?"

"You couldn't kiss me yet," you repeated, this time a little more confident than a minute ago. "There's always a next time, isn't there?"

Jake let out a small chuckle, throwing his head back slightly, the reddening tips of his ears betraying his current calm demeanour. The simplicity of your optimistic words made his heart jump at the unrelenting chances of another try. Second time could go right, can it? "Yeah, and I'll make sure there's no interruption during then, just the two of us."

You were thankful you declined Jake's offer of walking you up to your dorm room. Having him beside you in his car when he uttered those words so nonchalantly almost made you lose your mind. Even after you entered your room, you still felt the lingering feeling of his lips just like a ghost. Closing your eyes, you could almost feel his warmth around you swallowing you whole, the touch of his hand on your cheek burning. 

Lying in bed, you thought of him the whole night as if he had infected your mind. It was then you realised what you felt months ago was different compared to now. Your feelings for Jake was no longer some simple crush, attraction or liking, it was something deeper. You liked him, but it was a kind of feeling where you felt yourself giving your heart to him with no doubts, the stars in your eyes only shining brightly for him. He was your universe.  

God, how did you end up here? You had fallen deeply and helplessly.

On the evening of Sunghoon's birthday, you, Jake, and the rest of his friends along with some of their partners spent the last bit of time finalising all of the decorations before the birthday boy's arrival. 

The near kissing incident with Jake was eventually swept under the rug.  Maybe it did for you and him, but you could tell from Heeseung and Jay's faces that they were still suffering from the embarrassment when seeing you. You had a feeling Jake told them off after getting back that day. 

Other than that, you were more relieved nothing was awkward or stiff between the two of you. Everything was well and the preparations for Sunghoon's birthday busied him enough to get his mind off the embarrassing yet intimate moment. The time you spent with him throughout the whole fiasco of planning did some salvaging. 

"Do you think he'll like this colour?" Jake was anxiously looking at the time on his watch, noting Sunghoon's imminent arrival. Jay was out with Sunghoon to get him away from the house as long as he could.

"Jake, it's just yellow," you patted his shoulder in reassurance, unable to blame the guy for being a tad bit nervous for the first party he planned for his best friend.

"You're right—I hear his car in the driveway. Guys! Off the lights now!" Jake couldn't even get a single breath of peace when speaking of the devil, Sunghoon was home. He grabbed onto your arm, pulling you with him to hide behind the counter. The others were scurrying for the cake and you were thankful you weren't tasked to handle that. 

Even though it wasn't your first time rehearsing this, the feeling of Jake holding tightly onto your wrist, his body pressing close to yours as you squatted behind the counters, all of them were the factors your heart was beating extremely fast. Not because of Sunghoon and the entirety of his surprise party, but Jake. 

The heat emitting from his body shouldn't be making you flush red, should it? The scent of his woody cologne was concentrated, the closeness of his face and his obliviousness to it all was the cherry on top.

"I'm nervous," he whispered, the voices outside becoming louder as footsteps approached closer to the front door. 

You flashed him an assuring smile, squeezing his hand lightly. "It's going to be fine. You have me,"

The undying spark in his eyes shined even in the darkness of the room. He gave your hand a squeeze back, tugging it closer to him. "I have you."

Jake's hand never left yours even when you and him jumped at the entrance of Sunghoon. Shouts echoed around the room as Sunghoon remained shocked whilst his friends wished him happy birthday. The cake was immediately carried towards him and everyone started singing the tune of the birthday song. All while everything was happening, the hand intertwined with yours was the only thing occupying your mind.

At the end of the night with Sunghoon drunk out of his mind and everyone else too tipsy to function properly, you were one of the few left sober. Surprisingly, Jake was among the few you mentioned. There on the sidewalk of his driveway you sat under the starlit sky, catching a moment of fresh air after the whole day's worth of running around.

"Can I join?" The voice you would anticipate hearing interrupted your daze, glancing up from the sidewalk to see Jake's smiling face. 

"Always," 

He didn't say anything more but instinctively sat himself next to you, his shoulders brushing against yours created a spark that neither of you could ignore. There was a short pause of silence where you and him said nothing but just basked in each other's presence. It was one of those times where you communicated through your every microexpressions, barely saying anything audibly but also expressing everything needed. 

"I have a question," 

You were the first to break the silence, taking a daring step. 

"Shoot," 

"This is going to sound cliche, and a little stupid, but bear with me," you let your curiosity wander this time, maybe it was a spur of a moment feeling which gave you a sense of sudden vulnerability, you didn't know. "Why me?" 

Jake turned to look at you. "What?" 

"Why—out of many other girls on campus—you somehow ended up liking me and asking me out on a date?" Gosh, you knew how cliche it already sounded in your head, but to say it aloud was probably worse. You were thankful Jake wasn't walking away at the question. Instead, a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. 

"It's a long story,"

"Oh God, it's not one of those movie scenes where you tell me it's all a bet and try to win me over after I get heartbroken, right?"

Jake let out an amused sounding chuckle, throwing his head back, a habit you noticed whenever he laughs at something humorous. "What is this? '10 Things I hate about you'? Thankfully no," he gave your shoulder a small bump with his, eliciting a quiet laugh from you this time. 

"You might not remember this since it's been a while," he continued on with his story and you grew more curious. "But we actually met before that night you punched me,"

"What?"

Jake knew you wouldn't remember the memory he's bringing up currently, only smiling in response as he gave you a few seconds to process. "It's a little crazy, but we actually met on a Saturday evening. I can still remember it clearly. You were the person who offered me your umbrella on that rainy day when I was stranded outside the library building. I almost didn't make it to practice if it wasn't for you,"

He turned away from you, glancing up at the sky instead, the slight smile he had on his face maintained, never once faltering. "If I have to be fully honest with you, at that time when it happened, I was still quite heartbroken from my last break up even though months had passed since then, but seeing you … I felt something. The biggest regret was not talking to you when you already left, then somehow I found my way back to you,"

Your head was a mess scrambling to piece together Jake's story. Searching in every corner of your mind, you thought back to a rainy day, from there you looked further. The blurry memory of a guy appeared, the vague recollection of a face matched the one sitting next to you. It happened, it actually happened. 

"You did," you whispered, your voice audible in the quiet night air. "Maybe there was an invisible string tying us together all along," 

"I usually don't believe in things like that, but for once, when it comes to you, I do believe it," Jake's gaze held a twinkle that resembled the stars on the night sky, his features was soft as he stared at you with a touch of gentleness you've never once seen.

"Can I be honest?" You held onto your breath, the speed of your heartbeat increasing. He was anticipating your words, looking at you expectantly. But you found yourself frozen for a moment. He was pretty, so pretty. Staring at him was enough to get you stumbling over your words. "No one has ever made me feel this much except for you,"

The unbreaking eye contact was intense. Once your confession left your lips, there was a shift in the atmosphere, the air was thick and laced with an electric spark. He was digesting every letter you uttered, the slight surprise morphed into a smile. The corners of your lips automatically followed along with his, stretching into a smile that you didn't know was Jake's favourite.

"I feel the same too," he edged his body a little closer, facing towards you more, all of which went unnoticed by you. "I want to be the only person who makes you feel this much, to make you smile, to make you laugh," he leant in closer, his face being barely illuminated by the street lamp, yet, you could see make out every little feature of his that you memorised. At that point, you knew it was happening, and there wasn't going to be any interruptions. You were determined for it to be that way. 

One of Jake's hands reached for yours that rested on the pavement ground, taking it into his and intertwining his fingers with yours. You could read his emotions through his eyes, every detail of his expression told an emotion he was feeling currently. Anxious, but also thrilled. There were the two of you who felt the same at least. Then, he said it, the thought you two were simultaneously sharing. 

"Can I kiss you?"

Finally.

You bit back a laugh and proceeded to do something you would've never dared to do until now. Without letting a second pass, you grabbed onto his shoulder clumsily and pressed your lips onto his, shutting your eyes with the feeling of your heart almost escaping your chest. 

Would it be cliche to describe the entirety as a breath of fresh air? It took a split second for Jake to actually process your lips on him then only proceeded to kiss you back with the equal amount of gentleness, want and desire. Although this wasn't your first time kissing him given that moment in the hockey arena, it was the total opposite. 

The initial shock and confusion disappeared immediately. Jake's hand travelled from the expanse of your cheek and disappeared into your hair. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss and Jake took that as a welcoming invitation. Safe to say you were about to think about this the whole night instead of falling asleep.

If there was a memory you wished to experience once more, it'd be this exact moment. The intoxicating touch of his and his familiar cologne scent that ingrained into your mind itself. You felt Jake smiling into the kiss seconds before pulling apart, the feeling of it made you experience overwhelming emotions that choked you, it was as if his smile was imprinted on your lips even after and you were unable to forget about it, instead, you craved it. 

No one told you how it'd go down after a kiss. You and him both were there staring at one another in a daze, seemingly thinking 'did this happen?'. Well, it did, and you were reeling from it.

You were sure your lipstick was smudged, not to mention, the red marks left on Jake's lips gave it away clearly. Neither of you dared to move away from each other, keeping the close proximity in between. The loud music playing from the inside of the house eventually became more apparent once you gained full consciousness from the disassociation post kissing. 

"I'm glad there's no cameras this time," Jake broke the silence, lighthearted and gentle with his words just as much as his kiss was. 

You snorted, nudging him a little with your elbow. "And I'm glad no one walked in on us,"

There wasn't a word exchanged, a knowing look in one another's eyes which you read, and from that, you and him burst out laughing. If it wasn't for the fits of laughter which distracted you, you would've already been exploding from the realisation of Jake keeping your hands interlocked. 

"If I have to be really honest with you right now, my heart is beating way too fast for it to be healthy. You're quite literally about the death of me," Jake said, completely stunned as he pressed a hand on his chest. He surely had a way with his words. "I could kiss you forever," there he's done it again, erupting butterflies in your abdomen.

"I'm not entirely objecting to that, so …" you shrugged playfully, meeting Jake's watchful gaze that was filled with nothing but softness and love. 

He let out an amused chuckle, squeezing your interlocked hand with his. "I'll hold you to that."

The night eventually ended a little over midnight. It was entertaining to watch the three of Jake's best friends slurring their goodbyes to you, stumbling around trying to keep their balance but giving up and crashing onto the couch. Jake decided to leave them be and drive you back, taking the extra mile to walk you up to your doorstep. 

"It was really fun tonight. Thanks for inviting me," you fidgeted with the sleeves of Jake's jacket that was draped around you, the quietness of the night only amplified your voices in the corridor.

"I'm glad you agreed to come and also helped me out on setting this up. I don't think I would've survived," Jake offered a lopsided smile, glancing down at the floor for a moment to hide his embarrassment.

"I'm happy to be of help," you were trying your best to contain your giddiness that was bubbling in your abdomen ever since your lips made contact with his. "I think Sunghoon will love his gifts … well, after he's sober,"

"He better likes it. I spent a shit ton amount of money on that jersey," Jake snorted, shaking his head, seemingly split between regret and indifference. "It's getting late, you should head on in,"

"Right, I should. Thanks for dropping me off, like always,"

"It's alright, I want to make sure you get home safe anyway," his heartwarming words definitely made your cheeks flush a tinge of pink, but you hid it away from him by fumbling with the lock of your door. Just before you could bid him the last goodbye of the night, he stopped you. "You forgot something," 

You tilted your head, eyebrows scrunched into a look of confusion. There was nothing you could think of that you've possibly forgotten. Wait, did he mean exactly what you were thinking of? You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smirk on your face greeting him. "You're so annoying,"

It was his turn to be confused, but unfortunately for him, you didn't take note of that in time and he was left dumbfounded. In a blink of an eye, you pressed a haste kiss on his cheek. Jake thought he was dreaming. Even until then, you were unaware that he was surprised and frozen in shock, or just the plain fact that you and him both had a small misunderstanding. 

"Goodnight, text me when you're home!" With that, the door slammed shut on his face before he had a chance to regain his composure and open his mouth to say something. He let out a breath of disbelief, his hand instinctively shot up to the spot where you placed a kiss on, grazing his finger faintly there. 

"I mean the jacket." He murmured to himself, still in a daze as he turned around to make his way back. 

He meant the jacket. 

Sunghoon's birthday party had definitely become a turning point for you and Jake's relationship. Ever since that night, the both of you were inseparable. To your friends, however, it was insufferable instead. But, there was something very big and blaring in front of your face: he hasn't made anything official … yet? You tried reassuring yourself. 

"You guys kissed, twice. He's not going to miss the chance of asking you to be his girlfriend officially. It's been almost a year," Wonyoung was pouring a drink that you needed from the amount of thoughts bugging you. Maybe going to a frat party was the least sane option of trying to take your mind off of it. "Think about it, for someone like him, he's surely thought about it before and he's probably planning something,"

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, considering. Wonyoung wasn't completely wrong, neither was Jake entirely dumb. "You're right, I'm probably thinking too much,"

Wonyoung threw her arm around your shoulders, leading you to somewhere less crowded. "It's completely valid, Y/N. I'd think the same. But don't worry, knowing Jake and how he's absolutely whipped for you, you'll be fine." 

Will you? Given the past failed situationships you had that led you on to thinking you'd have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas absolutely tainted your view on talking stages. Not that Jake was just a talking stage, he was more than that, more than the ones that did you wrong. But a scar was permanent nonetheless, it's just something you had to live with.

You eventually left Wonyoung's side to search for any bathrooms that were unoccupied, which ended up being a harder challenge than expected. A big frat house with many rooms, yet most of the bathrooms were either hidden away or occupied, just amazing. The narrow corridors were also another nightmare for you having to squeeze past drunk college kids or people making out, you didn't know which was worse. You wondered if your luck had somehow ran out when you accidentally bumped into someone tall, knocking his drink over in the middle of the corridor. 

"I'm so sorry!" You reached down to pick his cup up in panic, not knowing who the person even was until you stood up straight, the fog in your brain clearing up for you to realise the person was actually someone you knew. Speaking of past failed situationships, one was unfortunately standing before you there and then. The universe must be toying with you.

"Y/N?" 

Nevermind the cup, either of you were too stunned at the sight of one another to really care about it anymore. Song Eunseok. Anton's best friend from the rival school's hockey team, but also your past situationship and talking stage. How did Anton even acquire that many jock friends, you didn't know, neither did you want to. 

Anton was the one who set you and his friend up, thinking it'd be a good idea to get you back into the dating scene. Wrong. Turns out, his best friend ended up being a total asshole that reminded you to never trust Anton and his wingman abilities, particularly him and his jock friends. That was also the reason why you doubted Jake at the start, and you hoped you'd continue being wrong about him. 

"Hey," you murmured, unknowingly tightening your grip on the plastic cup. What was there to speak about anyway? The thing that happened between you and him ended sourly and it wasn't entirely the best memory for you to sit and talk about. "I'll get going now,"

"Wait," the sound of his voice after years of not hearing it in flesh made you stop in your steps, your eyes flickering up to stare at his face. 

"What?"

"You're not going to ask me why I'm here?"

You should be confused, he wasn't around here, neither did he go to your school to mix around with people that did. "I don't care," you answered bluntly, but truthfully, it was already predictable that he's only in town for a game against the school's team, that's all. 

He wasn't impressed by your indifference, clicking his tongue as he glanced away for a second. "I heard you're going out with Jake,"

"And?"

He threw his hands up in mock defence, that gloating look on his face was only making it more punchable as minutes ticked by. "I'm just trying to warn you,"

"Whatever it is, I don't care,"

"Really? You really don't care about him being known to switch between girls all the time? How he breaks hearts and plays with girls like you, really?" Eunseok practically sneered, watching the brave front you put on faltering. 

"What?" 

"Oh, you know, he's got a reputation for himself. A good boy facade with fuckboy tendencies, many girls fall for it, I can't believe you did too," he shrugged, the maliciousness evident in his gaze. "He's probably fucking with you for a while then he'll throw you to the side after, just like every other girls,"

You knew he was lying and trying to get into your head by spewing some bullshit, so why were you letting him do so? A part of you was aware that what he said wasn't true, but the other part of you let his words get the worst of you. It was as if all the horrid thoughts you had pushed into the back of your mind resurfaced and manifested into words that were thrown into your face, more ironic that they were uttered by the same man who was the blueprint of your problems with relationships. 

"Look, whatever hockey rivalry you have, I don't care, but don't bring his and my personal matters into this," you backed away from him, wishing the ground would just swallow you whole instead of having to face him. "God, you're still such an asshole after a long time." 

The last sentence from you was seethed out of your teeth before you whipped around to speed walk away. The adrenaline and anxiety redirected your attention away from the need to find the toilet, instead, you were searching for the front door in order to leave. 

"I need to leave," you gripped onto Wonyoung's shoulder, her smile formed into a frown once her eyes landed on your face, instantly sensing the red flags. "It's okay if you want to stay, I can go on my own,"

"But we took my car, I can't just leave you—"

"I'll find a way, I'll call a cab, whatever it is. It's fine, I'll be fine," you rubbed her shoulder assuringly, though you knew in reality, you were far from fine. 

"Are you okay? Y/N, I can leave with you, it's fine—" 

Wonyoung realised you were no longer keeping your eyes on her, but you were staring over her shoulder, dread evident in your features. Before she could open her mouth to question you, you were already inching away from her. "I'll text you when I'm home. Be safe!" 

Wonyoung was having a hard time keeping her gaze on you and grasping everything in general, she ended up following your line of sight, her frown deepened once it landed on what happened to be the root cause of your panic. Eunseok. By the time it clicked in her head, it was probably too late. You were out the door. 

A gush of the cold night air hit your face just as much as Eunseok's words did. They were circling around your mind endlessly, fighting the thoughts of you convincing yourself he was just a liar. But to a certain extent, some lies do have truths hidden in them. Could this be one of the cases?

It didn't help that the memory of what Anton said came flooding in, rubbing salt to the wound. Neither was it the perfect timing for Jake to come walking up towards you, looking ready to start his night of partying.

"You're here!" 

His voice broke you out of your trance, your feet halting just in time for his hands to hold onto your shoulders, the biggest smile greeting you. However, this time around, you couldn't bring yourself to reciprocate it, not when he reminded you of all the things you told yourself to not worry about. 

"You okay? Where's your friend?" Jake's smile faltered, the look of worry flashed across his face, his grip on your shoulders didn't budge.

You couldn't meet his eyes, releasing a shaky breath. "Tell me it isn't true," your voice came out quiet, the sound of your blood thumping in your system filled your ears. "He's lying, isn't he?"

Jake's face was leveled with yours, shaking your shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "What? Who?"

"You're not going to break my heart too, right?"

"What—Y/N, you're not making any sense. Did someone tell you that? Who was it?"

"It isn't true, right? Those stories of you playing with girls' hearts just like any other asshole would, I … never believed them, so they're lying, aren't they?" 

Jake's mouth fell agape, the words that were expected to spill never came, a dawning fall in his expression spoke more than it should've. "It is. It is true," you breathed out, letting it sink in, after all those times of not listening to the rumours of him, it ended up being real. A serial heartbreaker, Jake Sim, how cliche could it be? And how unfortunate for you to attract these types of guys over again. "I'm not one of them, am I?

"You're not, Y/N, never," his hold on you was relentlessly, you only felt smaller as seconds ticked by. "Those rumours were from ages ago, back before I knew you, before I had my break up. It's been years. I realised how much of an asshole I was and I changed my ways. You have to believe me,"

You did, you believed him. His actions over the months told you enough, giving you a chance to build a trust towards him. But after hearing basically a confirmation to those rumours from him and Eunseok, you were split in half, mind in a mess. Eunseok wasn't completely wrong, but you believed he was just trying to get to you with his scathing words, and Jake admitting to it wasn't exactly the ideal cherry on top. It was supposedly the past, wasn't it? Plus, Wonyoung's survey of information about Jake was something much more worth believing than your ex situationship.

"I believe you," you whispered out, choosing to tell the truth rather than making it into a bigger mess. You ran a hand through your hair, releasing a sharp exhale. "I think Eunseok was trying to stir a reaction from me,"

"Eunseok? Song Eunseok? He's playing against us tomorrow," Jake breathed out incredulously, swallowing a string of cusses. "Y/N, forget about him or whatever he said. I admit it, I was like that in the past, back when I didn't know any better. But I promise you, I'll never, ever break your heart," 

You felt guilty, guilty for letting the worst get to you, for putting the blame on the wrong person based on assumptions you made. Jake had always been an accepting person, and you were grateful for that. "I'm sorry for acting this way. I let my fears get to me after hearing things about you from Eunseok and you admitting to them. I was scared you'd turn out to be the type of guys I hated," you paused, taking a chance to breathe in deeply. "I just didn't want to be someone else's second choice again,"

You gave yourself a chance to be completely vulnerable with him, laying all your ugly truths for him. Embarrassed and distressed, those were what describes you at that moment. You hated the way you got heated up over nothing, letting your fears and emotions overwhelm you till the point where you couldn't think straight or rationally. Your mess of a mind was distracted once Jake pulled into his chest, engulfing you into a hug. 

"You'd never be a second choice to me, in fact, you're the only one in my life," His hand stroked your head, the side of his face resting on it. "I'm sorry for letting you feel that way, or not being there to punch that asshole square in the jaw. You're not just anybody to me, you're my best friend, my partner in crime, my everything. You don't understand how much and complete you make me feel. I wouldn't replace you for anything,"

The initial shock of the hug melted into relief, his warmth provided a sense of security along with his reassuring words. Your arms wrapped around his body, reciprocating the hug. "Thank you," you swallowed, letting yourself melt into his hold. Minutes passed with no words exchanged, just the two of you holding each other, yet, it expressed much more than words were required. You trusted him, you do, and you knew he wasn't the type of man Eunseok described, maybe in the past, but the present was where you're at currently, you knew he wouldn't try hurting you. You knew him.

The drive back to your dorm was sullen and weird. 'Weird' was definitely a way to put the whole aftermath into words. You had already settled whatever rift there was before getting into the car, but why didn't it feel right at all? You were scared you hurt him, and unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same. This only caused a slight tension, neither of you daring to reach out first at that given moment. 

That was when Jake reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and settling the interlocked hands on his thigh. As always, he was the first to mend the cracks. "I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself in the first place. I never knew,"

"I don't blame you. It was my fault for not speaking out on it either. I bottled it up until it got to me. People did warn me about your past, about your old ways, but I trusted you, I knew you wouldn't hurt me," you gave his hand a squeeze, more to reassure yourself. "I just can't believe I let Eunseok get the worst of me,"

"He's just a total asshole. It's okay, I understand, I would've felt the same if I was in your shoes," there was a sigh that followed after. "Actually, what's the relationship between you and him? I never knew you two knew each other. Are you guys … friends?"

"Friends? God no. We're anything but friends at this point," your face twisted into a sour expression, the thought of being friends with a guy like him made your stomach churn in the worst way. "Long story, but Eunseok is Anton's friend, they go way back. Anton being the wingman that he claims to be, he set me up with Eunseok. We were never official, but we were more than just friends at one point. I thought he'd ask me to be his girlfriend officially since everything was going good, but he ghosted me and got with another girl after," 

Explaining your past with Eunseok was another type of reliving the bad memories. The time you spent on that man was not worth it. "Which explained why I became wary of Anton's friends. All the ones he's introduced me to ended up being the same variant as Eunseok, and that also instilled a paranoia when I agreed to try things out with you,"

Jake kept his eyes focused on the road ahead, but his raised eyebrows that were almost touching his hairline was enough to show his surprise. "Wow," he breathed out, seemingly digesting it in. "Are all Anton's friends assholes? Am I an asshole?"

You rolled your eyes at him even if he didn't catch onto it. "Luckily for you, you changed and they didn't. I'm pretty sure most of them stayed the same, Eunseok is basically a living proof of that theory. You and your friends, however, aren't like that from the beginning, which is why I like you guys,"

"I thought you only liked me?" Jake finally glanced at you, among the hint of playfulness in his gaze, there was also a warmth of understanding. 

You stifled a cackle, choosing to let out a laugh out of impressed disbelief. "Don't need to be so full of yourself, hot shot."

It was his turn to laugh. The sweetest melody of his laughter had you smiling unknowingly. It was always the simplest things about him that made you happy. You wished for it to stay as such for a long time.

By then, it became a normal habit for Jake to walk you up to your doorstep, neither of you questioned it anymore. This time, however, things didn't leave at the doorstep.

"My roommate's at her boyfriend's place for the weekend," you started, the question which came next was unexpected. "Do you … want to stay over?

A single question to change the whole trajectory of your relationship to develop into something deeper. Jake couldn't bring himself to say 'no' to your offer, his hands were still in yours, most importantly, those pairs of eyes staring back at him made it hard to reject. 

There you were, making your way over to your room carefully through the darkness of your living room, passing by the flowers he gave that sat in the vase. There were little parts of him in your shared dorm that consistently reminded you of him and his presence. 

Never in a million years would you have predicted Jake being next to you in bed. The stillness of the night air engulfed the two of you, not a word shared, but the intertwined hands between you and him was reassuring. There was nothing else that would have replaced this moment of your back against his chest, feeling the palpitations of his heart as you drifted off to sleep, unaware of Jake's fluttering eyes, sneaking occasional glances at you. 

"I'm undeniably in love with you." He muttered against the top of your head as he pressed a haste kiss. 

Jake couldn't see you, and he didn't know you were still half awake, listening in on his whisper. There was a smile that settled on your lips, the intertwined hand felt heavier than usual, just as your heart did, filled with an immeasurable amount of love for the first time in your life. What has he done to you?

One bed, two idiots in love, helplessly pining onto each other with an overwhelming amount of love that the other didn't know. Only an imminent happening would be the catalyst for one of you to break. 

Having to explain to Wonyoung at nine in the morning that you and Jake didn't do anything weird the night before was a pain in the ass. It wasn't the right timing for Jake to leave just as Wonyoung showed up at your doorstep, an arm outstretched ready to press the doorbell but stopping in motion from the shock of seeing you and him alone in the apartment. 

"You didn't leave early yesterday to fuck Jake, right?"

"I didn't fuck him at all," you seethed, glaring at Wonyoung for sayinh that the hundredth time. "I coincidentally ran into him and he brought me home,"

"And … he stayed over?"

"He stayed over," you confirmed, a little more timidly. "But we didn't do anything, okay?"

"Okay," she said as she took a sip out of her cup, an edge of doubt in her voice that you didn't miss, but chose to ignore. "Enough of Jake. What happened yesterday? Everything wasn't right,"

A sigh left your lips unconsciously, the thought of having to relive the whole nightmare of a fiasco by summarising it to Wonyoung was a dread. If only she could peek into your mind and memories. Nevertheless, you gave her a brief summary of what happened, from A to Z until the part where Jake ended up in your bed (that wasn't exactly how it meant to sound).

"Eunseok said that to you? He had the nerve to say that when he's literally what he's accusing Jake of? The audacity," Wonyoung was visibly fuming, pinching the tip of her nose bridge. "I hope Jake beats his ass today," she frowned, then added, "figuratively, can't have him suspended again."

For the rest of the day, you stayed home with Wonyoung by your side, waiting for the time of the game to arrive. You never knew they streamed the games online until Anton came over to set up the stream, bringing along a huge box of pizza while he's at it. On the couch in the living room, the laptop sat next to the flower vase, the commentator's voice filling the silence of the space. 

"Remind me to never set you up again," Anton mumbled through his mouth full of pizza, looking thoroughly guilty and apologetic once you and Wonyoung ran through the whole incident that he missed. "I'll cut him off … and probably a lot of them. But hey, at least Jake's a success, eh?"

Wonyoung reached over to deliver a slap on the back of his head, earning a grunt of annoyance from him. "Don't jinx it, failed cupid."

Seeing Jake on the mini laptop screen was much different compared to actually being there in person. The game was starting soon, you hoped your good luck would manifest into reality too. Each glimpse of Jake only made you both anxious and relieved, how contradicting. It was as if the cameraman knew the tension between Jake and Eunseok, occasionally panning to Jake then Eunseok.

The start of the game was relatively civil. However, there was no denying the ongoing hostility Jake had towards Eunseok. The 'accidental' slams into Eunseok, they were obviously on purpose. There was nothing out of hand just yet, but it was apparent that something would soon stir. 

"He needs to calm down," Anton murmured mostly to himself at the end of the second period, the home team drawing with the opposition. You silently agreed with him, watching as Jake's teammates hit his shoulders with some knowing looks. 

Third period was when things started getting rough. It wasn't a tense rivalry without the occasional fouls, especially when both teams were stuck on a draw, trying their best to crawl out of the game with a win. Jake stood out the most. His assists were helpful to the team, but given his continuous hostility towards the oppositions, particularly Eunseok was going to cost him something. 

The worst and unimaginable that everybody was expecting eventually came to life. The frustration in the atmosphere was felt even through the screen. Eunseok slammed his side onto Jake, but it didn't stop just there. Jake retaliated by grabbing onto Eunseok's collar, ripping his helmet off and throwing a punch across the latter's face. Both men's helmets were on the ground, gloves off and sticks flung to one side. 

The whole thing was a mess. Players stopped in their tracks to pull the two off of one another, there was a circle surrounding the fight, doing whatever they could to stop it. Even after they were pulled away from each other, the aftermath wasn't a good sight. Both players were bleeding and injured, to top it all off, a suspension was immediately issued to Jake. 

"Is this the time to switch the stream off?" Anton broke the silence in the room, the three of you meeting each others' gazes with an obvious 'oh no' on your faces. Oh no indeed.

You actually didn't know what happened after. Anton did, in fact, switch the stream off while you raced to text Jake with full worry. He wasn't responsive, so you gave him his space to let his anger cool off. In the meantime, you paced around despite your friends' reassurance that didn't help much. You weren't feeling much better even after they left, glancing at your phone way too often while praying your screen would lit up with a notification from Jake.

The evening sunset pierced through your curtains, dawn eventually made its appearance. It had been a long hour of waiting for Jake, no matter how you tried to shake the dreadful feeling, it was hard to fully ignore it. It almost felt like forever until your doorbell rang. The sinking feeling was back.

Your footsteps thud loudly against the floor, ripping the door open by its handle, meeting Jake's injured face that carried a lopsided smile, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Are you disappointed in me?"

He was about to be the death of you, in the worst possible way. You said nothing at first, walking closer, and caught him by surprise when you threw a punch at his shoulder, then again. "You asshole! You disappeared on me and ignored my texts. I thought something went wrong," 

He got a hold of your wrist, stopping you mid punch. "I forgot how painful your punches were," he tried to lessen the tension, offering a reassuring smile at you, but you only reciprocated with a frown that caused his smile to falter. "I'm sorry. I really am. I should've called you immediately after, but … I needed to cool down. I was too stuck in my head,"

"I figured, I understand," you pressed your lips into a thin line, releasing a deep sigh, you couldn't blame him either.  "Why did you do it?"

"He was a jerk," Jake said plainly, although it was already a full explanation on its own, you couldn't help but shake your head at it. 

"You shouldn't've used violence to get back at him,"

"I know,"

"You're suspended for the next game,"

"I know,"

You let the words sink in for a short moment, pursing your lips, then breathed a deep sigh through your nostrils. "Does that mean you'll be free to be my partner that day? I need someone to watch the game with,"

The initial disappointment in his face disappeared, turning into a much more hopeful expression. His eyes visibly lit up, face beaming. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"I am,"

"Then I have something to ask too," Jake's voice slightly trembled at that, it was something that didn't go unnoticed by you. He extended the hand that held onto the bouquet, the most nervous smile you've seen on Jake was plastered on his face. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

There was something electrical that coursed through your veins, it could be pure shock or adrenaline. Your mind was currently short circuiting, a mix of relief, happiness and disbelief eere clogging your head to form a coherent thought. But your answer was forced through in the end, you had to push it out no matter what. 

"Yes,"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jake. I'd love to be your girlfriend. In every lifetime if that matters," your lips twisted into the biggest smile, it was hard to resist laughing at the shock in Jake's reaction. He must've expected the answer already, but he still couldn't hide the surprise from hearing the word 'yes'. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me,"

A rush of relief flooded his prior expressions, the littlest grin adorned his face. It was as if everything happened on cue. You grabbed the bouquet from him and next thing you knew, he used his other hand to pull your forearm, causing you to stumble into him, then there it was, his lips on yours. Out of everything, this was unexpected.

"Ouch," he winced, the small yet fresh wound on the edge of his lips being a deterrent for a second, but he was not going down like that. 

Jake tilted his head to angle his lips better, deepening the kiss and avoiding the cut at the same time. Kissing him this time was much different from the rest. This time after his long awaited question, it seemed the built up of emotions were poured into this single kiss alone. Unimaginable, that was the only way you could describe how you felt. The rollercoaster of emotions and the twist in your gut, it was your first time feeling this way. In love, that was it.

Pulling away from each other was something neither of you wanted. His forehead was resting against yours, his minty breath fanning on your lips, the dorkiest grin displayed. The two of you kept your hold onto one another, not daring to make a single move. 

You met his eyes, reading the secret love messages hidden in his brown irises that he held onto tightly. "So, do you accept my date?"

Jake leaned his head back, unimpressed. "What do you think? I already gave you my answer," there it was, his typical smirk that told you he had another idea in mind. "Want me to give you a more concrete answer?"

He didn't allow you a chance to answer when he leaned in to kiss you again, a much shorter and brief kiss. But, you got your answer, and an endearing smile that you couldn't wipe off no matter what. 

"Stop being cheesy and get your ass inside to get your wounds treated. An infection will hurt," you pushed his chest lightly, visibly flustered from his actions that he took pride in. He only threw his hands up in defence before obediently crossing the threshold. 

"Don't cry when I apply the ointment,"

"This isn't my first day at the job."

On the contrary, he actually whined a lot. You learned to put up with it despite the several attempts to force him in place. Did that confident man just turn into a whole baby? Absolutely. The bruises on his knuckles, an ugly cut on both his lips and cheek didn't phase Jake at all, he stayed proud at the fact that he got the chance to land a punch on Eunseok' face. Even though you shook your head in disapprovement, secretly, you were satisfied. 

At the end of the night, you didn't think Jake would end up staying over again, but it happened inevitably. He took the advantage of your absent roommate to spend as much time there with the freedom to lounge around. Was he there for you or your bed?

Either way, being in his presence and having his arms wrapped around you in your sleep was something you wouldn't complain about. If this was a privilege you got to enjoy every night, you would count it as a blessing you were never letting go. In his arms, you found a home you would go back to without a doubt.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was grinning like the biggest fool every now and then when he stole glances at you. To him, you were the brightest star in his dark sky. After all, you had been the person who stayed in the back of his mind from years ago till then.

It might've been fate, or it might've been plain coincidence when it came to the two of you meeting. Whatever it was, all roads led you to each other. That was inevitable. 

There you were, sitting in the stands of the hockey arena, seemingly back to square one all over again. 

Everything around you was giving you deja vu but in the best way. Jake was sitting next to you, also suspended like the last time you were in this arena with him beside you. This time around, it was much different than before. He was no longer a stranger that you had one too many encounters with, instead, he was your boyfriend and best friend that you wouldn't dare trade anything for. 

"You know what?" Jake turned to look at you with a questioning glance, to which you raised your eyebrow at. 

"What?"

"I don't regret getting suspended. I got to punch that jerk and spend time with you here, I think it's pretty romantic," he had a prideful smile as he placed your interlocked hands on his lap. 

"I can't tell if I should be charmed or not," you held back a laugh, squeezing his hand while shaking your head. "Modern day romance, how cute,"

"Isn't it?" He replied shortly, averting his attention to the jumbotron, the unmistakable 'KISS CAM' was displayed on the screen as it searched for its next pair of victims once more. 'Look, it's the kiss cam again,"

You followed his line of sight, recalling the time you were once on it with Jake. That felt almost just yesterday. "I doubt it'll land on us again,"

A faint smirk on Jake's telling looks showed that he thought otherwise. "Why? Scared to kiss me?"

"So scared," you responded dryly, a tone laced with sarcasm that had him smiling as well. 

"Is it bad to say I want a cameo on the kiss cam with you again?" He pursed his lips, staring back at you with a tinge of guilt at his own confession. "I just want an excuse to kiss you,"

"You don't need any excuse to kiss me, idiot," you rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours. "Admit it, you're just an attention freak, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he choked out a laugh that got you doing the same. 

As if on cue, the jumbotron screen had moved on from the previous pair, choosing the next one: you and Jake. Must the universe listen to Jake? Unlike last time, Jake didn't have a hat to hide his identity, so once people noticed it was the team's star player, the roar of the crowd only grew tenfold. 

"You see," you wished to wipe off the cheeky smirk on Jake's face, the one that he always had whenever he was right about something. "Come on, sweets,"

Despite receiving an eye roll out of annoyance from you, your smile proved something else. Without a word from you, you grabbed onto his face, pulling him in to place a quick kiss, definitely not having a full makeout session in front of the cameras. From the sound of the crowds' cheers and Jake's satisfactory smile, you could tell everyone had eaten this moment up, even Jake himself whose reddening ears were giving him away. 

"Look who's blushing!" You pointed at the clear evidence of his reddening skin, but he could only respond with an embarrassed cough.

