#or rather like... you can tell THAT they believe. something. like for real. like there's an actual human mind making a claim

[cherrycranes]

20 Minute Break (Davin McDerby x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Davin McDerby x female reader Summary: You've been flirting with this sexy irish bartender all summer, and finally, you get 20 minutes to be alone with him. Word count: 2,414 Contents: (Minors DNI) Smut, semi-public, p in v, unprotected sex, cum eating. Author's notes: Once again, the lovely @fuckiingloser and I teamed up to bring the Davin fanfic count from like 5 fics to 6. He's so underrated, he deserves more love. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy!

It had been the perfect summer in Montauk. The millennium was coming to its long awaited end and you and your girlfriends had all turned 21 during your vacation. The days had rolled by smoothly with daily trips to the beach and nightly visits to the local bar. As the last summer of the century slipped away, you all decided to spend your last weekend at the lovely beach town visiting your favorite places there before being forced to go back to real life.

The clock hit 11 pm, your friend group dispersed into the crowded beach bar after an hour of pregaming at your hotel. Slightly tipsy, you made your way to the bar, or rather, to the sexy Irish bartender you had been flirting with the entire summer: Davin.

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were wearing a deliberate attempt to keep his attention on you and nobody else. A little jean skirt, a cropped t-shirt that exposed your midriff and a strategically placed necklace with a charm that would draw his eyes to your chest, so he could notice you had no bra underneath. Something he really loved. You were perfect, despite matching with the rest of the bar you were impossible to miss.

You made your way to the corner of the bar and there was Davin. In his black v neck shirt, with that auburn hair and that cheeky smile, serving some customers before setting his sights on you as if he had a radar that detected your presence. He tossed you a sexy smirk, walking towards you like every time you came in. It had become as natural as breathing. You flirted all summer and shockingly, that had been it. Nothing else had happened between you two despite the intense sexual tension and banter you shared. Blame it on his work hours. He had come from Ireland to work and hardly had a night off.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” That dreamy thick irish accent had wormed its way inside your ears and into every corner of your mind since you first heard it, creating a Pavlovian reaction that made your pussy flutter a bit every time he talked.

“Hi, you.” You replied with a smile, leaning over the bar closer to him. Without fail, his pale blue eyes fanned over your face and lowered to the charm of your necklace and, of course, noticed your nipples poking through the fabric of your t-shirt, making his smirk wider.

“You’re lookin’ absolutely delicious tonight love… Can I get you your usual? On me, of course.” Davin offered with a flirty tone, and you didn’t deny him the pleasure of treating you. With extra care, he made you your vodka soda with lime, shooting you a little smirk when he handed it to you in what he believed to be the best glass they had at the bar.

“Thank you.” You purred sweetly and he never stopped smirking. He oh so adored when you talked to him like that. “Pretty busy tonight, huh?” You asked after a sip.

“Definitely. Summer’s comin’ to a close, everyone's tryin’ to soak up the last bits of fun...” His beautiful eyes looked into yours, basking in the burn of desire that mirrored his own. Being subtle was not part of your plans and neither was it in his. It had been a long summer of teasing. All bark and no bite. One time you had come close to kissing him, only for his boss to show up and tell him to get back to work. That night you returned to your hotel room so turned on, your fingers had to make do for the night as you fantasized about his accent, his perfect pink lips and his big hands. Visions of him holding your hips and staring into your eyes flooded your mind.

“You think we'll ever get our moment for a bit of fun, Dav?” You asked against the tip of your straw and his gaze automatically flew to your lips, making him lick his own a bit. 

“I got a 20 minute break tonight… Whaddya say, princess?” Davin’s voice was seductive, smile inducing. Even if the break lasted 30 seconds he would have convinced you right away.

“You wanna spend it with me, huh?” You teased. “How could I ever say no to a handsome boy like you?” And he smiled.

 “See you out in an hour, pretty girl.” Davin purred in that accent that made your knees weak and finished you off with a wink. You downed your vodka soda and watched him reluctantly go back to work. To kill time, you found your girls on the dance floor. But even the club house remixes that blasted your ear drums and made your heart match the beat couldn’t get the anticipation away from you. A few more drinks followed in what seemed like an eternity. A look at the time made your heart jump: 12:01 am. Showtime…

You walked out of the hot crowded bar into the cool summer breeze. The smell of saltwater and the faint trace of tobacco in the air filled your senses. Leaning against a car, there was Davin. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his shoe when he noted your upcoming presence.

“Alone at last…” You murmured when you came close enough to him. Those hands you had fantasized so much about finally found their rightful place around your waist.

“Alone at last princess...” Davin leaned in to whisper into your ear, his breath tickling you. “This little skirt’s drivin’ me mad… I wanna take it off you…" 

Those accented words caressed the skin of your neck and delved into your already wet clenching pussy. He pulled back to admire your face and carefully tucked some strands of hair behind your ear. The tips of his fingers were slightly calloused.

“Well, what are you waiting for? We’ve only got 20 minutes...” You whispered playfully, finding mischief in those crystal clear blue eyes. 

“No time to waste…” 

Obeying you, his soft plump lips met yours in a hungry kiss. Your arms snaked around his shoulders and pulled him so close to you, you could almost feel his heartbeat pumping against your chest. Hot, slick tongues melted together. His mouth tasted like spearmint gum and cigarettes, a rush of more heat traveled to your cunt from just that. You moaned softly into the kiss when his hands slided down to grip your ass greedily, massaging it hard.

Electricity flew by around your burning bodies. The temperature was so hot, the metal of his car could start to sizzle. His cock grew hard in his pants and pressed it into your stomach intently. When you pulled away for air with stinging lips, Davin smiled and opened up his car door.

“After you princess.” He played chivalrous, getting a chuckle out of you as you climbed into the backseat. He got in behind you, and closed you in. Time was ticking and you couldn't afford to waste it. Gently, he laid you down on the backseat and hovered over you before leaning in for another feverish kiss. Your hands ran across his smooth auburn hair and successfully got a soft groan out of him.

“Been dreamin’ about this pussy all summer.” Davin purred against your lips in deep, starving lust. His hands reached up under your skirt and slowly pulled your underwear off you. With a sensual trail of kisses, his mouth found your ear and nibbled on it a little before whispering again. “I couldn't even tell you how many times I've touched my cock thinkin’ about you, love… Watchin’ you sip your little drinks out of those straws at the bar givin’ me those eyes… Wishin’  that pretty mouth was on my cock instead…” 

His filthy words did unspeakable things to you. You moaned softly, muffling it mostly with your lip bite. In approval, you lifted your hips and helped him take your underwear off. The small piece of fabric got lost inside his pocket. His v neck shirt met a different fate on the car floor when he pulled it over his head. His zipper got yanked down fast and his jeans and briefs got pulled down in one go. His sizable erection slapped almost obscenely against his toned abs, making you smirk.

“All for you, princess… You get me so hard.” He prided himself. His hand reached down to massage your breast over your shirt, the tips of his thumb and index pinched your hardened nipple just enough to make you moan eagerly. Both the alcohol and the desire prevented you from thinking straight. One thing you did know for certain as you laid on that backseat: Davin was bigger than what you’d thought he would be. Thicker too.

“Fuck me... Please..” You moaned, your pleading eyes on him making him grin.

“Say no more.” His whisper was husky and sensual against your lips. He watched over your bodies, his cock kissing your slick entrance and slowly pushing in, making you moan heavenly.

In pleasure, he threw his head back. His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment, taking in the feeling of your tight wet heat.

“Even better than I dreamed… This pussy…” He groaned to your ear and you moaned so softly. He filled you completely, every inch of his thick cock stretched you open so well he had to wait a few seconds for you to adjust. When you did, he started an increasing rhythm that erased every thought from your brain. Faster and faster, his pistoning hips seemed to be aware of the short time you had left. The sounds of your clenching pussy taking him in and the slap of skin filled his car for you to remember all your life. So needy and desperate. 