"No, I'm not,"

"Don't lie, Jakey. You're shy," you looped your arm around his, then rested your head on his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with that anyway,"

"I know," he whispered, pressing the side of his face on the top of your head. "I love you, sweets," 

You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze just in time for him to see the shock evident in the twist of your facial expressions. "What's with the sudden three words?"

He shook his head, pursing his lips a little. "Nothing, just telling you how I feel. I love you," he repeated once more, the effect of the eight letter word piercing through your heart, especially when it came straight from him. 

A soft, affectionate smile settled on your lips, your eyes still glued to his face. "I love you too, Jake." 

A kiss on your forehead was his reply, a simple action spoke much more than a million words could. An overwhelming wave of emotions gripped onto you just then, just as you tightened your hold on his arm at the feeling of those emotions. It was love, a special kind of love that you built to have with him and him only. 

There in that arena, you shared your first unofficial kiss with Jake, leading to a blossom of events that eventually led you to this exact moment, where you had your second kiss in the stands, this time being something more than strangers or even best friends. Lovers, eternal companions, that was what you were. All it took was to break the ice with a punch, then a kiss to fall in love. 

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

[stylesispunk]

'The other side of the door'

Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is giving you the silent treatment until you come back home hurt, and he wasn't there.

w.c: idk.

warnings: angst, miscommunication, mentions of a broken arm, fluff.

a/n: this is me after having an outburst about not writing again. If this flops I will have another one and I'll take a break forever. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

It was 2 a.m., and you were sobbing on the cold bathroom floor like a little girl, asking for her mother to kiss the tears away. The pain on your now broken arm was unbearable, but the stillness in your heart was worse, enveloped in a shirt that belonged to your brother-in-law instead of your boyfriend because he didn’t pick up the phone after the officers called him.

Instead, Tommy picked you up, rushing to you the moment he saw you by the ambulance with a sling around your left side and a bandage on your forehead.

“Oh my god! Are you okay? Where is Joel?” He said something, touching your face for some sort of answer, but you stopped listening to him after Joel’s name was mentioned.

“I don’t know where Joel is.” You said it monotonously.

Tommy's face paled as he realized the gravity of the situation. "It's going to be alright; we'll find him," he said, though his voice trembled with uncertainty.

“He didn’t pick up the phone,” you said again. “He hasn’t talked to me in a week, Tommy.”

“My brother can be grumpy sometimes; you know him,” he said, trying to find a way to make you smile, but you felt just ashamed.

You didn’t mean to be hit by a car on the on the way home, but everything happened so fast, and your mind was everywhere but focused on the road ahead of you.

“What if I call him?” he offered.

“He turned off the phone after my call,” you said, standing up slowly with the help of the paramedic.

Tommy helped you into the backseat of his truck, making sure you were secure before he slid into the driver’s seat. The drive to your house was quiet, save for your occasional wince of pain and Tommy’s sighs of worry. He kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror, his concern evident.

Once home, Tommy guided you inside, supporting your weight gently. He settled you on the couch and handed you a glass of water. "You need to rest," he said softly. "I’m sure you both will figure this out in the morning."

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. The pain in your arm was a constant reminder of the accident, but the ache in your heart was a dull, persistent throb. You clutched Joel’s shirt tighter around you, its familiar scent providing a small comfort.

“Do you want me to stay here and beat him once he arrives?” He asked jokingly, making you smile for a mere second.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” you said, managing a weak smile despite the situation. “But thank you, Tommy.”

He chuckled softly, sitting down beside you. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Joel can be stubborn, but he loves you. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but sleep was still a distant hope.

Tommy stayed with you for a little while longer, making sure you were comfortable. He adjusted the pillows around you and tucked the blanket more securely. "You should get some sleep," he said gently. "I'll stay until you do."

You nodded, too tired to argue, but you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. You tried to focus on the comforting presence of Tommy, the warmth of Joel's shirt, and the hope that things would be better in the morning.

Eventually, Tommy rose from the couch. "I'm going to head out now. You can call me if you need anything, okay?"

You managed a small nod. "Thanks, Tommy. I really appreciate it."

He gave you a reassuring smile, though the worry never left his eyes. "Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning." He squeezed your shoulder gently before heading to the door.

You listened to the sound of the door closing and the silence that followed. The house felt impossibly quiet and empty. The weight of the evening pressed down on you, and tears welled up in your eyes again.

There was Joel’s shirt on the couch, and you clutched it tighter with your left arm, breathing in the faint scent of him. The memories of the accident replayed in your mind—the screeching tires, the impact, the confusion. But what hurt the most was Joel’s absence, his phone turned off, and the uncertainty of where he was or why he hadn’t answered.

You stood up, walking upstairs towards your and Joel’s bedroom, but instead of lying on the bed, you walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind you, and slid down, sitting on the floor. Tears began to flow down your cheeks.

Joel wasn't home. Now that you needed him, he was out somewhere, still avoiding you.

You sat on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the door, and let the tears flow freely. The pain in your arm was nothing compared to the ache in your heart. You felt abandoned, hurt, and utterly alone.

As the minutes passed, you lost track of time, consumed by the overwhelming sadness. The sound of your sobs echoed off the tiled walls, and you didn’t hear the faint sound of a key turning in the front door or the footsteps on the stairs.

Joel moved through the house with a growing sense of urgency, the emptiness and silence amplifying his fear. It wasn't until he stepped inside the bedroom that he heard you wiping from the bedroom.

Gently, he opened the door and saw you sitting on the cold floor, clutching to your own arm and sobbing uncontrollably. The sight broke his heart, and he immediately kneeled beside you, his presence startling you from your sorrow.

"What the hell happened?" he asked softly, ignoring your plea. He didn’t understand why you were this hurt when, in the morning, you were perfectly fine.

"Go." You whispered, ashamed of yourself for being hurt and crying.

"Now you want to talk?" you asked, standing up carefully and using the wall for support.

Joel reached out to steady you, his touch gentle but firm. "Please, just tell me what happened," he said, his voice filled with concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I was hit by a car on my way home. It happened so fast, and I was so scared. The officers called you, but you didn't answer. Tommy came instead."

Joel's face paled, his eyes widening with shock and guilt. "I had no idea. My phone died, and I was out of town.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt and anger you felt couldn’t be ignored. "You haven't talked to me in a week, Joel. I needed you, and you weren't there."

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you because of it. Please, let me make it right."

You looked at him, and the regret was evident on his face. It mirrored your own feelings, and slowly, the anger began to melt away, replaced by a longing for things to be better. "I just needed you," you repeated, your voice trembling.

Joel took a step closer, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm here now. I promise, I’ll never let you down again.”

"You didn't seem to care about me for the last week, Joel."

"Lo—"

"Don't you dare call me that now. I'm mad at you," you interrupted, your eyes flashing with anger.

Joel looked stricken, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right words. "I know I messed up. I know I've been distant, and I'm so sorry. But please believe me, I do care about you more than anything."

You took a step back, needing space to think and process everything. "If you care so much, why did you ignore me? Why did you shut me out over missing dinner?"

His heart broke at the sight of you, staring away from him with dried tears on your cheeks. He didn't have words left to make this better, nor a way to ask for forgiveness or soothe your heart after breaking it without real intention behind it.

He was angry at you for missing the dinner, and he wanted to get it back at you.

But this? This wasn't what he wanted.

"I can't say how sorry I am," Joel continued, his voice cracking.

"Well, don't say it then," you snapped back.

"Love—"

“No! I'm tired, and everything hurts. My arm is broken, and I feel so humiliated right now. I just want to go to sleep,” you cried out, the words pouring out in a torrent of emotion.

"Okay, let me help you,” he said, reaching out to touch your shoulder, but you stepped back from him.

"No, everything you have done for the past week makes me cry," you said, the weight of your words hanging in the air. "You make me cry," you sobbed into your hand, trying to sweep the tears away.

Lifting your gaze, you looked at Joel, who seemed to be conflicted. His brown eyes, now glassy with unshed tears, almost made you give in.

"Could you please sleep in the guest room tonight?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's face fell, but he nodded slowly, understanding the need for space. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be in the guest room. If you need anything, anything at all, just call me."

You nodded, too drained to respond further. Joel hesitated for a moment, then turned and left the room, the weight of his footsteps heavy on the floor. As he reached the bedroom, he turned towards you.

“Do you want to know why I was so mad at you for missing that dinner?” He asked, his voice low and filled with a mix of regret and vulnerability.

You looked at him, the exhaustion and pain making it hard to process everything, but you nodded slightly, curious despite yourself.

Joel took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “It wasn’t just about the dinner. It was because I had planned to ask you to marry me that night.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. You stared at him, the weight of his confession taking a moment to sink in. You felt your heart beating so fast.

“Joel,” you started, your voice trembling. “I had no idea.”

“I know,” he said softly. “And that’s on me. I should have talked to you instead of shutting you out. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry for everything.”

The revelation left you feeling even more conflicted. The pain of the past week, the accident, and now this. You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply nodded, feeling the tears welling up again.

Joel took a step back, giving you space, but not without planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, just next to the bandage. “Goodnight,” he said gently, before turning and walking to the guest room.

After that, you lay down, clutching Joel's pillow tightly against your chest, the familiar scent providing a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. As you closed your eyes, the weight of the day slowly began to lift.

The night dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. You tossed and turned in bed, unable to find comfort. The weight of Joel's confession and the emotional turmoil of the past week kept you from sleeping peacefully. The silence of the house was deafening, and the pain in your arm felt almost secondary to the ache in your heart.

Around 3 a.m., unable to bear the loneliness any longer, you decided to go to the guest room. Moving slowly and carefully, you made your way down the hallway, each step mindful of your broken arm. The pain was a constant reminder of the day’s events, but the burning desire to be near Joel overpowered it.

You opened the guest room door quietly, the creak of the hinges making you wince slightly. Joel was lying on the bed, his back turned to you. You carefully slipped into the room, trying not to disturb him too much. The guest bed was slightly too small, but you managed to settle in beside him, positioning yourself so as not to jostle your arm too much.

Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked, his gaze shifting to you. Confusion and surprise crossed his face as he saw you lying next to him. He sat up, pushing himself on one elbow, his brow furrowed in concern.

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You shifted slightly to face him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t sleep... I needed to be close to you.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he reached out carefully, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Are you okay? Does your arm hurt?”

“It hurts,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I just needed to be near you, to feel like everything might be okay.”

Joel nodded, understanding the depth of your need. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said again, though his tone was gentler this time. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll do everything I can to make it right. Please, just let me be here for you.”

You reached out and took his hand, feeling curiosity creeping up. “About the proposal,” you began. “Are you planning to ask me soon?”

Joel's eyes softened, and he looked at you with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. “I was planning to ask you that night,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with regret. “But now I don’t feel like I deserve you.”

You searched his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

Joel took a deep breath, his expression serious yet tender. “Now, I want to make sure we’re in a good place before I ask you. I want it to be right, and I don’t want to rush into it just to fix things. But I can’t deny that I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

You smiled softly in the darkness, your heart swelling with emotion. “I would love for you to ask me now,” you whispered.

Joel chuckled softly, a sound that was warm and comforting in the quiet of the night. “Even with the broken arm?” he asked, his voice light with affection.

You nodded, your smile widening. “Even with the broken arm, I know we have things to work through, but I’d still say yes.”

Joel’s laughter was gentle, filled with relief and affection. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Alright, then. I promise that when the time is right, I’ll ask you properly. For now, let’s focus on getting better and being here for each other.”

You nestled closer to him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t need a fancy proposal in a fancy restaurant, Joel. I just want you,” you said softly.

Joel’s expression softened even more, his hand gently stroking your hair. “And you have me,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “No matter what, I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together, and when the time is right, we’ll take the next step together too.”

You let out a small, playful sigh. “Okay, if there isn’t a ring on my breakfast tomorrow, I’ll be mad,” you joked, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Joel laughed softly, the sound a comforting balm to your troubled heart. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his tone light but warm.

He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and sincere. “So, would you like to marry me?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for a response.

The question hung in the air, tender and unexpected. You looked at him, your heart swelling with emotion. The warmth and love you felt in that moment made it clear that you were ready to take that next step.

With a smile that spoke of both relief and joy, you nodded. “Yes, Joel. I would love to marry you.”

Joel’s face lit up with a mixture of happiness and relief. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness to avoid hurting your broken arm. “I’m so glad,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll make it work, I promise.”

You snuggled closer to him, the sense of security and love filling you with a peaceful calm. As you closed your eyes, the laughter and playful banter gave way to a hopeful, contented sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his presence and the promise of a future together.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Sometimes A Bride | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

part two of Always A Bridesmaid

Synopsis: You’re having some pre-wedding jitters and there’s only one person you know can help calm you down.

or

You and Jake sneak off for a quickie before the two of you say ‘I do.’

WC: 11.5k (another long one oops)

warnings: a smidgen of angst?, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, slight overstimulation, i think jake calling reader a good girl deserves a warning, unspecified age gap (reader is in around mid-late 20s, jake is in early-mid 30s), once again jake being too damn charming for his own good, tonssss of disgustingly sweet tooth-rotting fluff, really sweet fluffy moments with big bro bradley, natasha being the best sister-in-law and maid of honor, jake still being an absolute menace, i'm literally the worst at coming up with titles for my fics, moodboard is not any indication of reader’s appearance

a/n: The very long-awaited (I’m sorry 🤍) sequel to Always a Bridesmaid. Thank you so much to everyone who’s stuck around and shown the first part so much love and support, and waited so patiently for this story! I love y’all 

beautiful dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

〰・♡・〰 reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated! 〰・♡・〰

You love weddings. 

It's a fact you try to remind yourself of as you take a deep breath, taking in your reflection in the vast vanity mirror.

Hair styled to pristine perfection, professionally done makeup better than anything you’d ever be capable of doing yourself, in a gorgeous white dress that fits just right and makes you feel more beautiful than ever.  

You love weddings. You love the fancy clothes, all the chatter and the sweet scent of champagne flowing through the air at the reception, the contagious laughter and dancing.

But, most of all, you love getting to watch two people profess their love for each other and promise themselves to one another for the rest of their lives through beaming smiles and tears of joy. 

It’s been a little over three years since Bradley and Natasha said ‘I do’, and after meeting the love of your life at your big brother’s wedding, how could you not love them? 

Three years since that fateful night that you met Jake and both of your lives were changed forever, and the two of you have been pretty much inseparable ever since. Well, nearly ever since.

Initially, both you and Jake were scared by just how much you liked one another. 

After spending the night together at your brother’s wedding — and the morning after — you had feared that it was just that rose-colored haze of love in the air that comes along with weddings, and you wondered if that magical pixie dust was going to wear off eventually — and take your feelings with it. 

But it never did. 

Even at the beginning, back when Jake had tried to push down his feelings for you and said he couldn’t offer much more than no strings attached fun, ‘because I’m going to be away on deployments and dangerous missions all the time, and because you’re Bradshaw’s little sister.’ 

Because he ‘didn’t have time for anything serious’ – but really, because he was afraid of just how strongly he felt for you – even then, you were so drawn to him and Jake couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed spending time with you.

How he thought about you and that amazing night you’d spent together nearly every second of every day. 

From the moment he’d wake up in his boring, lonely apartment, to the hours spent in briefings or flying dangerous maneuvers in his F18, to the moment he’d go to sleep alone every night in his bed that all of a sudden seemed too big. 

And, what scared Jake the most was that it wasn’t just the sex – though, that was definitely a great part of it – that he yearned for. It was just you. 

You, with your bright eyes and your radiant smile, your melodic laugh and effervescent personality. You had quickly wormed your way into his heart and lit him up from the inside out. 

He no longer found himself wanting the mundane and meaningless hook-ups or one night stands that places like the Hard Deck had to offer, which had become routine for him since his time as a young pilot at Top Gun. 

You brought Jake’s world from dull grayscale to vibrant technicolor and he found that he just always wanted you around. 

He’d never felt that way about anyone before, and it terrified him.

You’d never wanted anyone so bad, and you were fearful that it wasn’t going to last. 

But, try as you might, the two of you just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other for long. 

Once Jake got his head out of his ass and he took you out on a few proper dates – which, naturally, ended in you fucking each other’s brains out a few more times – you both agreed to try to take things slow, because your feelings for each other were real and neither one of you wanted to mess things up. 

However, you quickly learned that there was no such thing as slow when it comes to you and Jake. Before you knew it, things between the two of you had become pretty serious, and you realized – much to your brother Bradley’s dismay, that the two of you share a very real connection. 

Through all of the ups and downs — triumphs and hardships, happy times and tears, the silly fights and even sillier make-ups that these past three years have brought the two of you. 

From going mad missing each other when Jake is away on deployments, up until his recent request for a more permanent position at Top Gun so he can be closer to home – closer to you –  you and Jake have stuck together through it all like super glue.

Three years of unconditional love and support, of growing and becoming better together, loving and living life with your best friend.

You’ve never been quite sure if you believe in the concept of soulmates, but if they do exist, you’re positive that Jake is yours.

And, you love weddings… so why are you currently freaking the fuck out, today of all days? Oh, right… because it’s your wedding day. 

You’re pretty sure that your vision is beginning to blur, your body growing a little dizzy as you watch the constant stream of people flitting all around you through the glass of the large vanity mirror.

Your bridesmaids chatter excitedly as they too work to finish getting ready, sipping from mimosas as they make their way into their dresses while Natasha – the best sister-in-law and best maid of honor you could ever ask for – helps to keep everyone focused and on schedule. 

She paces the room with her phone in hand, probably texting Bradley to make sure things are running smoothly in the groomsmens’ suite as well. 

There are at least three people at any given moment hovering around you like bees, fussing over your hair, doing last minute touch-ups on your makeup, and making sure there’s not a wrinkle in sight on the beautiful wedding gown of your dreams that you’re oh-so nervous for Jake to finally see. 

Not nervous because you’re worried he won’t like it – he’s told you plenty of times that he’d be more than happy to marry you if you were wearing a trash bag – but because this is your big day, the beginning of the rest of your lives together and you just want it to be perfect. 

After all the months of painstaking planning – from centerpieces to seating charts, the choosing the color of the napkins to the dinner menu and countless trials of cake flavors. From finding the perfect venue, to the best floral arrangements, and of course the dream wedding dress. 

After being so hyper-focused on this day for months, now that that day is actually here, you just need everything to be perfect.

Not even the two and a half mimosa’s you’ve had this morning have been enough to quell the stress currently coursing through your veins, and the buzz of the busy bridal suite is beginning to make your head spin. 

Between all of the running around you’ve done since waking up — way too early — this morning, the little bit of alcohol and all the commotion going on around you now, your face feels too hot, a tiny sheen of sweat beginning to shine through your makeup.

You can’t help but wonder if Jake is feeling this flustered right now too. Probably not, the man is cool and calm about just about everything; it’s one of the things you love about him.

As the makeup artist powders your nose for the fifth time in ten minutes in an attempt to tamper down the shine, you feel your resolve beginning to crack. You try to take in a deep breath to shake the nerves, but feel as though there’s not enough air in the room to fill your lungs and you find yourself feeling like you need to escape. 

As if she can sense your distress from all the way across the room, Natasha — ever the dutiful maid of honor — materializes behind you with a comforting hand on your shoulder, politely excusing the makeup artist and everyone else that’s currently milling around you, before meeting your gaze through the mirror with a gentle smile. 

Though, you know your sister-in-law too well and you can see the concern in her brown eyes.

“You okay?” When Natasha gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze, you close your eyes and heave out a deep sigh, grateful for a moment of calm. 

It’s in the same moment that you open your eyes and give her a nod and an unconvincing smile that there’s a knock on the bridal suite door just behind you, and you turn your head to find Bradley opening it a crack and peeking his head in. 

“Everyone decent?” Your older brother asks, meeting your eyes with a soft look and you swear you could cry.

Through all her running around to help make sure that your day is perfect, you’d seen Natasha on her phone and you figure that, always knowing just what you need, she must have texted Bradley – and that’s exactly what she did. 

Natasha had let her husband know that his sister was feeling some pre-wedding jitters and could use some reassurance that she knew you could only get from your big brother, and he immediately made his way from the groomsmens’ suite to come to your aid.

“Yeah, come on in!” Natasha calls out with one last squeeze to your shoulder before meeting Bradley at the door and greeting him with a quick kiss on his cheek.

She gently pushes him towards where you stand in front of the large mirror smoothing your hands over an invisible wrinkle on the flowy white skirt of your dress, before ushering the rest of your bridesmaids and everyone else to the other side of the large suite to put their finishing touches on their looks and give the two of you some privacy. 

You turn around to face Bradley, standing there in a classic black suit with a bow tie, and you could swear your brother gets a little misty-eyed as he takes in the sight of you in your lavish white dress, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mustached lips when he asks, “You okay, sis?”

You think about lying for a second and telling him that you’re just fine, but this is Bradley -– your big brother and self-appointed protector for all your life, even when you don’t always want or need him to be, and you know that he’d be able to see right through you.

Blowing out a small sigh, you carefully take a seat on the plush couch that sits in the nearest corner, making sure to arrange all the layers of fabric that surround your lower half in a way that they won’t become too wrinkled.

“Honestly… I’m kind of freaking out.” You tell your brother as he joins you on the sofa. Your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough that he’s able to hear due to his close proximity.

You’re looking down at where you nervously wring your hands in your lap when Bradley speaks. 

“Why? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” His words are matter-of-fact, but his voice is soft in that comforting, brotherly tone that’s only reserved for you.

“I- I don’t know.” You tell him with a light shake of your head. “I guess I’m just nervous?” 

The words come out as a question and your gaze lifts to meet Bradley’s before you continue on.

“You know, it’s such a big, important day that I’ve spent so long dreaming of and planning for and– that I’m going to remember for the rest of my life and I just…” your voice trails off as you realize you’re rambling, stopping to take a breath before you continue. 

 “I just love Jake so much and I… I just want everything to be perfect.”

Bradley takes in your frazzled expression, nodding in understanding. “You’re right, it is a big deal, and it’s totally normal to have some nerves.” 

The pensive look on his face shifts to one of what looks like amusement as he glances across the room to where his wife is chatting away with the rest of your bridesmaids, before leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. 

“I was scared shitless when I married Nat.” 

Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession, a small puff of laughter escaping your lips as you question him, “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” Your brother’s smile grows at the sight of your own, a quiet chuckle leaving him. “But, then I remembered that I was marrying my best friend and all of those nerves just sort of melted away.”

“Which is why you should believe me when I tell you–” Bradley reaches over to take your hands in his, his brown gaze warm as he speaks earnestly.

“It’s going to be perfect no matter what happens, because you and Jake will be together.”

Your lips can’t help but quirk up a bit at your older brother’s reassurance. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Bradley gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “In fact, I know so.”

“Because, I have never seen you happier than you have been these past few years since you’ve been with Jake.” That small smile never leaves his lips as he continues talking and your heart nearly melts in your chest at the sincerity of your big brother’s words. 

“It’s clear that the two of you love each other very much.”

You have to admit it’s a bit of a shock to hear those words from Bradley of all people – sure, things have gotten a lot better between your brother and your fiance over the years, but you’d still consider them frenemies at the best of times. 

You realize that you haven’t said anything in response, being too stunned to speak, when Bradley continues on with a knowing smirk on his face as he takes in your dumbfounded expression.

“Trust me, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea of you dating Jake in the beginning, but I see how much he cares about you. Above anything else.” 

You nod your head in agreement, but not without a laugh and a playful roll of your eyes. With your brother’s reassurance that everything would be okay so long as you and Jake are together, and the reminder of just how much your husband-to-be loves you, now you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face if you tried. “Yeah, he does.” 

Bradley takes in the lovesick smile on your face and tilts his head, raising a brow in question. “We feeling better now?”

“Yeah,” Feeling much more calm now, it’s your turn to squeeze Bradley’s hands, nodding happily at him before releasing them. “A lot better. Thank you.”

“Good.” Bradley stands, offering his hands to pull you up off the sofa as well, before pulling you into a hug. 

With a quiet instruction to ‘call me if you need me’, your brother releases you from his arms, venturing over to Natasha to place a small peck to his wife’s lips before making his way out the door and back to the groomsmens’ suite.

You really do feel a whole lot better, but all this talk about your fiancé and his love for you, and how truly, utterly happy he makes you, has you missing him. Yearning to be with him in this very moment, and you realize that the only thing that would really put your mind at ease is right now Jake himself. 

Jake’s head perks up as the door to the groomsmen’s suite opens for the second time in about fifteen minutes to reveal Bradley, adorning a tux matching that of all the other groomsmen. 

It’s still crazy for him to think about the fact that your brother, who was so adamant about you not seeing Jake all those years ago, would be one of the groomsmen at his and your wedding. 

“Where’d you disappear to, Rooster?” A relaxed smirk lifts up the corner of Jake’s lips as he fixes his tie in the mirror.  

“Just went to check on the bride-to-be.” Jake’s smile softens just a bit at the mention of you.

“You know, I never thought the two of you would last this long, so I had to check and see if my sister was ready to back out yet.” 

Bradley drops down onto the sofa next to Bob and Coyote, who are quietly snickering at his teasing of the groom. 

“Oh, ha-ha.” Jake’s smirk grows devilish at the joke, turning his sights on the mustached man ready to tease him right back. “Face it, Bradshaw. We’re gonna be brothers real soon.” 

Bradley only rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at his soon to be brother-in-law, a fact that Jake has made a point to remind him of, all the time, since the two of you got engaged a little over a year ago. 

“How is she, though?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the sincerity creeping into the blonde’s tone. 

“She’s good. Was just dealing with the usual pre-wedding nerves, but it’s all good now.” Bradley tells him honestly. 

Jake only nods in response, already retreating into his head, into his worry for you, causing your brother to speak up again.

“Jake, I promise, everything’s good.” Bradley reassures him with a small smile.

“Yeah… good.” Jake nods once more, making an attempt to paint the best smile he possibly can on his lips.

He’s not worried because he thinks that you might not want this, or him – he knows without a shadow of doubt just how vast your love for him is – but, because he knows how you get when you put your heart into something and that you’ll drive yourself crazy trying to get everything perfect.

Jake’s seen firsthand just how painstakingly you’ve worked to plan this wedding, all the months spent making sure that every little detail is just right. 

He knows that all of that time and stress, culminating to this one day, is likely weighing on your mind now that the day has finally come. 

And in this moment, Jake wants nothing more than to just be able to see you – to hold you and comfort you and let you know that everything is going to be just fine.

He knows the old superstition that the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony, but…

“Fuck it.”

The two words escape under Jake’s breath just before he’s shrugging on the jacket to his tux and quickly making his way to the door. 

“Where are you going, man?” Javy questions his best friend, drawing the attention of the rest of the Daggers — sans Phoenix who’s with you getting ready in the bridal suite — toward where Jake stands in the now open doorway, one hand on the knob and one foot already out in the hall. 

“Just gotta check something with the wedding planner. Be right back.” 

It’s not a total lie. Sure, you had forgone hiring a wedding planner and chose to do everything yourself — with the help of Natasha and Penny of course -— but that technically made you the wedding planner. The guys don’t have to know that.

Jake traverses the winding halls of the venue, the anticipation of seeing you building up as he walks briskly in his dress shoes until he finds a door with a paper sign that reads, ‘Bridal Suite’ in loopy, cursive lettering.

Taking a breath, he knocks on the door, and he’s lucky to find that a moment later, it’s you who answers.

“What-” Your eyes widen in surprise and you’re hardly able to get a word out as one of Jake’s hands grasps yours, swiftly pulling you out of the door and into the hallway with him. 

You don’t get a chance to finish your question, because within seconds your fiancé is practically sprinting down the long hallway, pulling you along with him with his large hand wrapped around your smaller one. 

You can't help but giggle at Jake’s antics as the two of you run through the halls, watching his free hand reach for a few knobs along the way only to find them locked, finally stopping when he finds a door that seems to be open. 

He quickly peers into the room just to make sure that it’s empty before gently pulling you into the dark space, lit only by the natural light that shines in through the windows, and closing the door. 

You're still laughing breathlessly when you find your words again, Jake’s own breathy chuckle mixing with yours in the quiet of the room.

“Wha— Jake? What are you doing, you’re not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony!”

“Screw that, my girl needed me.” His warm hand is still in yours, his free hand moving to clasp your other one. That emerald gaze that you’ve come to know so well bores into you as he smiles down at you lovingly.

Your eyes lift to meet Jake’s and it’s like any and all nerves just melt away.

You always feel safe when Jake is near and just the sight of him now, being in his presence, has a toothy grin making its way onto your face.

Another giggle escapes you, trailing off into a content sigh as you look up at the gorgeous man in front of you.

The two of you just gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and with a light shake of your head, your grin becomes coy. 

“Hi.” You find yourself whispering into the quiet of the room.

Jake lets out a chuckle, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling up in the way that you love when smiles at you. “Hi.”

Without letting go of your hands, Jake takes a step back to really take you in for the first time since breaking you out of the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. 

Finally getting a good look at you in your wedding dress that beautifully accentuates the shape of your body, your makeup done to perfection — though Jake doesn’t think you ever need it — and hair styled prettily but still flowing and free just the way he likes, renders your soon-to-be husband practically speechless. 

All he can say is, “Wow…”

You can hear the pure awe in that one word and can’t help but smile bashfully, heat rising in your cheeks. Jake’s compliments still manage to make you flustered, even after all this time. 

“Wow, yourself.” Your gaze sweeps up and down the length of his body, taking in the crisp black tuxedo and matching bow tie, and the white dress shirt underneath. Appreciating the way it fits him just right, how you’re still able to tell just how toned his body is even under the layers of clothing.

Jake’s hands tenderly squeeze your own, pulling you a little bit closer once again as his eyes search out your own. “You doing okay, honey?”

And though you were definitely feeling anxious before, you couldn’t be more content than you are now when it’s just the two of you, standing here holding hands with the love of your life.

“Yes,” You nod gently. “I’m just a little nervous.”

You look down at your joined hands before quietly continuing. “I just want this day to be perfect.”

“Hey,” Jake lightly swings your joined hands to get you to look up at him again, and when you do, you see that he’s still wearing that confident smile. “It’s going to be perfect because it’s all coming from you. And everything you do is perfect in my eyes.”

You have to bite back your giggle at his sentiment, in disbelief that this sweet man is soon going to be your husband.

“It’s going to be perfect because it’s us. Together.” You correct him with a playful grin. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jake’s hands leave yours, wrapping warmly around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug. Nestled in his embrace, your own arms wrap around his middle, your head moving to lean on his chest, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne as he leans his head on top of yours. “Together.”

The two of you stand like that for a few moments, wrapped snugly in each other’s warmth, Jake beginning to sway you just lightly as you breathe each other in.

It’s with your cheek pressed against his pec that you finally take a look around the room the two of you are standing in, realizing that it’s another suite similar to the one you had been getting ready in earlier.

“You know,” You lift your head from Jake’s chest to look up at him as you speak, a playful tone filling your words. “This feels oddly familiar to the night we met.”

“Sneaking off to a dark, empty room,” You continue with a growing smirk, arms unlatching from around Jake’s waist and pulling back just a touch, his own arms falling from around your shoulders. “Just the two of us.”

Your hands slide gently up Jake’s torso over the fabric of his suit jacket, up past his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. 

Jake’s gaze leaves you for just a moment to glance at the space around you. An airy laugh leaving his lips as his hands reach for your hips over the soft fabric of your dress to pull you a little bit closer, his green eyes falling back onto you. 

Faces just inches away from one another, the two of you share matching silly grins as you think back to the night of your brother’s wedding. A look of pure love and adoration passing between your eyes and his as you both absorb the fact that you’re here, three years later, at your own wedding. 

“Yeah, we’re just missing the champagne.” 

Jake softly brushes his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he leans in to connect his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. 

Tasting the remnants of the sweet mimosa on your lips, he hums against them before pulling back just slightly. “But it seems like you’ve already got that covered, Sweets.” 

The familiar nickname paints his favorite smile on your lips that has Jake diving back in for another kiss, this one deeper as his tongue dips into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of champagne and orange juice on your tongue.

His large hands pull you in closer by the waist as your fingers find the short blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, a groan falling from Jake’s mouth and into yours as your fingernails gently scrape along his scalp.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your body still responds to his touch after all this time; your knees going weak, and you’re practically melting into him as you feel wetness begin to pool in the skimpy, lacy white panties of your bridal lingerie that you’ve been dying to show Jake since you picked it all out a few months earlier.

The kiss quickly becomes more heated, lips slotting feverishly together as though one can only find much-needed oxygen within the other’s mouth, tongues swirling in a well-known dance and relishing in the familiar taste of one another. 

Jake’s hands are all over you, pulling your body flush against his as he sucks your bottom lip between the both of his. Your skin feels hot from his touch even through the fabric of your dress, and the realization of his quickly hardening length pressing against your hip has you mewling against him.

Jake pulls back from the kiss, his gaze still hungry, but you also catch the mirth in his eyes as he chuckles at his bride-to-be.

“Always so needy for me.” He slowly shakes his head with that classic, cocky Jake Seresin smirk that still makes you weak in the knees. 

“Me?!” You scoff, eyes wide as you look up at him incredulously, though you’re fighting back a smile because you know he’s right. 

“Well, I’d say someone is also pretty needy.” 

Your hand leaves the back of his neck to travel between your bodies to prove your point, reaching down to palm at his hard length through the fabric of his dress pants. Your brows raise in a playfully vindicated look that screams ‘I told you so’, as Jake lets out a groan at your touch. 

“Yeah, o-okay.” Jake’s chuckle is breathless this time as you cup your hand around him a little more firmly, grinning up at him and batting your lashes. “Always needy for you too, Sweets.” 

His hand wraps around your own to remove it from his bulge, already missing the friction as he brings your knuckles up to his lips in a sweet kiss before letting it go.

Before you even know what’s happening, both of Jake’s hands are reaching down to grip your thighs through all the layers of lace and tulle, a squeak emitting from your throat as he sweeps you off your feet and carries you over the nearest wall. 

“Jake! What are you-” Your arms circle around his shoulders, legs parting of their own volition to make room for him between them. Bracketing his hips as your back lightly hits the wall, the fabric of your dress all bunched between the two of you exposing your calves as he holds you in his strong grasp.

Large palms wrapped around the underside of your thighs, his weight pressed against your front and the wall at your back keep you upright as you giggle in your soon-to-be husband’s arms. 

Jake is beaming back at you, the adoration in his green eyes clear as they crinkle up due to his grin. 

“I love you, so much.” He lifts a hand up to your face, the backs of his fingers caressing along the soft skin of your cheek and Jake shakes his head as if he can’t believe that this is real, that you’re real. 

He leans in to press a soft, but dizzying kiss to your lips before murmuring against them, “I wanna show you how much.”

A part of you feels like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice, at just how well Jake loves you and how he’s never shy to make it known. 

But mostly, you just feel the white-hot pooling of arousal growing in your belly, your eyes glazing over with a look of both love and lust as you gaze back at him.

“Yeah?” You nod up at him in a daze, biting back a grin as you take in the hunger in those pretty green eyes. 

“Yeah.” He places a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes you whimper and you can feel his smile against your skin. “Let me show you.” 

You nod your head again, mind in a haze of want at the feel of his warm breath on your skin, your hands squeezing at Jake’s broad shoulders. 

Feeling the velvety-soft fabric of his black suit jacket beneath your fingers, it’s only then that you’re shaken out of your stupor and you remember where you are – what today is.  

“Wait-wait, Jake, we can’t!” Your fingers continue to absentmindedly play with the fabric covering his shoulder. We’re supposed to be getting married like… now.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the predicament you’ve found yourselves in, though it’s very unsurprising for you and Jake. 

Jake’s laugh mingles with your own as you begin to lightly shake your head, and you feel his strong shoulders shrug beneath your grasp as you watch his lips quirk up into a mischievous grin. 

“All our guests–” Jake interrupts your words with another quick peck on your lips, laughing at your stunned expression. 

“The guests…can wait.” He states matter-of-factly. “Can’t exactly have a wedding without the bride and groom, now can they, Sweets?” 

Jake’s smile is smug and you can’t fight the one materializing on your own lips as you continue to shake your head. 

“Besides, would we really be us if we didn’t sneak off to have sex at a wedding?” He finishes off the question with a kiss to your jaw before trailing his lips down the column of your throat, lightly nipping at the skin of your neck – careful not to leave a mark – before soothing it with his tongue.

Jake was right. It had happened the night you first met at Bradley and Natasha’s wedding, and had become a tradition of sorts for the two of you at every wedding you’d been to in the three years since – and there have been quite a few.

You can feel your resolve quickly beginning to crumble as Jake presses his hips more firmly against yours, his hard length pressing up against where you need him most, the friction not nearly enough through all the layers of fancy clothing. You’re already soaking through your panties for him and you know you’re a goner.

You drop your head onto Jake’s shoulder with a sigh, before looking back up at him through your lashes. 

“Fine, but we have to be quick.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you give in, but with the most stern tone you can muster and it only makes Jake laugh. 

“Ain’t nothing slow about me, sweetheart.” You can’t stop the snort that escapes you, or the playful roll of your eyes at his words, leaning up to kiss that stupid grin off of Jake’s face. 

“Please, just– just shut up and fuck me already, Seresin.” you manage to get out through your giggles.

“With pleasure.” Jake’s lips claim yours in a hungry kiss and you feel one of his big hands venture underneath the skirt of your dress, traveling up your thigh and past the frilly fabric of your white garter in search of your core.