“Holy fuck-” You cried out loudly, sweet whiny noises that fed into his own pleasure. Face to face, he leaned closer, his hands held him up like pillars and kept the hard pounding steady.

“You fuckin’ like that baby? Like me fuckin’ you deep?” He panted against the sensitive skin of your neck, you felt his smirk teasing it. 

“Fuck, yes.” You nodded, your arm wrapped around him to pull him impossibly closer and claw at his back when a particular thrust hit you deep. The air in the car had become thick, filthy and heavy, and the windows fogged. You both moaned in unison, closer and closer to coming at any time. Eagerly, Davin fucked you harder, his movements sloppy, his cock throbbing deep inside you.

“Fuck... I'm so close… This cunt’s squeezin’ me so good... Where d���ya want my come, baby?” He whispered against your lips, panting out of breath. The most desperate parts of your brain begged for him to come inside you, let him fill you up to the brim. But your mouth had different plans.

“In my mouth… Wanna taste you…” You moaned back, clinging into him. Davin raised his eyebrows in a pleasureful interest.

“Mmm… Dirty girl…” He replied with the cockiest of smirks, before melting his tongue into yours. The kiss burned your mouth and took over every function it had, effectively muffling out a moan when his hand snaked between you and started to rub hard circles on your clit. His cock never once stopped pumping in and out of you, so hard you almost saw God in the back of your eyelids.

“Oh my god!..” You cried out, the edge approaching you like a spear through the heart. “Please- Dav... I’m close!” 

That delicious, killer pressure built up towards your most primal places, the tip of his cock pistoned into you against the right places. Your whine transformed into a loud cry when your orgasm striked you down. Your cunt throbbed around him and squeezed him like a vice. Your eyes rolled back a little and prevented you from seeing his reaction of pure, unadulterated satisfaction and pride.

“Fuckin hell…” He groaned loudly, watching you under him succumbing to pleasure. “Jesus- I’m gonna come… This pussy feels too good.” 

His accent as thick as the air around you made you moan a bit more, your orgasm extended as he frantically thrusted in you, so close to his own. You nodded, your brain regained lucidity just so you could also memorize the following moments. 

Eagerly, Davin pulled out, his cock coated in your stickiness. He sat back to his knees and looked into your eyes with dilated pupils.

“You want my come, princess?” He cooed to you, his hand pumped himself close to finishing. Hypnotized by the sight, you nodded.

“Yes, please…” You purred back sensually, telling just how much he loved it from the gleam in his eyes. 

“Fuuuuck.” He groaned huskily. “You’re fuckin’ sexy, baby…” 

Naughtily, you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue. He smirked, and you leaned in, letting his red leaking tip sit on your tongue. The taste of the salty precum danced in your mouth. His hand worked on a tandem to give you just what you wanted. A couple more pumps combined with the feeling of your warm tongue on his sensitive head were enough to push him over just a mere seconds later.

“I’m coming baby-fuck…” He almost whimpered out with a moan. His cock pulsed your tongue when the warm salty load coated it in ropes. He watched through half-lidded, amazed eyes, pushing your hair out of your face softly to take in the image of your lips wrapping around his tip.

You savored and swallowed everything diligently, making eye contact with him when you proudly stuck your clean tongue out.

“Fuck-you are the sexiest thing i’ve ever seen…” Davin grinned and rubbed his thumb gently over your bottom lip. “Whaddya say we go for round two, baby?”

Tempting, you thought. Every fiber of your being craved for as many rounds you could gather the stamina for. Spend the hours you couldn’t have with him all summer in the back of his car. But the mere reminder of the passage of time made you check the hour in a quick motion: 12:25 am...

“Fuck…” Davin muttered when he noticed too, his boss’ voice already ringing in the back of his head for being late during a busy night. He scrambled to get dressed, to your sweet amusement. And you thanked your luck.

“Well, what about your break tomorrow?” You asked with a devious smirk.

[supercorpkid]

Would it really kill you if we kissed?

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Kara Danvers x B!D!reader, Alex Danvers x B!D!reader, Lena Luthor x reader!

Word Count: 3125

Part 1 of 3

It’s late when the conversation dies out. Kelly is lulling Esmé in her arms, while Alex clears a spot in Kara’s bed to lay Esmé down more comfortably—even though they’ve been saying they should head home for a while now. It’s definitely late for a kid to still be up.

Kara leans in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “We should go on vacation.”

You’re not sure what kind of reaction your sister was expecting, but it’s clear she doesn’t get it. Lena only raises her eyes from her wine glass, Alex’s brows knit together, Kelly keeps humming softly to Esmé, and you can’t help but sigh.

“No, come on, guys. I mean it. We should do it!” She insists, undeterred. “Take Esmé somewhere different. Go somewhere nice—all of us.”

“Ummm.” You make a sound, just to break the silence that’s stretching too long.

“What’s up?” Kara frowns. “Why is no one excited?”

“Because.” Lena answers, a single word with no follow-up. You nod in agreement.

“Because what?” Kara presses, exasperated.

Alex finally ventures the real explanation. “Kara, you don’t do vacations. Remember when we tried that ‘sisters trip’ a few years ago? You left Y/N and me stranded at the airport because of a Supergirl emergency.”

“Yes, I know.” Kara winces. “I’ve been apologizing for that for years now.”

You and Alex exchange a look. “And we’ve forgiven you,” you say, almost amused.

“Heh, jury’s still out on that,” Alex mutters, shrugging.

“But we don’t believe you anymore.” You give Kara a half-smile, seeing her open her mouth to protest. “It’s fine, Kar. We know you can never truly relax. It wouldn’t be fun, so we’d just rather not go.”

It’s a terrible lie. Alex and Kelly could definitely use a break, and they’d love to take Esmé somewhere nice and different. Lena looks like she’d kill for a vacation, and you wouldn’t mind stepping away from the endless 'saving the world' chaos your life has turned into.

But if you’re honest, going on a trip with Lena—specifically—sounds like a terrible idea. Your love for Lena has grown to the point of suffocation, devouring your thoughts and swallowing whole chunks of your day. Her face and voice are embroidered in your mind, and sometimes you struggle to tell what’s a memory and what’s just your imagination.

Kara, sensing the resistance, tries again. “No, I mean it this time. I can ask J’onn and M’gann to stay back and cover, and—” She pauses at your collective eye rolls, lowering her voice. “And even if I do have to come back, you guys can still stay. Please. I need this.”

She’s dead serious, and you know it. Lena quickly concedes, admitting you all could use some time off. Kelly doesn’t need much convincing either. But you and Alex still share a look, as if remembering that time she’d left you both waiting at an airport in Australia and never showed up.

Kara looks at you and Alex, her eyes pleading. “It would mean the world to me if we could go somewhere and be normal for a few days.”

You’re the first to waver. Obviously. She knows how much you crave a sense of normalcy. But you haven’t felt normal since the day your pod crashed on Earth, taking you and Kara away from Krypton’s certainty and into this chaos. It’s not like a vacation would change that.

Alex picks up Esmé from Kelly’s arms and lays her down in Kara’s bed with a sigh. “Oh well, I guess we’re going on vacation.”

Kara’s face lights up, but before she can cheer, everyone shushes her. Esmé has finally drifted off. Kara grins, pumping her fist in a whisper. “Yay!”

The next morning, just as you’re getting up for work, Alex is at your door, munching on a box of donuts. Which is a dead giveaway that something’s wrong—she doesn’t do sugar this early unless she’s nervous. You open the door, already braced.

“Alright, what’s up?” you say, brow furrowing. “You don’t normally start your day with a sugar rush.” You reach for the box, but she twists away, holding it out of your reach.

“Uh-uh. I need this.” She says, half-chewed donut in her mouth as she steps inside. “You’re the reason we’re all going on this vacation.”

“Am not!” You sigh, wandering to the kitchen to fill your coffee mug, hoping caffeine will help you handle this conversation before your brain fully kicks in. “It’s not like I’m dying to go.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” she says, arching an eyebrow, as if she knows more than she’s letting on.

Confused, you shoot her a glance. “God, Alex. Going on a trip with Lena is about the last thing I need right now.”

“Really?” She smirks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because it sounds like the perfect chance to finally do something about it.”

You huff, running a hand through your hair. “Or… and hear me out… I could just not go?”

“Oh, no way! You got us into this; you’re not backing out that easily, you little shit.”

“Again, this was all Kara’s idea,” you mutter, taking a deep breath. But Alex doesn’t bite. She watches you closely, her expression softening, as if she’s waiting for you to say something else—something you haven’t been able to admit out loud. You take a deep breath, fighting back a wave of nervousness.

You swallow hard, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “I think Kara might… be in love with Lena.”

Alex doesn’t answer. Doesn’t deny it and tell you that you’re obviously wrong. That your sister wouldn’t fall in love with her best friend, that you’re just imagining the worst case scenario so you don’t have to act on it. She doesn’t say a word.

“Well?” you prompt, a mix of frustration and dread rising up.

“Well, what?”

“Do you think Kara’s in love with her?”

Alex lets out a long sigh that hangs in the air between you—and that’s how you know. She’s been thinking about it too.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” she says gently, seeing the tears gathering in your eyes. “But what if she is?”

You look down, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Then… then I’ll just… have to back off, right?”

“Back off more?” Alex’s voice is soft but incredulous. “You’ve been pulling away for months. To the point where Lena actually asked me if you hated her.”

Your chest tightens. “I don’t hate her,” you murmur, voice catching. “Obviously. I just… it’s too hard. Being around her and not doing something about it. And just as hard wanting to.” You let out a shaky breath, pressing your forehead to the cool counter. “Please Alex, can you find out if Kara has feelings for her?”

“No. That’s on you.” You lift your head, giving Alex a look of pure pleading. “Nope. No puppy eyes, Y/N. Kara’s your sister too. And I still don’t get why you haven’t told her any of this.”

You groan, burying your face in the cool marble, and holding up your index finger. “Donut me.”

“Classy.” she says, popping one onto your finger, and that’s the end of that.

Alex wasn’t kidding. She won’t talk to Kara about your suspicions, and as for you? You can’t bring yourself to do it either.

There was a time when you would’ve told Kara everything—more than you probably should have. But these days, it feels like there’s a wall between you. An invisible one, but solid all the same.

Maybe it’s the way she loves supering—the way she lights up at the mere thought of saving another day. And you… well, you’re still trying to learn to like it. Which is worlds away from loving it.

Or maybe it’s the way she feels so responsible for you, as if she’s obligated to take care of you. Lately, she's been acting so much like a mother that a few weeks ago, you accidentally called her Alura. The awkward silence that followed was heavy. Neither of you has brought it up since.

And then there’s Lena. The real wedge between you and Kara, and the reason you can’t find the words to talk to her about any of this. She would know. One look, one slip, and your sister would know you’re hopelessly tangled up in feelings you have no business having.

Despite all these reasons not to go, you find yourself packing for a vacation on a private island. Lena has arranged everything, from the secluded bungalows to the chef she hired to prepare your meals. You’re not complaining—it’s hard to argue with paradise—but somehow, it feels far from what a ‘normal’ vacation is supposed to look like.

As the island draws nearer, the knot in your stomach only grows tighter. Because, God, it’s just the six of you—Kara, Alex, Kelly, Esmé, Lena, and you. Nowhere to hide. And no distractions from the truth you’ve been so desperately trying to avoid.

Banging on your door pulls you out of sleep the next morning. “Auntie! Auntie!” Esmé’s voice rings out, cheerful and insistent.

You stumble over to the door, while using your superspeed to change, throwing it open with a wide grin. “I’m up, I’m up!”

“Let’s go play on the beach!” she declares, lifting her little arms toward you. You scoop her up, and she beams. “Can we build a sandcastle?”

“No way! Snowman first,” you tease, and soon the two of you are belting out Frozen lyrics at the breakfast table. Alex eventually gives you a look—half exhausted, half amused—and mouths, ‘please, shut the fuck up.’

“Meet you on the beach!” Esmé yells, racing outside, with Alex and Kelly chasing after her, leaving the table suspiciously empty.

You glance up, realizing you’re now alone with the two people you’ve been expertly dodging: Kara and Lena.

“Oh. Uh…” You force a smile. “So, what do you two have planned for today?”

“Not much,” Lena replies, her voice smooth. “A lot of reading on the beach.”

For a moment, your mind betrays you, painting an image of her stretched out on the sand in a bikini. You swallow hard, your throat dry. Oh, you didn't count on images of Lena in bikinis. Damn, this trip will be harder than you already predicted.

“I don’t have any plans,” Kara interjects, snapping you back to reality. Her expression is bright but almost pleading. “Do you want to do something together? We could fly around the island, see what’s interesting.”

It’s an innocuous enough suggestion, but the weight behind her words is impossible to miss. You haven’t really been alone together in weeks, maybe longer. She’s staring at you now, her eyes a little sad, hopeful, and you can tell she’s feeling the distance between you too.

“We haven’t hung out in a while, just us.” she says, a touch of hurt slipping through, like it’s your fault—which, honestly, it sort of is. You’ve been dodging her invitations unless Alex was willing to join. Lately, you’ve relied on Alex as a buffer more times than you’d like to admit, not ready to face everything that’s been bubbling up between you and Kara.

You hadn’t planned on confronting this on the first day of vacation, but there’s no way out now. “Oh, um… yeah. I guess it would be good to know the best spots.”

Kara’s face lights up, that bright, trusting smile of hers breaking through. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Lena watching the two of you, her gaze intent and almost curious. Then she smiles too, a warm, satisfied curve of her lips that sends an unsteady pang through you.

“Well,” Lena begins, her tone light but pointed. “We haven’t hung out alone in ages either.” There’s no accusation in her voice, just a gentle reminder. “Maybe make some time for me too?”

You knew this was coming. The wall you’ve built, the distance you’ve created to keep your feelings hidden—it’s collapsing faster than you can stop it.

“I thought the point of this trip was  to not have schedules,” you say, aiming for a joke, but it comes out grumbly and defensive. “We can hang out whenever, I mean.”

“Perfect!” Lena’s smile widens, bright and genuine, making your pulse race. “I’ve been missing you too, you know.”

They’re not trying to guilt-trip you; you know that. But the sincerity in their words makes you feel raw and exposed, and you can’t help but feel the need to defend yourself.

“I’m sorry, the whole superhero thing…” You trail off, realizing you can’t actually explain it. Not with Kara right there. “And, um, the thesis for my doctorate…”

Lena reaches out, resting a hand over yours, her touch unexpectedly soft and grounding. “Hey, Y/N,” she murmurs, her gaze steady. “We get it. You have a lot on your plate. Really, it’s okay. We just miss you. You’re… you’re fun to have around.”

Fun. It’s meant to reassure you, but the word sinks like a stone in your chest. You don’t feel fun. Lately, every moment spent with them has been a calculated exercise in restraint. It’s exhausting—lying, hiding, swallowing words you’re afraid will slip out. It’s not fun to be hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Lena. It's not fun to know you can't do anything about it because Kara might be in love with her too. And it’s even less fun to not be able to be yourself around your own sister.

You stand up abruptly, plastering on a smile that feels almost painful. “Cool. I’ll just, uh, grab something from my room, and then we can go flying?”

Kara nods, visibly brightening. “Perfect!”

But as you walk away, a sinking feeling settles over you, knowing that the closer you get to these two, the harder it is to keep pretending.

You actually like flying. Seeing the world from above, watching your problems shrink to nothing but blips—it’s your favorite power, if you’re honest. When you and Kara first discovered what you could do, you felt invincible, legendary even. Like a hero in some ancient Kryptonian folktale. But the thrill didn’t last.

Before long, it became “don’t use your power—wait, please use it—be a hero—but only for the greater good, never for yourself—be a hero—save everyone—forget what you want—be a hero!” Now? It doesn’t feel half as exciting as it once did.