When his fingers brush against the damp lace of your panties, you choke out a gasp against his lips and Jake pulls back to take in your expression — your brows furrowed in pleasure and eyes heavily hooded with need. His kiss-swollen lips lift up into a smug smirk as he feels how wet you are for him. 

Jake’s deft fingers press more firmly against that wet spot, rubbing along your seam through the damp fabric. You can’t hold back your whine, already writhing against him as his thumb finds your clit, expertly circling it through the lace. 

“So wet and I’ve barely even touched you.” He breathes out a laugh and there’s a hint of smugness to his words — because of course there, it’s Jake — but you can also hear the awe present in his voice, see it in his emerald gaze that burns into you lovingly and it makes heat creep up your cheeks.

His hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties and you and Jake groan in unison as his fingers make a few quick circles around your wet, swollen clit. 

Your head falls back against the wall behind you and Jake takes the opportunity to kiss at your neck again as his hand dips down further to collect more of your wetness. 

“Already all ready for me, Sweets?” Jake’s words are whispered next to your ear as his fingers graze your entrance, your hips bucking toward them of their own volition.

“For you, ahh–” Your words are cut off by a shaky moan as Jake slides two long fingers inside of you, up to the knuckle in one swift motion. Your breath hitches and you’re practically melting against him, your voice already sounding wrecked as you whimper for him, “Always.”

Jake groans at how easily your slick walls envelop his fingers, gushing with new arousal as he fucks them in and out of your tight hole to get you ready for his cock -– not that you really need much prep with the way you’re already soaking his hand.  

“Such a good girl for me.”

Your walls clench tight around his digits, from both the praise and the way he curls them inside of you, that coil in your belly quickly winding up. 

“Fuck- Jake!” He can hear the desperation in your plea of his name, can feel it in the way your hips chase his fingers each time he pulls them almost all the way out. You’re already feeling so close, but you’re needy for more. Need to be full of him. 

Your perfectly manicured nails dig into Jake’s bicep, the heel of your foot pressing into his backside in an attempt to pull him closer as you gaze up at him through your lashes. “Please, baby– need you.”

“I got you, honey.” 

Your chin falls against your chest and you cry out as Jake scissors his fingers inside of you a few more times before they retreat completely, leaving you clenching around nothing and keening at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

The hand that was in your panties begins to trail slowly back down your thigh, and though you can’t see it through all the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the trail of slick it leaves along your skin in its wake. 

As Jake clutches your thigh in his firm grasp to hold you more securely against the wall, his other hand moves to the tent in his tight trousers where his throbbing length has been neglected.

How he’s able to hold you up with one arm while the other hand unfastens his dress pants is beyond you, but it’s moments like this that you’re grateful to have a big, strong naval aviator for a husband-to-be. 

Jake pushes his suit pants and underwear down just far enough to finally release his cock and you can’t help but moan at the sight of it. Long and looking almost painfully hard, the tip red and angry and weeping with precum. 

Jake lets out a groan as he wraps a fist around his length, relishing in the friction as his hand moves along the shaft and works to spread the pearls of his arousal from his tip down to the base. 

His hand then leaves his cock to push up the skirt of your dress as far as it can go. 

Deft fingers pry the seat of your panties from where they stick to your slick-soaked core, and gingerly move the fabric to the side so he can access your dripping cunt before he grabs ahold of himself again.

Jake lines his tip up to your entrance and pushes in slowly, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that pushes the air out of your lungs, stealing your breath and leaving you dizzy with it as his tongue tangles with yours. 

Your hands glide up the soft, expensive fabric on Jake’s arms, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as you gasp and writhe against him. Relishing in the feeling of him all over you. 

His lips covering your own, short breaths mixing with yours as you both pant and moan into the frantic kiss. His strong body, solid as the wall behind you as his front presses taut against you to hold you up, his long cock pushing deep inside of you with every single thrust and leaving you feeling so unbelievably full of him.

Jake pulls back from the kiss and looks down to where the two of you are connected. His length glistening with your arousal as it moves in and out of your tight walls, your beautiful, intricate wedding gown all bunched around your hips as he fucks you, and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him when he thinks about how crazy this is.

“Wha-what’s so funny?” You ask breathlessly through kiss-swollen lips, your eyes that had previously been shut tight in bliss now opening to search out his green ones. 

“Just— this,” Jake’s gaze lifts to meet your eye as he continues to laugh, unsure if his brain is going fuzzy with pleasure, or if that’s just the intoxication of being with you. 

“My beautiful, perfect bride,” his hips slow just a touch, pressing forward in a particularly hard thrust that has you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders tighter, you and Jake moaning in unison before he continues, panting through his words.

“All a mess for me — fuck– right before we’re supposed to say ‘I do’ in front of all our family and friends– and pretty much everyone we know.”

Your eyes widen, lips tugging up into a bashful smile and you can’t help but giggle along with him, burying your head in his shoulder and speaking into the soft fabric of his jacket as he continues to fuck you.

“Oh god… well, I’m sure there’ll be some time to steam the dress again before I have to walk down the aisle.” 

You can feel Jake’s laughter reverberate against your cheek just before he cups your chin, lifting your face back up to be level with his and beaming at you with that megawatt smile. “There's my wife!” 

You’re both still grinning when he pulls you in for another kiss. Teeth gnashing against one another’s, mingled laughter and moans coming out in breathy puffs against each other’s lips as his cock works inside of you, his hips still moving against yours at an even pace.

“This is crazy.” You can barely get the words out, still giggling between messy kisses. 

“Yeah,” Jake punctuates with another press of his lips on yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and drawing out a quiet whimper as he pulls it back towards him and releases it before continuing. 

“It is crazy,” – Another kiss – “You make crazy, Sweets.”

With one more firm peck to your lips, you feel both of Jake’s hands wrap tighter under your thighs, rough fingers squeezing your ass as he hikes you up a bit higher against the wall, pressing impossibly closer to keep you firmly in place. 

The change of the angle combined with his thrusts accelerating in speed has you crying out loud as he ruts up into you, Jake’s lips moving to cover yours once again and muffle the sounds of your moans. 

You shudder against him as his tip prods against that spongy spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your closed lids with each and every thrust, and you feel that coil beginning to tighten again, the familiar heat rapidly licking at the base of your spine.

Jake knows you’re close when your nails begin to dig into his shoulders through the jacket of his tux as you gasp for air, your lips parting from his with a string of saliva still connecting them for a moment that makes him growl as your head lulls back to lean against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you quietly, breathlessly, cry out his name like a mantra.

Your body is sandwiched tightly between Jake’s and the wall as his length fills you, hips pinned to yours and barely able to pull out on each thrust for how tightly your walls are clamping around him, the coarse but neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock deliciously grazing your clit and setting your whole body alight.

He's the only thing keeping you upright when your orgasm hits you. His mouth swallows your cries as your whole body goes taut, holding Jake in a vice grip as you fall apart on his cock. 

Jake can feel it as all of the tension leaves your body. He continues in slow, shallow thrusts, the quiet of the room only accentuating the salacious sounds of your release flooding around him as he works you through your high. 

He pulls back from the kiss as your moans begin to subside to get a look at your fucked out, blissful expression. 

Your eyes are still closed, lips parted and now devoid of any of the nude-pink lipstick shade you’d been wearing before, and your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. 

Your chest rapidly rises and falls beneath the fitted white bodice of your wedding gown, accentuating your cleavage with each little pant as you try to catch your breath.

“So fucking pretty, honey,” Jake begins a light trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your warm cheek, and up to your hairline where he whispers against the slightly damp skin. “My beautiful bride.”

Your hands scramble for purchase on his back, whimpering as you attempt to pull him in closer. 

“Jake- '' Your legs tighten around his hips, heels pressing against his backside where they’re crossed at the ankles, your desperate mewl mixing with Jake’s deeper grunt as the movement pushes him even deeper inside of you.  

“‘M so lucky to- to get to call you my husband,” Jake swears that his cocks swells just that little bit more at your loving words. “Cum for me. Wanna feel you.”

“Fuck.” The sweet praise whispered from your pretty lips sends him into a tailspin. 

You’ve barely come down from your high when Jake’s hips quicken their pace as he begins to chase his own release, the beginnings of overstimulation making you cry out a string of broken moans, incoherent whimpers of curses and his name. 

The fullness and the delightful drag of his cock through your tight walls making you clench around him harder, and the assault of his tip against your g-spot leaving you feeling boneless, your grip on his shoulders tightens like you’ll float away at any moment.

The way your velvety walls are squeezing him, your release soaking his length and the obscene sound it creates as he continues to fuck into you, have Jake right on the edge of his own high. 

His head falls to your shoulder where he grunts deeply into the crook of your neck. 

“So good, baby. So good for me.” He praises, peppering sweet kisses to your hot skin, a stark contrast to the harsh force of his hips pounding against yours as they begin to lose their rhythm. 

After a few more sloppy thrusts, Jake finishes inside you with a strangled groan. The familiar sensation of his cum filling your still-spasming walls pulls a contented sigh from your lips. 

Jake’s lips dot a trail of soft kisses along the heated skin of your shoulder and neck, then under your jaw before he lifts his face to be level with yours. Pressing his forehead against your own, the two of you stay there just breathing each other in as you catch your breath.

When the groomsmen realize just how much time has passed with still no sign of Jake, and with only minutes until the supposed start of the ceremony, Bradley is seeing red. 

For a moment, jumping to the worst conclusion — that Jake may be standing his little sister up on her wedding day — and he’s just about ready to murder the groom.

It’s only when Natasha knocks on the door to the groomsmens’ suite, looking frazzled as she asks him and the other Daggers if any of them have seen the bride, letting them know that you’ve gone missing as well, that Bradley and his wife both quickly come to the realization that the two of you must be together. 

So, Natasha and Bradley begin the hunt to find the soon-to-be newlyweds, the latter rolling his eyes before grumbling, “They’d better not be off somewhere fucking.”

Natasha only responds with a snicker because she knows that’s probably exactly what the two of you were doing. She offers her grumpy husband a sympathetic look and gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze before they split up to search through the maze that is the halls of your wedding venue. 

In no rush to move just yet, you and Jake just rest for a moment, foreheads pressed together, your body still sandwiched between his broad frame and the wall. His softening cock still inside of you, puffs of air warming each other’s lips as shallow pants become more steady breaths.

You know that you and Jake’s little er —detour— has almost definitely put things behind schedule for your big day, but in this moment you honestly couldn’t care less. 

When it’s just you and the love of your life, bodies intertwined and relishing in each other’s warmth, shared breaths becoming one, you can’t help but think that this day already couldn’t be more perfect.

You feel a flurry of excitement, your heart bursting at the thought that it’s always going to be like this. Solace in the fact that you’re Jake’s and he’s yours, that this is only the beginning of the rest of your lives together. 

He seems to share in the sentiment, pulling back to admire you for a moment before you feel his smile against your skin when he lightly presses his lips to your forehead. 

One of his hands reaches up to cradle your cheek, those green eyes are boring down into your own with that look of pure adoration once again as Jake moves to speak.

“God, I can’t wait to marry you,” His voice is breathy and full of awe–almost a laugh, eyes crinkling up at the corners in that way that you love as his smile begins to take up more of his face. “I’m so happy that you’re gonna be my wife.”

“Jake…” If you thought your heart was bursting before, you think it’s about ready to break free from your chest now, your eyes glistening with emotion as you lovingly look up at him through your lashes.

“You’re gonna make me cry and I don’t want to mess up my makeup any more than I probably already have,”

The two of you share a quiet laugh, smitten as ever as your hand makes its way up to cover his where it still rests on the side of your face. “But, to have you as my husband… I couldn’t be happier.”

Jake leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them. “Love you, Sweets.”

It’s only after you return his kiss and those three little words that have become as easy to you as breathing, that Jake finally pulls out of you and the two of you let out a simultaneous sigh. 

He reaches down to where the mix of his and your release begins to dribble out of your spent hole, a shattered moan falling from your parted lips as your head lulls back against the wall once more. 

Your legs begin to shake from the overstimulation as two of Jake’s long fingers push his cum back into you, expertly thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling them out again, and you find yourself grateful for the sturdy wall behind you when he purposefully brushes them against your oversensitive clit, leaving you breathless as he shifts your panties back into place to keep his cum inside. 

Your mind is cloudy of all things but Jake — his scent and his warmth and the feeling of his hands all over your skin, his pretty green eyes and his voice and his gorgeously cocky smirk — each one of your senses being invaded by him and you couldn’t be more content. 

And, you love knowing that underneath all the layers of fancy lace and tulle, right before the biggest moments of your lives, that you have his cum inside you.

Just as you part from one another, a knock on the door causes you to jump. 

You can hear Natasha out in the hall calling out your names and you and Jake share a look, wearing matching guilty smiles. 

However, it’s not long before his smile shifts into a more of a smirk, and you have to bite back a giggle as he rolls his green eyes playfully before leaning in to peck your cheek, pulling back to mouth the words ‘you good?’. 

With your grin and nod of confirmation, Jake leaves you with one more kiss, fastening the button on his pants and straightening out his dress shirt as he makes his way over to the door.

He pulls it open, still wearing that signature smirk on his face and Natasha glances up at him before she cautiously peeks her head in to see you too, hair smoothed out as much as you could manage on such short notice, the skirt of your wedding dress now back in place and hiding the fact that Jake’s cum is soaking through your underwear and beginning to drip down your thighs. 

“Thank god you’re clothed. I wasn’t looking to get scarred for life today.” Natasha breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the room. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t find us five minutes earlier.” Jake chuckles as you lightly smack his chest, that ever-cocky smile on his handsome face that you’ve come to love so very much over these last three years. 

You can’t help but snicker along with him when you catch sight of Natasha’s nose wrinkling in disgust. 

“Ok, ew… And you’re lucky I found you and not Bradley.” Natasha gives Jake a glare before clapping her hands in front of both of your faces. “Now come on, hurry the fuck up. The ceremony — your wedding ceremony — is about to start soon.”

You nod your head frantically, as if only just remembering where, and when, you are.

“Right, yeah! I just gotta go… clean up a bit.” you squeak out to your sister-in-law with a bashful grin before scurrying off the bathroom of the suite you’d snuck into. 

Natasha just gives Jake a deadpan look that conveys her slight disgust before leaving the room, making her way out into the hall to call Bradley and let the him know that she’s located the happy couple. 

After taking care of the mess between your legs and wiping off the smudged remnants of your lipstick in the bathroom mirror, you return to find Jake, who’s leaning up against the wall opposite the door, looking cool and calm and handsome as ever in his tux. 

Making your way over to him, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, letting out a little snort as your hands reach up to delicately fix his hair where it sticks out in a few places—no doubt from your tugging on it during your recent activities. 

Once Jake’s golden locks are back in a more presentable state, you smooth a hand down the nape of his neck, leaning up to attach your lips firmly to his. 

Jake groans into it as his mouth moves against yours with just as much fervor, his hands reaching blindly for your waist to pull you in closer, and the two of you share one last passionate kiss that you hope conveys both your love for him and your excitement to be marrying him — though Jake already knows. 

“Alright, Natasha’s going to kill me if I don’t get back in the next two minutes.” You pull away from his lush lips, reluctantly and breathlessly, wanting to live in this moment with him forever. 

Your arms unwrap themselves from behind Jake’s neck, but you don’t get very far when he reaches out to take one of your hands in his own, and you can tell he’s just as reluctant to end the moment too when he brings it up to his lips to kiss a trail from your knuckles to the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah, I’m not really looking forward to dealing with your brother either.” 

His words make you laugh in that sweet, boisterous way that he’s so ready to hear for the rest of his life and with that, Jake chuckles and lets you go, his hand still holding onto yours until you’re too far out of reach. 

Jake calls out your name just as you reach the door and you stop short, turning around to face him just as you pull it open. You stand in the threshold, brows raised, and look at him expectantly. 

“See ya out there, my beautiful bride.”

You’re surprised your cheeks don’t perpetually hurt from how much this man makes you smile.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, my dashing groom.” You leave him with a playful wink and that intoxicating smile, in a flash of flowing white fabric as you quickly retreat into the hallway. 

Jake chuckles to himself, moving over to the mirror to make sure he looks presentable, smoothing a hand over his hair and giving himself one last once-over before he makes his way back to his groomsmen. 

Trailing behind Natasha, you quickly make your way through the halls back to the bridal suite, giving her your most innocent smile when she peers back at you over her shoulder with a pointed look.

Your sister-in-law sends you a half-hearted scoff and a playful roll of her brown eyes, but you can see the smirk just beginning to grow at the corner of her lips before she turns and reaches out to open the door. 

“Come on.” Natasha half laughs, half groans, ushering you into the room.

Before you know it, you’ve got a plethora of people surrounding you once again — one giving your dress a very last minute steam to get rid of any wrinkles your activities with Jake a few minutes earlier had caused, others rushing around to touch up your hair and makeup and to finally pin up your veil. Although, this time around, you find that you’re unbothered. Feeling a lot more at ease, and you’re back in tip-top shape in record time. 

You’re practically vibrating in excitement and anticipation as Natasha and the rest of your bridal party shower you with hugs and their own squeals of excitement and encouragement before they make their way outside to the beautifully set up venue to get into their places for the ceremony. 

You give yourself one final once-over in the mirror, unable to curb the smile that grows at how beautiful you feel. 

It's only a few moments later when Bradley pokes his head in the door once more to ask if you’re ready. He takes in the giddy — and much more self-assured than earlier  —  smile on your face when you turn to him and nod your head excitedly. 

“Ya know, you can still back out of this if you wanted.” Your brother jokes, his tone teasing as his mustached lips form into a sly grin.

With a punch to your older brother’s shoulder, you pin Bradley with a pointed look and a sarcastic ‘ha ha’.

“Come on, I’m sure the Bronco would make a great getaway car!” He chuckles as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Bradley!” You move to punch his arm again, but he quickly ducks out of the way this time, and though your eyes are now narrowed at him in a feigned scowl, Bradley can tell that you’re not really angry with him by the way your lips are fighting back pulling up into a smile. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to hold my peace when that part comes up.” He raises his hands up in surrender and you can’t help but laugh along with Bradley’s joke, though not without a playful shake of your head and roll of your eyes. 

“You better!” Your big brother flinches as you lurch at him again, but this time, instead of hitting him, your fingers reach up to pinch his ear and it’s like the two of you are kids again; you giggling maniacally while Bradley — now a big, tough 6’1 fighter pilot — yelps in pain, arms flailing as he tries to get out of your grip.

He’d probably pull your hair like he did when you were kids too, if it wasn’t all styled to perfection with your beautiful sheer veil pinned to the crown of it, all ready for your big day. 

“I will, I will!” Bradley hisses through his teeth, chuckling as you release your hold on him to grab your bouquet that’s a beautiful mix of both yours and Jake’s favorite flowers, and then move to link your arm with his to begin the path down the hall. The path to the rest of your life and you couldn’t be more excited. 

As your brother guides you through the venue’s winding halls towards the doors to where the outdoor ceremony is being held, a gentle grin befalls your lips as you think about how you got here — and your big brother’s part in all of it. 

“You know… I know you told all the guys at your wedding to steer clear of me.” 

Bradley stops in his tracks at your divulgence, pulling you to a quick stop as well and nearly tripping you over your heels and the fabric of your long wedding gown.

“You wha- huh? You know?!” 

Admittedly, Bradley thought he was taking that secret to his grave.

“Yeah, I know.” You can’t help but giggle at your brother’s flustered expression. “Jake told me, a few months after we started dating.”

You’ve known for almost three years and you never said anything. Huh. 

Bradley stands there with his lips parted, but no words are coming out. He’s still in shock at the fact that you’re laughing about this. 

“So… you’re not mad?” He asks the question apprehensively, a grimace on his face as he awaits your answer. 

“No, I’m not mad.” You shake your head, still smiling as an airy laugh escapes you. 

“Well, maybe I was for like a second back then. But, I appreciate how much you want to protect me, Bradley. Even if it does make you an idiot sometimes.” 

You playfully roll your eyes and Bradley finally relaxes, shoulders dropping as he laughs along with you. 

“For what it’s worth, you and Jake actually aren’t a half-bad couple.” You playfully smack his chest in response to the — albeit sweet — jest. 

“Thank you.” You beam up at your brother, content knowing that that’s his way of letting you know he truly is happy for you and Jake. 

Bradley links his arm with yours again and continues leading you towards the doors. “I wish Mom and Dad could see how beautiful you look today. They’d be so proud.” 

“Oh, come on, Bradley! You’re gonna make me cry off my makeup!” You whisper-yell at him half jokingly as you finally reach the doors that will lead you out to the ceremony — to where you’ll very soon be married to the love of your life. 

“Me too.” Giving Bradley’s arm a gentle squeeze, the two of you share a smile, knowing that your parents will be there in spirit. And grateful for the fact that your uncle Mav who’s always been like a third parent to you will be there too. “Now, come on. Let’s go get me married!”

The wedding ceremony goes off without a hitch — albeit a little bit later than planned. 

When the music starts and Bradley walks you down the aisle, you’re surrounded by the smiling faces of friends and family. 

Although, your eyes are only on Jake — looking so unbelievably handsome in his tux and his wide smile and you can’t believe just how lucky you got — and his mossy green eyes are focused on only you. 

Both of your eyes shine with tears and it’s as if only the two of you exist in that moment when you meet him at the altar, the two of you happily joining hands with matching lovesick grins adorning your faces.

Though he’ll never admit it — and Natasha will never let him live it down — Bradley definitely shed a few tears himself as he listened to you and Jake exchange your vows. 

It’s been a long day of running around getting ready for the ceremony — and sneaking off for a quickie, of course — before marrying your soulmate in front of practically everyone you know, then taking countless family photos and enjoying a cocktail hour with your friends and family showering you and Jake in congratulations and well wishes. 

But, it’s all worth it because you’re finally able to call Jake your husband and you couldn’t be happier.

You’re both more than ready for the reception, ready to let loose and enjoy your time together as a newlyweded couple. 

After a nice dinner comes the best man and maid of honor speeches from Javy and Natasha, and a speech from Uncle Mav that includes a few embarrassing anecdotes about your childhood that have you giggling as you hide your face in Jake’s shoulder. 

Then it’s time for the newlyweds to make a toast before sharing your first dance to Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, the first song you and Jake danced to on the night when you met three years ago at your brother’s wedding. 

The two of you hold each other close and sway along to the music without a care in the world, Jake dipping you towards the end of the song and claiming your lips in a long kiss that has the entire room cheering — although again, it’s as if you and Jake are the only two who exist in that moment.

When Jake pulls back from the kiss, one of his large palms is still cupping your cheek, fingers gently grazing your skin as his green eyes gaze down at you in adoration. 

“I can’t believe you’re my wife.” He lightly shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m never gonna stop saying that — my wife.”

You’re smiling against one another’s lips as you pull Jake down for another kiss, giggling when you mouth parts from his. 

“I love you so much, my husband.”

You can see that familiar look of both adoration and hunger beginning to overtake Jake’s features in response to your words as your first dance comes to an end.

After sharing what would traditionally be a father-daughter dance with Mav, he returns you into your husband’s loving arms as others begin to join in on the fun, the dance floor now filling up with your guests. 

Jake sees his opportunity to whisk you away from the dancefloor, using the commotion to make a sneaky getaway — again. 

You should be used to it by now — his large hand warmly encompassing yours and pulling you along with him — but you still can’t help the giggles that break free as you quicken your pace to match his as best as you can in your heels, sprinting until the two of you have disappeared from dancefloor, and soon from your wedding reception entirely.   

Out of the ballroom doors and into the empty hallway, the loud music and sounds of your guests having fun now a muffled to barely-there background noise, you find yourself alone with Jake. Your husband.

You pull on Jake’s hand to bring him to a stop in front of you, turning him around and pulling him in closer to you as you lean your back against the closed door, gazing up at him with a lip-bitten smile. 

“What are we doing?” You question through a breathless laugh, although you’re pretty sure you already know the answer. 

Jake’s broad frame crowds you in closer to the door and you find your breaths coming in quicker as he presses the front of his body up against yours.

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down even closer, his nose gently brushing yours, lips just shy of touching your own. His breath fans against them and it sends a shiver down your spine, a jolt going straight to your core when he speaks.

“Well, we’ve gotta consummate our marriage, Sweets.” Jake whispers against you, his mouth just barely grazing your own. “And I’d like to consummate it as soon as possible.”

The evident hunger in his voice has you frantically nodding against him, eyes still squeezed shut when you feel his front press impossibly closer to you — and the growing bulge there. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, honey. Gonna consummate the shit out of you.” 

Jake’s whispered words, and their mirthy tone, have you bursting into a fit of giggles, your head falling back against the door behind you. His own laugh joins in with yours as you shake your head at his silliness. You love this man so much.

Your hands reach up to the sides of his neck to pull your husband down for a kiss, lips and teeth clashing as neither of you can break the smiles from your faces. 

“You’re such a dork, Seresin.” You whisper sweetly against Jake’s lips.

“Yeah, but you love it… Mrs. Seresin.” His large hands squeeze your hips, both the heat you feel on your skin through the lacy fabric of your dress and the name making you giddy.

“Well… lead the way, Mr. Seresin!” 

You’re unable to contain the massive smile that breaks out on your face as Jake presses one last kiss to your lips, before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you along with him once more, and you don’t care where takes you as long as your hand gets to be intertwined with his for the rest of your lives. 

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Thank you for reading! x

taglist: @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @onethirstyunicorn @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @marvelogic @djs8891 @diorrfairy (pls let me know if you'd like to be removed 🤍)

tagging some others who might be interested: @hangmanssunnies @blue-aconite @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @doreenwnsng @watchtowerindistress @dingochef @floydsglasses @lynnestra44 @ryebecca (i'm going to reblog and also tag all the rest of the people who reblogged part one! 🤍)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi losing what is left of his patience when you get injured by a demon

Pairing: Sanemi x wife!reader

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Despite the fact that your husband is the opposite of your quiet and kind self, you love him dearly while Sanemi treasures you in a purely unique way. But even though you learned to love his rough side the way it is, you can't stop tears from falling when your husband loses it after you get injured by a demon

Warning: this is THE angst to fluff y'all, Sanemi is a rough but soft boi I'm so weak for him in this fic omgomgomg, been listeing to again by noah cyrus and lana del rey while writing this, injury + angst + near death experience

this might be my favorite sanemi fic coming from my own hands so PLEASE if you feel the same, I'm super thankful for a lil like, comment or even reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍

Oh, it was never easy, being the wife to none other than the wind hashira. When you’re quiet he’s noisy, when you’re put together he’s all over the place, while you act loving and kind Sanemi shows his devilish side.

But there was not once a day that made you second-guess your decision, not a single moment that made you feel something apart from deep affection for that man. It doesn’t matter that you are the opposite of him in each and every sense. He’s yours. And you’ll forever be his.

“Sanemi!”

Your oh so sweet voice echoes like a well-composed melody through his ears, makes him forget the wave of anger that washed over him earlier. Just seeing you standing there in the yukata he gifted you years ago while holding a dish with ohagi in your hands allows him to forget all the shit that happened for a brief second.

“Didn’t I tell you that you aren’t allowed to overwork yourself?”, he grumbles before sitting down opposite of you.

You look as good as always with your hair well-brushed and kind eyes lit by the down-going sun. What would his life look like if it didn’t contain of coming home to you? You, his only ray of sunshine. You, the only one who’s able to calm his temper down. Just you, his beloved wife. Who would have thought that out of all hashira, he’d be the one who treasures his wife the most?

“It’s not me who is overworked, but you. Did you get bruised again?”, you question with your melodic voice.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Will you stay home tonight?”

“I definitely hope so. If that crow disturbs my sleep again…”

“You have an important roll to fulfil, as a hashira-“

“’It’s my honor to bring peace to those who aren’t able to look out for themselves.’ Yeah, I already know.”

In contrary to his harsh tone, his fingertips caress your cheek gently while his eyes soften in an instant. It was hard, learning how to read him. When you first met, it was not uncommon that you broke out in tears after he talked to you like that. But now, after 4 years of getting to know him, you never lose your kind smile.

“How was your day?”, he continues.

With a swift motion, he pulls you between his legs and presses your head against his bare chest while his strong arms keep you in place. This are the moments that make your life worth living. Just you and your husband, arm in arm, watching the sunset in nothing but peace and silence.

“I enjoyed the nice weather while taking care of the garden. The tulips look exceptionally beautiful this season.”

“They’ll never be as beautiful as you, though”, he replies with low voice.

If life could stay like that. Oh, what you’d give to never let go of him again…

-later that night-

“Wind pillar, wind pillar! An emergency occurred! Countless demons were spotted nearby! The demon slayer corps need your assistance-“

“Can you just shut the fuck up”, Sanemi mumbles while pulling you closer sleep-drunken.

Immediately, you are wide awake. Nearby demons?

“Sanemi, you need to get up. What if someone gets injured?”, you whisper into the dark night.

“So what?”

You stare at him through the veil of darkness, not daring to say another word. He will get up eventually. He always does.

“Urgh, fine…Time to kill some demons, then”, he finally grumbles and drags himself away from you in order to put on his uniform.

“You stay here until I get back. Even if our estate is build pretty safe and I’ll rip off the heads of the demons around first, I don’t want you to be out there on your own. Got it?”, he instructs you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead like he always does.

“I will. Please be careful and watch out for yourself”, you whimper.

It’s a challenge to let go of him each and every night he is forced to leave. He might be a hashira, but what if he doesn’t return by sunrise some day? What if he meets an upper-ranked demon unexpectedly? Just when he’s about to leave, you grab his hand one last time.

“And don’t act reckless”, you add.

No matter how much it hurts to let go of his hand, you know you have no other choice. This is the life you chose, the price you have to pay in order to call that wonderful man your beloved husband.

“I can never promise you that”, he replies before leaving you alone in the now cold and awkwardly dark room.

Everything will turn out alright. It just has to…

You don’t know how long you’ve been awake already. Minutes? Hours? All you’re able to do is stare at the ceiling above, ears perking up with every minor movement of the trees outside. Surely, Sanemi will return soon. Being the skilled fighter he is, it normally takes him at most two hours until he returns with his sheets still a little warm. But aren’t those two hours over already?

Another noise outside catches your attention. Is it a tree again? You furrow your eyebrows, immediately sitting up straight while staring outside the window. No, this almost sounds like the whimpers of a child. A child outside at this hour?

You swallow hard. A child outside when there are demons reported around this area?

“P-please, someone help me! I-I’m so s-scared!”

Your heart drops to the floor. There is no doubt in the fact that this has to be a child. Your mind starts racing back and forth. It would be absolutely unacceptable to leave that poor soul out on its own, especially when you can’t know if the area is really free of demons. But on the other hand…You bite your lip when your husband’s words replay themselves in your head.

“No matter what happens when I’m gone. Don’t. Go. Out. On. Your. Own. At. Night. Need me to spell it, (y/n)? Never ever, not in a million years. Got it?”

Not under any circumstances. Your husband made that very clear countless times. But does that include a helpless child outside your estate in the middle of the night? You aren’t a fighter like Sanemi is, even refused to keep an emergency katana in the house just in case. There is no way you could harm a single soul, not even a demon. Leaving a child outside in the middle of the night…isn’t that just as unforgivable?

Sanemi said that he’ll take care of the demons around first. That means you’re safe, right? But even if that poor child doesn’t face danger in the form of a demon, it will certainly freeze with that cold breeze rushing over the land these days.

“P-please, is someone there? I’m s-so tired and s-so cold…I…I can’t walk anymore…”

Your heart aches with every word. No matter how much value the promise you made towards your husband holds in your heart, you simply can’t stand the thought of ignoring an innocent little child that needs your help.

“Why are you out there all on your own, where are your parents?”, you shout into the darkness of your home while making your way to the door.

Is it really okay, breaking the promise you’ve made like that? You grab the handle of the door tightly. This might be the only time you’re actually useful. Without any skills apart from cooking, you can only watch from the side-lines how the demon slayer corps save the world. Maybe this is your chance to do a little something as well, your chance to actually be helpful.

You swing your door open while holding your breath.

“Where are you? Let’s get you inside and grab a warm tea, okay? You must be freezing”, you speak out gently, eyes scanning the garden for the little figure.

“I’m right here!”, the innocent voice cries out to your right.

Instantly, you pick up your pace and sprint towards the tiny figure lying in the grass. Oh no, you can’t imagine what this little child has been through, how it even got here. Did it get lost in the woods and failed to return before the night came? You’ll have to prepare a guestroom right away, just after inviting this little one in-

“Foolish woman.”

Time stands still, your glossy orbs starts to tremble when the tiny figure in front of you starts to build itself up, grows taller and taller until it surpasses your own height by multiple inches. This…this isn’t a child.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, blood rushing through your ears so violently that you feel like fainting any given minute after it strucks you like lighting.

You were tricked by a demon. After Sanemi warned you over and over, you fell for the lousy trick of a demon. Out of instinct you start stumbling backwards, glossy eyes darted towards the horrific creature with bright red eyes and fangs bigger than your own head.

“I waited patiently until that demon slayer was gone. A young and beautiful woman like you sure tastes nice. Now that I’m seeing you fully, you were definitely worth the wait. I’m sure your flesh tastes excellent.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. Is this really how your life will come to an end? Because you didn’t listen to your husband, because you wanted to be somehow useful? How will Sanemi react, finding out that you were killed? Suddenly your legs threaten to give in and force you to come to a stand. It’s not like you’d be able to defend yourself in any kind of way when all you ever did was taking care of Sanemi and your imaginary perfect life.

A perfect life, ruined by one night of carelessness.

His face flashes in front of your inner eyes, the kind smile he always wore when he didn’t know you were watching. Despite the flaws others see in him, his hot temper and the way he treats his little brother, you are head over heels for him. Your husband, your everything, your Sanemi. A perfect little marriage, ruined by you.

“Don’t”, you hush into the night like the fool you’re are.

“How much I love hearing you little women beg not to get killed. Music in my ears!”

He dashes towards, ready to slice your throat open single-handed. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall backwards into the wet grass, watching how his claws brush over your forehead with enough force to discolour your vision red.

“Nice moves. You seem really healthy. That’s actually even better”, the demon purrs.

This is it. Your final moment on this earth, killed through the hands of a demon in your own well-groomed garden. You never imagined it all to go down like this, not when you’re still so young and full of love.

You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, to tell Sanemi one final time how much you adore him and that you’ll love him through everything. Will he be okay? The man who lost almost everything, who has to live with a burden heavier than earth itself balanced on his strong shoulders. This…this will break him even more.

“Any last words?”, the demon jeers at you.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. No, there is nothing this creature deserves to hear from you, not even a single scream will escape your lips. You rest your lids, picture his oh so gorgeous face in front of your inner eye. If you only had more time, if you only listened. Your beloved marriage, vanishing in thin air.

“I’m sorry Sanemi. I’m so so sorry…”

When will it be over?

“Touch her and you’ll die.”

What...No, this is impossible, you have to be dreaming-

“Or nah, you’ll die anyway.”

 The urge to open your eyes again becomes unbearable.

Your heart skips a beat. Instead of getting greeted by the claws of the demon, you’re able to read it very clearly.

“Destroy.”

This back, so familiar broad…

“Sanemi?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside the house?”, he barks over his shoulder.

It happens faster than your eyes are able to follow. One high jump, one slash of his sword and the demon’s head falls onto the soft grass in front of you. Immediately, you are surrounded by dust rising towards the moon.

“What were you even thinking?”

Before you’re even able to feel relieved your husband storms towards you, not a single spark of affection gleaming in his furious eyes.

“You promised over and over”, he screams on top of his lungs.

“I’m-“

“And you fucking lied into my face!”

Roughly, he grabs your Yukata with both hands and yanks your throbbing figure towards him.

“I’m so-“

“Is all of this a joke to you? Don’t you trust your husband enough to do as you’re told!? You’ve had this one job, that one fucking job to stay inside the house!”

“Sanemi, I-“

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Did you really want to die right here?”

“Sanemi…”

You breathe his name into the night with strangled voice, tears now streaming down your face like a waterfall. You made a reckless mistake, but none of this happened because you wanted to hurt him. His words, his furious gaze, his hardened eyes so venomous that you have to look away dig themselves like knives into your already fragile heart and simply take your breath away. Out of all feelings, your husband is livid at you.

“I…I’m sorry”, you finally press out.

“You could have died, (y/n). You know that?”

He pulls you towards himself even harder, his hands fisting the fabric of your yukata so tightly that you fear he might rip it.

“You could have died and I couldn’t have done a single fucking thing. Losing you…Fuck!”

He yanks your chin upwards with one hand, forces you to look at him through your wet lashes. But you aren’t greeted by his stone-cold glare. No, are those…tears shimmering in his orbs? What’s left of your heart breaks in an instant.

“I can’t lose you. Not you, not the love of my life. Not another loved one. I couldn’t fucking stand this shitty world without you by my side. How many times did I tell you to stay inside the house when I’m gone at night?”, he screams at you.

“I-I’m sorry”, you hush through shaky lips.

“You’re my everything. Fuck, I love you so much…Losing you like that…”

The next second you find yourself devoured in his strong arms, holding you pressed against his chest so tightly that you can feel his heart pounding.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, (y/n). Never”, he mutters into your hair while caressing your bloody hair.