You both land on a quiet beach, the waves lapping against the sand, and you look around, frowning. “This doesn’t really seem like—”

“We should talk.”

“—the best spot.” you mutter, the words stalling as her tone hits you. You feel your heartbeat spike, hammering loudly against your ribcage.

“I can hear your heart racing,” Kara says softly, almost apologetically. You try to steady it, but the thumping only grows stronger as you realize what’s coming. There’s no way around it—you’re finally about to confront what you’ve been dodging for months. “Y/N, will you sit with me?” she asks, patting the spot beside her on a driftwood log you hadn’t even noticed. You make your way over, bracing yourself.

“What’s up with you, ie?” The word in Kryptonian tugs at something deep inside you, a pang of longing for home, for the uncomplicated love you shared as kids. Her hand settles on your shoulder, warm and grounding. “You’ve been so distant from me. And don’t start with the thesis or the superhero excuses. I know it’s not that.” You open your mouth, but she cuts you off. “You’ve certainly had plenty of time for Alex.”

You roll your eyes, maybe too hard. “You can’t seriously be jealous of Alex.”

“I’m not jealous,” she insists, her gaze softening. “I’m worried. You’re my little sister. I promised mother and father I’d always keep you safe, that you’d always have family in me.”

“I’m safe, we’re family,” you reply, shrugging off her concern. “I don’t see what there is to worry about.”

“This,” she says, gesturing at you in frustration. “This distance. You’re pulling away from me like I’m the enemy.”

“Kara, you’re overthinking it.” you say, feigning a breezy tone. But she’s right, and you know it. She’s barely scratched the surface, and already you feel yourself unraveling. So you get up, turning your back at her and you hear a sigh behind you.

“I know you’re in love with Lena!” she says, her voice breaking the silence in one clean strike. You go still, holding your breath as her words hit you like a blow.

“What?” You try to sound unaffected, but your heart’s stuttering tells another story.

“I know you well enough, Y/N.” Kara makes sure you know it’s on her, that she was the one to figure it out. “I’ve noticed the stares, heart skipping beats, blown wide pupils. I’ve noticed how kindly you say her name, and how fond you talk about her.”

“So you think I love her?” You finally turn around to face her.

“I know you do,” she says firmly. She won’t let you deflect this time, won’t let you squirm out of it. “I’m your sister,” she means biologically, her voice tinged with something close to accusation, almost as if she is mad you'd confide to Alex and not her. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“Because—” You falter, the excuse fizzling out in your throat. “I’m dealing with it, okay?”

“By ignoring her?” she presses, stepping closer. “And me?”

You swallow hard. “Among other things, yeah.”

Kara’s brow knits in confusion, like she’s searching for some other answer, something that will explain why you’re pushing her away too. “Why me?” she asks. “I get why you’d need space from Lena if you don’t want to act on it, but why shut me out?”

You can’t answer. Not when you can barely make sense of it yourself. You want your sister to be close, you need her closer—but being near her feels like one more reminder of all the things you can’t have.

When you stay silent, her expression shifts, something like realization dawning in her eyes. But you don’t wait to see where her thoughts land.

“Well, as fun as this has been, I promised Esmé I’d meet her at the beach,” you say abruptly, stepping away.

You’re just about to lift off when you hear her voice, soft but unyielding. “We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

You take to the sky, flying to the other side of the island, hoping the wind might strip away the heaviness clinging to your thoughts. But even as you busy yourself building sandcastles with Esmé, your mind drifts back to Kara’s words—and the truth you’re trying so hard not to face. In all fairness, all you can do is think about the feelings that you hide and sit in silence waiting for a sign on what you should do next.

[fizziepopangel]

A Fizziepop Take: Let’s talk about the beginning of the end and what the last few episodes might mean for the next chapter of Stolitz

Well hello, my lovely peoples! I feel like I haven’t written a Fizziepop Take in a good minute, and I know I'm putting my two cents in a lil late, but I am back and so ready to talk about everything that we’ve seen in the last few episodes because it has been wild…. So, you know the drill, let’s get into it.

So, if we wanna talk about the beginning of the end, we need to be honest with ourselves; the real beginning of the end of one of the fandom’s most beloved ships started back with the incident at Ozzie’s. If you've followed my takes for a while, you know I talk about this night a lot, but that is because this was a real turning point for the couple; the relationship has been strained ever since Blitz felt what he felt that night when Stolas pulled away from him in public when all eyes were on them. Ever since that exact moment, Blitz felt like he was being used and taken advantage of, and despite things going back to a kind of normal for them, those feelings just ended up festering and since our loveable little horse-loving imp doesn’t have a lot of healthy ways to process things and has already had it imbedded in his brain that he ain’t shit, I don’t think he ever fully processed what that night meant from any other angle than “he’s embarrassed to be seen with me”. What does this have to do with how things ended? I’m so glad you’ve asked! Since Blitz never fully processed the events of that night and therefore was only ever able to see it as a royal being embarrassed to be seen on a date with a lowly imp, Blitz didn’t get to see the sweeter side of being gifted an Asmodean Crystal by Stolas in “The Full Moon”. To Blitz, the crystal was more of a “you’re being let go” type of thing because Stolas essentially terminated their contract and since they had never talked about their relationship being anything but contractual, Blitz had no reason to believe that this was really anything but Stolas telling him that he was no longer needed by him.

Now, we as the audience know what the real intention behind the crystal was, and I think Stolas put it beautifully when he tried to explain it to Blitz when he gifted him the crystal….. but I don’t think that words really do much for Blitz in most instances, let alone in the long term. Blitz is more of an “actions speak louder than words” type of imp, but here’s the thing about that: for this saying to be true, actions must be consistent. Because, yes, actions do speak louder than words, but if that action is only done here and there, it doesn’t always show what it should. In terms of the end of Stolitz as we know it, Stolas isn’t the only one who’s actions matter, and unfortunately, I’m not talking about just Blitz’s actions. Being that Blitz has been abused (probably way more than we’ve even seen), those actions matter. Abuse of any sort does a lot more damage to the victim than we sometimes realize, and because of that, it can do a lot of damage in how a person looks at things like relationships and love…. And given the transactional nature of their relationship, and the fact that Stolas hadn’t consistently been a genuine partner to Blitz outside of the bedroom, his reaction to the crystal honestly makes a lot of sense. First, he treats it like an elaborate role play, because sex is the only love language he’s consistently known in their relationship, then when he realizes that it’s a serious conversation, he’s pissed rather than grateful…. Is his anger perhaps a little misplaced? Probably, but the feelings are all real. Blitz does feel used and discarded by Stolas, something he’s obviously felt before since we see in his bad trip in "Truth Seekers" that he feels very much chained to the prince by the design of their relationship, and the fact that Stolas doesn't give him much time to really sit with what’s just happened between them after handing him an out of their relationship doesn’t help…. And then we see the panic when Blitz realizes that unlike what he’s used to, Stolas isn’t going to match his anger, he’s just going to remove himself from the situation and let that be the end of it….

This brings us to the events of “Apology Tour”. I actually really loved this episode despite the fact that my favorite couple literally just called it quits the episode before. We see the aftermath of what happened the night of the full moon, and we see the way both men start to grieve the relationship they had in their own ways, which I would argue is the true end of the relationship since this is where we see both men really accepting that they are no longer a thing the way they were before. We see Stolas taking all his eggs out of the Blitz basket and actually letting himself be happy with someone else, even if that happy is only gonna be for the night… And we see Blitz realizing that he not only truly loved Stolas more than he had wanted to admit, but we see him start trying to let go of what he had with the man despite the point of the episode being that he hadn’t really been ready to in the beginning…. Unfortunately, Blitz letting go leads to his spiral which we see in “Ghostfuckers”, and we see him get himself into a rough spot with his little found family; working Loona into exhaustion burning owl figurines as a form of therapy, not paying M&M while also fucking away all of I.M.P’s money, and using the job they get in this episode as a chance to just roleplay as someone who wasn’t him and therefore wasn’t going through what he was…Really, Blitz did go into a deep, rather dark place, and I suspect that he might be there for a while when it comes to love, which leads us to the big question….

What does this all mean for the fan favorite ship? Will Stolitz really be endgame if we just watched them break up the way they did? 

If you ask me, a humble Tumbr blogger who probably cares way too much about fictional demons, I honestly don’t think this hiatus will really affect the ship too negatively. The time apart may be just what Stolas and Blitz need. Both of these men have trauma they need to start working through individually, and while having a support system can be a helluva help when you’re reopening old wounds to try to get them to heal properly (hehe, see what i did there?), I don’t think either of them is really in a place emotionally to be the best support they can be for the other while they both individually try to do that. Stolas also needs time to learn who he is as a person considering he went from being a baby prince to being engaged, then straight from being engaged to being married, then married with a kid, and directly after that, he jumped into bed with Blitz and just proceeded to place everything he had in that "relationship"… He never really considered anything outside of loveless marriage with an abusive cunt or amazing sex and *hopefully* love with an old childhood “friend”. I think he needs some time to be alone and live just for himself as much as he can as a Goetia, and I don’t think he could have done that with Blitz right now, at least not fully. Vivzie is a smart woman, and she does a lot of things in her shows very intentionally, so I do think that she is setting the pair up for a happier, healthier relationship down the line and I think once they come together again and have more experiences apart from each other, we’re probably gonna get a sort of happy ending for the pair, or at least the start of a new beginning for them.

I’d love to hear what everyone else thinks, because as you all know, this is just a simple Fizziepop Take and anything can happen in the Helluverse, but my take definitely makes me excited for the next episode because I for one cannot wait to see what Vivzie has in store for us next.

[ileftherbackhome]

it does NOT surprise me that there are SO MANY tabloid movies coming out being labelled as "documentaries" filled with "friend of a friend of a friend" claims or like heavily, heavily, heavily biased with a clear narrative the filmmaker wanted to push from the beginning that tells only one possible explanation of the truth.

usually if a documentary is trying really, really, really, really hard to make you think a certain way, it's a propaganda piece. you shouldn't have to force feed your audience the "right" opinion to take away from the film evidence. you should present the full story as accurately as possible with real historical evidence to back up the storyline and the audience will walk away with the right idea.

documentaries should not have an overly persuasive tone to them because you should be able to follow the facts to get to the right answer yourself. if you find yourself walking away from a documentary feeling nothing but "wow this proves exactly what i suspected to be true why arent more people angry about niche radicalizing viewpoint that most people find to be inaccurate" you should recognize that as the first step to being indoctrinated into extremist behaviors and thoughts.

[autisticlee]

I don't understand why so many religious weirdos claim dinosaurs never existed and the bones/fossils dug out of the ground were buried under rock by scientists and then dug back out. it makes no sense at all. does their religion book tell them they were fake? is that what it is? because they seem to love letting some old mistranslated book dictate their entire life, thoughts, feelings, actions, etc. they even make up stuff the book supposedly says to excuse their behavior and justify horrible things, which makes them hypocrites for not actually following their book they claim tells them exactly how to live their lives that they must follow exactly or they will go to hell. but they sure like to pick and choose what they follow and make up new rules. but anyway, why do they hate dinosaurs lmao

[elainemorisi]

cannot tell if I'm Sturgeon's Lawing it, overextrapolating, or in fact remotely onto a thing, but... Media These Days is really taking shortcuts with like, [especially moral] characterization, right? like this isn't a remark in any direction about the contents of the morality, it's a remark about how many times I've watched/read a thing and sat there going like, I'm pretty sure you (writing) expect me to take this as believable, but you actually just have a paper doll mouthing words here, this isn't believable just because the paper doll is mouthing The Good Guy Words

and like it's something beyond Pet The Dog, is the thing. I've no objections to dog-petting as a tool. one identifiable difference being that The Good Guy Words are then later made load bearing for reversal, of all fucking things. it's one thing to have Designated Good Guy that's fine (and actually this stuff is more Designated Sympathetic, so again, "moral" being used very loosely). but if you want?? as I think you want??? me to first believe that DGG is in fact G but then! to be shocked when he isn't... you gotta do more than mouth words. we don't actually share an unspoken and obvious moral code, you the writer and I. but also even in cases where I don't outright disbelieve your definition of Good it... still doesn't work. there's still no there there

and like the fixes are there, but they're not so similar as to feel like the explanation is really in them (closest generalized fix is "remember the agency of other characters" but like that's a fix for so much bad writing it barely counts). it sorta just seems like this particular bar has sunk into the floor? but why?

tl;dr the experience is "I'm not conflicted[/shocked/moved], I'm confused" and I swear, it's increasing. often in total (but popular) shit, sure, but sometimes in not-utter-shit-in-every-other-respect stuff too. and just, why??

[palms-upturned]

Frustrates me to no end seeing people say “what’s your alternative to voting blue? Stage a revolution right now? This second? Get real, you’re posting on your computer instead of firebombing walmarts.” I don’t think that you understand what people are actually doing. I know for myself, I’ve been reading more history and theory than I ever have before. I’ve been marching. I’ve been getting involved with labor activism. I’ve been doing strategic research. I’ve tried to archive and share resources. I’ve watched other people do WAY more than I ever have or probably could. I’ve seen people occupy arms manufacturing sites and hold wildcat strikes and disrupt daily life as much as possible. We’ve all seen this happening at unprecedented levels for months now. And most of all, I’ve seen Palestinians telling us, rightfully full of anger, do not ever go back to how things were before. Do not turn away from what’s happening and your own complicity in it.

This is not something that we can vote our way out of. Our state is built on the same violence being inflicted on the people of Palestine. We helped to build Israel. We are still arming it and funding the “war” right now. Even the most half hearted measures from international bodies like the UN to take the bare minimum of a stance against genocide are quashed by the US. As they always have been, our power and resources are used to reinforce imperial and colonial hegemony. That remains the same no matter who is sitting in the Oval Office. And so does our own struggle for liberation. Meaningful change is never, ever going to come from within. We force the change to happen, as we always have.

If you can understand intersectionality, then surely you can understand this: we are not going to free ourselves by sacrificing colonized people. You may vote blue, and for you it could be a matter of life and death. Believe me, as a poor disabled person in a red state who almost killed myself over medical debt, I know the stakes. But I think you have to own the fact that you are empowering perpetrators of genocide and breaking solidarity with colonized people, not even to liberate yourself, but just to bargain with the oppressor for your life. That Palestinians and everyone else who we have harmed are going to be angry and they are more than within their rights. Instead of deflecting by just assuming that no one else is capable of putting their money where their mouth is and actually trying to lay groundwork for change, just do whatever you feel you have to do and sit with the reality of the situation.

Palestine will be free, we will be free, the whole world will someday be free. But for now, this is where we are, and we won’t free ourselves by operating like crabs in a bucket. Get organized, take care of each other, commit to solidarity. Empower yourself and each other rather than the state.

[master-thief-gray-shadow]

I think the reason the Ryoko Kui interview is making these kinds of waves that it is is because a distressing number of people have somehow, without any real, solid evidence, convinced themselves that Kui is "one of us." There's this idea that only someone just like you can accurately depict your struggles in fiction, that someone can only ever write what they know and if they're writing what they don't know then you, the reader, will be able to tell immediately. Many readers are quicker to ascribe the way the characters in Dungeon Meshi personally resonate with you to Kui being like you, rather than her simply being a very good writer. So when Kui reveals that she has a different interpretation of her own work, that she's not the type of person people assumed she was based solely on the content of her work, that she's not "one of us," it breaks these people. It breaks them to face the fact that you can't always know an artist just from their art, and that authors put things they don't intend into their work all the time. Death of the author is a concept that is often misunderstood and twisted in fandom spaces, so it's destabilizing when it comes to the surface this blatantly. Is Laios autistic? You can certainly read him that way. But that clearly wasn't something that Kui was thinking about when she was writing him, and you can't assume anything in the creative process was autobiographical in any way. Is it really so hard to believe that a writer simply wrote a good character?