“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding, goddamn. Let’s get you inside, this needs to get stitched up.”

You don’t dare to contradict, allowing him to carry you back into safety with your arms cramped around his neck.

You’re safe. Sanemi is absolutely furious with you, but the worry in his eyes, the gleam…You bury your head inside his uniform, desperately trying to escape your own foolishness. None of this would have happened if you just stayed inside like he told you. If you were smart enough…

“How did he get you outside?”, Sanemi finally breaks the silence while cleaning your wound.

“He played a scared and lost child”, you mumble.

“Huh, what I thought. You’d never break a promise over nothing”, Sanemi replies, his voice a little softer than before.

“I know you tried to help, but never to shit like that again. When I saw you lying there and your blood on the grass, I almost died. You’re my everything, my wife. I can’t lose you because of a demon, you hear me? I was so damn worried about you…”

“I just wanted to do something…useful…”

“Useful? Are you too dumb to see how useful you are?”, he bites back.

Sanemi stops barking at you immediately after seeing how glossy your eyes turn all over again. No matter how fucking mad he is right now, he can’t hurt you any further. It’s clear you acted out of the right motives, he shouldn’t scream at you like that. Especially since you almost died tonight. Not his wife, not when you’re everything he has.

“I treasure you more than everything else in this world. You’re the reason I’m still believing there’s something good left here. Don’t you dare to risk your important life like that again, got it?”, he gently continues before caressing your cheek the way you love so much.

“I never wanted to cause you this much trouble. I…I was acting dumb…”, you mutter, intertwining your fingers with his.

“We’re all a little dumb from time to time, yeah? Let’s go back to sleep, that was more than enough for one night.”

You don’t hesitate when he pulls you along into the oh so inviting sheets. With him by your side, they definitely feel way more inviting. With him by your side, you don’t have to fear a single nightmare haunting you down this frightful night.

“At least I’m having an excuse now for a day off tomorrow. I love you, (y/n). So so much”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair, holding you so comforting against his chest that sleep washes over you almost immediately.

“I love you too, Sanemi…”

There is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi held you even closer each and every night after almost losing you through the hands of a demon.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @skeleton-the-gangser (reader isn't pregnant in that one, but the vibe is the same as with the Yoriichi fic you enjoyed)

[moonchild9350]

Napping With Stray Kids

Summary: Just my thoughts on napping with Skz!

Pairing: OT8 idol Stray Kids x reader

Word Count: 881

Genre: fluff, suggestive

Warnings: none (shocking for me lol)

Notes: This was fun to write and had to put something together real quick before life gets busy again! I'm happy this came up in our convos @jeonginsleftcheek! I hope you guys like it!

Likes, reblogs, and comments welcomed as always :)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Bangchan We all know Bangchan has insomnia and doesn’t sleep well or much at all but he’s more than happy to at least try to nap with you if you suggest it. He’ll hold off on his never ending to do list, because he’ll do anything for his baby girl. You snuggle into his arms, as he pulls the blankets up and around you to keep you warm. His fingers lightly drag up and down your spine, soothing you. He’ll even sing you a song to help you fall asleep if you want. Tucking your head into his chest, your breathing starts to slow as you fall asleep. Chan tries, he really does, to fall asleep and nap with you but he’s perfectly content watching you sleep in his arms.

Lee Know I’m convinced that if you try to nap with Minho, sleep won’t come right away. He’ll try and tickle you knowing how ticklish you are, giggling as you squirm and grab a pillow to throw it at him. He’ll tackle you and press kisses all over your face while you laugh and tell him to stop (even though you don’t want him to, not really). After retrieving the pillows off the floor, you’ll both settle in, Minho wrapping his arms around your waist and snuggling his head into your neck. If you’re lucky the kids will come nap with you guys too, Soonie napping by both of your heads, Doongie at your feet, and Dori snuggling into your side.

Changbin Changbin would be one to be watching videos on his phone like tik tok or YouTube and would giggle every two seconds at something funny. Every time you close your eyes to nap, his giggle would fill the room causing you to open your eyes and laugh back with him. You can’t help it, he’s just so darn cute! Eventually you do fall asleep, your head resting on your chest. Binnie notices you’re asleep (which is a miracle honestly because the man can’t multitask to save his life) and tries his best not to make a sound, you just look so peaceful and he wants to make sure his baby gets plenty of rest.

Hyunjin I believe that napping with Hyunjin would be the most poetic? Like you’re all curled up in his bed, blanket wrapped around you, your hair fanned out on his pillow. He’s sitting at his desk painting, cause when is he not. But you don’t mind. You watch him for a while, the way his hands move around the paper, the little face he makes when the color doesn’t come out the way he wants. You eventually drift off to sleep. Hyunjin notices, and smiles, happy you’re here with him. Little do you know, you’re sleeping form is the subject of his painting, as he thinks you look like an angel.

Han Han is the certified nap man, this is no secret. He is always down for a nap, add you in the equation and he’s the happiest man on earth. He’ll pull you into his arms, pressing sweet kisses and nuzzling his head into your neck. It doesn’t take long for you both to fall asleep. You’re just so cute together. And bonus points for the members if you guys fall asleep at the studio. They’re ohhhing and awwing at you two love birds, fast asleep together.

Felix On his off days, he’s at his computer, playing Genshin. It’s really the only time he has to play. But the moment you come over, he logs off and he goes to snuggle with you. You love looking at Felix’s face, tracing his freckles while he looks deep into your eyes. You’re both just so in love with each other. Your eyes slowly close, perfectly content in his arms. Felix would lean down to press a kiss on your nose, before closing his own eyes. He finds he sleeps best when you’re by his side.

Seungmin Now Seungmin could go both ways when it comes to napping with you. He could be a total menace by poking your face and tickling you. Making fun of your protests (lovingly of course) and not letting you sleep. Or he could be the exact opposite, a sweet puppy, pulling you close and softy singing you a song to help lull you to sleep. Either way he will end of falling asleep with you, mind blown at how he could have ended up with such a sweet person as you.

I.N. Now Jeongin is a middle child and hates skinship, this we all know. But I’m convinced if he’s going to snuggle and fall asleep with someone it’s you, the love of his life. It’s different when you touch him, he craves your touch more than he thought possible. He makes sure you’re all tucked in, nice and warm, but not so much so that he can’t feel you anymore. You’ll laugh at his actions, telling him you’re fine as long as he’s there. He doesn’t listen, he wants to make sure you have a nice rest and being warm and comfortable is part of that. To top it all off, he’ll drape your legs over his, and wrap his arms around you as you both drift off to sleep.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek

[tbaluver]

i loved the aftercared w/ them for the love&deepspace crew, but would love to see what aftercare the reader does for the boys in return. they deserve it & the world. <3 (p.s. pls ignore if you're not accepting requests)

When You Give Them AfterCare- The Love And DeepSpace Men

genre: overall fluff but contains suggestive content, MDNI

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: eeee i'm so happy to hear you loved that headcanon! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ you're so right they def deserve it and the world !! i hope you and everybody else enjoys this one as well! <3

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

There would be times where he would be worn out after you both finished. He would be speechless, sweaty, and still would internally beg for more but his body would be screaming at him that he's tired and you noticed. He might not always have the energy to clean himself up so you'd gently clean him up.

You'd pull him up for a cuddle for a bit, his head rested on your chest. Your fingers would intertwine with his locks, giving his scalp a gentle massage, whispering how he did so well and he did so good.

If it were still early in the evening, you'd pull out your phone but keep it angled downward so he could see the options on what you both might want to order for delivery.

When you tell him that you both need to get up to shower, he'd be a little stubborn because he just does not want to be a second apart. You'd eventually convince him with your protest because you don't love being sticky and sweaty and he doesn't either.

He'll have somewhat of the energy to help you bathe but you insist on doing the work and his sleepy gazed eyes will you as you move around. You'd help pick out the comfiest clothes for him to wear afterwards.

Once your both settled back into bed, he would be super sleepy and he'll still be the big spoon. He would love when you run your hands through his hair to undo any tangles or massage his muscles afterwards or just a mix of all of that while giving him a ton of words of affirmation making him sleep so peacefully in your embrace.

Zayne:

He'll relax into the bed and sigh contently after reluctantly letting you clean him up. His hazy will watch you as you clean him up. You won't notice it but his ears would turn red. Once your done cleaning him up, you up and he's laid out on bed. He looks so good, built like a sculpted god.

You couldn't resist but you crawl towards him, guiding his head to rest against your chest and letting him listen to your heartbeat. He would let you do so as he relaxes against your body for a bit. You would grab his hand, kissing the backside of his knuckles as you tell him he did so well.

You would lead him to the bathroom, helping him wash, dry, and pick out comfy clothes for him. You would lead him back to your shared bed but not going in with him just yet. He would tug your wrist back in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. You would explain to him to give you a few minutes and you'll be right back.

You would come back with small healthy snacks and a cup of water and he would be melting at your small actions. You two would discuss small or deep conversations with your snacks before cleaning up and getting comfortable in bed.

Once you put away your snacks and your both cuddled in bed, your forehead rests against his. It would quiet now, just the steady sounds of both your breathing. Just the peacefulness and calmness made it feel like it was just only the two of you in your own world. You would trace the outline of his jaw before pulling him into a sweet passionate kiss as he would melt into your touched feeling oh so loved.

Rafayel:

He's always clingy even after sex and he always just wants to be within your reach and have you hold him afterwards. He loves when you play and brush tangled knots out of his messy hair as it would feel so calming.

He usually doesn't ask for it, mostly jokes about it, but he loves when you clean him up. He loves when you give him a lot of praise, reassurance, and kisses, or even just a mix of all of that. He loves hearing how you tell him how he did so well for you.

Obviously loves to bathe with you. This time he'll sit pressed back against you while your hands rub his shoulders. "You should do this more often. I think I like being taken care of." He would joke around.

Does not let you leave his proximity so he'll follow you around while you hold his hand to the kitchen as you chop up his favorite fruits. You two would have some small chit-chat and joke around before going back to your shared bedroom.

When both of you are back in bed, you would rest your chin on the crown of his head, giving him a couple of kisses as he holds you close and his hands are pressed against your back. He would nuzzle into your chest as you both drift off to sleep.

Sylus:

Once you'd remove the handcuffs from his wrists, you'd massage them and kiss over the red marks and help clean him up before cuddling down into him.

If he let you be the dominant one and if it were a rough session, you would give him a massage or tend any bruises, marks, scratches, or aches he's received. You would find the ointment or creams that he would usually use on you to apply on him.

However if it was in general, he'd quirk a brow with a small smirk forming on his lips, realizing what you were doing. He'd let you continue anyway because lowkey he likes seeing you take care of him. He'll let you move or guide him around to help him get comfortable or clean up any scratches on his skin.

He'll murmur how much he loves you and thanks you as you do so. Sometimes you didn't need to verbalize your 'i love you's' because from the small actions he's received from you, he already knew.

Once you helped him wash and dry up, you both would be snuggled into your shared bed. Although he would never give up his role as the big spoon, one of his favorite positions is being intertwined with you. Your legs knitted together and holding you so close that he's practically melting into your warmth and love.

[irawhiti]

while everyone's rightfully talking about oppenheimer and its flaws regarding the erasure of japanese and native american voices regarding nuclear testing and detonations, i'd like to bring up the fact that pacific islanders have also been severely impacted by nuclear testing under the pacific proving grounds, a name given by the US to a number of sites in the pacific that were designated for testing nuclear weapons after the second world war, at least 318 of which were dropped on our ancestral homes and people. i would like if more people talked about this.

important sections are bolded for ease of reading. i would appreciate this being reblogged since it's a bit alarming how few people know about this.

--

in 1946, the indigenous peoples of pikinni (the bikini atoll) were forcibly relocated off of their islands so that nuclear tests could be run on the atoll. at least 23 nuclear bombs were detonated on this inhabited island chain, including 20 hydrogen bombs. many pasifika were irreversibly irradiated, all of them were starved during multiple forced relocations, and the island chain is still unsafe to live on despite multiple cleanup attempts. there are several craters visible from space that were left on the atoll from nuclear testing.

the forced relocation was to several different small and previously uninhabited islands over several decades, none of which were able to sustain traditional lifestyles which directly lead to further starvation and loss of culture and identity. there is a reason that pacific islanders choose specific islands to inhabit including access to fresh water, food, shelter, cloth and fibre, climate, etc. and obviously none of these reasons were taken into account during the displacements.

200 pikinni were eventually moved back to the atoll in the 1970s but dangerous levels of strontium-90 were found in drinking water in 1978 and the inhabitants were found to have abnormally high levels of caesium-137 in their bodies.

--

i'm going to put the rest of this post under a readmore to improve the chances of this being reblogged by the general public. i would recommend you read the entirety of the post since it really isn't long and goes into detail about, say, entire islands being fully, utterly destroyed. like, wiped off of the map. without exaggeration, entire islands were disintegrated.

--

as i just mentioned, ānewetak (the eniwetok atoll) was bombed so violently that an entire island, āllokļap, was permanently and completely destroyed. an entire island. it's just GONE. the world's first hydrogen bomb was tested on this island. the crater is visibly larger than any of the islands next to it, more than a mile in diameter and roughly fifteen storeys deep. the hydrogen bomb released roughly 700 times the energy released during the bombing of hiroshima. this would, of course, be later outdone by other hydrogen bombs dropped on the pacific, reaching over 1000 times the energy released.

one attempt to clean up the waste on ānewetak was the construction of a large ~380ft dome, colloquially known as the tomb, on runit island. the island has been essentially turned into a nuclear waste dump where several other islands of ānewetak have moved irradiated soil to and, due to climate change, rising seawater is beginning to seep into the dome, causing nuclear waste to leak out. along with this, if a large typhoon were to hit the dome, there would be a catastrophic failure followed by a leak of nuclear waste into the surrounding land, drinking water, and ocean. the tomb was built haphazardly and quickly to cut costs.

hey, though, there's a plus side! the water in the lagoon and the soil surrounding the tomb is far more radioactive than the currently contained radioactive waste. a typhoon wouldn't cause (much) worse irradiation than the locals and ocean already currently experience, anyway! it's already gone to shit! and who cares, right, the only ""concern"" is that it will just further poison the drinking water of the locals with radioactive materials. this can just be handwaved off as a nonissue, i guess. /s

--

at least 36 bombs were detonated in the general vicinity of kiritimati (christmas island) and johnson atoll. while johnson atoll has seemingly never been inhabited by polynesians, kiritimati was used intermittently by polynesians (and later on, micronesians) for several hundred years. many islands in the pacific were inhabited seasonally and likewise many pacific islanders should be classified as nomadic but it has always been convenient for the goal of white supremacy and imperalism to claim that semi-inhabited areas are completely uninhabited, claimable pieces of terra nullius.

regardless of the current lack of inhabitants on these islands, the nuclear detonations have caused widespread ecological damage to otherwise delicate island ecosystems and have further spread nuclear fallout across the entirety of the pacific ocean.

--

while the marshall islands, micronesia, and the surrounding areas of melanesia and polynesia were (and still are) by far the worst affected by these atrocities, the entirety of the pacific has been irradiated to some extent due to ocean/wind currents freely spreading nuclear fallout through the water and air. all in all, at least 318 nuclear bombs were detonated across the pacific. i say "at least" because these are just the events that have been declassified and frankly? i wouldn't be shocked to find out they didn't stop there.

please don't leave the atomic destruction of the pacific out of this conversation. we've been displaced, irradiated, murdered, poisoned, and otherwise mass exterminated by nuclear testing on purpose and we are still suffering because of it. many of us have radiation poisoning, many of us have no safe ancestral home anymore. i cannot fucking state this enough, ISLANDS WERE DISINTEGRATED INTO NONEXISTENCE.

look, this isn't blaming people for not talking about us or knowing the extent of these issues, but it's... insidiously ironic that i haven't seen a single post that even mentions pacific islanders in a conversation about indigenous voices/voices of colour being ignored when it comes to nuclear tests and the devastation they've caused.

[scoganz]

i dont care oh my god i dont care i dont fucking care

[idksmtms]

I Sit And Watch You... (tolerate it p2) (Daemon Targaryen x Niece/Wife!reader, Criston Cole x reader) - evermore series

P1: tolerate it

A/N: After intense and popular demand, I decided to write a part 2 to ‘tolerate it’ even though the goal for the series was one fic per song… ANYWAY! I hope you guys enjoy it! And sorry that it took me so long but I went soooo overboard writing this… 

Summary: After the realisation that your husband not only does not love you, but has been in love with your sister since before you were even married, you feel adrift in the world. But then suddenly, like a flame appearing in the dark of night, your heart is reignited by someone. This poses an entirely different problem for your poor little heart. 

Word count: ~17k (my god...)

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, Rhaenyra’s younger sister, canon typical incest, INCEST, age gap, unrequited love, angst, like a lot of angst, like ANGSTTTT, depictions of depression, bedrotting due to depression, cheating, insecurity, self-hatred, self-abuse, SMUT, PinV sex, oral (f!receiving), sex-related shame, feeling shame after having sex, just really sad tbh, forbidden relationship, probably OOC characters but I honestly can’t give a shit bc I want to write angst, probs typos (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You weren’t sure how long you drifted between sleep and wakefulness in the dark comfort of your bed. Every few hours one of the maids would poke their head through the crack in the curtains and ask if you were alright, if you wanted or needed anything. Sometimes you wouldn’t answer, would simply stare off into the distance as if you were watching worlds they could not see. Other times you would shake your head despondently, slow and stiff, your eyes not moving from the spot they had latched onto. 

Once you had turned to look at the young girl standing at the side of your bed, the curtains pulled back a little and her frowning face shadowed by the sun from behind her. You had simply stared into her face and your eyes had slowly begun to fill with tears until she panicked and slid the curtain shut and rushed out of your room. 

You never wanted anything, never needed anything, the maids noticed. They could see tear tracks on your cheeks from time to time, could see the dampness of it on your pillows, and they often muttered to each other about your state, but not a word was said to anyone unless they took notice of it themselves. 

The entire week you stayed in your bed, your father knew nothing of your state. He had washed his hands of you the second you had been married off to Daemon, and his sole focus in his slowly dwindling life was Rhaenyra. He had asked after you only once and received the response that you weren’t feeling particularly well. He had frowned, asked the maids to keep an eye on you, and left it at that. 

Rhaenyra, hearing of your sudden sickness had come to inquire after you but had received no response from the curtained bed and had felt too awkward around you since your wedding to even try and breach your little confinement. She had stood just beside the bed for a few moments, head tilted up to the ceiling as she tried to think of something, anything, to say but eventually just sighed and wished you well before hurrying out of the room. 

Alicent came by to visit you once every day. After hearing of you taking to your bed on the first day and refusing your meals by the evening, she had told Ser Criston to take up a post outside your door and inform her of any changes. She always came to sit on the edge of your bed for an hour to simply watch you or offer idle words about her days. She liked to believe you only responded to her, for you would often simply grasp her hand with shaking fingers as she sat with you, and closed your eyes to listen to whatever she had to say. But despite her best efforts, her gentle words to try and convince you to get out of bed or to at least change out of your nightgown went unanswered. 

Daemon visited you once in the entire week you were abed. When you had not shown yourself for dinner on the first evening, he had asked for the maidservant to check on you. He had become accustomed to having meals with you, to the comforting drone of chatter in the background while he sat at the table, and it felt freakishly odd not to have it. Though he was often described as a chaotic person, he was disciplined, and once set in a routine enjoyed keeping it that way. 

When the maids returned with a quiet “the Princess said she is not feeling well and has gone to her bed early”, he had simply shrugged and moved on, eating his meal while reading a scroll on the Valyrian histories. But then you were nowhere to be found on the second day, and the third, and when half of the fourth passed and he heard whispers of your complete absence from all of your duties, a tingle of discomfort had settled itself in the pit of his stomach. He wouldn’t say he was worried about you, but something in the air suddenly felt off and he wanted it fixed as soon as possible. The world being out of order simply wouldn’t do. 

In the sunlight hour just before dusk, when everything was bathed in a yellow slowly turning to orange and gave the world a warm hazy glow, he marched all the way to your chambers (the ones he had been supposed to share with you). When he had found Criston Cole standing guard at your door, he had almost snarled out loud like a disgruntled dog. He paused for a moment, grimacing as if someone had just put a lime in his mouth without his consent, and then pushed through the doors before remembering you were unwell and might be sleeping. He became quieter then, turning slowly to close the door behind himself and walking with light footsteps. 

Though it was still daytime, your room was pitch dark, illuminated only by the thin cracks of light that peeped between the curtains. His eyebrows furrowed, hands clenched into fists at his sides as he searched the room for any threat but found nothing in the low light. When he found the curtains around your bed closed, his heart began to thump wildly in his chest. For a moment, when he reached out and gently grasped the edges, he wondered what he would find in the bed. Would there be a corpse, rotten and shrivelled from how long it had been there? Or would there be an assassin, an attacker ready to pounce as soon as he illuminated them? 

He pulled the curtain back only enough to look through with one eye, but what he found was nothing more than the sad sight of a girl asleep in her bed. Though it was warm in the room, becoming almost stifling, you were under the covers. You were on your side, curled around the pillow you clutched tightly in your arms, and for a second he imagined that that’s what you would look like in bed with someone. Your hair was splayed out behind you messily, all over the pillow and some strands fallen upon your cheeks. Your mouth was parted just a little, lips moving with soft steady breaths. Your cheeks were flushed, and he could see the shine of sweat creeping forward from the back of your neck. 

He wasn’t sure exactly how long he stood there, watching you sleep, but he had found it difficult to tear himself away. How did one manage to look so sad while asleep? He wondered as he noticed the puffiness around your eyes and the way your fingers clenched into the pillow as if it would be taken from you at any moment. 

There seemed to be nothing else wrong with you, no gauntness in your cheeks or skin rash in sight, no visible ailment from how much of your body he could glean, but he decided to find the maester before the day was over. He left as quietly as he had entered, tucking the curtain closed again and shooting Criston a sneer as he came back out and strode down the hallway trying to remember where the maesters kept their quarters. 

You were in your bed for a week, leaving only to use the chamber pot behind the changing dividers before clambering right back into your bed. All your meals were brought in and left on the little table just beside your bed, and for the first three days were returned to the kitchens untouched. It was only after the third day went by, when Christys, once your nursemaid and later a kitchen hand when you had no more need of her as a child, noticed your third breakfast returning without even a nibble and made her way up to your chambers. 

She gently pulled your curtain back and stared at your pathetic little figure curled up under the sheets and sleeping though it was midday. Your eyelids were puffy and dark circles had begun forming under your eyes despite how much you seemed to have been resting. She placed the tray on the little table then sat down on the edge of the bed, just as she had once done when you were sick as a child. Her old weathered face was pulled into a worried frown and she gently reached out and caressed your head. Your eyes opened instantly, it appeared that you hadn’t been sleeping after all, and you watched her as if you had never seen her before. She smiled, or tried to, and caressed your cheeks with a little hum. 

“Little princess,” she called kindly, and you felt the urge to reach out and caress her face, all the wrinkles that had appeared since you had been a child under her care. Her skin was beginning to sag a little around her neck and cheeks and her face was all soft and pudgy, as you imagined a grandmother’s to be like. 

She did not try to convince you to leave the confines of your bed, to come out where the sun was shining and to leave the melancholia behind. She simply told you that if you would like to sit up a little, she would help you drink a sip of water, eat a bite of food, and perhaps you would feel a little better once you lay down again. 

You nodded, just one little dip of your head, and allowed her to help you shift your body up a little so you were sitting up against the mound of pillows. You reeked of sweat and the slightly sour smell that came from a stagnant room. Your hair was beginning to get matted and greasy but you did not seem to care about a thing, did not even notice it all. 

Christys brought the goblet to your lips, smiling joyfully as you began to take sips, then gulps as the thirst you had ignored took control of your body. You finished two full goblets before you were sated and lay back on the bed with your eyes closed for a moment, heaving as if you had been running through the halls with Rhaenyra as you had once done as children. Christys gently caressed your head, smiling fondly as you leaned into her touch. 

“Would you like to eat something, little princess?” She asked quietly, and you only opened your eyes. You looked unsure, as if you were aware of the world around you for the first time, and she didn’t give you the chance to refuse, simply brought the plate into her lap, spooned up a little bit of the broth, and brought it to your lips. Slowly, you opened your mouth and accepted it, humming softly when you realised it was the slightly spicy southern soup she used to make for you when you were sad as a child. 

You looked at Christys with your big eyes wide open, as if you were waiting for something, and she almost began to cry. That was exactly how you used to look at her when you were just six summers old, eyes wide, mouth open, as you waited for her to feed you another bite. But there had been nothing so despondent about you back then, no air of defeat hanging around you. What had happened to you that you became like that child again? 

Christys smiled at you, a thin watery smile, and held up the spoon again, watching you swallow the broth once more and gently saying “my good girl”, squeezing your hand in commendation as you allowed your lips to relax and smile for the first time since you had entered the bed. 

Once you had finished about half the meal, you shook your head and slowly began sliding back down under the covers. Christys simply nodded and placed the plate back on the tray. She gently took a hold of the covers and pulled them up until your chin, tucking them in a little around you before bending down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Rest well, my sweet princess,” she whispered, and when you closed your eyes, you finally looked serene. 

On the fourth day, just as night fell, a maester came to see you. You were sat up in bed again after Christys had come to feed you your dinner and had decided to stay sat up even as she left to bring the tray back down to the kitchens. Though the despondency hadn’t left you still, you felt marginally better now after eating and being doted upon by both Alicent and Christys. 

You still had no plans to leave your bed, you had become very quickly accustomed to the little space you had created for yourself in it, and were suddenly beginning to feel a debilitating sense of worry every time you imagined stepping foot outside of it and facing the rest of the world. Despite this, after your second day of proper meals, you were considering reaching out of your little cave and grabbing for a scroll or tome you might have left upon your little table if something still happened to be there. 

But just as you had finally resolved to do so, you heard the doors open and one of your maids announced that a maester had come to see you. You said nothing, hoping perhaps that your lack of an answer would send them away, but one curtain was simply pulled back and the maester gazed down at you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, as if you had been caught doing something you should not have been doing, but he smiled gently and came closer as you gulped in fright. 

“Your highness, word is that you have been taken ill for the past few days,” he spoke jovially, as if hoping his joking tone would heal you, but you simply shook your head and dipped it down to look at your lap. 

“Thank you for coming maester,” your voice was hoarse and croaky from a lack of use, and you quickly grabbed the goblet that Christys had left on your table to both take soothing sips of water and give your hands something to do. “But your visit is unnecessary.” You tried to smile but it wouldn’t show, and eventually you looked up at him with earnest eyes, hoping he would leave as soon as you were done speaking. “Though, yes, it is true that I have been confined to the bed, it is myself that has done the confinement. What ails me is not a matter of the body, but one of the heart.” You chewed on your lip, feeling as if you had said too much, but the maester smiled understandingly and gestured to the edge of your bed as if asking to sit. You nodded. 

“Your highness, if I understand correctly, you have been in your first quarrel with your husband, and it has much affected you.” You began to shake your head, to open your mouth to deny his claim, but he went on without allowing space for interjection. “But it is the way of marriages to have disagreements. You and your husband will likely have many more before the time of either of your deaths - gods willing it be a long time from now - but it is nothing to worry over so.” You pursed your lips and let him speak, hoping the spiel would end quickly and he would be out of your hair.  “And if you believe your actions have caused your husband to abandon his love for you, then know that it is he who came himself to find me and instruct me to visit you out of concern for your wellbeing.” He smiled almost triumphantly, and began standing from the bed as if he had solved everything already, but you looked up at him with a little frown. 

“Daemon went to you?” Your voice was small, confused, and he nodded quickly. 

“Yes, just as the sun set he found me and told me that you had not been out of bed for four days and nights and to heal you at once.” You nodded, not knowing what to say, and watched him walk out of the room, disgruntled that he had not closed the curtain behind himself. 

You were unsure as to the weird churning in your heart. It was all warm and giddy at the thought of Daemon being concerned for you, visiting you while you were asleep and then hunting the maester down for you. It was an act of caring, if not love, and your poor battered heart already began to churn with hope that maybe he could love you if he did not already. But then you were seeing him leaned over Rhaenyra, hair flopping forward onto his forehead. You saw the way she twisted back and forth at the waist teasingly, eyes dancing with mischief as she bit her lip and waited for him to bend down and kiss her silly. 

The hope crashed, the despondency returned, and the cycle began once more until you felt you were going mad and began smacking your head against the pillows until your brain felt physically shaken. You wanted to cry, but you were all cried out. You wanted to scream, but you had no voice. You wanted to run, but you couldn’t move. In the end, you lay back on the bed with your eyes closed and let your mind spiral. 

Why did he not love you? What was it you had done that made you unworthy of love? Or maybe it was not what you had done, but what you hadn’t. You hadn’t been pretty enough; you were always noticing blemishes on your skin or fat in places there shouldn’t be or the fact that all of your mother’s beauty had been inherited by Rhaenyra, the realm’s delight, your father’s precious and beautiful child, while you were left to yourself without compliment or radiance. You weren’t funny enough; you never had a joke on hand to tell, you weren’t confident enough to tell it anyway. You couldn’t command a room the way Rhaenyra could, or make everyone burst out with laughter at the simplest of words. You always felt stupid despite the amount of time you spent reading or conversing with maesters or travellers. You weren’t loving enough; your smile didn’t instil warmth in the hearts of others, perhaps your kind words weren’t kind enough or your efforts to demonstrate your love were not worthy enough. You simply hadn’t been enough. 

The final two days you spent in your bed, you spent thinking. What would you do when you were eventually forced back into the world? How would you continue on? It was obvious that you could not stay hiding in the little world you had created for yourself, if only because you desperately needed to bathe or had begun wanting to visit the library to pick your next read. You didn’t find the answer while still in your bed, but on the sixth day, Christys finally convinced you to get out and properly stretch your legs before having a bath. 

“A good stretch, a nice warm bath, getting dressed in your prettiest clothes, will do wonders for you little princess. You may not feel all the way better, but something will have changed and you will be the better for it.” You had nodded, thanking her in a small voice and slipping out of the bed as she went to get the maids to start your bath. 

You shivered when your feet touched the cold stone, and though your muscles were stiff at first, it felt good to walk the length of the room over and over until your weakened legs began to shake. You had pushed the curtains back not only on the bed, but on the windows too and had felt your spirits lift as the afternoon sunshine filled your room. 

When all the maids came in to fill the tub set at the side of your room, they smiled with relief and tittered over the state of you. With the sunshine and the friendly faces and jovial chatter, your mood began to rise again and despite the ever-present sadness that still lingered in the back of your mind, you felt good for a little while. 

They steeped you in the bath like you were tea, letting your skin become pruny as they washed your hair three times over, then scrubbed you down like you were one of the old dirty carpets from the storeroom. You felt pink and raw, like a new skin had emerged from under your old one and the world was a little brighter again. You even laughed when one of the maids made a joke about the habits of debauchery of one of the stableboys. 

You picked out a beautiful blush-pink dress that had been made from special fabric brought from Dorne. It was light and airy, designed more in the Dornish fashion leaving your shoulders and arms exposed except for thick straps that held the dress up on your upper arms. You twirled giddily in front of the mirror a few times before sitting down to have your hair done, you never could help yourself from it when you were in that dress. 

The maids enjoyed seeing you so alive again after the past week of worry and woe. They giggled happily and clapped for you, and were excited to do your hair. They weaved intricate braids and gathered some of them into a twist on the back of your head while leaving others to fall down your back over the last layer of your unbraided hair. They even wanted to rub rouge on your lips and cheeks and line your eyes but you had politely refused saying you were enjoying the feeling of being clean and fresh-faced, and would keep yourself that way for the rest of the day. Though you had been worrying about your beauty a few days prior, you knew you looked the way you did and couldn’t change it. If you weren’t pretty enough for Daemon, for anyone, you would simply have to learn to accept it and live with it, no matter how much you wished it to be otherwise. 

When you opened the doors to your room by yourself for the first time in a week, a little jittery to face the world once more, you were surprised by the guard who stood across the hall from your chambers. He was not your usual protector, the fresh faced Ser Arryk you had become used to, but a stoic faced Dornishman you believed you had seen trailing Rhaenyra before her wedding, but you couldn’t be sure. 

You gazed at him for a moment, at the shiny black eyes he averted to the floor as he bowed stiffly in his armour, the thick and beautiful hair combed perfectly back and the faint beard he sported around his mouth and over his jawlines, just past a stubble but not very much. His skin was beautiful and golden brown, like he had been born with the gentle touch of the sun, and for a moment you lost yourself while looking at him. He was exactly as you had imagined a knight to be, tall and dark and strong. He was limned with lethal power. 

You smiled, polite and surprised and small, and though he did not return it, only nodded in acknowledgement, you could see his face soften slightly and settle into something a little more gentle and blurred around the edges. You stepped a little closer, still a respectful distance from any man who was not your husband, and curtsied as if you were not the princess but a serving girl passing him in the halls. 

“Hello, Ser,” you began, voice almost whispery, “I mean not to offend, only to inquire where Ser Arryk has been off to and left you to his usual duties.” You were warm, and polite almost to a fault, Criston thought, and he had to purse his lips for a moment to stop a smile breaking out on his face at the innocent yet slightly smiley look you offered him. 

“Your highness, I am Ser Criston Cole,” and he bowed again as if he had not already done so when first laying eyes upon you, “and fret not about Ser Arryk shirking his duties. He has simply been posted elsewhere for the past week as the queen has personally asked me to oversee your protection while you were unwell.” 

“Oh,” you breathed out, smiling in both realisation and fondness as you thought about Alicent sacrificing her trusted guard for you. “The queen is a kind soul,” you spoke with reverence, smiling at the floor for a moment before looking back to him. He had been watching you the entire time, as if he simply could not avert his eyes lest you disappear in a cloud of smoke the second his attention was elsewhere. “Well, if you are still on duty as my protector, would you care to accompany me to the library for the afternoon? I am in desperate need of new reading material.” You asked it as if it was not his job to follow you everywhere you went, as if he needed convincing to accompany you and wasn’t under threat of being a deserter, a traitor to the crown if he refused. 

“Wherever you go, I will follow, your highness,” he stated simply, holding his hand out as if telling you to lead the way. You nodded in return, but stood still for a moment as if you were a bit dazed and lost in your surroundings. Then you shook your head a little, like a puppy shaking water off its fur, and continued down the hallway with your light, graceful steps. 

As you walked, Criston a stride behind, he watched you with curious (and apprehensive) eyes. You had always been a distant, rather obscure, figure in his life. Someone he walked past in the hallways of the Keep or only knew by name. When Rhaenyra had first chosen him to be a new member of the King’s Guard, he had been briefed on the entire immediate family, anyone who he could possibly be assigned to if he was not with Rhaenyra, and of course you had been included in it, but he had not been told much, and had never needed it either, for Rhaenyra took up so much of his time and never spent any of hers with you. Not once had he heard her mention her younger sister, nor meet with you for more than a moment in passing in the hallway during which he bent his head in respect and allowed you two your privacy.  

There was only one moment he remembered clearly from that time. He had been strolling through the gardens with Rhaenyra on an idle and rather humid afternoon. It felt like the entirety of King’s Landing had been poured in syrup, each movement one made was slow, lethargic, succumbing to the heat of the summer. Rhaenyra, still in her youthful blissfulness, her mischief knowing no bounds in her rebellion against her father and Alicent, had been slowly twisting her way down the path, twirling a plucked flower in her hands as he followed. She would occasionally speak to him, say something witty or sarcastic or give a boring observation about something or other, and he would hum or nod or offer whatever thought had conjured in his head at the time. Though it was boring, it was also comfortable. 

Then, a light tinkling laugh carried over the air making them both pause. They couldn’t see you yet, you were past the next curve and some bushes still hid the courtyard from which the laugh came. Rhaenyra paused where she was on the path, staring ahead and continuing to twirl the flower in her hand before turning around and walking back toward where he stood. 

“I have suddenly changed my mind,” she spoke quietly, eyes distant as she chewed on her lip, “perhaps finding a cool sitting room somewhere in the Keep would be better suited for this afternoon.” He only nodded, he could sense the change in her mood, the pensive air that now hung about her, but before they began walking, hurried little steps came down the path and you were barreling into their view. 

“Oh!” You let out a surprised little sound, pausing and almost falling backward in your surprise as you brought a hand to your heart. He watched the fabric of your dress, flowing and beautiful, sway with you, your bare shoulders and the long bell sleeves draping down your arms. The light fabric and the way it moved around you like air reminded him of the time he had spent in Dorne, of the trees swaying in a midsummer breeze. Your cheeks were flushed and a happy little smile widened your mouth, eyes sparkling with girlish joy. Your hair was braided in the fancy way all Targaryens braided theirs, but there was something more free and wild about yours compared to Rhaenyra’s. “Sister,” you breathed out quietly, smiling almost bashfully when you looked upon her. He could tell neither of you were close, but you seemed to put in much more effort to be kind to her than she did in even acknowledging you. 

“Sister,” Rhaenyra responded, almost curt, a tight-lipped smile pushing uncomfortably on her face. 

“How do you fare on this fine day?” You asked, clasping your hands in front of yourself. 