Maybe Ryoko Kui is "one of us." Maybe she isn't. As readers, it's none of our business.

[kiwi-bitchez]

The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 

Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 

“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot. 

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked

I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.

Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.

I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:

Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)

In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue

In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.

There is a lot of art on the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.

Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.

The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.

A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.

So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.

I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:

(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)

A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.

It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is as much of a violation of copyright law as straight up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.

Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thing to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.

Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.

I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.

Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.

Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition and standards.

When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.

They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.

(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)

Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.

Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.

Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.

A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.

Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.

Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.

I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.

Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.

So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.

I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.

If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.

[abbyfmc]

[The Mute Concubine]

Yandere Emperor x Female Reader: Warning: There are mentions of kidnapping, stalking, obsessive and yandere behaviors which are NOT recommended to practice in real life. Postscript: The text dividers are NOT mine, so I give credits to their respective creators.

Many years ago, Emperor Ivan ruled Zealia with a heavy hand. He had a young appearance that can be attractive to anyone who didn't know him (and even a little to those who do). He lived in his luxurious palace with his multiple wives; a group of beautiful women who had had some children for him.

Anyone would think that he had everything and couldn't want anything more, and that's what Ivan thought a long time ago despite the monotony of his life. He had a lot of money; total and absolute control over the laws of each kingdom and tribe at his disposal; beautiful women and children; good food, clothing and medicine as well as medical care.

But no, it wasn't like that. Ivan was infatuated with something again; Something was pulling him out of his dream, or rather…someone. That someone was a beautiful young woman whom he had seen during his most recent trip.

She was quite a beautiful and delicate girl, even more so than a common courtesan or prostitute. She had a face that was difficult to forget, and a smile that easily dazzled or moved anyone. She was hired to make Ivan happy during those nights of his stay, but the next morning she disappeared. He not only slept with her, but they also played board games, showing that she was quite good at these since she beat him in the vast majority of the games, which were very silent but interesting. This made him feel more interested in researching her; However, he could not find her anywhere after her return to his palace.

The emperor did not stop thinking about her, reaching the point of dreaming about her day and night. He wanted to go out to find her, but he feared for her own reputation as her ruler. While thinking, he came up with the idea of ​​calling all the girls in his town who had the same physical characteristics as the mysterious girl who now lived in his heart.

All the girls from the town summoned to the palace, introducing themselves one by one only to be instantly rejected by Ivan. He was already starting to get bored after the long day, but he didn't want to give up. From one moment to the next, his trusted butler approaches him and says:

-Your majesty, we have found the girl you were looking for, but there is a problem…- The emperor was interested. His beloved…was she seriously here?, he couldn't believe it; he had to see it himself.

-Let her in, I want to see her.- The emperor firmly ordered. The butler made a gesture and the guards showed the girl in, and the emperor could not believe… that she was the courtesan from that time!, only dressed in a more formal or refined way. The courtesan knelt and bowed, but without saying a single word, which seemed strange to Ivan.

-So… aren't you going to tell me your name?- She was about to take out what appears to be a piece of paper from her sleeve, and just then the emperor's butler interrupts.

-Your majesty, I have tried to ask her name before, but the owner of the courtesan house told me that she is (Y/n) (Y/ln), and that she is… mute.- Ivan was surprised. He now understood why she never talked to him; She was not with bad intentions, because of bad education or because she didn't want to, but because of something that she didn't ask for at birth.

-So that was it. I like it, that awakens an aura of mystery in you that I love so much.- Ivan took her hands and carefully lifted her up. He looked at how embarrassed she was a moment ago, changing that expression to one of surprise.

From that moment on, Ivan made the mute courtesan start living in the palace with him, which made everyone look contemptuously at (Y/n), because she was a courtesan or prostitute and besides, she couldn't even speak; apart from the fact that they envied her a lot for her beauty.

This caused (Y/n) to be forced to use the emperor's hands to defend herself, in exchange for giving herself to him, a man she pretends to love in order to survive in her new environment. She cannot speak and that is true, but she has to communicate with the help of signs, servants, letters, facial expressions and even paintings. Iván loved this girl, because he was not only captivated by her mystery and high genius for board games, but also by her ability to draw and paint.

Ivan, on the other hand, was still obsessed with (Y/n). He loved spending time with her, whether sleeping with her, playing super difficult but entertaining board games, feeling like he had never felt with any of the women in her harem. For him, she is different.

She was… his mute concubine.

-The End.

[creature-wizard]

Continuing on the topic of connection being not a feeling, but a rather a set of circumstances in which you are engaging and participating, I think a lot of people out there just don't realize how dangerous the way many of us have been taught to think of feelings in relation to spirituality really is.

Like Zan pointed out, Evangelical Christians are taught that positive emotions are actually the Lord moving through them, rather than their own personal reactions to their experiences. Meanwhile, Evangelical church services are deliberately engineered to elicit these kinds of of feelings in people. It's pure emotional manipulation.

Similar ideas are found in New Age spirituality, where "spiritual discernment" is frequently boiled down to "does it make me feel good or not?" People are taught to evaluate politically charged information based on whether it, for lack of a better term, sparks joy. Now, determining whether or not something sparks joy is a wonderful way to decide whether you want to keep your old tea kettle, but here we're talking about information that people will base crucial personal and political choices on.

Meanwhile, New Age influencers do everything they can to make sure they're sparking joy for you. Let's take Paul White Gold Eagle, for example. His videos are constantly talking about things that sound exciting, like messages from archangels, dragons of light, and emerald transmissions. This type of baiting - joybaiting, I'll call it - is meant to hook you emotionally and make you think that this has to be true because it elicits that oooough, shiny reaction. Next thing you know, you've been joybaited into falling down the conspirituality pipeline and you believe some version of QAnon's conspiracy theories.

This kind of thinking is even dangerous in pagan circles. You find yourself thinking about a thing and noticing a lot? You feel an intense pull to study it? You'll find people out there telling you that you have a spiritual connection to it, like, maybe you were part of it in a past life. And maybe you go and get a past life reading, or even undergo hypnosis. And now you, the whitest gal in the surburb with zero familial connections to any Native people, feel entitled to appropriate some form of Native spirituality because you felt fascination with it, or what you thought it was, and now you're contributing to white sage decimation and spreading around some sort of Native-flavored form of neopaganism as if it's actual Native spirituality.

Or maybe you fall in with a neopagan cult leader who uses your fascination to convince you that you knew each other in a past life, and you were led to them in this life so you could continue some important work in this life, and they pull you completely into their bullshit.

Finally, it's dangerous because it encourages stalkers. A lot of stalkers are people with incredibly powerful fixations on others. These types of beliefs get them convinced that their victims are actually their soulmates or twin flames or whathaveyou, and make them feel justified in engaging in stalking behavior.

All of this is why it's important to recognize that connection is a circumstance, not a feeling. Your feelings are utterly irrelevant to whether you are actually connected. What most people take for "feeling connected" is literally just fascination or fixation, maybe reinforced by the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. Real connection is something you cultivate and build, and it does not exist outside of your actual, physical engagement and participation.

[hees-theman]

BECOMING MRS. SIM

Title: Becoming Mrs. Sim

Pairing: Boss!jake x F!secretaryreader

Genre: Romance, drama, contract-to-real marriage

Summary: To ensure his position in the company, Jake proposed to you in front of his dad. What started of as a fake marriage, slowly turns into real romance with a bit of drama.

Contents warning: Cursing, mention of 'kys', implied sh, may or may not make you puke due to the fluff, suggestive, mention of third party, a tiny bit of angst (like as big as one virus)

Word Count: 16k

A/n: Ngl, this is the first time I wrote so much for a fanfic. Even I was surprised I managed to go passed 10k lmao. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it ^^

Taglist: @sumzysworld @dreamiestay @heeverseblog @originalladymilkshake @bookloversomuch @laurradoesloveu @niniissus

—

"We need to find you a wife." 