“Fine,” she answered simply, and a rather awkward silence fell between you as you nodded, pursing your lips and suddenly looking rather downtrodden. 

“I’m sorry to have intruded upon your leisure time,” you spoke quietly, “and excuse any impropriety I may have shown in running through the halls, I was simply excited. I…” you looked down to the floor and bit your lip to control your smile. “Some special new thread has been brought in from Dorne and I wished to immediately start on my new embroidery project.” You spoke as if she had asked after you, when Criston had noted a clear absence of not only Rhaenyra’s questioning of you but of her seeming interest in your presence. But you continued as if you were used to it, as if you believed she wanted to ask these questions but simply chose to let you speak, and something churned in his stomach at the thought. “I would like to embroider my dragon saddle with some designs, and this thread would be perfect for it, hardy but pretty,” and you looked at your hands giddily as if you were already holding it. Then you seemed to bow your head for a moment as you said your goodbyes, “I shall leave you to your leisure, Sister,” and you walked off hurriedly past them, as if you hadn’t noticed his presence the entire time. 

As he looked upon you now on the way to the library, he realised a change had overcome you since that time. Just as one had overcome him. Though you were dressed more in the Dornish style, like a summer sky on the hottest day of the year, you reminded him more of the monsoon rains at the island’s southernmost tip, warm drops of rain falling from orange-grey skies at sunset. Your steps were no longer light and dance-like. Though they were still graceful, they were careful, measured. You held yourself differently, much more still, and he couldn’t imagine you skipping or running girlishly through the halls. Even your face, having grown a little more, had taken on a sombre quality. Your eyes were thoughtful, slightly closed off, and… sad. And your face rested on something serene now, something gently heartbreaking though you were neither smiling nor frowning. 

He followed you all the way into the library and then back and forth through the spaces between the shelves. Occasionally you would turn to him and point out a tome you had once read as a girl, or the scrolls you had only just returned the week before. Then you would smile up at him, as if his silent company was most cherished by you, and it soothed something in him he didn’t know was hurt in the first place. 

Later in the evening, when all the candles had been lit and you had been returned to your room to prepare for dinner and Criston had been relieved of his duties for a few hours by the return of Ser Arryk, he found a messenger from the queen requesting his presence in her parlour. The entire way there, he thought about you, as if his mind could find nothing else interesting other than the way you had gently refused him from taking the books from your arms as you traversed through the library. Though he had taken the first few, when he began to reach for the little pile you had accumulated in your arms to add to his own, you had shuffled away from him with a little huff, saying “you have quite enough load as it is, Ser Criston. I may have been…” you hesitated before choosing your next word, “unwell for the past few days, but I am no invalid, and am perfectly capable of doing my own hefting.” And at that you had hefted the pile a little higher into your arms, and he could see them trembling a little as you hurried your step a little to reach one of the tables. 

“My apologies, Princess,” he had answered with the hint of a teasing smile, and you had beamed up at him as if that little show of emotion was everything you had wanted and more. 

“Unnecessary and therefore unaccepted,” you had quipped before turning your back on him and dropping the books onto the table. 

As he thought about it on his walk to the queen’s sitting rooms, he had to swallow down a chuckle that threatened to break out at the memory. Though most of the time he had spent guarding your rooms was uneventful, those few hours were joyful and distracting. Even as you had sat at the little table, forearms leaned against the edge, it had been satisfying to simply watch you scour the pages, your lips moving as you read the words. A sudden request for you to read aloud to him had even entered his thoughts at one point, if only to hear your soft voice a little more, and he had needed to clear his throat at the intrusion upon his mind. You had glanced up at that, eyes wide and asking if he was alright without saying a word, and he had simply bowed his head so you would continue undisturbed. 

When he reached the doors to the queen’s rooms, he knocked three times. He was quickly told to enter in her quiet yet firm voice, and found her sitting at her writing desk as the toddler Helaena crawled about the floor near the fireplace with her maids while another cradled the baby Aemond. Alicent beckoned him to close the door and come closer, and he obliged quickly, coming to stand right beside her desk and leaning down a little so he could hear her clearly over the children’s babbling and the chatter of the nursemaids. 

“Ser Criston,” she began, heaving a breath out that made her shoulders drop a little and folding her hands one on top of the other on her desk. She smiled up at him as if content and a little weary. “You have been a loyal knight, and a comforting presence for me in my time at the Red Keep. Do not think I am dissatisfied with your service as I request of you what I am about to do so,” and she paused, pursing her lips for a moment and looking at her two children before turning back to him. “I would like for you to change your posting to be sworn guard of Princess Y/n. I trust you will find a worthy replacement for yourself at my side and will not question whomever you choose.” She paused again, eyes pensive and mouth opening and closing as she tried to think of ways to explain her thoughts. She closed her eyes, no more than a long blink, then sighed long and low. “I have feared for her since the day of her betrothal, and I fear still that the toll of her marriage is becoming too much to bear. But the princess is self effacing, and would never dare to burden another with any of her worries or woes. I simply wish for you to be the loyal knight to her as you have been to me, and if you see a change in her spirits, or any… behaviours displayed by her husband that may be a cause of concern for her, come to me with these observations and I shall do my best to aid her with the hand she has been dealt.” She smiled up at Criston as if to say ‘you understand, don’t you?’ and he nodded, glancing about her desk as if he was already thinking about everything she had said. “Good,” Alicent finished simply and dismissed him with a wave of her hand telling him to start as soon as possible. And with that, he went to find Ser Arryk and realight upon his duties at your side. 

You were usually quick to be ready for dinner on time, never wanting to keep your husband waiting lest it harden his heart to you anymore than it already was, but at your first dinner returning to his company since your discovery, you took your time. Until the last second you toyed with the option of simply not attending, saying though you had felt better during the day, the bout of wellness had ended and you needed to take to your bed once more. Even sitting at the vanity as your maids redid your hair and applied rouge to your lips and cheeks, your bed seemed to call to you, a siren song begging you to return to your self-imposed conferment and spend the rest of your days hidden away. But you could not. 

When you were ready to leave, you were surprised to find Ser Criston Cole returned to his post. He had informed you of the change of guard before he left, but you had believed he would be gone for a whole shift before returning (or not returning at all). He nodded to you as you walked out, and you paused just in front of him with a surprised smile. 

“Ser Criston! You told me Ser Arryk would be returning as my guard for the evening!” He nodded sheepishly, looking away for a moment, and you almost caught a little smile brewing at his lips before his face returned to its natural stoicness. 

“The queen has decreed that my oath of service to her be transferred to you, your highness,” and the way he said it was so simple, a man following an order. 

“The queen?” You asked, frowning a little in confusion. 

“Yes. I hope you are not put-off by it, your highness. If you wish to choose your own King’s Guard or have Ser Arryk return to his duties, I will speak with the queen myself on your behalf.” He seemed eager not to upset you, brown eyes widening a little in earnestness as he spoke, and you smiled, waving off his concern. 

“No, no, Ser Criston, nothing like that. You have served Alicent well in your time with her and if she trusts you, then I do so as well. I simply wonder if she has done this out of some misplaced concern about my wellbeing,” but the way you said it was warm, as if you appreciated that she had done it nonetheless. 

“I could not say,” he replied quietly, but the way he looked to the ground made you believe he was holding something back. You decided not to question it. 

“Well, off we go, Ser Criston. I believe I am late to dinner with my husband,” your joviality was forced, he could see it in your distracted eyes and the tight smile you tried oh so hard to keep up. Your back was rigid rather than the naturally straight posture you usually kept from years of training, and your clasped hands in front of you were fidgeting with the rings upon your fingers. 

He could see the wedding band you had been given, a band of gold around a big fat ruby. It screamed more of your husband’s tastes than your own, gaudy compared to the delicate jewellery you had worn during the day.

 He thought it rather funny that you wore a ring on the same finger of your opposite hand, this one more simple, a thin band of silver inlaid with tiny sapphires all around. The blue was bright against your skin and your dress, and though it seemed often polished, it looked a little worn and old. He wished to ask you about it, but simply bit his tongue and followed you to the next wing in which the dining room you and Daemon used resided. Once more he noted how odd it was that husband and wife ate dinner together but not ever in their own chambers. 

He stopped outside the doors, turning his back on them and subsequently facing you, and he noted the way you were stopped just in front of them. You were staring ahead of you fearfully, as if whatever lay behind that door was the greatest enemy of all, the thing you feared most in the world, and you seemed to revert to the little girl you had once been, hands shaking and lower lip twitching as if you were about to cry. The urge to comfort you as one would a child raised in him, and he gazed upon you with a pitiful, dog-like sadness. He cleared his throat. 

“Your highness, admonish me if I break any code of impropriety,” he began quietly, not looking right at you but somewhere just above your head. “But if you do not wish to dine with your husband, I can carry in the message for you and escort you back to your chambers at once.” 

You turned to look at Criston, into his eyes that had softened much since you had first met and the little crinkle just above his brow. You smiled, albeit it being thin and watery as you suddenly felt the inexplicable urge to cry, but you shook your head. You wiped at your under eyes until you felt that your tears had dissipated and took deep breaths until your lips no longer shook and the lump in your throat had been swallowed down. 

“No,” you shook your head, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them and shaking your head again. “No, that will not be necessary.” But you smiled at him in thanks, and reached out to gently touch the forearm he held over his stomach. Though you only touched metal, your fingertips tingled and you felt like your septa would come running in to scold you for touching a man who was not your husband. Nothing happened, and you simply curled your fingers inward and brought the fist to your side. Criston watched you like you were created anew before him. And then you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you swiftly, and leaving him to the silence of the hallway, and the crackling of fire in the sconce directly ahead of him. 

For the first time you entered the room when Daemon was already seated at the table. He looked back as the doors opened and found you striding in with your head held high, more confident than he had ever seen you before, and he raised an eyebrow at the spectacle. Your lips were pursed tightly, and your eyes were wary, but he couldn’t see it. You walked all the way to the table and sat down swiftly across from him, folding your hands in your lap and only looking so far as your own plate. He hmphed, twisting back to sit properly in his seat and resting his elbows on the table as he watched you. You glanced up, and when you noticed his eyes on you, you seemed to wilt a little like a leaf being boiled in front of him. 

“It seems you have recovered, niece,” and after a moment, you nodded. He never called you wife, you realised. No endearing name like dearest or ‘my heart’. It was always either your name or ‘niece’. 

“Yes,” you answered, and then the servants were bringing the dishes to the table and you two remained silent until they had returned to their spots against the walls. 

Daemon felt a little startled as he poked at the chicken on his plate. It was so… quiet. Usually by this point in the evening he would have been briefed only on the contents of your morning, and though he often lost himself in his thoughts or simply didn’t pay attention, the chatter in the background had become surprisingly… soothing. He looked up at you, but you were simply swirling your soup around and around with your spoon. The silence was grating. He clenched his jaw and put his knife and fork down onto the plate with a little ‘clink’ sound. 

“Was that Crispin’s voice I heard at the door?” He asked a little tersely, and your eyes were wide as they shot up to him. Wide and almost fearful, he would think. “He stood guard at your door while you were sick, you know? Has Alicent finally tired of her dog?” 

“I-” you gulped, glancing all over the table but never at him. You looked anguished, pained, and he wondered if whatever had kept you sick in your bed had not fully left you. “It’s Criston.” 

He looked at you, blinking a little quicker, mouth a little open. Your voice had been small, like the voice children used to wake their parents from their beds, and he couldn’t quite believe you had said what you said. 

“Come again?” And he put his hand to his ear, leaning in and squinting his eyes exaggeratedly, all a show for his heart had begun to pound a little in his chest. 

“His name is Criston. Ser Criston Cole,” you answered, and he clenched his jaw so hard it throbbed for a moment after he released it. You still refused to look at him, and it was beginning to irritate him to the ends of the earth. Though you had not been a particular fan of eye contact before, whenever you had spoken to him at the wedding, at the dinners that followed, you had always looked up at him with big eyes and a tentative little smile. Always looking for his approval. He simply hummed and leaned back to continue eating. 

The dinner was entirely silent after that, and though you left feeling relieved and a little stronger, Daemon was left unsatisfied, something suddenly unsettled in his chest as he watched you breeze out of the door in your fluttering gown without a look back. 

Two weeks on from that day, and you had established a new routine. You would spend the morning hours as you had done before, ensuring everything in your husband’s personal life was perfect, from newly ordered bedsheets and the restuffing of his pillows, to ordering only his favourite cuts of meat and ensuring the squires polished his armour regularly. Perhaps it was out of habit, perhaps out of social convention that you had never once flouted, or simply because despite your anguish when you even thought of him, you may never stop pursuing the need for your husband’s love and approval, but you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it. 

These hours were usually rather hazy in your memory, a series of yes’s and a grey melancholic sheen over your eyes, but after a slow and lazy lunch (usually in Alicent’s company) you always felt better for the latter half of your day. 

You did what you had once done before your marriage, carrying a book or your latest embroidery project in your arms and meandering through the courtyards until you found one devoid of people (or at least devoid of a crowd) and settling down under the shade of a tree. Since your marriage you had found the company of your ‘friends’ grating. Some found pleasure only in the love of their husbands, speaking on and on about the gifts of jewellery and flowers and the showers of attention they received while you simmered in jealousy and an overwhelming feeling of failure. Others found pleasure in telling racy stories of their escapades in the bedchamber(often not with their husbands) and here you too were jealous or simply lost. They described feelings and sensations you had only ever known in hints, desires you didn’t know one could desire, actions of those desires you didn’t think were possible. 

Soon you felt so estranged from them all, so alone in your circumstance, that you simply avoided the gatherings. Though you did sometimes miss the camaraderie of the ladies, the easy laughter and womanly loyalty, you found that it wasn’t such a devastating loss. Especially when you found such a thoughtful companion in Ser Criston Cole. 

He was as stoic as many a knight of the King’s Guard, but you found a certain kinship in his silence and soft looks. He seemed to understand the sadness that seemed to tinge even your happiest moods. He never questioned the sudden onslaught of tears that sometimes attacked you during the day, only offering a handkerchief if you began looking around desperately for one. Nor did he question why you avoided the wing in which Rhaenyra and her soon to be growing family lived, even if it was at your own expense. Or why at even the barest hint of Rhaenyra’s voice you turned and almost ran in the other direction. Though he often only spoke when he was spoken to and usually chose the least verbal answer, his consistent presence and vigilant watch over you was comfortable. It may be only a job for him, but to always have someone watching over your safety and comfort felt… frankly, amazing. 

“Ser Criston?” You looked up at him from your place nestled between the thick roots of an old oak tree in the western-most courtyard of the keep. 

It was one of the colder days of the summer though the sun was shining brightly. A brisk breeze had picked up over the evening before and rarely settled. You were dressed in your Targaryen colours, a black dress with red accents, and if it hadn’t been for the bright pops of colour he would think you had donned your mourning shroud. 

Your hair had been left undone for the day, and you seemed to enjoy the freedom of letting it fly around you untamed. It made you look younger, wilder, and Criston found it an enjoyable sight. You seemed a little bleary after your lunch and laid your head back against the trunk of the tree as you read. You had tried to convince Criston to sit down multiple times and though he refused each time, you chose not to comment about the way he sometimes leaned subtly against the trunk of the tree. 

“Yes, Princess?” He answered, tilting his head down to look at you. You smiled, you derived a secret kind of pleasure when he addressed you so. 

“Would you enjoy this more if I read aloud to you? I fear you must find these afternoons rather dull.” Your smile was almost teasing, and you were successful in eliciting a little smile in return. 

“Do not trouble yourself on my account, Princess,” his voice was soft and he looked away from you to smile at the floor. Your entire body suddenly felt warm and almost giddy. 

“It would be no trouble, I am already reading after all. I simply hope to ensure you do not find my company exceptionally boring,” you said it with a little laugh, bringing your hand up to your mouth as you giggled, and you couldn’t be sure if the sound you heard was actually the little huffing chuckle you believed it to be. When you looked back up at him, his eyes seemed to shine and you wanted to push your face so close to his that those eyes were all you saw. You cleared your throat and averted your gaze as the tips of your ears began burning. 

It was quiet for a few moments, only the rustle of the leaves and the soft sounds of your breathing as you lay your head back against the tree and closed your eyes.  

“I enjoy your company,” it was soft, low, barely audible, but you heard it and your entire body tensed. You refused to open your eyes for a moment, wanting to sit in the words, in the pleasant feeling of being liked, of being enjoyed. When you did open your eyes again and look at him, he had already trained his gaze somewhere across the yard. You cleared your throat and began to read aloud. 

Since your wedding, your husband came to visit your bedchambers once every fortnight. He would knock quietly on the door at the hour of the bat, when the moon was highest in the sky, and enter before you could say anything. Upon the sight of him, you would usually begin walking toward the bed, climbing over the covers to situate yourself in the middle. There were very few candles lit at that hour, and everything was shrouded in a soft secretive light. 

He would be quick to follow you onto the bed, simply undoing the laces on his trousers and slipping them down a little so his cock could bob out. There was never any need for either of you to get undressed further than this. 

Usually he would have you on your hands and knees, a pillow shoved under your hips and another below your head so you could rest the side of your face against it. It was carnal, and unfeeling, how you imagined animals coupled in the wild. You often felt a little sick afterward, like for a moment your body had not been your own, and you would wait to move from the bed until you heard the door close behind him. It was different this time. 

Your spirits were lifted after an enjoyable afternoon reading to Criston and though you continued to stay silent at your dinners with Daemon, you were too lost in your own thoughts to feel tense and skittish. You allowed yourself to be lost in the memories, to imagine the breeze blowing over your skin again and pretend you could hear the leaves rustling above your head once more. 

Daemon had tried to initiate a conversation a few times over the weeks since your silence began, but you answered sparingly, either humming a response or shrugging or simply nodding. He had again attempted this night, but you hadn’t even bothered to answer any of his inquiries, staring off into space as you slowly chewed on your piece of chicken, an odd show of rudeness from you. He had simply taken to watching you instead. 

You were dressed like a true Targaryen princess, a bright red dress like you had bathed in blood. The sleeves weren’t really sleeves for they were cut down the middle and hung from your shoulders at your sides and your arms were bare despite the cold day. Your hair had been threaded into one large braid and you wore gold jewellery, delicate ruby drop earrings to match your dress and wedding ring. Your mother’s ring, the one gift she had left you days before her death clashed with the rest of your clothes but he had never once seen you without it. 

Daemon was not often surprised with himself, but as he looked upon your face he felt he had never seen it before. He traced the slope of your nose, the curve of your jaw, the set of your brow bone and the flesh of your cheeks with his eyes. The curve of your eyelashes, the shape of your cupid’s bow, the slant of your eyebrows, was all new to him. You looked exactly the same as on the day of your wedding, but he felt he had not seen his wife before. And an even greater mystery, something random and unexplainable, was the sudden desire to know her. 

When you finished your meal and were about to leave, he stood with you and began following you out. Upon realisation, you paused just before the door and turned to look at him. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, but when you didn’t continue on your way and simply kept staring up at him in confusion he sighed and walked to stand just in front of you. 

“I shall accompany you to your chambers this evening, wife,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him, “to share some wine and… converse.” It sounded almost painful coming out of his mouth, as if he was uncertain and disguising it with a false bravado. But you could see the way he glanced away from you and to the corners of the room, the way his hands fidgeted a little with each other and how his body looked like it was desperate to march out of the room but his entire willpower was devoted to keeping him standing exactly where he was. 

“Alright,” you whispered, and a blush filled your cheeks like hot water being poured into a mug. Surely sharing a cup of wine was a euphemism. You twisted the fabric of your sleeves into your hands as you walked half a stride behind Daemon. 

All of Criston’s training had to be used when Daemon came walking out of the room shortly followed by you. He had endured the look of disgust that overcame Daemon’s features as he laid eyes upon him, then felt his heart melt at the little smile you offered. More and more he felt himself fall victim to your charms and each passing day had the feeling of a march closer and closer to heartbreak. 

He had begun to follow you, as was his duty, but when Daemon heard his heavy-booted footsteps, he paused and turned around with a fake smile of kindness and a very real look of triumph in his eyes. 

“You may leave us, Crispin, I am experienced enough in combat to protect my wife,” and for a moment Criston thought Daemon would try and wrap his arm around your shoulders. “Take a break, visit a brothel.” Criston couldn’t control the grimace that moved his lips. You were looking at the wall, hands twisting and twisting in the fabric, and he watched you with the sudden overwhelming need to take your hands gently in his and kiss each of your fingers until your hands relaxed. 

“Would you like me to relieve my duty for the evening, Princess?” He asked quietly, as if only your voice mattered, and not once had he looked up at Daemon since your uncle spoke. You smiled, equal parts joyful and thankful, and looked up into his eyes. 

“It is alright, Ser Criston, you deserve some time devoted to yourself. But when I next open my door in the morning, I expect to see you there,” the order in your voice was so joking and pathetic, the fake frown on your face shining with mirth; he half expected you to wag your finger at him. He smiled, not for the first time resisting the urge to reach forward and press loving kisses to the backs of your hands, and bid you goodbye with a bow before walking off in the other direction. 

You stood there for a moment, watching him walk away, when Daemon cleared his throat behind you. You turned around and gazed up at him through your lashes. Every ounce of irritation Damon had felt a moment ago seemed to suddenly become secondary. He held out his hand to you, and you simply stared at it. You could see the calluses on his fingers from where he gripped his sword. He wiggled his fingers, watching you with raised eyebrows as if you were going dumb before his eyes. Slowly, with a hand that twitched like a skittish deer, you settled your hand into his. 

He looked down at it and felt his chest bloom with warmth at how small your fingers were against his, how gentle they looked against his palm. He wrapped up your hand in his own and gripped it firmly, not tight enough to hurt but you would have to tug against it if you wanted to get away. Your fingers became warm and a tingle went up your arm. You weren’t sure if it was a good or bad feeling. 

He led you all the way back to your chambers and even held the door open for you. He didn’t let go of your hand as you passed him, instead following quickly after you and closing the door quickly behind him. It made a loud sound as it closed, not a slam but the sound of wood hitting wood a little hurriedly, and you jumped, trying to tug your hand out of his. He didn’t let it go, simply shushed you a little and led you to the little seating area by the fireplace. He settled you into a chair and, finally letting go of your hand, went to the side table that had a jug of wine ready on it. You turned in your seat and watched as he poured two cups and brought them back to you. He smirked a little when he noticed you but didn’t say anything. He sat in the chair next to yours with a little huff and sipped from his glass. You simply held yours in your hands and looked into it. 

“Will you not say anything at all to me this evening, wife?” He asked, and you weren’t sure if he was teasing or there was a harsh edge to his voice. 

“What would you like me to say?” You asked quietly, not moving your eyes from the cup of wine but watching him through your periphery. He paused at that, eyes trained on you in the way you imagined he faced a problem on the battlefield. 

“Hm, that is a rather good question,” and he smirked as he took another big gulp from his cup. He drained it right after, and you watched him get up and refill it. You hadn’t touched anything more than the cup the wine was in. You turned to watch him again. 

Daemon stood at the table with the jug of wine and stared at it. Then, slowly, he put his own cup down and spun on his heel. He walked back over to you, eyes on your face, and your breath caught in your throat. He was not walking quickly, but not slowly either, and it felt like a lifetime before he found his way to you. He gripped where your head met your neck and used his thumb to lift your head until you were craning it up to him. Then he bent at the waist and pressed his mouth to yours like he was sipping wine right from the centre of the barrel. 

You didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, and the fear of tipping over the cup of wine made you grip it until your fingertips turned white. Your eyes stayed open, but you couldn’t see anything more than a skin-coloured. Your mouth had opened a little in a silent gasp when he had first kissed you, and he used his lips to open it further, to plunge his tongue into your mouth and taste you. He tasted of wine and the slight sourness of alcohol, and you remembered how much you’ve always disliked the drink. 

It was an odd sensation that brewed within you as he kissed you and tried to coax your response. It was something you had wanted for so long, a simple act that should have been common between man and wife that you had been denied as long as you had been able to call yourself a wife. And now that you had it, you had it so freely given and initiated by the husband who hadn’t desired you, an uncomfortable mix of triumph and repulsion, glee and disgust made your stomach churn. You found that you no longer wanted the kiss he so freely offered and it made you want to cry with disappointment. 

He pulled away, not far so you could feel his heavy breaths against your lips and his eyes blurred together in a hazel slash. He simply watched you, gaze switching between your eyes, and for a moment he looked dissatisfied. Was it you that caused it in him, or was it his inability to see what he wished for? He moved his hand down a little from the base of your skull to the back of your neck and caressed his thumb along the front of your throat. The thought that he could simply press inward and strangle you flashed in your head. 

Daemon leaned down again and as you closed your eyes in preparation, he used his other hand to pluck the cup of wine from your grip and deposit it on the table. You watched the wine slosh almost to the edge but swing back the other way before it could spill. He used the same hand to grasp your arm and urge you to stand. You did without struggle. The hand on the back of your neck was uncomfortably warm and the callus on his index finger was rough against your cheek as he pushed a strand of hair out of your face. 

“Come to bed,” he whispered, and you nodded, allowing him to lead you to the edge of the four-poster. He turned you around and began undoing your braid until your hair fell in waves down your back. He caressed it, soft and reverent, before undoing the back of your dress and slipping it over your shoulders. The top fell down to your waist and he pushed it over your hips until it was in a heap at your feet. He kissed along your bare shoulders, first on the left then on the right, and smiled against the skin when you shivered. His hands moved up and down your arms, warming you up, and goosebumps pimpled on your skin. He pushed the straps of your shift down your arms, and you let him. The crumpled fabric slipped easier over your skin and joined the pile on your feet. 

Everything was hazy in the world, like smoke had filled the room and you could feel it only slightly against the back of your throat. You were not you, and the room was not your room, but some ethereal version of each thing. Nothing of consequence would occur in these moments. 

He turned you around then, and gently cupped both your breasts in his hands. He caressed them, ran the pads of his thumbs over your nipples as they hardened in the cold air, held their weight in his hands and felt the hot underside of your breasts. Your breath was shallow, chest quivering, and he bent down to kiss each breast, hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses that made you gulp with a dry mouth and throat. He licked each nipple, bit each one, and when your hand came up to grip his arm as you swayed a little, he pulled away. 

“Sit and lay back,” he ordered, gripping your hips and guiding you backward until your thighs hit the bed and you were sat on the edge. He reached up and pushed your shoulders down until you were flat on your back with your legs hanging over, toes just barely brushing the cold floor. You felt like the dolls you had once played with, stiff and inanimate, moved only at the will of others. 

Daemon was quick to rid himself of his clothes. His jacket was already crumpled on the floor and his shirt was thrown through the air to land somewhere on the stone floor past your bed. The laces on his pants were undone so quickly you thought he might rip them right off, but he simply loosened them until he could push them and his underthings off. 

Daemon got on his knees between your legs and carefully raised them so your knees bent over his shoulders and your calves rested against his back. He pulled you forward a little more and gazed at the space between your legs. Your skin was tinged yellow from the candlelight and he had never thought a woman more beautiful than in that moment. He moved his hands up your thighs and rested both flat on your stomach. He pressed his face to your core, licking over your lips and between the seam until the taste of you was imprinted on his tongue and your slick was smeared over his mouth and pushed its way down to his chin. 

You lay back with your eyes clenched shut and your mouth open, chest heaving as you panted like a dog. Your hands were twisted in the sheets and the skin on your chest had gone red. Your mind was somehow rooted in your body yet floating away at the same time. You existed in every cell, every sensation, the feeling of his wet tongue against that little spot right at the top that made fire erupt in your stomach made you moan louder than you ever had. You hadn’t even known you were capable of moaning. 

Daemon lapped against you like a dog licking up a treat, wide and wet and rough against the inflamed little nub that twitched with your heartbeat. He felt you cum on his tongue, felt the quiver of your stomach against his hands, the way you curled upwards a little. He tasted it, the sudden increase of slick against his lips. He seemed to drink your entire being as he kneeled between your legs. 

You looked down as he pressed his cheek to your inner thigh. His face was warm against where he lay it down and you could feel his heavy breaths over your core, like gentle fingers brushing over the sensitive skin. He met your eyes, his dark and looking black in the dim light. For a moment you wanted to get up and run. It was not your uncle but a demon between your legs, sent to the world by the old gods to devour you. You pushed up, suddenly scared, but he was quick to slither up your body and press his mouth to yours, press his tongue to yours, fill you with the light sticky taste of your core. You heaved against his mouth and one of your hands came up to clutch his shoulder. He took it as encouragement. 

Daemon lay his weight over you and stared into your eyes. You could feel his hand at the apex of your thighs, haphazardly grabbing his cock and bumping the tip against you until he found your entrance. You held your breath, the pressure in your chest steadily increasing, and waited for the inevitable sting and drag. It hurt less for the first time, more like tiny concentrated bolts of lightning zipping along the flesh inside you, and you huffed out a breathy sound, both hands clutching at his arms as he pushed into you. 

Each time Daemon bedded you, he always made this expression, this look of pain and pleasure that had his eyebrows scrunching together and his mouth opening as he closed his eyes. This time he kept his eyes open, as much as he could anyway, and looked straight at you as his hips met yours. Your spine felt fluid, like it no longer existed and therefore you were incapable of movement. 

“Tighter than a virgin,” he huffed out, and you clenched around him which only made him rock his hips. You weren’t sure if you liked his words or not, a little grimace on your face. You began to close your eyes as his hips began to slowly rock into you, gulping as you panted, but he gripped your chin tightly in his hand. “No, keep looking at me,” and so you did. 

It was painful to look into his eyes as he pushed into you. You felt the pleasure shooting from your core, the natural tightening of your thighs around his hips, but an equally painful internal turmoil mingled with it. You looked into the blackness of his blown-wide pupils and saw the darkness of the hallway in which he had stood kissing Rhaenyra. In his grip on your chin you imagined how Rhaenyra felt when he had gently tipped her chin up to press his lips to hers reverently. You wondered if she knew the weight of him on top of her exactly the way you knew it now. 

Daemon leaned down and broke eye contact to press his face into your neck, to smell your skin and sweat. He panted against you, eyes closed in the blackness of the little space around his face and he pushed his hips in and out faster despite how much he wanted to keep everything slow. He wanted to feel you, to know you as intimately as a man and wife should know one another. He knew nothing else but this. You whimpered a little into the air, like a bird falling from a branch, and he wrapped you up a little tighter in his arms. 

The coupling was quick. You found it easy to fall over the cusp after the time he spent on you with his tongue, and he seemed eager to follow soon after. When he finished, he lay himself on top of you for a little while, breathing heavily and allowing the sweat on your bodies to dry a little. You felt suffocated. You wanted him off. But you said nothing. 

Eventually, Daemon rolled off of you and used the edge of the sheets to wipe himself off. Then he clambered onto the bed and lay across it properly, sheets at his waist and head settling into the pillow. Your limbs were stiff as you got up, and your core felt sore. You settled your weight on precarious legs, and made your way to your little private area behind the divider. A bowl of water was set on a little table and you dipped a washing rag into it before slowly cleaning the seed from your legs. You were careful, and your fingers were soft against the tender flesh between your legs, but you only stopped when every crevice felt clean. Perhaps this was the reason you weren’t getting pregnant, you thought, but you couldn’t stop. 

Your nightgown was hanging over the divider and you quietly pulled it on, settling the fabric around you before slowly making your way back to the bed and getting onto your side. Daemon watched you curl your knees to your chest and sit against the pillows, only allowing the sheets to cover your feet. You rested your chin against your legs and let out slow breaths. He couldn’t see your face properly because of your hair falling forward but he was desperate to. He reached out and gently pushed some of it back. Your eyes were closed and he couldn’t tell what you were thinking about. He simply sighed and reached out to rest his arm over your feet before closing his eyes. 

The only candle that had been left burning was on the little table beside your bed, and it watched you sit there for an hour. When you had felt Daemon’s breathing slow down, you had opened your eyes and watched the door. When you were sure he was asleep, you gently slid your feet out from under his arm and crept over the edge of the bed. You didn’t put on slippers and stood for a minute to shiver as the cold from the floor seeped into your toes and heels. Then you crept to the divider again and gently brought down your robe from the corner and slipped your arms into the sleeves before tying it at the waist. You looked back to see if Daemon was sleeping only once, then walked to the door. You opened it so slowly the wood made not a hint of sound, and when you were finally outside you let out a deep breath. 

You weren’t quite sure why you had come outside in the first place, but you felt a little better. You turned to the right and there stood Ser Criston against the wall just beside your door, watching you in the dim light. You watched him in return, the hair that curled a little inward at the nape of his neck and the pink tint of his lips. The sudden urge to cry overwhelmed you and you rushed toward him, wrapping your arms around his torso as you sobbed against his chest. 

Criston wrapped you up as much as he could with his armour still on, but he pressed his cheek down onto your head and shushed you as you cried. Your sobs were soft and muffled, your tears smearing on his armour and your cheeks as you hiccuped in his arms. He smoothed a hand over your hair, down your back, then cupped it around your waist. 

When your sobs began to quiet a little, your hiccups not as frequent, you pulled away quickly and stood against the wall across the hall, curling in on yourself as you used the edges of your nightgown to wipe at your eyes. Only your laboured breathing filled the hall, and the creak of his armour as he stood to attention again. You waited until you felt like you could open your mouth again without dissolving into sobs and turned to him with splotchy cheeks, a shiny nose, and red eyes that made you look like a little girl again. 

“I am sorry, that was inappropriate of me,” you whispered, and your voice was gritty and painful. He simply shook his head, pursing his lips for a moment before looking away from you and into the fire of the sconce directly in front of the door to your chambers.

“Nothing happened, Princess,” and you smiled a little, huffing out something akin to a laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

You pulled the sleeves of your nightgown and robe so they covered your hands, then pressed one of your fists to your lips and nose as you leaned back against the wall directly opposite to Criston. Your other hand came around to grasp your elbow and support it against your stomach, and you looked into Criston’s eyes. They were the colour of the bark of oak trees, the darkest honey, the sweetest chocolate from Dorne. 

“I don’t like my husband,” you whispered, and it felt criminal to voice the opinion out loud. You looked around a little, as if he would suddenly be standing at the door, ready to punish you for it, but nothing happened except Criston huffing out a laugh. You smiled at the sound, a warm, gruff, sort of sound. 

“Truth be told, I do not like your husband either,” and you giggled at that, pressing the smile into your fist. 

“I-” you paused, averting your eyes to the floor. “I like you though.” You glanced up to see his reaction, but he was looking at the wall ahead of him, and his face didn’t change. 

“I’m not sure that is a wise decision, Princess,” he said simply, as if he was reading it off a paper, and you laughed, thinking he was joking, being sarcastic or self-deprecating, but when he didn’t join in your laughter you stopped. Your cheeks burned and you were overwhelmed with embarrassment. 

“I did not mean-” you cut yourself off, biting your lip until it hurt and then biting it a little more. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, and he shook his head, frowning, looking down to the floor. 

“There is nothing to be sorry for, Princess, I simply meant that I am a knight of the Kingsguard and-” 

“Ser Criston, I know, I would never put you in a position to even question your oath let alone any imagining of you sullying it!” Your voice elevated a little in your hurry as you held out your hands and looked at him with wide eyes. He turned his gaze on you, some inexplicable expression on his face, and you blushed again, curling your hands against your chest and leaning against the wall once more. You trained your gaze on his feet. “I enjoy your company, and I respect you.” You watched him shuffle his feet a little. You were both quiet for a little while, letting the silence cover you like a soft blanket. 

Criston’s hands tingled with the need to reach out and caress your face, his heart strained against his chest with the need to meet your own, to press your two bodies together and press your mouth to his and kiss you until he couldn’t breathe anymore and then keep kissing you. 

You let your gaze trail all over his body, to the muscular shoulders hidden behind armour and the white cloak hanging from them. His neck seemed soft and blurred compared to the rest of him, and you wanted to reach up and caress the light dusting of a beard on his chin and cheeks. You wondered how coarse the hairs were. You wanted to kiss his eyelids, his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. You wanted to know what the skin felt like under your lips. 

“If it was a different world…” he trailed off, but you knew what was to come next regardless of him saying it or not. 

“I know,” you whispered quietly, taking a deep, shuddering, breath in and wrapping the robe tighter around you and following it with your arms. 

“I know,” he repeated back to you. You were both quiet again but the air felt a little heavier. You swallowed and closed your eyes.  

“I would love to kiss you, right at this moment,” you whispered, eyes reopening slowly to look at him. His eyes were on the ground but his lips were parted just slightly. His breath was shallow and his hands clenched into fists at his side slowly. You felt like you were watching everything he did a second after it happened. 

“I would love it if you kissed me, right at this moment,” his voice was low, gravelly, and you took a little step closer, a shuffle. 

You wanted to reach out and touch his stomach, feel the muscles beneath the shirt. You wanted to touch his shoulders, feel them tense then release as you ran your fingers up them. You wanted to caress his neck and gently press your fingertips to his cheeks to see how plush they were.

 Instead, you slowly made your way toward your chamber doors. When your shoulder was level with his, you looked at each other. His smile was so soft and warm, so kind and gentle, that you felt the tears begin to climb up behind your eyes. You looked back to your chamber doors and opened them just as quietly as you had done before, slipping inside and closing it behind you. You looked around the room for a moment, unseeing, then walked all the way back to your side of the bed. You blew out the remaining candle and got under the sheets right on the edge so not even Daemon’s outstretched hand could touch you.  