There you go - a sentence that Jake has been waiting to hear from his dad. 

Jake was born with a golden spoon in his mouth. Despite being wealthy, he chose to live just like the others. He would prefer to do a lot of things by himself. He finds satisfaction in it. 

Sim family is known to have one of the largest businesses in Asia and the examples for others. So, when Jake has finally reached 'the age', it's natural to expect him to become the next successor. 

Jake has an older brother. However, he chose to venture into different field, leaving Jake as his dad's only hope to take over the company. 

But, in order for his dad to grant the status to Jake, he has to get married. It was his dad's main condition.

His dad had always been living with the principle of behind every successful man, there is his wife. According to his dad, being married motivates him to be better both personally and career-wise so that he can provide more for his wife and his children. 

On the contrary, Jake believes in independency. No, it's not that he hates love or relationship. In fact, he was in a relationship back then. Unfortunately, things happened, and they drifted away from each other. Nobody really knows about it and Jake wished to keep it that way. 

"Is it really necessary, dad," he asked his dad. 

"Of course. Getting married and loving your wife with all your heart will help you in gaining people's trust better - rather than be single. You will appear more... capable and trustworthy." 

"But-" 

Just as Jake was about to say something, his dad cut him off by placing a file on the coffee table between both of them. 

"This is Kim's eldest daughter. I heard that she graduated from fashion designing with good result. Personally, I think that she is a perfect woman to be your wife." 

Jake looks at the file and at his dad with a raised brow. 

"Really? A blind date?" 

Mr. Sim just shrugs his shoulder. "Well, it's not like you will ever introduce anyone to me, right?" 

Jake leans his back against the couch and let out a deep sigh. God, one thing he doesn't like is going on a blind date which is arranged by others without his consent. 

He don't like it when people tell him to do stuff that he doesn't want to do. It makes him feel like he is being force to do things. Last thing he wants is to hurt an innocent woman. 

As Jake is in deep thought, there's a knock coming from outside Mr. Sim's office. 

"Come in," his dad said. 

You turn the knob and enter the room with a tray of coffee cups in your hand. You bow your head slightly at both Jake and Mr. Sim before walking towards the table and place the cups on it. 

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Sim?" 

Jake's dad shakes his head at you. "That's all for now. Thank you, Ms. Y/LN." 

You bow your head for the second time before walking away from both of them. But just as you were about to turn the knob, Jake calls out your name. 

"Ms. Y/LN." 

You turn your head to him. 

"Yes?" 

Jake flashes a small smile to you. 

"Can you come here for a while, please?" 

Your head tilts slightly but still turning your heels around and walk towards Jake. 

"Yes, Mr. Sim. May I help you?" 

A few seconds passed by before Jake looks up at you with a wider smile. He then turns to his dad. 

"Dad, actually, I'm planning to marry Ms. Y/LN." 

"WHAT?!" 

Both you and his dad said in unison. As if on cue, both of you also look at each other with eyes widened. 

"I-" 

"Y/n..." 

Jake cut you off by calling your name softly, making you turn to him with the same widened eyes. 

"I'm sorry I had to propose to you this way when I already had plan to surprised you. I promise I'll make it up to you, okay." 

You and Jake are not really strangers. Both of you went to the same high school back then and reunited when you first entered the company as Mr. Sim's - his dad's - secretary. 

The difference is that both of you barely talk to each other. You only know each other's name, and that's it. So, when Jake suddenly confessed to his dad that he wants to marry you, it makes you dumbstruck. 

"I never knew you and Jake are dating, Ms. Y/LN." 

You turn your head to Mr. Sim and open your mouth to say something. But nothing seems to come out. 

"I asked her to keep it private since it had only been a few months since we got together." 

Jake told another lie. You turn to Jake to say something. But, before you can do anything, he reaches out to hold your hand and flashing a soft smile to you. 

"But every time I'm with her, I felt nothing but love, warmth, and comfort. That's how I know she's the one for me." 

God, if you didn't know any better, you would have said that he's telling the truth. Anyone would coo at how adorable Jake is despite he is telling a lie. That is how good all of this is. 

To tell the truth, you have always found Jake attractive just like other girls. Although both of you have never talk to one another, you did observe him from time to time. 

Just like any other schools, there will always be at least a heartthrob - and Jake happened to be one of it during high school along with his other two friends. 

As much as you would like to mind your own business, you can't help your eyes to look at him from afar. Every time he's around his friends, he will always have that big happy smile that can melt any hearts around him. 

You find it cute and adorable at the same time. But that was it. He was only your eye candy back in high school. 

Yet, here you are, in his car as his out-of-nowhere fiancé. 

After he - somehow - proposed to you in front of his dad, he asked for Mr. Sim's permission to bring you out for the day, saying that he wants to make it up to you. 

Of course, being the loving understanding dad, he allowed it without knowing that it was all just a scam. 

"Where are we going, Mr. Sim?" You asked. 

"Somewhere other than the office." Jake gave a simple answer. 

Just like that, both of you are back in the silence. You turn your head to look out the window as Jake continue to focus on his driving. As much you want to say something, you feel like it's best to give each other some space. 

You don't know how long have passed by but the way the cityscape suddenly changed into beach view proved to you that Jake has brought you somewhere far. Probably an hour or two. 

Jake slows down the speed as the car reaching to its destination. He pulled the hand brake and turn the gear into 'P'. He let out a deep sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt and open the door. 

You watch as Jake exits the car and walk towards the sandy area. After a while, you decide to follow him. You open the door and walk towards the man, standing beside him. 

You were about to speak when suddenly Jake cut you off. 

"I'm sorry." 

You just keep quiet, allowing Jake to continue his words. 

"I'm sorry I pulled you into this mess. I dislike the idea of anyone forcing me to date, let alone get married." 

"Then, why didn't you say so?" 

Jake bites his lower lips. "I can't. I know I'm the only heir that my dad has left. If I didn't take over, God knows what will happen to the company." 

You turn towards Jake. "Then, why me? Am I not being forced to get married with you?" 

Jake's eyes soften at your words. You're right. He did force you to do something you don't want to when he himself hate when someone did that to him.  

What a hypocrite. 

"Y/n. I know we don't really know each other that much. But I need your help. Just this once. After I become the CEO, we will discuss the next step. Is that okay?" 

You look into Jake's eyes. This is the first time in your whole life have you seen him looking so desperate. His demeanour used to be confident. It's almost as if he got everything under control. 

But today, today is different. He looks like someone who is willing to do anything just so he could keep his title. Just the thought of it makes you scoff lightly. 

"Okay, I will help you just this once. You owe me big time, Mr. Sim." 

You held out your hand for Jake to shake. 

"You won't be disappointed, Ms. Y/L/N." 

Flashback: 

Finally, lunch hour, students' favourite time of the day. As usual, Jake would spend his time with his best friends - Jay and Sunghoon. 

"Should we go on a trip during summer?" Sunghoon asked. 

"What about Jeju?" 

"We've been there a lot of times, Jay," Jake said. 

Jay poked his rice using the spoon as a pout formed on his face. 

"But I like it there. The view is beautiful." 

Jake and Sunghoon looked at each other before laughing together. 

"You're so cute when you're sulking," the youngest among them teased. 

As Jay and Sunghoon were having their normal banters, Jake's eyes fell upon a girl. A girl in her ponytail, eating her food with her friends around her. From time to time, she would engage with the conversation as well by joining them or simply laughed at her friend's joke. 

Jake saw her for the first time when he was walking out the infirmary. He was not feeling well that day, so he decided to take a rest.  

Coincidentally, she was walking towards the infirmary as well. She stopped on her track when she saw him. 

"Are you okay," she asked. 

Jake nodded his head at her. "I'm good." 

She smiled softly at him. "That's a relief. Take a break when you need it. Don't push yourself too much. You deserve some break." 

She walked away after conveying her message, leaving Jake at the hallway. 

Ever since then, he would see her almost everywhere at school. Wherever he went to, she would be there as well. It was as if fate was trying to match them together. 