You and Ser Criston never spoke of that evening again. But sometimes, when everything was quiet and you were alone, you would look into his eyes, and know. 

After the night he kissed you for the first time since the wedding, Daemon suddenly felt like his entire life was off-kilter. He could not escape thoughts of you. He could not escape memories of you. 

At first he found himself sitting at the edge of the training pit, watching the gold cloaks spar as he awaited his turn, and all he could think of was the image of you in your wedding dress right after he had kissed you, blushing cheeks and cut lip smeared with spit and the mix of his blood and yours. As he took his midday meal in Rhaenyra’s solar across the table from her, he saw your frown as you told him you were still a maiden. As he flew on Caraxes on a hot afternoon, he saw the relief in your eyes as you lifted the strap of your shift back onto your shoulder. 

He began to wonder about you, about your days and nights, about what books you enjoyed or the temperament of your dragon. Each day brought new questions about you that he pushed away because they were unnecessary and only served to drive him mad. 

He noticed himself noticing you. His ears would perk up if he heard your voice somewhere in the distance, and something in his chest would jump a little. Your perfume lingered in the library after your visits, and if he happened to visit at just the right time, traces of it would gently touch his nose and his stomach would suddenly feel warm. Each time he entered your room for your fortnightly fucking, he found himself dallying longer and longer before and after, simply to gaze at your belongings and learn about you. 

Slowly, it became an irrepressible infatuation. He would watch you from the terraces and balconies around the Red Keep as you sat in the various courtyards, admiring your hair and your dress, jealous of the sun for being able to touch you so reverently in a way he never could.  He would dab your perfume on his handkerchief and keep it securely tucked in his pocket, pulling it out and pressing it to his nose in the quiet of his room on the other side of the Keep. He had even had one of the tapestries you had done removed from the halls of the Keep and hung on the wall across from his bed. He was lost in you. 

In this new daze, he had abandoned his trysts with Rhaenyra and had been shocked to find he did not care when she took a new lover. She had asked after his sudden disinterest, why he no longer visited her in the evenings or ate his lunch in her company. He hadn’t had an answer ready to give. 

In this time, he had also grown aware of Criston Cole’s infatuation with you. He had already thought it odd that the knight had abandoned being the Queen’s lapdog for the forgotten princess, but he had assumed that Alicent had ordered him to and was simply enacting another of her many schemes. He had even scoffed at the idea, laughing to himself that Alicent would gain nothing over him for he was only a husband in name. 

But after all the time he spent watching you, he could see how truly devoted to you the knight had become. He stood as close to you as was appropriate for a knight and not an inch farther. He held your projects or piles of books as he walked beside you, refusing you from taking any load from his arms. If you ever had a request, he forced whichever servant was closest to complete it in an instant so he could fulfil it without leaving your company. 

And he was always looking at you. Sometimes when Daemon watched you in the courtyard with Cole, the knight never removed his eyes from you for a second. You would turn your face up to smile at him and he would already be looking at you. You would return to the book and his eyes would still be on your face. 

It wasn’t just the fact that he was looking at you, though, it was the way the knight watched you. He always had this warm little expression on his face, his eyes a little wide and shiny and full of awe. His mouth was always gentler in those moments, lips softened and hinting at a smile. He seemed entirely at peace in your presence. 

And as Daemon watched you more and more, he realised the knight’s infatuation with you was returned. You were chatty around him, spilling your thoughts or asking him questions. You read aloud to him, made him little gifts of handkerchiefs or embellishments on his cloak that he always refused at first before relenting when you claimed you would be thoroughly upset if he continued to deny you. Your embroidery featured motifs of white knights more and more and you smiled at Criston in a way he wasn’t sure you had ever smiled at anyone else. It made him angry. Angry in a way that could only be soothed by hacking at a straw dummy in the training yard with Dark Sister until the thing had to be replaced. 

When Daemon found you, you were sitting at your writing desk with a parchment in front of you, quill raised as you bit your lip and formed the words in your head. His chest was heaving despite him not having run. The sunshine falling over the desk from the window behind you made you look like a spirit from the stories, all your edges glowing and a shadowy haziness draping your face. He walked right up to the desk, cupped your face in both his hands and kissed you on the mouth.

 It was firm, insistent, his mouth moving and pressing yours open while your mind tried to catch up with the sudden events, your quill dripping ink onto the table where you still had your hand raised. You pulled away after a moment, a frown creasing your brow and lips parted for a moment. You licked them, pressing them together as you swallowed and turned back to face the desk. Your eyes roamed over the little trinkets as if they had not been there before. Then you turned to look at Daemon again. 

He was standing above you, dazed as he gently touched his thumb to his lower lip. He looked bedraggled. Some of his hair had been pulled back into little braids to keep it from his face, his battle hair, but some of it curled with his sweat and other strands had been pulled out as if he had forgotten about the braids and had begun pulling at his hair in frustration. He was only wearing his training tunic, and there were mud stains on his pants and you guessed he had come straight here from the training grounds. 

He was staring at you now, eyes blazing and you shuffled back a little in case he tried to kiss you again. Kissing him was nice, it had never not been at least somewhat pleasant, but you didn’t care for it anymore. He leaned down again but you closed your eyes and leaned back further, holding your hand over your lips. A frown slashed his brow and he gripped the back of your chair tightly. You feared it would crack under the pressure. 

“You would deny your husband?” He spat, and you flinched, curling a little inward as if a pang of pain had hit you in the chest. “Do you deny Cole when you are a whore for him?” And your eyes snapped up to look into his. He was seething, you could practically see the fires of rage behind his eyes. Your own began to fill with tears and he stood up again, taking a step back. His face fell a little as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. He could hear it shudder through your open mouth, saw the quiver of your chest. If you began to cry he wasn’t sure what he would do. 

But then you pressed your lips together, so tight they went white, and opened your eyes. They were no longer filled with tears. You stood up, brushing down the skirt of your dress. You ensured it fell around your waist correctly before clasping your hands together over your stomach and finally looking up at him again. 

“I know you do not love me,” your voice was quiet but steady, and he opened his mouth to speak, to rebuke, but no sound came out. “It is alright,” and for the first time since that fateful day, you felt it truly was. Then your eyes hardened a little, almost imperceptibly. “You are not angry because you love me, or you feel denied by your wife. You are angry simply because you feel that something you possess may be eyed by another.” Then your eyes returned to their usual gentleness, your hands loosened against each other and your entire body seemed to release a little. “But do not worry, husband. Since I was a little girl it has been ingrained upon me that marriage is sacred. One must treat it with the utmost respect, cherish it, protect it with their own actions.” You held your hands to your heart like you were cupping the very notion of marriage against your breast. “I would never dream of defiling its sanctity.” You bowed your head and breezed out of the room before he could even attempt to open his mouth. 

For a long time after, Daemon wondered if you knew of his long ago trysts with Rhaenyra. Though you had not said the words with any sort of obvious insinuation or spite, fear and guilt churned in his gut until he had to sit down and press his palms to his eyes. All he could ask himself was ‘did you know?’, all he could feel was shame and regret. 

He didn’t want you to know. He wanted to take everything back, starting with your marriage. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and cherish you as you deserved. He wanted to spend his hours on his knees in supplication to you. He wanted to follow you around like a dog chasing its master if only you would glimpse at him with that little loving smile you reserved for so few people and press a gentle kiss to his face. He wanted your love. And somehow, he thought as he sat on the floor of his room, back leaning against the side of his bed, I have lost it before I even knew I wanted it. 

Daemon spent much of his life in the aftermath trying to win you back, and it somehow made everything worse. You were always the perfect image of a wife. If he brought you flowers, you thanked him gently, sincerely, then handed them off to a maid to have them put in water. If he brought you jewellery, you caressed it and put it on in that instant, asking him how it looked on you. He only ever had one answer, ‘radiant, my love,’ and you would smile at his reflection in the mirror before gently taking it off and putting it in your jewellery box. If he found fabrics from all corners of the world and had them brought to you for your dresses, you kissed his cheek in thanks, then asked the tailor to create something for you, never your own design. You wore them in front of him, showed him that his gifts were used, and once he had torn them off in his vigour to fuck you, you folded up the dresses and put them in the back of your wardrobe. 

When the gifts elicited nothing more than politeness, he began spending more time with you, hoping you would somehow see his devotion, see a reason to love him. He would find you just before you went to eat your midday meal with Alicent and instead guide you to a picnic in the Godswood. He would bring one of his many books on the Targaryen histories and settle himself down next to you in one of the courtyards. He would lay beside you in your bed after he finished inside you, cheek pressed into the pillow as he watched you until you fell asleep. 

Each attempt had entirely the opposite effect to his wishes. Though you never changed outwardly, never made him feel unwelcome or told him to leave, he could sense how much you preferred to be without his presence. 

And you never acknowledged Criston Cole in his presence. Whether from some deep seated propriety that refused to offend your husband or insult him in the company of others. Whether from some embarrassment that whatever feelings you held for the knight would be so easily displayed from simple conversation, he knew not. But it made everything even worse. 

You spoke not to Criston, which meant you didn’t speak to him either unless he tried to start a conversation. The silence would become suffocating to the point he would sweat through his clothes. You would be oblivious, sitting there humming or simply gazing upon your book or embroidery or letters. And he would be tortured watching you sit under the watchful eye of your knight, not saying a word. 

Each time he returned, he tried to outlast himself, outlast the silence. And each time he failed. It would be five minutes, ten minutes at most, before he stood up and walked out of the door without a goodbye, and somehow he knew that you didn’t bother looking up as he left. 

These little communions were often followed by an overwhelming sense of betrayal and embarrassment. With every failed attempt, every time he fled, he thought he could see Criston Cole’s smug smile. He thought the knight’s secret satisfaction in your favour of him suddenly became apparent on his face and in his gait, that the fool was mocking him for not being able to win his wife’s love while he held it freely in the palm of his hand. 

And then he found a slow decline into shame as he sat in the ruins of whatever furniture or ornaments he had destroyed in that bout. Vases of porcelain were left in shattered little pieces when he thought about the way you looked up at Cole like he hung the stars in the sky. End tables of oakwood were left in splinters as he imagined Cole whispering lovingly in your ears. And each time he sat in the wake, staring at his hands as they bled due to his carelessness, and he prayed to the old gods and the new, asking for your forgiveness. 

The cycle never ended, because however much he tried, however much he inserted himself in your life, you seemed forever content to play your part as a dutiful wife while simultaneously withholding the only thing he wanted from you now. Any other man would not complain about being married to you. They would be ecstatic that no matter how much debauchery they committed, however many whores they fucked and taverns they inhabited, their wife still demurely welcomed them home, ensured their needs were always met, and never deigned to bother them. He hated it with every fibre of his being. 

He wanted you to scream and hit him in the chest in your anger, to call him names and loathe him. He wanted you to glare at him in bed and refuse his kisses. He wanted you to hate him, because if he could make you hate him, he could make you love him too. He could turn those screams and punches into laughs and loving caresses. He could turn the names and loathing into soft words and adoration. He could turn the glare in bed into a soft look of relaxation as you lay your head on his chest and hummed in comfort. He could turn the refused kisses into begs for more. He often thought he was descending into madness. 

Some months later, after everything in the world had jumbled itself around and left Daemon adrift, useless and hopeless to the point of self-loathing, he found himself watching you in the gardens from one of the balconies above the south courtyard. 

When Daemon looked at you, he felt his chest begin to fill with something thick and painful. It was liquefied stone crushing each of his organs, it was hot syrup drowning his lungs. Your smile was sad and gentle as you ran your fingers over the embroidery you had just finished. 

To know he was filled to the brim with love for you and you had nothing more than indifference to offer him now was already a kind of crippling pain he now had to endure. To know he had broken your heart long before he had even cared for it was another. But to live for the rest of his life knowing he had trapped you, that it was the devotion and loyalty you gave him unconditionally simply because you were married to him, that your marriage to him was the sole reason you would never be happy… That was the worst pain of all. 

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[m0llygunn]

Eddie's Notes (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: Eddie's a friend you trust... you trust him enough to have your first time with him... and your second.

tropes: virgin!eddie, virgin!reader, friends to lovers, bad at sex eddie but eager to learn (eventually) warnings: 18+! mature language, pet names (baby, pretty/sweet girl), smut, p in v sex, mentions of reader's period, oral (f receiving), virginity loss a/n: a lot of people write eddie as being good in bed (myself included) but I thought it'd be fun to dive into a realm of him being not good (but he is a cutey little dedicated sweetheart once he gets his act together). reblogs and comments are appreciated profusely <3 wc: 10.4k+

“Do you want to do something else?” You ask over the top of Eddie's copy of The Hobbit. 

“Not really anything else to do.” Eddie replies, from the other end of his bed, only sparing you a short glance before going back to his guitar. 

You’ve been thinking about it for a while and you trust Eddie, you really do. 

Saving yourself for marriage is not in the question. Saving yourself for the love of your life doesn’t seem probable. So someone you trust is the best case scenario. And you really trust Eddie. 

The best part is you’re pretty sure it’ll be an even playing field with Eddie. In his crude nature, with sex jokes and innuendos, it was hard to decide whether or not he has but you’re almost certain he hasn’t. 

Almost certain. 

“Are you a virgin?” You ask, words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. 

“What?” He laughs. You shrug before realizing that maybe that question is outside of your realm of friendship. Maybe what you actually want to ask him is eons outside of your friendship. 

Sure, you’ve been friends with him for a few years now but you’re not the best of friends. Good enough friends to hang out a couple times a month doing nothing beyond enjoying each other's company, but it’s not like you’re best best friends. 

“If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine. I guess that was super weird for me to ask, sorry.” You say, going back to hiding your face in his book. 

“No— no, not weird at all.” He says with a nervous chuckle. 

You give him a moment to answer the question but he doesn’t. When you peek out from behind the book again, his gaze is fixed forward, stuck in a trance of thought.

“Sorry.” You say again.

“No— don’t be.” He shakes his head, blinking away whatever he was thinking. “I’m um, uh— not really?” He says, adding an inflection to his statement like he’s asking you.

“Not really?” You ask, looking for clarification but he just shrugs. You assume the conversation is done but as soon as you go back to the book, he speaks again. 

“I… have done stuff. You know, a little rub and tug from the hideout’s finest,” He says, making a crude pumping motion with his fist over his guitar covered crotch. “but… to elaborate, uh— no actual penetration, I guess.”

“Penetration?” You say, laughing softly at his choice of words. 

“Yeah… never put it in?” He says again like he’s asking you if it’s an okay answer. 

“Fair enough.” You smile, nodding your head. 

The both of you sit in silence, Eddie shifting uncomfortably in his spot. You expected him to counter ask your question, but he just sits there, fingers drumming on the body of his guitar.

“Why did you ask me that?” He asks with a genuine curiosity, finally breaking the silence. 

“You don’t want to know if I’m a virgin?” You ask, purposefully ignoring his question. 

“Are you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows rise, hiding beneath his bangs before he comically relaxes himself, putting on an image of indifference. “Oh… me too.” He says coolly.

“So I’ve heard.” You reply, rolling your lips inwards to try and hold back your laugh. You twist in the bed, putting the book down on the floor.

“Why are we talking about this?” He asks quietly, following your lead and setting his guitar down on the bed beside him. 

“Do you… want to…” You ask, trailing off, shrugging your shoulders.

“Want to…?” He asks, sitting up straighter. 

“You know?” You say, raising your eyebrows hoping he says it so you don’t have to. Faux indifference thrown to the wind, his own eyebrows rise once again, eyes going wide in disbelief. 

The silence goes unperturbed until his mouth pulls into a flatline before dropping agape, his eyes narrowing in on you. 

“I think you’re gonna have to spell this one out for me, cause I think I know what you mean, but I am not gonna look like an idiot if I’m thinking something entirely different than what you’re thinking.” He rambles, hands working overtime twisting his rings mindlessly. 

“Do you not want to?” You ask, your eyes flitting to his nervous habits on full display. 

“No I do!” He says a little too loudly, cheeks going red in embarrassment. “But… clarify please cause I really don’t want to be reading this wrong.” He says, flattening his palms on his legs, as he clocks that you’ve noticed his fidgeting. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” You ask as plain as can be. All of Eddie's fidgeting stops immediately. He freezes, his eyes going wide, and you feel your own nerves pick up.

It takes a moment but when he comes back alive, his eyes finding yours. “You’re not joking right?” He asks, his gaze penetrating so deeply it almost becomes too much.

“I’m not joking.”

“Uh— then… yes.” He says calmly.

“Try not to sound so enthusiastic.” You laugh nervously, feeling uncomfortable in the thick tension of the room.

“Shit— I’m sorry. I’m just— it took me by surprise. But I do! Really do, seriously!”

“Okay then.” You smile, feeling your nerves relax. “Do you want to… now?”

He nods his head vigorously before pausing with a look of defeat. “Shit, yeah I do but Wayne was supposed to be helping a friend fix up their car. He might be home in a few hours.”

“A few hours? Is it… is it gonna take that long?” You laugh.

“Probably not.” He says, cheeks flushing dark red. He starts wringing his hands again, his nervous habits becoming more and more prominent by the second.

“Eddie, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, you can tell me if you don’t want to. I won’t be upset, I swear.” You say, sitting up straighter to look at him. 

“No— no god no. I mean yes— I do. I want to. I just— fuck, I didn’t think we’d be doing this today.” He says, eyes flickering over the room before meeting you with a sheepish smile. 

“Should I take my clothes off?” You ask, toying at the hem of your shirt. 

“Oh shit— yeah. Yeah, and I’ll take mine off?” He asks, grabbing at the hem of his own shirt. 

“Yeah. I think so.” You smile, pulling your shirt off. 

“I’m just gonna— yeah, just gonna move this first.” He says, picking up his guitar and pushing himself up off the bed. When he turns from hanging it up, he stops, eyes flickering over your shirtless body. Trying not to lose your nerve, you quickly unclasp your bra, pulling it down your arms, and dropping it off the side of the bed. Eddie’s unwavering eye contact with your chest makes your skin heat, playing on your nerves, especially since he's stood in the middle of his room not saying anything.

“Eddie.” You say, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Right.” He mumbles, jumping into action, pulling his own shirt over his head. He moves quickly to unbutton and unzip his pants and with a deep breath, you shimmy out of your own, pushing them off the edge of the bed. 

“Underwear too?” He asks, still standing in the middle of his room.

“I guess.” You laugh.

“Right. Stupid question.” He says, shaking his head. You watch as his hands go to his boxers and within a blink he’s pushing them down until they pool around his feet, his hard length becoming your main focus as it bobs against his lower belly. You take in the sight of him, still standing in the middle of his room, naked. Your eyes linger on his erection until his hands cover it. 

“Sorry.” You mumble shyly, shifting on the bed to tug down your own underwear. 

“Don’t be sorry.” He says, clearing his throat. 

“Are you going to come over here or…” You ask, dropping your underwear to land in the pile of your other discarded clothes. 

“Yeah.” He says, swallowing harshly. He steps to the edge of the bed, about to climb on until he stops. “Condom, uh— gimme a minute.” He says, eyes darting around the room. “I have one somewhere, just…” He mumbles as he bounds for his desk.

With his back turned, you let your eyes rake over him. He’s cute, very cute. His nerves are endearing; however, Eddie’s always been brash, you didn’t expect him to be so jittery. In a weird way, you like it, because it’s distracting you from a lot of your own nerves. You trust him, entirely. You’ve never not trusted him.

He opens drawer after drawer scrambling through his belongings until proudly holding up the little silver square.

“Right, good.” You say, trying to sound casual. 

“Are you okay, like, do you need anything?” He asks, stumbling his way back to the bed over his messy floor. 

“No, I’m good. Just need you, I guess.” You say, motioning down to his crotch, cringing at yourself for saying it like that. 

“Right. I’ll… put this on then.” He replies. He settles on the bed beside you, pausing before tearing open the condom package. He pauses again.

“Do you need me to�� help?” You offer, hoping you don’t sound as dumb as you think you do.

“Uh, I’m good. I think, just— slide it on there.” Eddie says, rambling as he fumbles with the condom. “Just like… that. There. Okay.” He coaches himself, turning his upper body towards you when it’s finally on.

“Do you wanna…?” You ask, motioning for him to get on top of you. 

“Yeah, sure, yeah.” He rambles, pushing himself up. You spread your thighs for him, his hips fitting between your bent knees. His movements are awkward, which you also didn’t expect from Eddie. Normally, he’s clumsy but he’s very forthcoming, very sure of himself. You're used to the way he thrashes through life, kind of like a bull in a china shop, but right now he’s tiptoeing, treading very lightly.

“Should I put my arms here?” He asks leaning forward so a hand rests on the bed next to your head.

“However you’re comfortable.” You say softly, trying to coax some of his nervousness away.

“Let me… just… figure this out.” He rambles again, adjusting his body first with both hands caging you in, then switching back to just one, before leaning back and resting on his knees.

It takes you a minute, but you clue in that every adjustment is centered around the least physical contact between the two of you. “You can touch me, Eddie.” You say, hoping he’ll ease into the moment.

“Right. Yeah of course.” He says, shaking his head. He tentatively lets his hands find your bent knees. His touch is feather light, obviously unsure.

“Should I just…” He asks, looking down between where your bodies almost meet. His eyes linger between your thighs, hands gripping harder on your knees, and it makes your belly flip. A good flip, more like a flutter. You like how his eyes become darker, and his mouth slightly drops. It’s cute. He’s cute. 

“I’m ready when you are.” You exhale, trying not to laugh as his eyes glaze over in a dazed look, still focused between your legs.

“I’m ready, so if you’re ready.” He replies mindlessly, still not looking up. 

“Eddie, you can put it in.” You laugh softly. His eyes finally flicker to you, catching your smile, and he mirrors it as best as he can, albeit with a blush of pink across his cheeks for being caught staring so long. 

“Right… I’ll do that.” He replies. He takes his length in his hand, running his fist up and down once. It’s a casual action, practiced, and you get a glimpse of what Eddie’s really like without the jumbled nerves. 

He leans in the slightest bit and you feel the tip of his head prod at your slit, sliding down slowly. He works himself down, parting your slit until he’s resting just at your opening. You think he might start pushing in, but he pauses, keeping himself entirely still. 

“Uh— sorry but, this is the hole right?” He asks, cheeks flaring red.

You don’t blame him, there is a lot going on down there and you know he just wants to be sure. He's being careful, asking questions when he’s unsure, he doesn’t want to hurt you, but it still makes your face turn the tiniest bit hotter because of the intimacy you’re not used to. 

“That’s the one.” You say awkwardly, moving your own hand down to your center to help guide him. 

Before you can even wrap your hand around him, he interrupts you, making you draw your hand back. 

“Wait do we— I don’t have lube or anything.” He says, eyes flitting to yours. 

“Maybe… spit? That’s what other people use, right?” You offer with a shrug.

“Yeah… I’ll just…” He says before dribbling over you. Missing completely, his glob of spit lands on your lower stomach making you laugh. He looks embarrassed at first, but as he watches you laugh, his lips slowly break into a smile before he eases into his own laughter. 

“Why are we being so awkward? We’re friends, this is fine, right?” You say, exhaling, trying to compose yourself from your laughter.

“Yeah, we’re friends… having sex.” He says with a heavy exhale.

“I’m still me and you’re still you, we don’t need to be nervous.” You say, looking into Eddie’s eyes. He nods, taking another deep breath and letting it out and you can feel some of his nerves leave him. He nods again and you smile at him. 

“I’m still me, you’re still you.” Eddie echoes. He takes a final deep breath before looking at you, returning a flash of a smile. 

You spit in your hand, bringing it to your core, getting yourself wet. You motion for Eddie to come closer and when he does, you wrap your fingers around him enough to line him up with your entrance. 

“Okay, so just push in. But slow please.” You guide. 

“Slow, got it.” He replies, hips beginning to move towards you.

He takes your words to heart, pushing in extremely slow. So slowly, you aren’t even sure if he’s moving, apart from the noises he’s trying to hold back— and there’s a lot of them, which must mean he’s getting something from this. 

You move your hand to his hip, pulling him towards you and he moves a little faster at your guidance. You start to feel a pinch, then it turns into a stretch. He continues pushing in slowly, the stretch turning to a very mild burn.

“Are you almost in?” You ask, squeezing your eyes closed.

“Almost, like another inch, maybe?” He says, hand squeezing your knee.

“Okay— good.” You breathe.

“Are you okay?” He asks, movements stilling.

“Just stings, but keep going.” You say, trying to unclench the muscles you keep tensing by accident. He complies, pushing into you slowly again.

His hips finally press flush against yours and Eddie stills. Looking up at him, you see his mouth working back and forth, eyes glancing over your body like he’s trying not to look too hard or too long at any particular spot. You’re about to tell him that he can touch you again but his mouth opens, sucking in a breath like he’s about to say something. 

“You’re really warm. Like… inside.” He says. His voice sounds strangled but you can tell he’s trying to come across as casual. You can’t help but laugh.

This is what you wanted. It’s easy. You feel comfortable enough to laugh. You trust Eddie and despite his nerves, he’s doing a good job. 

With your hand on his hip, you keep him still, giving yourself time to adjust, and he complies, taking deep breaths that you subconsciously align your own breathing to. 

When the sting relaxes into a dull ache, you take a final deep breath before relaxing your grip on Eddie.

“Okay, you can move, Eddie.” You say, pushing against his hip. He looks up at you long enough to nod, before moving his eyes back down to your center.

He pulls out slowly, just a touch faster than he pushed in and it’s such a foreign feeling to you. It’s on the cusp of being something you might enjoy… but not quite there. 

When he pushes back in, it’s a little quicker and you get the same almost pleasure feeling. 

“Fuck.” Eddie groans, hands squeezing harshly on your knees.

“It’s okay?” You ask. The tone of his voice catches you off guard. You’ve never heard Eddie sound like that before.

“Y-yeah. You’re really tight.” He says in that same tone. It’s deep, it’s raspy, and he sounds out of breath. It’s hot. Your stomach twirls, and you watch his face as it contorts in pleasure, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and his brows pinched harshly together. 

He looks like he’s really enjoying it, but… apart from seeing him like this, you aren’t.

You shift your hips, trying to find any ounce of pleasure but if anything, it just feels like he’s prodding at you. Not uncomfortable but definitely not pleasurable.

“Eddie, does this… feel good for you?” You ask tentatively. You know the answer, you can tell by the way his breathing has turned into little pants but you figure there must be something you’re missing. You can’t help but feel a pinch of jealousy that it feels that good for him. 

“Fuck. Yeah, feels really good.” He groans, his thrusts slowly picking up in pace. 

You lay still, watching Eddie thrust in and out of you. The image of him, face contorted in pleasure, and all the breathy little gasps spilling from him makes a hint of heat pool in your lower stomach, but this isn’t at all like you thought how sex would feel. 

Maybe your next question comes out a little mean, but his radiating pleasure taunts you. It’s juvenile, but you can’t help but think how it’s not fair.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me if it feels good?” You watch as Eddie’s mouth drops open even further, his chest rising and falling harshly. His eyes squeeze shut and you aren’t even sure if he heard you. 

“I’m gonna cum— shit. I’m sorry. I can’t- f-fuck.” He groans, his thrust becoming uneven, stuttering against you. 

“Oh.” You say quietly. His thrusts are short and shallow until his movement still, cock pulsing inside you. 

And just like that, it’s over. 

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans, his hold on your knees becoming almost bruising. You feel a little more heat pool in your core seeing Eddie come undone but at this point, you know it’s over.

You continue laying still, watching Eddie’s face slowly unwind, eyes fluttering open. He pulls out, moving his way to lay back beside you on the bed, his breathing still harsh and ragged.

You watch as his head hits the pillow, eyes closing as he sucks in a deep breath, exhaling it harshly. His eyes open again, meeting your gaze. 

“That was— holy shit.” He says breathily.

“Yeah?” You ask, trying not to sound disappointed because that most definitely was not ‘holy shit’ to you. Quite frankly… that was just shit. You’re not upset, not in the slightest, just jealous. Envious that it was so easy for him and not you. It’s irrational, and you know you shouldn’t be mad at him, but it doesn’t stop the bud of spite inside of you. 

“Did that— sorry. Was that good for you?” He asks, head tilting towards you. 

“No.” You say flatly. Your eyes go wide at your answer because you most definitely didn’t mean to say that, it just slipped without thinking. 

And as you watch his face fall, every ounce of jealousy, envy, spite, anything you were feeling just seconds ago leaves you entirely, being replaced with regret for that one little word. You shouldn’t have said that. 

Eddie was nervous. He was shy. He was tentative. Gentle. Careful. Respectful. 

It was endearing. You found him cute. 

You wanted it to be with Eddie because you trust him. He did everything you wanted. 

It was his first time too.

“Oh” He says, eyes going round with disappointment. 

“No! I mean it was fine. You did good Eddie, we’re no longer virgins!” You say excitedly, trying to fix your slip of the tongue. You smile but his face falls flat. You feel your heart pang as he deflates in front of you. 

“Yeah… I’m sorry. Maybe— uh… I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He says quietly, hand raising to his face, rubbing aggressively over his mouth and chin. You can tell he’s not buying your cover up and you genuinely feel bad.

“Don’t worry about it, Eddie. It was just the first time. I'm sure it’ll get better?” You say, trying to fix the sad look in his eyes but it only gets worse.

“That bad, huh?” He asks, and his demeanor breaks your heart. You should have kept your mouth shut.

“Don’t feel bad!” You say, sitting up to get a better look at him.

“Fuck— I’m so sorry.” He huffs, hand going back to rubbing over his jaw.

“No, don’t be sorry! It can only go up from here, right!” You try your best to fix your mistake but it’s not working. 

“It was that bad.” He groans, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Eddie, please don’t feel bad.” You say, moving to be able to fully look at him. “I wanted to lose my virginity to you because I trust you, Eddie. And it was perfect in that sense. You didn’t hurt me at all, and I really, really don’t want you to feel bad.” You say genuinely. You let your hand rest on his arm, trying to pull his hands away from his face.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He says again, palms pressing harder into his eyes despite you trying to pull them away.

“Eddie. I’m so serious. I wanted it to be with you for a reason. Please, please, don’t feel bad.” You try a final time.

He stays, hands covering his face for a while and you don’t know what else you could say to make it better so instead, you opt for getting dressed. Even when you shift on the bed, he doesn’t move.

It only takes a few minutes for you to be fully dressed. He laid still the whole time, hands pressed to his eyes, and you’re convinced he fell asleep.

“Maybe I should go?” You whisper quietly. His hands fly away from his face, eyes widening. His gaze takes you in, realizing that you’re fully dressed and he sits up quickly.

“You don’t have to.” He rushes out, his wide eyed gaze meeting yours.

“I probably should, right? It’s getting late.”

“Right…” He agrees sitting up. “I can drive you, if you want?”

“It’s nice out, I can walk.” You offer.

“I'll drive you, just give me a minute.” He replies, brushing off your comment.

“Sure.” You say politely, grabbing your bag from the floor.

You wait for him in the living room and it’s only a few minutes before he’s fully dressed. Wordlessly, you both go outside, and get in the van.

After a silent ride, he parks in front of your house.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I feel like I ruined your first time.” You say.

“Shit. You have nothing to feel sorry about. I’m the only one who should be sorry.” He says, huffing an almost laugh.

“Don’t be sorry. Eddie, I told you already. I trust you and because of that it was a great first time.” 

Eddie shrugs, not accepting your sentiment. 

“I’ll see you?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, see you.” He nods.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

It's been just over a week since you and Eddie slept together. A week of radio silence. Sure, it’s not like you two hung out everyday before, but you thought that, maybe, that might be different after you slept together. But nope. 

You waited a while to call, trying to give him space since that night didn't exactly end as you hoped. While you waited, you hoped he would call, but he didn’t. 

Eventually, you ended up calling, but you got his uncle, who said Eddie’s been busy the last few days and he hasn’t seen him much. Later that night, Eddie called, but your mom answered since you were staying at a friend's house. You called again yesterday, Eddie wasn’t home. You had expected him to call that night but he didn’t. And you’ve been thinking about it all day since it’s summer vacation, your parents aren’t home, and you just have a lot of time.

When there's a knock at the door you fully expected it to be a salesman or jehovah witness, but you were surprised to see Eddie. You didn't even have a chance to speak before his hand was on the door, pushing it open as wide as it could go.

“I want to try again.” He says, a slight breathiness to his voice as if he just rushed his way over here.

“What?” You ask confusedly.

“I want to try again.” He says a little louder before shrinking a little. “If you’ll let me, I mean. Only if it’s okay with you.”

“You… want to try again?” You ask, finally clueing in to what he’s talking about.

“Yeah. I feel fucking bad that I came—” He stops himself, turning around, looking to the street. “Can I explain inside?” He says, wincing slightly. 

You usher him inside, spotting your neighbor on their porch and you pray to god they didn’t hear Eddie and if they did, they remain oblivious to what he was getting at. 

As soon as the door is shut, Eddie’s speaking again.

“I meant to start with an apology.” He says, voice softer and less breathless.

“Eddie, I really don’t want to hear you apologize again. It was fine.”

“It wasn’t.” He states, raising his brows. He relaxes into sincerity, meeting your gaze. “I want to apologize for what happened after.” He says, pausing for any objections from you. You let him continue. “You were being really nice about it and I… I was being selfish. You already didn’t enjoy yourself, and then I made it your job to make me feel better about it. That was really shitty of me.” 

“I felt bad, you know. It was your first time too.” You shrug.

“But you shouldn’t have had to coddle me like that. It wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.” He says softly. You can tell he’s genuinely sorry for it and you really do appreciate it. You nod, and he rolls his lips inwards, nodding back. 

“Thank you.” You say. He nods again.

The room stills, the both of you in silence. You can tell Eddie wants to keep talking. 

“So… outside you were saying?” You lead, prompting him. He catches your eye, smiling appreciatively for you being the one to break the silence.

“I was saying outside that I feel terrible that I came so quickly and it wasn’t good for you and I want to try again.. if you’ll let me.” He blunders out. 

You raise your brows. This is more like the Eddie you know. Straight forward, to the point. 

“I um— I don’t know what to say.” You laugh softly. You do feel a hint of apprehension. You’ve already accepted that the sex was bad but the part that really got you was what happened after. Not his sulking, but after you left. The not talking part. That was the last thing you wanted to come from this.

Despite your feelings, you can’t help but light up a bit at Eddie’s enthusiasm. His eyes are wild with it. 

“You don’t have to say yes. But I did a fuck ton of research and look—” he says pulling out a folded piece of lined paper from his back pocket, starting to uncrumple it. “I took notes and everything. I want to do it right, so if you’ll let me…”

“You took… notes?” You ask amusedly. He holds the paper out to you and you cautiously take it.

“Yeah. I’m dedicated to this. I told you, I feel fucking terrible. I should have listened more, asked you questions, done so many things differently. So I just— I don’t know.” He says shrugging, hands wringing themselves.

You glance down at the paper to see his scribbled writing covering every inch of the paper. Your eyes gravitate to a very technical diagram of a vagina that he drew out. 

“I don’t want to look at this.” You laugh, shoving the paper back to Eddie. 

“Shit, sorry.” He laughs nervously. He goes pink in the face. Not exactly out of nerves like before, but more so flustered. It’s cute.

You can’t help but bite. 

“So… what exactly did research entail?” You ask, holding back your smile.

“I went to the library first. Looked at some books there. Read some magazines… asked a few people.”

“People?” You question worriedly.

“No— no don’t worry! I didn’t tell them it was you or anything. It was mostly just books and magazines that I read, I swear. I just wanted to make sure some things were actually true.”

“And… you really want to do this?” You ask. You're intrigued and his effort is very endearing. You did say that it could only get better…

“Yes! But only if you’re comfortable with it. Doing it once was generous— so if you say no, I understand.”

“Generous?” You laugh.

“Yeah. Like, that was a cool thing to do, you know?” He shrugs, cheeks flaring. 

“Cool?” You laugh again.

“Yeah.” He replies, cracking a smile.

Your eyes gravitate to the sheet of paper in his hand. You don’t really have anything to lose, right? You’ve done it before and if he really is dedicated to this like he says he is… might as well give it a shot?

“Yes.” You say firmly, your mind made up.

“Yes?”

“Let's try again.” You exhale.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t do any research but… if you’re okay with that, my answer’s yes.” 

Eddie perks up, eyes becoming filled with excitement. He looks at his sheet of notes for a moment before his gaze finds yours again. 

“Do you have a calendar?” He asks plainly. 

“A calendar, Eddie? What?” You ask, feeling confused all over again.

“I just… yeah. Just like a regular calendar.” He shrugs.

“In my room.” You lead him upstairs, pulling the calendar down from your wall and handing it over.

“Okay, thank you. And when was your last period?” He asks, laying the calendar down flat on your desk, fingers drumming over the dates.

“My last period, Eddie, what the fuck?” You laugh.

“No, seriously. If you’re ovulating it’s supposed to be better, so last period was…?” He says, fingers gliding over the calendar.

“Like two— three-ish weeks ago?” You say, pointing at the general days on the calendar. 

“Okay, okay. Just gimme a minute.” He says, flattening his notes down on the surface next to the calendar. “Alright, so if this was the first day of your period, then you should be ovulating? Or almost ovulating?” He says, fingers sliding along the weeks, counting quietly under his breath. 

“Eddie, it sounds like you’re trying to get me pregnant.” You laugh nervously.

“No! No, I swear to god, no! I just- I read that it’s supposed to feel better for you during that week, so, like, now would be a really good time for me to… you know, try to make you feel good.” He says, eyes going wide as he turns towards you, looking the slightest bit mortified.

“Oh…” you respond, brows raised as you try not to laugh in his face. It’s endearing it really is, but… this boy is so odd. “Alright then.” You nod, your lips tugging into a smile. 

“Yeah. So I can check that off.” He says, grabbing a pencil from your desk and physically checking off one of his notes. “So next, is foreplay.”

“Foreplay?” You parrot, laughing in disbelief.

“Yeah. I think that’s where I really fucked up last time. I mean, I didn’t even kiss you, for christ sake. And I didn’t touch you at all before, so yeah. Foreplay.” He says, exhaling harshly.

“You want to kiss me?” You ask nervously. Your heart picks up as your gaze flickers to his lips.

“I mean, yeah.” He says, going shy. “But I didn’t know if you would have wanted me to cause we’re not… you know, together.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You could have kissed me.” You smile at him, your stomach going fluttery at the thought. 

“Really?” He asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah.” You affirm, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Cool.” He nods slowly, smiling.

“So.. are you going to?” You ask, sheepishly. He meets your gaze, eyes slowly lowering to your lips. He nods his head, stepping closer to you.

When your eyes flutter closed, you feel his lips press against yours, soft as a feather.

He pulls away and you almost think it’s over until he pulls you back in, hands on your waist, bringing you closer to him. His lips meet yours again and it’s entirely different from the first. His lips work against yours and it leaves you dazed, struggling to keep up with the unexpected, but it’s perfect.

His hands still on your waist, he guides you to lean against your desk, his body pulled flush to yours. His hands rub up and down your sides slowly, adding to your fluttery dizziness. 

The kiss deepens, his tongue licking along your lower lip and you part your mouth. He’s gentle with you, tongue imploringly licking into your mouth, almost as if he’s testingly seeing what you like best. It gives you butterflies, something you’ve tried to not dwell on getting from Eddie in the past.

His hand trails up your waist, taking purchase on your jaw, guiding your mouth against his until his kisses slow, his lips meeting the edge of your mouth before trailing down the side of your face.

You swallow harshly before speaking. “That was really good.” You say, clearing your voice. You practically feel Eddie’s lips turn up in a smile against your jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks breathily against your skin. 

“Yeah. I think your research is working so far.” You say, squeezing your eyes shut as his kisses trail down your neck. 

You open your eyes when the kisses stop and you feel him pull away. 

“Yeah?” He asks excitedly, making eye contact with you. His gaze is a combination of shock, disbelief, and amusement and it’s adorable. It pulls on all of your heart strings at once.

The attentiveness, effort, the everything from right now mixes with everything from before. Gentle, careful, respectful, you trust him. You trust him and you think he’s cute, endearing, adorable, and you want him.

“Keep going.” You say, your own voice going breathy.

“Right.” He mumbles, face pressing against your neck again. 

You bring your hand to the back of his head, fingers entwining in his hair. As soon as you do, you feel a nip of teeth that makes you gasp. He cleverly soothes the area with his tongue after, making a whimper rise in your throat that surprises you when it falls from your lips.

“Eddie, who’d you get that from?” You whisper curiously, voice sounding pathetically whimpery. 

“Dunno, s’just something I picked up.” He replies, pulling away enough for his breath to fan over your damp skin, giving you shivers. 

He nips again, chasing it with a harsh suck that makes your head spin. You can’t help but feel like he’s showing off now but you don’t care, you let him. He has you at a place where you’re his for the bending, malleable in his hands. 

“W-what’s next on your list?” You stutter through his kisses.

“Not done with this yet.” He says, voice gravelly and low. You nod your head, not bothering to try to speak again.

His kisses work lower and lower until they meet the neckline of your shirt. You feel his fingers on your hip playing with the hem of your shirt, tugging and lifting it just enough to get your attention. You nod again, wanting it off.

“Eddie.” You whine, pushing your chest against his when he doesn’t do it right away.

He pulls away from you again, and when he looks at you, he looks surprised. 

“What?” You question, feeling embarrassed.

“N-no! Nothing, that was just.. really hot. Wasn’t expecting that s’all.” He stutters, both hands now on your waist, rubbing up and down.

You feel your face burn, feeling shy all of a sudden. You know he picks it up because his eyes focus on you, pausing everything.

“D’you want me to keep going?” He asks, and you nod your head.

“Want you to take my shirt off.” You whisper.

“Yeah?” He laughs.

“Eddie.” You whine, feeling embarrassed at how much he’s affecting you.

“C’mon let’s get your shirt off, pretty girl.” He coos and you feel your stomach flutter. His hands lower to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and you raise your arms cooperatively. 

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask just as the shirt pulls over your head.

“Hell yeah. I think you’re beautiful.” He says, stopping to look into your eyes as he says it. You lower your gaze, fixing it on your shirt in Eddie’s hands.

“Which is another thing I fucked up last time, by the way.” He adds, dipping his face to meet your gaze.

“Hm?” You hum, head spinning too fast to keep up.

“Last time. I didn’t tell you how fucking beautiful you are.” He says. His eyes flutter over your face, hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to, so I didn’t. But believe me, I thought about it.” He says, dipping his face down to press a chaste kiss to your shoulder. 

“Eddie.” You reply not knowing what else to say. Your heart beats faster and it’s all consuming, adding sweet to your ever growing list of things you like about Eddie. He’s always been sweet, but this feels bigger, and it makes your heart squeeze.

“Want me to take this off?” He asks, fingertips sliding under the strap of your bra. 

“Please.” You whisper, using all the air left in your lungs to muster the single plea.

His fingers trail behind your back, tickling you along the way until they reach the clasp, unfastening it hook by hook, letting it fall to the floor.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. So perfect. Wish I had said it the first time.” He says lowly, between kisses on your shoulders.

You hum, both because you don’t know what else to say and also because you are so fully absorbed by Eddie. You watch him as his kisses get lower on your collarbones

“S’this okay?” He asks, kisses stopping before reaching your chest.

“Uh-huh.” You breathe. Your hands move the back of his head again, tugging him lower until his kisses meet your chest. His hands rise tentatively until they press against the roundness of your breasts. Another moan falls from your lips and that spurs him on enough to more confidently massaging you, adding kisses to the mix.

“C-can we lay down.” You stutter, trying to catch your breath. 

“Anything you want, pretty girl.” He replies, continuing his kisses. He guides you, taking steps backwards to the bed, turning you so the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

You lay down and he follows, hovering over you more comfortably than last time. 

You close your eyes, absorbing the weight of Eddie on top of you, and you feel hot everywhere. It’s completely contradictory to last time and he still has every piece of clothing on. Before you can even think of asking him to take off his clothes, you're startled by the wet, hot feeling of his mouth on your nipple. 

“Eddie.” You moan. Embarrassment isn’t a feeling you can harbor anymore, Eddie has you so entranced. Your chest rises and falls harshly, panting as his tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple. You feel like your skin’s prickling and your heads empty, the only thing that exists right now is you and Eddie. 

He switches, paying the same attention to your other breast and you spread your legs further, letting Eddie fall closer to you, hips pressing against yours. 

“Want clothes off.” You whimper, his teeth grazing before sucking harshly on the delicate skin.

“Mine or yours.” He mumbles, words vibrating against your chest and you’re sure you’re covered in goosebumps.

“Both, Eddie.” You moan. 

He makes quick work of pulling his shirt over his head. His hands go to the button of your shorts, stopping to look at you first. 

“I want to try something first, if that’s okay?” He says, dipping down to meet your gaze. 

“Eddie.” You whine, not caring the slightest, you can only think of wanting your clothes off. 

“I can take these off?” 

“Take them off.” You reply, getting impatient. He watches you, and he still looks surprised. You bring your own hands down, and it sets him in motion, popping the button open and pulling them down your legs. 

“Baby, you’re doing okay?” He asks, as he tosses your shorts to the side.

“M’doin’ good Eddie, keep going please.” You breathe, squirming on the mattress. 

“Fuck, okay.” He replies, voice gravely again. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to the floor and begins shifting backwards on the bed. It surprises you, pulling you out of your spinning daze as he disappears between your legs.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You ask, sitting up slightly.

“M’gonna eat you out. That okay?” He asks, lifting his head to look back at you. You’re obviously familiar with the term, but you’ve never had anyone do it to you before, making his actions unexpected. You don’t know what you thought he was gonna do, but it wasn’t that.

You lay back down on the mattress, exhaling deeply.

“Hey? Is it okay? I don’t have to.” He says softly, getting your attention. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers.

“You can.” You reply nervously. He squeezes your hand.

“We can stop anytime, okay?” He says, eyes searching yours and making it clear that he means it. 

Trust is starting to seem more like an understatement. All of the good things you like about Eddie, you’ve always liked about him. Maybe it’s the way your head is spinning or maybe it’s just how Eddie’s always been, but you get a burning feeling for him. Not a desire or a neediness born from the heat of the moment, but like an adoration, like a particular thump of your heart exists just for him. 

“Okay” you reply, nodding your head.

Still holding your hand, he lowers himself again. His breath reaches your cunt and you feel shivers erupt up and down your spine, excitement blooming in your belly. 

“Just gonna ask you one thing, okay? Need your help a little, just tell me what you like, gotta tell me what feels good, okay?” He says softly, popping up once again to look at you. 

You nod, squeezing his hand, and he lowers his head again.

Your whole body jerks as you feel his tongue lick up your core. It’s wet and hot and something you’ve never felt before.

“Holy shit.” You gasp, squeezing his hand again. 

“Good or bad?” He asks from between your legs.

“Do it again.” 

He does it again and it’s good. Definitely good. 

“Good, Eddie. Really good.” You reply breathily. He squeezes your hand in acknowledgement before his tongue is on you again. The warm heat of his breath and his tongue meet your slit, licking up, parting your folds and catching on your clit, making you jolt again. 

When his thumb on the back of your hand starts running back and forth on your skin soothingly, you melt entirely. Relaxing into everything. 

His tongue explores your cunt, lapping up and down before he focuses on your clit, making you gasp. It feels like the almost pleasure you got last time but a million times better. It’s actual pleasure this time, not almost. It tingles all the way up into your belly and you can’t help the way your breathing turns into soft moans.

His tongue swirls around your clit and your mouth drops as your mind reels at the feeling.

“F-fuck.” You gasp when he switches to sucking, making your hips buck against him. “S’really good, Eddie.” You moan.

“You’re so wet this time, baby.” He groans, the vibrations of his words against you making you whimper. The tingles traveling to your belly start to tense, making your breathing turn into quick pants. You want to tell Eddie he’s doing a good job but you can’t get the words out through your gasps, so instead you find purchase on the back of his head with your free hand, tangling your fingers in his hair, hoping he’ll understand.

He switches between lapping at you, flicking his tongue, and sucking your clit. The wet sounds of his mouth against your cunt filling the room, adding to the way your body’s growing impossibly hot, stomach tightening into a tight knot. 

When you feel his fingers at your entrance, you gasp. He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. 

He pushes in one finger first, it’s similar to the prodding from before but much better with his mouth working against you. 

He works his finger in and out of you before slipping a second in and the slight stretch that comes with it leaves you reeling. You think that feeling alone is fantastic until he curves his fingers upwards into an almost hook shape. 

Prodding turns into straight pleasure as he wiggles his fingers in and out, hitting a place inside of you that leaves you gasping for air.

“Eddie. G-good.” You moan, your stomach tensing harshly. You feel your thighs start to shake as moans, gasps, and whines leave your mouth unwillingly. 

“You're getting really tight.” He hums, lips barely leaving your clit. All you can do is whimper as the vibrations of his voice push you further and further into pleasure. “Baby, you gonna cum?” He hums again. 

You nod your head ferociously not being able to produce words.

“That’s it, cum for me, baby.” He groans between flicks of his tongue. His words travel straight to your stomach adding to the pulsing knot.

Your hips buck insenstantly and you feel like you’ve lost total control of your body. All that you can feel is pleasure rippling through you like waves, hitting an all time high, and you break. You cum, harder than ever before. You’ve tried on your own before and it’s barely been worth noting, but this.. this is earth shattering. 

You feel weightless, floating, all of the tension leaving your body. It’s magnificent, perfect, it feels like you’re in a dream. The only thing that tethers you to reality, is Eddie’s hand in yours and the way his thumb gently pushes into the back of your hand. 

You feel yourself settling down from your high, but as Eddie’s mouth keeps working against you, you feel the edges of your vision go dark. Your body fights with prolonging and pushing away the pleasure as it takes you whole. 

“E-Eddie.” You choke out, squeezing his hand. Your hips buck, and he understands, slowing down.

Sucking in a deep breath, you squeeze his hand again and his motions come to a slow halt. 

You are astounded.

Absolutely astounded. 

You have no words.

You tug him by the hand, you need him closer.

“You okay?” He whispers, as he moves up by your side. You pull him by the hand, willing him to hold you as you turn on your side. He complies, giving you everything you need.

You take steady breaths that help you settle back into your body. It could be seconds, could be minutes, could be hours that pass, but eventually you catch your breath, finally grasping the moment. 

“Holy shit.” You exhale. Holding onto Eddie’s arm wrapped around your stomach.

“Was it good?” He asks nervously. You lean back, turning to lay flat on your back so you can see him.

“Was it good? Eddie, holy shit.” You say, widening your eyes as you take in his nervous features and flushing cheeks. Your eyes trail down to his slick coated face. His lips slowly curl into a smile and fuck, you finally understand how he felt after the first time. 

“It worked?” He laughs. 

You take his face in your hands and you kiss him hard. Yeah, it fucking worked, holy shit.

His tongue licks into your mouth immediately, his slick coated lips giving you a taste of yourself. Keeping your hands on his cheeks, you continue kissing him, tongues working in sync until you can’t keep up.

He kisses you breathless. When your head goes dizzy, all you can focus on is the reemerging pulse between your legs. 

Lowering your hands to his hips, you guide him on top of you. He tries to lift himself, hovering not to put all his weight on you but you need it, so you pull him until he rests flush against your body. 

Your hands explore up his chest, wrapping around his sides until you take purchase on his back, pulling him as close to you as you can.

Through his clothes, you feel his hardened length resting against you, and you roll your hips up looking for relief, making Eddie gasp into your mouth.

You do it again and his mouth stops moving against yours, feeding a whimper right into your lungs. 

“Clothes.” You pull away just enough to whisper, grinding your hips upwards against him. 

Eddie’s lips still against yours, he’s resolved into quickened breaths in and out, breathing into your mouth.

“Want you Eddie.” You whine, not getting enough relief from your grinding. 

“Clothes.” He echoes mindlessly, swallowing harshly. He doesn’t move, so you take to moving your hands down, folding your fingers under his belt, blindly searching for an edge to pull at.

“Take them off.” You say a little louder. 

“Right. Clothes.” He says, finally snapping out of whatever transfixion he was stuck in. 

He pulls away, and you miss the feeling of his chest against yours immediately. You watch as he undoes his belt and pants, pushing both his jeans and boxers down his thighs, struggling to get them off. Eventually, he takes to standing, nearly falling off the edge of your bed, making you giggle. When he finally has them off, he’s quick to resume his position overtop of you. 

“I’m getting ahead of myself. Need to make sure you’re doing good.” He says, blinking back the glazed over look in his eyes. 

“I’m doing so good, Eddie.” You purr, hands trailing up the expanse of his back. 

“Everything feels good? Do you need me to do anything else?” He brings a hand to the edge of your face, pushing your hair back, making your heart flutter and core ache at the same time. 

“Want you inside.” You whisper.

“I can do that.” He laughs breathily. He reaches down to the floor, his body weight laying on top of you as he reaches for his discarded pants. After a bit of fumbling, he sits up again, condom in hand. His hands slip on the packaging until he grows frustrated, ripping the corner of the foil open with his teeth. You feel heat pool in your core at the sight, wanting him more than you’ve ever wanted anything. 

“Eddie, you’re so pretty.” You say breathily, his eyes flicker up to you from his focus as he rolls the condom down his length. You see pink raise on his cheeks as his lips turn up at the corners.

“You think so?”

“Know so. So beautiful and cute and adorable and hot and I want you.” You ramble, feeling absolutely drunk off of how insanely fast he has your head spinning with lust. You want him in a lot of different ways, every way. You raise your hands to his shoulders tugging him closer.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers, dipping his face down to kiss you.

“Yours.” You mumble against his lips right before they meet yours. It rolls off your tongue naturally and it feels right. You’re his. Entirely enraptured by him, entirely swept up by him. 

You can pinpoint the exact moment he processes what you said. He had started kissing you hungrily, then it was like it hit him. His mouth stopped moving against yours, and when you slid a hand up to hold his jawline, his mouth started to move again, but differently. 

The kiss turned sweet, gentle, tender. It turned meaningful and slow, like every touch of his lips against yours and every caress of his tongue had purpose. You indulge yourself in the change of pace until you can't anymore.

“Eddie, please.” 

“I got you, sweet girl.” He whispers.

The sunsetting leaves the two of you in the low golden glow. Eddie’s face illuminates with the light bleeding in through your sheer curtains and your heart beats a little faster as you watch him lean back, his cock in his hand, rubbing his fist up and down his length once before lining it up with your entrance. 

The confidence he holds now, compared to last time, makes you swallow thickly. Last time it was cute and endearing, this time, he works you into pleasure and it leaves you reeling for more. This time he says you’re his, and you agree. You always have been in a way. Trust was a disguise, trust was a front. You like Eddie. You always have. 

“Ready, pretty girl?” He asks, voice low as he stares into your eyes. You feel his head at your entrance and you clench in anticipation.

“Ready.” You chorus, relaxing yourself. It’s literal in the way you relax your muscles, but it’s also metaphorical in the way you open yourself up entirely for him. This isn’t your first time, but it’s the time that matters. It’s the time where he is completely himself and you are completely yourself. It’s everything you wanted and more— more that you didn’t realize you needed until now.

He pushes in and you both sigh in tandem. Your sighs mature into moans as he slowly pushes in, fully bottoming out inside of you.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, voice quiet and carefilled.

“Not like last time.” You answer.

“Sorry, baby.” He whispers, dipping his face to yours, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Sorry it hurt last time and I didn’t even kiss it better.” He continues, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips.

“S’okay, Eddie. You’re doing so good now, feels so good.” You reply, voice just as quiet as his. You pull his face down, pressing your own tender kiss to his lips before trailing your hands down the front of his chest, rounding them to hold his sides. 

He shifts his hips, withdrawing from you slowly. You guide him with your hands, willing him to keep going, and he does. 

“S’feel okay?” Eddie says through a strangled breath. 

“Feels good.” You breathe.

“You sure? We can put a pillow under—” he starts to explain, slowing his already slow motions.

“Want you to go faster.” You interrupt.

“Faster.” He echoes, almost like he’s coaching himself. You hum as he complies, drawing his hips and pushing them back into you at a quicker pace. 

Him filling you up and stretching you out felt entirely different this time, way better, and it has you absolutely dizzy. It’s not prodding this time, it’s more like a roll that leaves you breathless, panting just to fill your lungs. His cock grazes your sweet spot with every pump into you and with every other thrust, his hips meet yours completely, teasing your clit with their contact. 

“Harder.” You whisper, and he complies silently apart from the way he harshly sucks in a breath.

His hips begin snapping against yours, the slap of skin on skin echoing in your room mixing with the obscene, wet noises of his cock pushing in and out of you, complimenting the breathy moans and whimpers coming from both of your mouths. Each thrust hits your clit, making you shudder, hips jolting and stuttering with your pleasure.

You feel your insides start to tense and you know you’re close. His thrusts start to falter as his breathing turns ragged.

“So close Eddie, please.” You whine. He breaths a whimper, hips picking up again, returning to his quick, hard pace. 

“Cum for me, baby. Need you to cum for me.” He says breathily, voice pitching up. His hand reaches down past your belly, fingers finding your clit, rubbing it and it sends your hips into a spasm of stutters.

“Eddie.” You cry. You feel your body go rigid before your pleasure explodes, freeing you from the reigns of tension and pushing you into pure ecstasy.

Eddie only musters a few more thrusts with the way your cunt clamps down onto his cock, fluttering and pulsing all around him as your orgasm takes you over. Strangled whimpers pull from his lungs as he prolongs your pleasure until he breaks alongside you. 

“F-fuck. Shit. I’m c-cumming.” He grunts, cock twitching inside you as his balls press firmly against your ass. His hips stutter, shallow thrusts pushing in and out, the warmth of his cum filling the condom. With your half lidded eyes, you watch Eddie— his face contorting in pleasure, and you enjoy the moment, committing it to memory. 

Eddie stills completely apart from his heavy breathing that matches yours. He surprises you when he rolls onto his back, taking you with him, pulling you over his chest, his cock still firmly pressed inside of you. 

“Eddie.” You laugh breathily. 

“J-just need to feel you for another minute.” He replies hazily, eyes squeezed shut. His hands wrap around your back, hugging you closely and you relax into him tentatively. His hands pull you down again, and you have no choice but to put all of your weight on him.

When your combined panting resolves to steady breathing, he breaks the silence. “Was that better?” He asks, pushing his head back into the pillow to look at you.

“That was… better than better. Way, way, way better.” You say whimsily. It was perfect, it was everything, you don’t have any words. 

“Yeah?” 

“That was like… I don’t even know. I can’t even describe it, just so so good. Really.” You say in awe, reflecting on what just happened.

“You can tell me the truth.”

“Eddie.” You say warningly, lifting your head to really look at him. “If you studied like that for all your classes you’d be valedictorian. A++, honestly Eddie.” You say.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” He asks, still sounding unsure.

“You should frame those notes you wrote, hang them up like a diploma in your room.”

“Okay, now you’re just teasing me.” He laughs, turning his head away from you to hide his smile. 

“No! And you wanna know how serious I’m being right now?” You say, reaching up and taking one of his curls, swirling it around your finger, grabbing his attention.

“How?” He asks, turning back to you. 

“Because I’m already thinking about doing it again.” You whisper. You watch Eddie as his smile grows. 

“Really?” He asks, eyes beaming.

“Yes.” You nod, pressing your lips together as your smile grows. 

You watch Eddie as a whirlwind of emotions take over his face, it’s disbelief, happiness, excitement, a few you can’t parse, before it settles into nervousness. It makes your belly knot in nerves immediately. 

“Last time… I was— after, I was so upset because…” He starts, eyes fluttering over your face, avoiding your gaze. He takes a breath before continuing. “I was so upset because I wanted to ask you out, and then after the sex was bad, I kind of figured you’d never go out with me.”

“You wanted to ask me out?” You say, pushing yourself up with your arms to see his full face. 

His eyes flood with worry, and you reach down, pushing his damp bangs from his forehead. He finally looks at you and all you can do is smile. His nerves settle the slightest bit as he relaxes into his own sheepish smile. 

“I would still like to, if that’s okay with you?” He asks, shyly.

“It’s really okay with me.” You reply.

“Maybe I can ask when I’m not still inside you?” He laughs softly, eyes flickering to your lips. “Not that I don’t think this is romantic, but…” he trails off when you start laughing, watching you closely as you do, dimples set deeply in his cheeks.

You nod your head before lowering your face to his. He meets you halfways, pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you sweetly. 

“My pretty girl.” He whispers as he pulls away. 

“Yours.” You whisper back, smiling. 

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

After a few more moments of you resting on top of Eddie, the two of you begin to shift, slowly separating from one another. Lazily cleaning yourselves up, trading discarded clothes as you pick them up from the floor, it’s a good memory, one you want to keep forever. 

The sun now tucked beneath the skyline, your room glows in the low light form your lamp, Eddie’s heartbeat serving as the background music to this moment. You settle deeper into his chest, and he hugs you tighter.

It wasn’t the first time, but it was the time that mattered the most. 

As far as silent moments go, there’s not many with Eddie. He breaks the quiet of the room, shifting to look at you. 

“I think I might want to be a vagina doctor, I know so much shit about vaginas now.” He says, completely serious. You choke on a laugh, surprised by his comment.

“Really?” 

“No.” He says, tilting his face so you can see his smile. “Just know a lot now.” He laughs.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Denial || Men Like Me

Part 2 of the Men Like Me series. Part 1

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girthy age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), masturbation (male & female), cis fem reader, descriptions of reader's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, Joel ignores you until he can't, slightly insecure reader, very insecure Joel, corruption kink, mild fem!dom, reader turns the tables a little, name calling, fetishization of virginity, face fucking (not the mouth, but cheek), kneeling, stripping, moneyshot, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 10.4k Summary: After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. A/N: The reception that chapter 1 got gave me enough serotonin to keep me going, you guys. I hope everyone likes this chapter at least half as much if not as much as the first one. Even the half would give me a lot of joy. And do say hi in my inbox or my asks. I would loooove to talk about these two. As always, pleaaaaaase give me reblog and/or a comment to recharge my writing batteries. Most importantly, a big thanks to @tobuildahomeinthewoods because the smut part was from their idea in the last chapter's comments .

“Long day, huh?” 

“What?” you asked, your brain taking a second too long to process the words. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you said, going back to your glass of whiskey. 

“I heard about the kids. They gotta be more careful,” Tommy said, looking to his brother for some kind of confirmation. Joel nodded hesitantly, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he traced the rim of his glass with his middle finger. So cavalier like he didn’t fuck you with that very finger. Asshole. 

“Yeah, yeah. Climbing trees is not wise,” you agreed, willing yourself to look away from his brother. You didn’t want to get caught staring, or worse glaring. The chatter of the dinner crowd at the Tipsy Bison drowned into the sound of you tapping your fingers on the wood counter of the bar. You got up abruptly, the bar stool going down from the force of your actions. You bent over to pick it up, a hand moving to your chest instinctively to keep from flashing everyone. With no such protection for your ass, you could feel familiar eyes on them. Eyes that you’d become accustomed to having on you no matter the distance. 

“You ok–” Tommy began, but you cut him off.

“You have a good one, Tommy,” you said, grabbing your bag from the bar counter and slinging it over your shoulder. “I gotta go. I’m really tired.” 

Like the fool that you were, you picked your glass up and downed the rest of the whiskey, your throat rejecting the choice with a cough that had you spit out half of the burning liquor. Great. Now you’d have to wash your scrubs before going to bed so it didn’t stain. Fucking great. 

There were some protests from the younger Miller brother, some words of concern. But you ignored him as you hurried out of the Tipsy Bison and into the night. At least one of the Millers had some manners. And it wasn’t the one that broke into your house and showed you what a clitoris was. It was fucking embarrassing that he was ignoring you after that. Even more embarrassing that you had to learn it from a random guy when you were the one poring over anatomy textbooks trying to become a doctor. You should know anatomy better than anyone else. Your mentor should’ve taught you. You’d learned how to conduct a safe childbirth. Even been allowed to close up the last c-section patient. But you didn’t fucking learn how the baby got in there. 

Alright well, you did. But you hadn’t been told about some of the especially sensitive parts of the body that would be involved in the process. 

You tossed your bag on your couch, got yourself some cookies that you traded for last week and climbed up the stairs to your bedroom. It wasn’t a nutritious dinner, but it filled your tummy. It came in handy when you didn’t want to spend time chopping vegetables and boiling pasta or whatever the hell you had to do to cook. 

Your bedroom had become your prison in the last two weeks. You felt trapped, unable to see beyond it. How could you, when it ironically was right here that you found freedom? 

Even as you did something as mundane as eating cookies on bed and spilled crumbs on your sheets like a child, the chair in front of your dressing table was in sight. From where you sat, you could see very clearly the scratch on the black paint that revealed the light wood underneath. Evidence of how you had to hold on to dear life as Joel worked your pussy expertly. Like he knew it as well as he knew the tools of his trade. Like weaving his fingers between your folds was as familiar to him as it was for you to weave through skin with your suture needle and thread.

You felt yourself dripping at the mere memory of his thick fingers pumping away inside you, unraveling the fibers of your being. The sight of him at the bar– his finger tracing the rim of the glass– it took you to the memory of that very finger teasing your pussy.

The pornographic magazines, the entertainment for men, no longer saw the light of day from their box under your bed. Pictures of nude women you wanted to model yourself after in order to be attractive to men no longer sufficed. All you strived for now was to be attractive to him. To be strung like a puppet in his hands while all he seemed to want was to get away from any place where you were. 

You felt a pang in your chest as you recalled the first time you went to the house of worship after your time with Joel to find that he’d been replaced with the younger Miller. Tears stung in your eyes as you felt rejected by his absence. Like he no longer wanted to be in the same room as you, hammer nails into wood as you spoke to your fellow townspeople about their wellbeing. You told yourself it was just a temporary thing. That the brothers just liked to alternate shifts and he would return soon to fix the windows that shattered during a storm in the winter. 

He never came. 

You’d never experienced such rejection before. You’d never wanted before. To want was to risk rejection, to feel the pit in your stomach as you felt now. You never wanted to feel less than, undesirable, unwanted. So you pulled away from all the men you dated. If you could even call that dating. Maybe it was your own fault for thinking it would be easier with Joel. What did you think? That he would fold immediately because you showed off your legs and touched his arm and pushed your breasts out to present your femininity? 

Naive, stupid girl. 

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 

Something twisted in your belly and you lied down, pulling your covers over you as though it would contain the shame coursing through you. 

You probably looked silly to him, like a little girl playing adult. Like a kitten picking a fight with a lion. Less than half his age, just a fucking preschooler on outbreak day when he would’ve been a fully grown man. Maybe already beginning to gray, the skin by his eyes crinkled from the years he spent smiling at and wooing women. Why would he want a girl? He’d want a real woman. Someone like Tommy’s wife, perhaps. Someone he wouldn’t have to teach.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man?” his taunt rang cold in your ear, sending chills down your spine like he was still behind you, fingers buried deep inside the most intimate part of you. You pressed your thighs together, heat pooling between them as it always happened when you thought of what he did to you. 

Shame didn’t deter you as you brought your fingers to your pussy, brushing one against your clit with curiosity. With fear. It felt so good, like its sole purpose went beyond the animal need to survive and propagate. You bypassed it to touch your weeping slit, more comfortable with what you were already used to for carnal pleasure.

Your own fingers had always been enough. Out in the wilderness when you needed to release pent up energy. After long days at the clinic and sharing notes with the other students. When you were tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep. Your fingers always took you to where you needed. You were always satisfied.  

Not anymore. 

You whined as the different angles you tried failed to work. The physical pleasure was the same. But not quite like how it felt with him. His hand was larger, his fingers longer and thicker. He showed you sports inside you that you’d never been able to touch yourself. Maybe this was what people meant when they said ignorance was bliss. Knowledge of pleasure you could have but couldn’t give yourself was torture.

As much as you resented Joel now, you couldn’t help but conjure images of him as you brought yourself closer to release. His deep brown eyes, his large hand that he wrapped around your throat, the way he carried you from your chair and deposited you on your bed. Like a human being weighed nothing to him. Like you were his toy that he could bury his fingers in, play with and set aside when he was done, when he was bored. Entertainment for Men came to your mind again and you cried like you never had at your own touch. 

Your thighs trembled as you imagined yourself as one of those women in the magazines, but only for him. Entertainment for Joel. Splayed out on the center page for him to look at and fuck his hand to. You wouldn’t mind being tangible entertainment. Laid out on his bed, limbs arranged in an attractive manner for him, so he could access whatever part of your body he wanted to play with. To be bent to his will and fucked, to be used, given an affectionate pat on your pussy and put away when you’d outlasted his needs only to be given attention when he wanted to get off the next time. 

You shook uncontrollably, your eyes squeezed shut and the world went blank as you reached your peak. You pulled your spare pillow to your chest, needing some physical comfort after experiencing such a high. You wished it were him instead of an inanimate object. That he would make you feel good and hold you and kiss you all over. That he would stay when you woke up the next day and do it all over again. 

Once the haze of your orgasm cleared up, you cringed at the feelings it had brought out of you. How stupid… Wanting a man who broke in, fucked you with his fingers, and began ignoring you like you did something horrible to him. Fuck Joel Miller and fucking his stupid fucking face. As he said, there were other men in the town. Men who wouldn’t ignore you.

⌘

“How are the windows lookin’?” 

“Fixed ‘em up in time for the cold winds. No thanks to you, fuckin’ asshole.” 

“Sorry. Y’know I ain’t the church going type.” It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t the church kind before Sarah died and he certainly wasn’t anymore. That the young aspiring doctor he fingered in her bedroom was the real reason behind him swapping work would remain his secret.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy grumbled, playing with the now cold fries on his plate. “It ain’t a church, by the way. Maria keeps correctin’ me. It’s the house of worship.” 

Joel rolled his eyes at that. He got the reasoning behind it. The town had people who believed in different Gods and had different religions. Calling the place a Church would be as unfair as calling it a– whatever, he didn’t know any other kind of place for worship. But it still pissed him off when his little brother came to him and went on about something his wife said.

Go off and do whatever your wife tells you, motherfucker.

No matter how he tried, the snide voice in his head that hated Maria never went away. He never said anything to her or Tommy. Maria was decent to him too, unlike the time he first arrived with Ellie. She trusted him with Miles. Invited him and Ellie over to family dinners. But they kept their interactions to a minimum, as though there’d been a silent agreement that it was best they kept it civil so as to not sow discord in the family. 

“Whatever. No point in worshiping, be it Jesus or whatever stuff they got goin’ these days.”

A shudder went down his spine, triggered by the talk of religion. As it became colder, Ellie had begun to revert to the empty shell of a child she was after the events in Colorado. There’d been grifters in the past hiding behind religion to cheat people out of their money, to damage children irreparably while preaching the word of God. The end of the fucking world somehow didn’t stop them from going on. Didn’t stop people from believing that an all-knowing, all-powerful guy in the sky was still watching and would protect them. 

If what protected people was God, guns were God. And Molotov cocktails. Sharp rocks and shoelaces.

Ellie didn’t tell him much, but from what he could piece together, it was a religious group with one guy leading them. And they were fuckin’ cannibals. Sounded like a goddamn cult.

“It’s a nice place to meet people,” said Tommy, snapping him out of his descent into the void of the recent past. 

Joel simply snorted and took a sip of his glass of water. He couldn’t handle his alcohol like he used to. Age and that he had been off his usual cocktail of oxy and whiskey for a long time now. He had to resort to having a lot of water to sober himself up after the occasional evening drinks with Tommy. 

“What? It is! I go there, catch up with everyone in town. Usually people go there when they’re going through some shit. It makes them feel conscious if you visit their house. So I just run into ‘em at the Chu– house of worship– and I just talk to them about their lives ‘n see if there’s anything I can do for them.” 

“Guess you’re right,” he said, slotting his thumbnail in the ridges on the bar counter absentmindedly, scraping off bits of the old softening wood. 

He could go again. Only so many days he could ignore you. But the reminder of the shame coursing through his veins when he saw you this evening made him shake the thoughts off. There was no way he could be anywhere you were without shriveling up and dying of embarrassment. 

You were so young.

Relatively unblemished by the world. A fuckin’ virgin. Never known the touch of a man and moaning his name as you touched yourself. 

Nope, nope, nope. Shouldn't have gone there, he thought as he felt himself hardening in his pants. Shouldn’t his dick be non-functional by now? He was dangerously close to sixty and spent a good two decades without adequate nutrition. Shouldn’t that be enough to turn his dick limp forever?

“Come over tomorrow, then. We’re doin’ a little memorial thing in the back of the house of worship. That young doctor’s idea, actually. She put the idea forward at the last council meeting. Thinks it’ll help people to have something physical to remember their people by.” 

Young, sweet, and so fucking thoughtful. 

Not meant for men like him.

Yet he went the next day. 

The topic of Sarah hung in the air around him and Tommy like a fog beyond which they couldn’t see. It sat heavy in his chest, the memory of his baby and worse, everything his shit brain had forgotten. He remembered that she gave him shit, mocked him over everything. But she didn’t have a voice in his head anymore. He could describe the sweetness of her voice, but it no longer sounded out in his mind. No matter how hard he tried. 

Her favorite color was purple and she loved soccer. He couldn’t recall the name of her team. She loved reading. He didn’t remember her favorite author. She liked animated movies. He couldn’t remember a single one. Just the vague memory of her falling asleep on his lap as cartoon characters chirped away on tv. Even her face was beginning to blur. When he recalled her features, it was only through images of the last seconds of her life.

“We could just do alphabetical order. Simple.” 

“Not really,” you said, scribbling lines on the paper. “We get new people in the town sometimes and we don’t want the names they add to stand out, away from the alphabetically ordered list. Might make them feel bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What about age?” Tommy suggested. 

“Still the same problem. It would force newcomers to have their own separate list at the bottom.” 

“How about a first come first serve system? We tell people when we’re taking names down for the memorial and they can come over, form a queue and give us the names they want included. That way, people can keep the names of the people they love in one spot on the memorial instead of having it scattered all over because of age or alphabetical order.” 

“What do you think, Joel?” Tommy asked, making him fold his arms over his chest and sigh. He didn’t give a shit. But that wasn’t the most amicale thing to say when someone was trying to do an objectively good deed. Unlike the other people in this town, he didn’t deserve to add the names of his people to a memorial. He failed in protecting them. He didn’t deserve to mourn like he wasn’t the reason they went into early graves. 

“Yeah, ‘s good. I agree.” He said, finding no faults with your proposal to order the names of the deceased by the order in which people gave it to ‘em. He didn’t know why he was being asked all this. It wasn’t like he was on the council like them. He was just takin’ measurements when he got dragged into this. 

“How many names do you think we’ll get?” Tommy asked him in yet another attempt to get him involved. 

Taking pity on his brother, he began a rough estimate of the number of names they’d get for the memorial and how much surface area they’d need for carving them in. “Six hundred people in town. Babies don’t have names to give. Kids wouldn’t have too many and if they had any, it would be on their parents’ list too. How many kids in this town?”

It was a fucking nightmare, sitting there at the table with you and doing calculations when all he wanted was to throw you over his shoulder and take you back to his place. Make you pose like you were posing in front of your mirror that day. Like women in those porno magazines he sneaked into his teenage bedroom and jerked off to. The fuck were you even thinking? Door left open, tits out, fingers in your cunt and his fucking name on your lips. 

Did you notice him at your door and decided it would be a fun trick to play on an old man? Or did you always scream his name when you fucked yourself? When was the first time? Did you always come so prettily on your own fingers like you came on his? Being in the dark drove him crazy. But part of him felt that getting the answers would drive him absolutely fucking insane. 

The thought alone was enough to make him feel uncomfortable in his pants. He adjusted himself on his seat and looked away from you, afraid that somehow you’d be able to tell that he was having improper thoughts about you when you were talking about honoring the dead. If thinking about you sexually in a church was bad, he was sure it was worse to think it when you were trying to help people memorialize their dead.

You had an air of innocence about you. The brightness of your eyes and the way you moved your hands about as you planned the details of this memorial and scribbled them out on your little notebook. He’d been attracted to that innocence from the very start. A rare thing to find out in the world. When even babies were born into violence and oppression, innocence was a luxury no one even thought to acquire. 

A virgin, too. 

His cock twitched in his pants. He gulped and looked around to check if anyone had caught his shameless response. Nope. 

He was surprised you were a virgin. For all your innocence, you were also fucking beautiful. There were plenty of guys in town. Ladies too, if you liked that. Anyone would’ve snatched you up quick and made sure to show you a world of pleasure. It didn’t take him long knowing you to give in to temptation. It was fucking impossible that no man had worshipped with his head between your thighs. That no man who saw you in your pretty little dresses bent you over and filled you up with his cock.

You were beautiful. Even more so when you came on his fingers. Made all those pretty little sounds. The way you said his name… Nobody had said it like that in such a long time. Not even Tess. 

It rang in his head whenever he found himself alone at home. Being in possession of your panties didn’t help matters. White cotton. Innocent. Covered in your dried up release. When he left that day, he made sure to suck on his fingers. Moaned like a fucking creep while going down your stairs. Eyes closed, he could still taste you on his tongue. After so many days. A little tangy with a hint of salt from your sweat and all woman. 

It had been embarrassingly long since he felt like a man. He’d been father, brother, smuggler, and father again. But long since he was just man. Never someone desirable. Out there, sex was just for release. Purely biological. The end of the fucking world did not afford good hygiene. You fucked someone because they were the safest option. Not because you were attracted to them.

You, however… You had others in this town. You were here before him. Younger, smarter, with a body that worked perfectly fucking well. You could have anyone but it was his name you were moaning out in the privacy of your room. 

He grunted as your voice crept back into his mind. The ‘Joel, please’, and the ‘Sir’. 

He grabbed on to the railing as his thighs trembled, afraid he would have an embarrassing fall. His breaths grew quicker and his mind void of everything but you. 

On your knees. On your back. On your front so he could fuck you from behind. Your hand around his cock. Your lips stretched out around him as you struggled with his size. Fistful of your hair as you begged for release. Please, Sir. Please, Joel.  The heat of your tight velvety cunt. Tears blurring your wide eyed innocence as he stretched out your rear hole. He wanted to take you everywhere, leave you burning with him. Mark you so deep every man you let in after you would know who fucked you first.

It didn't take long. The mental images of you were far too effective. His last time was too long ago. He was too old to last. Too old to want you. Somehow the reminder only pushed him further along. Sticky white cum coated your panties, mixing your scent with his. The mirror showed him a reflection of himself. Old, gray, crow’s feet by his eyes. He dropped your panties in the hamper, the warmth of his own release on his hand and the shame on his face sobering him up quickly. 

He wanted to teach you sin. But you had taught him more of it already than you would ever know.

⌘

“Cool jacket, dude!” 

“Uh…thanks. I traded for it years ago” you said, digging your thumb nail between the teeth of the zipper. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it worked well on cold nights that weren’t cold enough to warrant a sweater. “Is Joel in? I need to talk to him about a building project.”

“Yeah,” said Ellie before pressing her lips into a thin line. “I mean, he was awake half an hour ago when I left, but he could be in dreamland by now. Cause he’s old.” 

“Ah. Of course,” you said, smiling awkwardly at the girl. Joel’s kind of, sort of daughter. You were closer to her than Joel in age. You rolled the memorial plan tighter and tighter, your hands needing to be occupied with something as your mind reeled at the inappropriateness of your desires.

“I’ll make sure I don’t wake him up,” you said before leaving the girl to return to her group of friends. 

He was old enough to be your father. It should disgust you, scare you. Maybe it would’ve if you’d had an actual father in your life. A point of reference to know how vile a man of that age would have to be to want a girl your age. You tried to force some disgust into your veins, hoping that would help in putting out the fire in you that threatened to consume you whole. But it was hard to convince yourself that this was wrong when he’d made you feel so good. 

Your fingers had become inadequate overnight. If his fingers were so powerful over you… You shuddered to think what he could do for you with his penis. It had to feel better. The organ was made for it, unlike fingers.

You stopped outside his door and knocked without giving it a single thought. If you’d thought about it, you would’ve fled. It had already taken you hours to muster up the courage to make the walk to his house with the draft sketches for the memorial. You wouldn’t let your desperation ruin it. 

He looked surprised to see you, mouth opening and closing as though he’d forgotten how to process language. His dark brown curls and the silver that decorated it sat messily atop his head. Like he’d run his fingers through it. An old t-shirt stretched over his chest and struggled against his arms. A pair of dark sweatpants sat on his hips, the drawstrings hanging in the front. 

“Hey? Uh…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing a hand up to his face and scratching his beard. Why was that hot? You had to be out of your fucking mind.

You cleared your throat and looked up into his eyes. “Does something have to be wrong?”

“You’ve never come here, so I thought…” 

“I’m here about the memorial plans. I have a few designs I want to run by you,” you said, holding up the rolled up sheets of paper.

“Ah. That. Sure, uh come in,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to allow you passage. You looked around his house, careful to seem disinterested so he didn’t have more reasons to think you were a stupid little girl pining after him just because he made you come once. 

Shit. He probably already thought that. 

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me.”

You swallowed at the reminder as he led you to the dining table and offered you a seat. You looked around while he cleared the table. Plates, tools, some worn out novels. So he was the messy sort. You didn’t know who you would be if you’d had the chance to just be. You didn’t know if you would leave things lying around like that if you’d had a normal start to life. Like Joel. Like the others who were old enough to remember life before the cordyceps.

The place didn’t scream Joel Miller. There were no personal artifacts decorating his living room. No framed art. No books. No throw pillows or even a blanket on the couch. 

You knew what it was like to have nothing in your house. When you were still new to the town and it hadn’t hit you yet that you were allowed to have your own things. Collect stuff and not worry about having too many things to carry with you when you had to run. You didn’t own anything you couldn’t fit into your backpack. And you took that backpack everywhere when you managed to step outside your new house. 

But over time, you’d decorated your house. People you helped out at the clinic often gave you things as a token of their gratitude. Kids drew pictures for you. A lady once gave you the art off her wall that the previous owner had put up. Tommy and Maria gave you a new sweater that she’d knit when she was pregnant. New yarn from new wool from the town’s sheep. The first time you ever got something truly new. 

“No decorations, huh?” 

“What?”

“You don’t have any decorations here,” you pointed out again and licked your lips nervously.

“Uh, yeah. Not really the priority. Have’ta trade wisely. Can’t be gettin’ pictures when ya need bread.” 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “But you don't have to trade for it, you know? You could put up something of what’s in the house already. Surely the previous owners left some stuff.” 

“They did. Traded ‘em all for things we need. Fresh fruits, bullets, that kinda shit.” 

“Well, it doesn’t have to be framed art. You could cut up a nice picture from a magazine or something.” 

Joel looked up from the plans, head tilted and an eyebrow raised. Shit! Of course he thought you were talking about your magazines with the naked women. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you said, your voice coming out squeaky. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and looked down at the plans. 

“Let’s discuss the plans,” he said, his voice all gruff and his tone so stern. 

“I-I- uh… May I use your restroom?” you asked, unable to look him in the eye after what you’d said. After how he’d reacted. You really didn’t mean it like that. But you could see why that would be hard to believe when the last time he saw you, you had a box full of those men’s entertainment magazines on your bed and one open in front of you as you touched yourself. 

Touched yourself and moaned his name. 

“Upstairs, second door to the left.” 

You squeaked out a thanks before you bolted out of his dining room and made your way up the stairs. There were two bathrooms. One decorated with band posters and a poster of a girl with weirdly cut black hair sitting on a motorcycle. Had to be Ellie’s. The second door to the left was another bathroom. Joel’s, apparently. There was just one bar of soap, a toothbrush, and a pot of toothpaste. No shampoo bar. You pulled the toilet seat and lid down before taking a seat. 

You let out a groan and planted your face in your hands. Why the hell did you have to go and make it awkward like it wasn’t already that way. After he made you come that day, he’d refused to be anywhere near you. You hoped it was just coincidence, but after over a week it became undeniable that he was avoiding you. 

He probably thought you were going to catch feelings. A girl in one of the romance novels you read fell in love with a guy who took her virginity. And there was the time you overheard this guy talking about not wanting to sleep with a girl because she was a virgin. He was afraid she would catch feelings and get clingy. 

Now here you were in his bathroom because you thought it was wise to make small talk and ended up insinuating he should put up dirty pictures on his wall. You could scream. But you wouldn’t. There was already enough awkwardness with him. 

You could always jump out of the window and run off to your house. Never speak of this again. Pretend nothing happened if Joel tried to talk to you about it. But something told you that he wouldn’t. He would probably be happy if he never had to interact with you again. You had been acting desperate. He caught you touching yourself moaning his name, for fuck’s sake! 

Your hands, permanently dry from all the times you scrubbed them clean for your patients, found some moisture from your salty tears. It was embarrassing, sitting in the bathroom of a guy who wanted nothing to do with you after you scared him off with your stupid little infatuation. 

You were a grown woman. Still young, but too old to be acting like this. You should have some experience already. Not sniffling over a man more than twice your age. He was right. He had been a grown man with experience longer than you’d been alive. Of course he wanted nothing to do with you. 

The window looked more and more attractive as the seconds passed. It had been a while since you did something like that. You didn’t need to jump out of buildings or trees anymore. You didn’t go on patrols like some residents. With no need to fight for your life and having all the food you could need to never go hungry even once, you’d become a little unfit. If you broke a bone jumping out of Joel’s bathroom window, there would be questions. And everyone would know. You’d have to avoid the whole town instead of just Joel. 

You’d just have to face it. Even if facing it was doing as little as just bidding him goodbye and bolting out of his house without an explanation. You got off his toilet and pressed the flush just so he didn’t think you were weird. Like it fucking mattered. He already found you weird and desperate. 

You washed your hands, letting the water wash away the tears on your hands before wiping your wet hands over your face in an attempt to remove traces of your crying. 

You should’ve just left after that. Not looked around. Not snooped like a creep. You didn’t ever dig. You didn’t have to look too deep to catch it. But a sliver of white peeked out through the netted walls of the laundry hamper. A sliver of white cotton with a light blue stitch. 

Without second thought, you dug into his dirty laundry. You came up with the white cotton fabric, going straight to the gusset where the blue thread stitched the fabric pieces together. The original stitch had given out and you sewed it back together just some time back. The blue thread was all that you had at the time. 

As though the sight of your panties in Joel’s bathroom wasn’t jarring enough, next came the smell. Of you. Your cum. You felt practically hear your own heartbeats as you recalled how he’d cleaned you up with your own panties. You recalled that he stuffed the fabric in his pocket as you lied on your bed, pussy still pulsating from his handiwork, brain melted, and life changed forever. 

You took another whiff of your panties, goosebumps raising the hairs on your body as you felt it. Your cum and something else. It was still damp.

Blood rushed back up to your face and you felt yourself getting tense. 

This fucker. How dare he? You’d been embarrassed just a minute ago over your desires and he was doing this the whole time? Noticing you on the streets and running away for days. Running back to his home where he kept your fucking panties, apparently. Avoiding you for so long only to cum in your panties. 

So he wanted you. 

If not you, he at least wanted sex. Dirrty old man who liked attention from you, but you weren’t even disgusted. Just angry he was pretending to be better than that. He could’ve used any old rag, but he used your panties. 

You brought your defiled panties back up and smelled them again. Strangely, it smelled something like bleach. Or you could be wrong. You’d never… You didn’t know what a man’s release was supposed to smell like. Was it different for each man or did they all smell the same? 

Wetness pooled in your panties as you imagined him touching himself. Large rough hand wrapped around himself. Did he think of you when he did it? Think of you naked in your bedroom and taking his fingers? What did his penis look like? What would it feel like? Soft? Rough? You’d wondered about having one inside you, but never about a particular man’s anatomy. But this was Joel. Joel was the only one who’d gotten this far in your head. 

He couldn’t deny it to you anymore. If nothing else, you could at least call him out for ignoring you when he was wiping his ejaculate off with your stolen panties.

“Joel!” you called out before your fears could talk you out of confronting him. Unsure if he would’ve heard you, you opened the bathroom door and yelled his name out again. “Joel!” 

“What?” 

“Come up here!” 

“What happened?” 

“Just come here.” 

You heard him sigh, the sound followed by the typical grunts and groans he made when standing up. Fuckin’ old man, ruining your life. Ruining your self-confidence. Ruining your fucking panties. His heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs as he climbed up, the sound getting louder as he got closer to the bathroom. 

“Why were you screaming my name like y–” he stopped mid scold, frozen in place by the door as he saw what you had in your hand. He opened and closed his mouth, as though attempting to explain but deciding otherwise. He licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but at you. 

“Do you not have rags, Joel?” you taunted, taking a step towards him and enjoying seeing him step back. You felt powerful, moving a large man with just your voice. It was very unlike how he made you feel all the days he ignored you. Weak, insignificant, undesirable.

“You weren’t meant to– Fuck, I’m sorry!” 

“Which part are you apologizing for? For breaking into my house and touching me? For ignoring me ever since? For stealing my underwear? Or for doing whatever you did with it?”

You moved him out of the bathroom, making him walk backwards in the hallway you hoped led to his bedroom. Even if it didn’t, you’d be fine. You’d exact revenge in any place you can. As long as you got to make him feel the way he made you feel. Pleasure. Shame. Want. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”

You took your last step towards him, finally trapping him against a wall. You stood close enough to place your hand on his chest. You licked your lips, the rock hard muscles beneath your touch storing itself away in your mind for later use. 

“Imagine what would happen if I told someone? You sister-in-law, perhaps… She hates you, doesn’t she?” You smirked, though you were screaming on the inside. You didn’t know where you got all this courage from. You didn’t know you had it in you to threaten a man as imposing as Joel. 

He turned pale, his hands up against the wall in surrender. If you’d asked him, he wouldn’t tell you the truth that it was to keep himself from touching you. “Please don’t tell anyone. I won’t do this again, I swear.” 

“Maybe I want you to do this again…” 

“You don’t. Trust me.” 

“Shh!” You said, placing your index finger on his lips. Pink, perfectly shaped, and so damn kissable. “Don’t tell me what I want. You ignored me ever since you walked into my house without my permission and shoved your fingers inside me. I was walking around town believing I wasn’t good enough for big old Joel Miller. What did you say? That you’ve been experiencing longer than I’ve been alive?” 

You raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t answer. Then he nodded reluctantly.

“Why were you coming in my panties then if I didn't measure up? ” 

“I won’t do it ag—” he groaned when you grabbed his cock through his pants. He let out a low grunt and his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck as he swallowed. You replaced your index finger with your thumb, tracing his trembling lips as you lazily stroked his cock with your other thumb. 

He filled your whole hand and there was still more. It took everything in you to not moan at the sheer size of him. To not grind your belly against it to feel it against you. You didn’t know how big it was supposed to be, but the romance novels you read always described the big ones as more desirable. 

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I asked why. Why did you steal my panties, Joel Miller?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did you come on it? Don’t fucking lie to me cause I can fucking smell you on it.” 

“I did. I jerked off with it.” You had to choke back a moan at that. No, you had to be strong. Show him you could take the upper hand just like he did with you. You weren’t a little girl with a crush. You were a woman and you could have this effect on a grown man. You refused to be discounted with a pat on your pussy no matter how much you wanted him to touch you like that again. 

“Mmm. And that’s enough to get you going. Just a pair of my panties.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Show me how you did it.” 

“What?” He asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Show. Me. How you did it.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, his hand coming up to stroke the base of his neck. “Wh-What?”

You felt your heart thud against your ribs and if you didn’t know from experience and your textbooks, you’d have been afraid that he could hear it. You’d never done anything so daring. You were the timid girl when it came to this stuff. That the thought even occurred to you was a testament to how much you desired Joel. Not just to sleep with any guy, but to have Joel. Without a word, you reached under the skirt of your dress and tugged your panties down. 

He inhaled sharply as you bent down and came back up with your panties. Undyed white fabric, a little green ribbon in the shape of a bow stitched to the front, gusset a light gray from your wetness. 

“Show me. I want to see what you were doing in your bathroom with my panties after ignoring me everyday,” you said, taking his hand and forcing the fabric into it. His hand curled around it and you found yourself feeling lighter. You didn't know how long you could keep up the brave front if he continued to have no response. 

“Take your clothes off.” 

It was like something changed the moment you gave him the garment. His eyes were on you, his gaze unrelenting. He took a step ahead and you stepped backward. His lips curled up in a smirk. It seemed playtime was over… Like a lion letting the cubs play at predation before taking over to show how hunting was really done. 

You didn’t know if you were ready for that… Sure it was nothing he’d never seen before, but it was different. The last time, you didn’t do it with the intention to have him see you. He just happened to see you bare and you didn’t cover up when you realized. 

“I don’t have a box full of dirty magazines. I need to see somethin’,” he said, his eyes going down your frame like they had every right to be there. “Or you could leave these,” he said, holding your panties up in front of your eyes, “and run back home. What d’ya say?”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you reached behind to find the zipper of your dress. You weren’t going to run off. Not when you’d been desperate for so long to do something, anything with him. Cold air kissed your back as you pulled the zipper down and the hairs on your body stood up in full attention. You pushed the sleeves off your shoulder and shimmied out of the dress, standing in just your dress in front of him. 

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He looked you up and down. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down. He radiated superiority, putting you in some kind of a daze. “Your bra too. Show me your tits.” 

The crudeness had more wetness pooling between your legs. You nodded wordlessly, afraid that pathetic whimpers would be the only sound you’d make under his gaze. You reached behind and felt around for the clasp of your bra. With his eyes piercing into you, you failed to find it quickly like you usually did. Your mouth dried up, your tongue sticking to the roof. 

He made no effort to help. A mocking smile assumed its place on his lips as he watched you struggle in front of him. 

When you finally managed your task and stood fully naked, he stood up straight. His tongue darted out and licked his lips. You felt like a piece of meat placed in front of a starving man. Just seconds ago, you were telling yourself you didn’t need his approval, that this would just be revenge. But as he evaluated your body, your pussy wept with the need for your body to be nothing but what he liked.

“Room’s that way.” He nodded in the direction of the room. You turned around and took small steps, your shoulders curling inward and your head bowed in submission. Every inch of your skin burned with the strength of his gaze. 

“Kneel.” 

You placed your knee on his bed, ready to climb up. 

“On the floor.” 

One knee still on his white sheets, you turned around to look at him. He was so large. Imposing. The kind of figure you would follow without question. So, you did. 

“You look pretty on your knees.” 

He took a few steps towards you, stopping when the distance had your neck straightening to look up at him. Large, powerful, imposing. Another step and you were face-to-face with his crotch. His bulge was right there. 

“Go on, take it out. Since you wanted it so bad.” 

Joel didn’t think you would do it. You looked even smaller kneeling at his feet. Meek little thing. He didn’t at all expect you to taunt him the way you did. Especially after you threatened to tell on him to Maria. He fully expected you to start crying. Guess he really underestimated you. Virgin didn’t necessarily mean innocent. 

Yet you folded as soon as he took the reins. He saw the change in you right when he told you to take your clothes off. When your eyes went from determined to defeated. All that spunk evaporated to reveal the little girl underneath. He liked it like that. Made him feel like a real man. Not that there was any scarcity of masculinity in his life of taking out clickers and defending this town. But somethin’ about a beautiful woman accepting his authority did the trick faster than every other display of masculinity. 

Your hands fiddled with his belt, trembling as you tried to take it off. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. “Just undo the zip.” 

No way he was going to get naked in front of a pretty little twenty something. It wasn’t anything great to look at even before he began a life of violence and traversing the wilderness. Sure he was well built from all the hard physical labor and constant fight for survival. It’d left several unappealing scars on his person. Time had done a number on him too. Especially his pudgy belly. It didn’t help that food flowed free in Jackson, fattening him up a little. 

Thankfully, you listened. You looked up, as though you expected him to complete the task for him. He challenged you with a look. Wanna be a big girl so bad, act like one.

You reached inside his pants and took his cock out. Your lips parted and he heard you inhale through your mouth. His cock hung in front of him, hard from your teasing. He had to give it to you, you were daring for a meek little thing. No one in town would believe him if he told them all that you’d done. And he suspected he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Not too late to back out, you know?” he said, wrapping his hand around himself. It took everything in him to give you an out. As much as he wanted to grab your face, force your mouth open and make you gag around him, he was man enough to let you know you didn’t have to do anything. Young girl probably bit more than you could swallow. And seeing his cock and your mouth so close by showed that he was definitely nothing you could swallow.

“I’m not backing out.” 

“First time seeing one?” 

“Of course not. I work at the clinic. You think I haven’t seen a penis?” 

“No anatomical terms. I ain’t your patient. Go on, touch my cock.” 

You reached up for him, but he stepped back, delighting himself in the disappointment on your face. “Come on, you want a man so bad, work for it.” 

You moved to stand up. “Did I say you could stand up?” 

“No.” 

“Then get back on your fucking knees.” 

You dropped to your knees and he groaned in satisfaction. The euphoria of wielding power over someone rushed through his veins. And he wanted more. It was the same sick satisfaction he got when he beat men to death. When he broke bones and dressed animals he hunted in the wild. “Good girl. You’re going to listen to what I say. Got it?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Fuck! That fucking word again.

“Come on, come get it. Hands and knees. Crawl to me.” 

He beckoned you forward with one hand, his other still on his cock. You bent over and god fucking damnit, you were a vision. You were an eager girl and he could see what you could become in the right hands. His hands. The things he could show you… Introduce you to your own body. Bring you pain and pleasure that were indistinguishable.

Your tits hung from your chest, swaying as you crawled towards him. Feverish, bright eyes followed him as he continued to refuse what you wanted. Too fucking late. He warned you. Told you men like him weren’t for pretty little things like you. But you didn’t fucking want to listen. Now you’d have to deal with the consequences. Maybe you’d stay away then. 

“Please, Sir,” you whined so prettily he almost gave in. 

“What are you begging for?” 

“You. Y-your penis.” 

“My cock,” he corrected. “Say it.”

“Your cock, Sir.” 

“Good girl. C’mere,” he said, giving you a nod to come closer. You crawled to him and when he didn’t back away, sat up on your knees. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and gripped your hair, making you hiss. Holding you in place, he brought his cock to your face. You looked up at it, your eyes widening and your mouth slackening. You brought your hand up and touched his tip with just your thumb. The rest of your hand followed, wrapping around him. He gasped silently as you stroked his slit with your thumb, making him leak precum on you. 

“Did…? Did you?” 

“No. Gotta do more ‘n that to make me come. That’s precum.” 

“Oh.” 

He didn’t think you knew what precum was. Probably not the focus of your education here. Not the most important thing when townsfolk came in injured after patrols or suffering from a fever that was life threatening without the medicines of the past. 

He pressed his cock against your cheek. The sight presented a visual of how you’d struggle if you took him in your mouth. He’d have you choking on him before you even took half. He twitched against your face at the mere thought. You were the picture of innocence, even with his cock on your face. Even with the stunt you pulled before he put you back in your place. 

“Think I’ll just do this. Fuck your pretty face.” 

You whimpered, spurring him on. He wanted to force himself inside you, punish your mouth for having the gall to speak to him the way you did. Make you cry from how full of him you were. Give you a sore throat so when you spoke to him again, you’d remember to speak with respect. But you wouldn’t be able to handle it. So he’d settle for defiling your sweet features, hold his cock against your cheek and rut like the animal he was.

“I ain’t gonna lay you out on my bed and take you nice and slow. I’m just gonna use you. ‘s what men like me do.”

He pulled away, giving you another opportunity to rethink this. “You can put your fucking clothes on and leave if you don’t like it.” 

To his surprise, you stayed put on your knees. You shook your head before reaching up and rubbing your cheek against his cock. You let out a soft moan, eyes closed and your thighs pressed together tight. “No, no. I like it.” 

“Fuckin’ slut,” he said, his hand back in your hair. He tugged at it and took his cock in his other hand. He tapped your lips with his tip, smearing the precum that leaked out of him. “You like an older man using your face like it’s a pussy?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He snorted, amused. “Never met a virgin slut before. Getting your face fucked before your pussy. Bet you’re wet from this.” 

There was the sweet little whimper from you again. He wanted to hear more of it. Trap you underneath him and make you weep and cry and whimper as he split you in half.

“Let me see. Touch your pussy, show me your slick.” 

You obeyed, spread your knees and touched yourself. Your hand glistened under the light of his bedroom, your wetness stretching between your fingers in strings. “Goddamn, would you look at that…” he said in a low rumble. “Rub it on my cock.” 

Your hand trembled slightly and you stared at him with a blank look in your eyes. He guided your hand to his cock, withdrawing his hand when he’d brought you close enough so you could decide whether you wanted to follow his command. You touched your slickened hand to his cock, covering him in the evidence that you wanted this. Wanted him. You reached between your legs and brought more of yourself, eyes soft yet glazed with lust as you smeared yourself all over his length. 

“Ask me for it.” 

“Please,” you whined. 

“Please, what?” 

“P-please fuck my face. Sir.” 

He returned his cock to your cheek, your wetness lubricating your face. Hand cradling his cock, he began to thrust. It wasnt much different from fucking his own fist. It was just skin. Not the tight velvety wetness of a pussy or a throat that would gag with his thickness. But your face was softer than his gun callused hands. Even better was your pretty face, looking up at him so adoringly… So full of desire. 

He didn’t have to let his imagination do the trick now. Not when you were right in front of him, lending yourself for his use. And no imagination, no memory did justice to you. Your body. Scarred, but beautiful. Tits that filled his large hands, clean and styled hair, a belly that showed you were well fed. He wanted to lay you out on his bed and consume you. Take your tits in his mouth, grab handfuls of your ass, spread your cunt lips and lodge himself inside you. Give it to you hard so your thigh jiggled and you felt them ache as they rubbed against each other when you walked around in your pretty little dresses. 

But as depraved as he was, he knew he shouldn’t be the first to take you. He’d have you just this once. Store your image in his head to get off with for as long as his dick worked. You acted all brave, but he couldn’t shake off that you were still inexperienced. The first time was meant to be good. The world was no longer normal, but you could have normality within the insular walls of Jackson. 

Even this was wrong. Using you like this instead of making sweet love to you. But he hadn’t been that man in a long time. He was selfish and cruel. If there was no town, no community where everyone knew everyone and you still threw yourself at him, he would’ve taken you in all your holes with no hesitation. Ruined you, kept you until your body wasn’t of use and tossed you aside. But being in this semi-normal place had gotten its claws into him. Softened him up.

He grew closer to the edge embarrassingly quickly, the haze of carnal pleasure beginning to muffle the voices screaming in his head to let you go. He only barely noticed that you were touching yourself. Enjoying this treatment of you. That spurred him on. There was no stopping now. 

You let out soft moans, your eyes never once leaving him. He struggled to get himself to focus. To check for any signs you didn’t want this. But all he saw was you on the precipice of pleasure. The world disappeared. His house, Jackson, the darkness that lay beyond. It was all him now. He felt lighter, like he would float out through the window and everything he’d ever been through would disappear. Every ounce of goodness quietened down, the last shreds of his morality discarded with your dress. He grunted and moaned your name as he kept fucking you. Your features morphed into nothingness. No longer a face, no longer a human woman. All he knew was the ache in his body, the tightness that begged to be released. 

He slapped a hand against the wall as his thighs stiffened and every muscle in the vicinity of his cock tightened. He took himself back in his hand and stroked himself over your face. Once, twice, and thr– mid stroke, he growled and spilled on your face, coating your innocent features in sticky white cum. You flinched as the first stream hit, screwing your eyes shut. He wanted to make you look, see how he could defile you, show you that he wasn’t for you. Force you to confront what you’d allowed into your life so you’d run and never look back. 

But all he could do was keep stroking as he came down from his high. It was unlike anything he’d had in the recent past. Not his imagination, not just his hand. A real human woman who wasn’t just a convenience. One who sought him out, stripped for him, and let him use her face like a toy. 

He took a minute to collect his breath and let his senses return to him. His cock hung semi-hard outta his jeans, like it could go again if he willed it. Like it wasn’t almost six decades old. But he wasn’t too surprised. He could go again for the utterly debauched girl in front of him. Innocence eclipsed by milky white ropes of his cum. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hair and pulled at it. You yelped, but let him pull you up from the ground and drag you to the other side of the room. 

He stopped you in front of his mirror, and slapped your hand off your pussy before replacing it with his. “Look at yourself. I fucking told you,” he said, forcing two thick fingers inside your cunt. You sucked him in with little resistance, your cunt leaking enough for him to force a third finger inside you. You gasped and tried to wriggle away, but he wasn’t having it. He was a fucking monster, but he would never leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially a young thing who’d never had anyone else before. 

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, his half hard cock begging him to go again when he felt the vibrations of your moans. “I warned you,” he whispered into your ear. “Fuckin’ warned you. Told you how starved I was. And you still taunted me. Look at you now!” 

“Please… Please, Joel! Sir, please…” 

“Fuckin’ slut. Maybe you ain’t really a virgin.” 

“I am, I am, I promise. I wa–” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he pressed his thumb on your clit. 

“What was that?” 

You made some incoherent noises, too far gone to form words. Yet you managed to thrust onto his fingers and roll your hips like a real natural. 

“Joel…” 

“I know, pretty girl… I know,” he cooed, the softness in his voice contradicting how he’d used you just minutes prior. Contradicting the cum on your pretty little face. 

“You gonna come for me? Give me another one after you came so sweetly on my fingers that day?” 

There were no answers from you. Not even an acknowledgement that you heard him. Just whines and moans as you let him support your entire weight. Your head lolled back on his shoulder and your eyes rolled back into your skull as he fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Oh the things he could do with his cock… Reach deeper, take the virginity you’d held on to for so long. If he ever had you, he would never let go. He was too selfish a man to willingly lose a girl so precious after taking her cunt. 

You gripped him like a vice, so tight he couldn't pry his fingers out. Something that vaguely sounded like his name spilled from your lips as you crumpled in his arms. Your pussy pulsated around you as he held you against him, unwilling to remove himself from you so quickly. 

He withdrew your panties from his pocket– the fresh pair you took off in his fucking hallways like it was no big deal. He wiped your face with it the same way he cleaned up your cunt that day. Instead of tucking it in his pocket, he forced it into your hand. 

“Put it on. Your fucking dress, too. Hope you learned you fucking lesson.”

As you put it on and scampered away naked into his hallways, he hoped it would be enough to scare you away. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he would always crave you like an addict craving a drink.

⌘

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[bywons]

ꔫ GO AHEAD AND CRY, LITTLE GIRL ( enhypen )

⌕ where you cry in their arms

pairing. bf!enhypen x f!reader w.c. 1.05k tw/cw. none really genre. fluff sru's note. requested! help i don't think i did a good job with this one ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated, PLS REBLOG if u like the fic !

LEE HEESEUNG can feel his heart breaking at the sight, his one and only love, his pretty girl sobbing into her hands in front of him, the cause still unknown. but he doesn't waste any time and pulls you into his embrace, your soft plump cheeks strained with tears pressed to his broad and snug chest, salty tears dampening his beige sweatshirt but that's the last thing that he cares about right now. he shushes you, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other softly stroking your back, in the utmost hope that you'll eventually stop crying. cause every tear that spills out of those pretty eyes of yours, it hammers lee heeseung's heart. would press soft kisses on top of your head until you calm down, along with his hug around you closing in tighter. when you calm down, he'll wipe away all the tears and make you a comforting hot bowl of ramen <3

PARK JONGSEONG drops whatever task he's doing, no matter how trivial or significant, and rushes to you the second he hears something as slight as a sniffle from you. and even when he's not close enough to be seen or called for, jay is one call away. has the biggest “and i crumble completely when you cry” energy. literally pulls you into his lap the second he sees the smallest drop of tears on your face. rocks both your bodies back and forth while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, his hand simultaneously working and massaging your scalp. he literally doesn't even stop for a second until your sobs have completely died down, and even then he rocks you both back and forth while whispering about your problems, while you rest in his lap with your hands and cheeks pressed against his warm chest. jay still doesn't return to his aborted work and don't you dare ask him about it, cause you're way more important.

SIM JAEYUN puts on the saddest face with the biggest pout, literally becoming a puppy face. caresses your face and cradles it between his hands, eventually wrapping his arms around your waist. gets so worried when he sees you sobbing, at one point he gets insecure of being a bad boyfriend, always thinks he did something wrong. jake would press soft feathery kisses all over your face and right when you give the smallest upward twitch of lips, he'll literally attack you with tickles! jake just wants to hear you laugh and wants joy to stick to you forever. brings layla to you too <//3 so that all three of you can cuddle together while he just rambles random things to your now sleeping figure.

PARK SUNGHOON takes a bit of time to process the scene in front of him when you break into sobs, don't get him wrong but he's just disheartened at the sight of your tear stricken cheeks and red puffy eyes. if he's still foreign to it, it would take him some time to approach you in your sobbing fit but if not he's quick to act. but eventually picks you up and makes you sit in front of him at the edge of the bed. if you don't want to talk it out then he'll pull you closer until your heads’ on his shoulders, his hands creeping up beneath your shirt to draw random doodles on your back while you calm down in his embrace <3 sunghoon definitely kisses your cheeks a lot, until you're giggling from his kisses, and then and only then is he relieved. makes sure to ask what was wrong after.

KIM SEONWOO almost cries along with you, the soft and choked sounds of your sobs and your salty damp cheeks overwhelms him. immediately wraps you in his embrace, practically burying you in it. with glossy eyes, he tries to shush you up with an accompanied series of kisses to your cheeks, forehead and lips. when you're crying away in his arms, he'll play with your hair, braiding them only to untangle them and braid them again. gives you all the comfort in the world; he even brings your favourite plushies— that he won for you at the arcade— to you and wraps you in the warm, thick duvet. he giggles at the cute scenario in front of him, before tackling you in his arms and bombarding your face with soft kisses. definitely eats mint choco with you later.

YANG JUNGWON being the reserved and calm man(leader too) he is, he would hand you a glass of water immediately when he sees streams of tears flow down your cheeks. doesn't waste a second after that, wiping away your tears from your cheeks and pulling you into his embrace, stroking your back in a soft rhythm which makes your eyes flutter close. the smell of his cologne is mellow, which drives your nerves slowly and calms you down in his embrace. jungwon hugs you tighter and presses occasional kisses to your shoulders and forehead, just to let you know he's still here, all ears to listen to whatever's wrong. lays down with you, his head resting still upon his chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heartbeat through his grey sweatshirt while he asks you what's wrong. his caresses don't stop even for a second while he lays with you, listening to your heart.

NISHIKURA RIKI ‘s heart melts when you break down like that, #2 at the “and I crumble completely when you cry” energy, don't ask me why. but our boys’ not nervous at all! he loves his girlfriend dearly and always has a trick up his sleeve whenever the smallest inconvenience comes across. rushes to you and hugs you so tight that at one point you swore you couldn't breathe. that is when riki thankfully lets you off his grip and pulls you closer, until your back is pressed to his chest. now it's time for nishimura riki to pull his trick out! girlfriend 101: when y/n's crying, show her cute cat videos. your have died down soon enough after riki holds his phone before your eyes, a random cat compilation video playing. he doesn't forget his cuddles though, literally becomes plush to you while you both stream cat videos that whole day.

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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