"You're staring again," Jay said as he nudged Jake's shoulder. 

"You should really just talk to her at this point." 

Jake shook his head lightly. "No, I like it like this. It's better like this." 

Sunghoon let out a sigh and Jay shrugged his shoulder before both of them continue eating their foods. 

Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake had always been together ever since they were little. Yet, ever since Jake met her, it was as if a new side of Jake appeared right before their eyes. Surprisingly, it only appeared whenever the girl was around. Whenever you were around. 

Jake claimed that it was him admiring someone. But to Jay and Sunghoon, it was definitely more than that. 

— 

“I never knew this day would come.” 

You just smile at your dad’s words as you continue to eat your food with Jake beside you. 

Two weeks after the so-called-proposal that Jake pulled in front of his dad, both of you decided to visit your parents to lay out the message. Well, technically you told Jake to meet your parents. If they approved of him, then you’re good to go. 

“Thank you, uncle and auntie, for allowing me inside this beautiful house of yours.” 

Your mom let out a soft laugh. “Our house is small compared to yours. It is our honour that you are willing to come to our house instead.” 

True to your mom’s words, you were not born with golden spoon. Compared to Jake’s family, yours are more of in the middle class. Your family didn’t gain as much as Sim’s family, but it's already more than enough. 

“How do you find the foods, Jake?” 

Jake looks up to your mom and flashes her a happy grin.

So cute, just like a kid, you thought to yourself. 

“It’s so delicious. It’s true what they said. No foods can ever be compared to a mother’s cooking.” 

Everyone including you laugh at his words. You missed being in this environment. So warm, so full of love and affections. No, you don’t have bad blood with your family. You were just rarely home due to your work.  

But now that you’re here, you aren’t going to miss a chance to spend more time with your family as much as you can. 

As the night came, your dad and Jake decided to spend their time together at the backyard of your house, giving you a chance to spend time with your mom. 

Your dad sips on the coffee that he made earlier. 

“Why did you choose Y/n?” 

Jake turns his head to look at the elder man beside him. With a small smile on his face, Jake lifts his head to the sky. 

“Y/n is a nice woman. She cares for others a lot. She would do anything to make everyone around her happy. She will give her 100% towards something that matters to her.” 

Jake lets out a soft sigh, almost dreamily. 

“Before I know it, I want to be with her. I want to be there for her. I want to do things for her. I want to care for her. I want to protect her.” 

Jake swallows his saliva, trying to maintain his composure in front of his soon-to-be father-in-law. 

“So, you want to marry my daughter just because she is nice?” 

Your dad’s question makes Jake look at him, who is already looking at Jake. Jake smile to himself before shaking his head. 

“No, I did not ask for her hand simply because she is nice. I want to marry her because she makes me better as a human being. Everything seems smooth every time we are together. Before I know it, I can’t imagine myself with anyone but her. She is the only woman I want to have a future with. No one else, but y/n.” 

Your dad considered his words carefully. He then put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. 

“Y/n… she is our only child. She had always done things by herself. There are times where we would feel worried for her. Well, up until now, we still are. So, when she brought you back home, her mom and I felt better. At least we know that she won’t be alone forever.” 

Jake just smiles at your dad’s words. Oh, how would he feel if he knew our marriage is only for a while, he thought. 

“Thank you, Jake, for looking after our angel. She is everything to us. I hope you feel the same as well.” 

Jake just nods his head at your dad’s words before both of them drink the coffee from their own cup.  

Making you as his everything; will Jake be able to do that? 

 

Flashback: 

Jake had lost count on how many drinks he had tonight. As he tried to reach for another one, Jay hit his hand, making him groaned in pain. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jake? You looked like a mess.” 

Jake just scoffed at Jay’s words. He looked up at his friends and gritted his teeth. 

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t go through what I went through. It hurts. It fucking hurts.” 

Sunghoon sigh for the nth times for the night. Both him and Jay had been trying to understand Jake's situation. But the only thing Jake revealed was that he broke up with his girlfriend. That was it. He didn’t say how nor why. No matter how many times they asked him, he kept his mouth shut. 

“I really love her, guys. I don’t think I can live without her.” 

Jay rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself down from exploding to the drunken man. The words “he’s my friend” keep on chanting in his head. He was about to open his mouth, but Sunghoon cut him off. 

“Die then.” 

Jake looked up at his friend’s words. His eyes widened, surprised at the sudden reaction. 

“The fuck did you just say to me?!” 

Sunghoon shrugged his shoulder. “You said you can’t live without her. So, go on and die. It’s easy.” 

Jake’s eyes that were filled with tears turned into anger. He stood up from his seat and grabbed Sunghoon’s collar, making everyone including Jay surprised. 

“You think you are better than me?!” 

Sunghoon held Jake’s hand with his before smirking at him. 

“I am. I’m not the drunk one here.” 

Jake’s hand turned into a fist. God, he hated Sunghoon at this moment. He fucking hates the guy in front of him. He was about to punch Sunghoon, but Jay managed to stop it by pushing his fist away and broke off his grip from Sunghoon’s collar.��

“Enough! Both of you, out!” 

They stared at each other angrily before walking out of the premise with Jay following behind.  

Minutes have passed since they were sitting outside of a convenience store. Not long after, Jay walked out of the store with canned coffees and a water bottle in his hands. He gave one of the coffees to Sunghoon and the water bottle to Jake. 

The three of them continued to stay in silence before Jake decided to break it first. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t lash out to you.” 

Sunghoon pursued his lips. “I’m sorry too. It was immature of me trying to stir you up.” 

Jay just looked at both of his friends with a smile. This is the friendship that the three always had. Countless of fights, countless of apologies. It’s hard sometimes, but this friendship is important to them, and they knew they need each other. 

“I just… I don’t know if I can love other person the way I love her.” 

Jay reached out to pat his friend’s back. 

“You will bro. You will. Trust me.” 

Jake just nodded his head, too tired to even say anything at this point. All he knew was that he loved his now ex-girlfriend with all his heart. He gave her everything that he could give. Time, presents, everything. 

Yet, it still ended this way. Four years of relationship, ended just like that. Jake really thought that she would be his forever. Well, he thought wrong. Maybe it’s time for him to focus on himself. He had been focusing on others for too long. He deserved his own peaceful time. 

“Ah, right. We heard that y/n got into your dad’s company as his secretary.” 

Sunghoon’s words interrupted Jake from his own thoughts. Jake’s brows frowned at the sudden mention of your name. 

“Yeah, why?” 

Jay who was silent suddenly sat up straight on his chair and looked at Jake. 

“Really?! Y/n is working with your dad? The y/n?” 

Jake nodded his head slowly. 

“Yeah. It’s almost a month now if I’m not mistaken.” 

Jay let out a relief sigh before patting Jake’s shoulder. 

“That’s nice. You get to work with the one you admired before.” 

Right. You were the woman that he admired up until the end of high school. After both of you graduated, you and Jake parted ways, following your own dream. It’s not like both of you had special connections anyway. The interactions that you had with him were not enough for both of you to be considered as a friend. 

But now that Jay and Sunghoon mentioned about it, Jake was reminded of the first day you stepped into the company. 

He would never admit in front of his friends that he actually got excited when he saw you walking into the office. It had been so long since he last saw you. 

You looked more mature than when you were in high school. The outfit that you had on was professional, yet it made you look beautiful. As beautiful as Jake remembered. 

You might slowly lose your teenage features, but you still managed to turn Jake’s head effortlessly – just like when both of you were in high school. 

— 

Three months after the proposal and a day after the wedding ceremony, you found yourself entering an unfamiliar house – Jake’s house. It's official. You are now Mrs. Sim Y/n. 

You look around the living room. You did not expect his house to look neat and cozy at the same time. With all the furniture being white in colour, it made the interior looks more spacious than it already is. 

You never thought of him as a guy who would pay much attention to the interior. He looked like the type of guy that might hire any designer and let them do their magic.  

"Having fun?" 

You whip your head to the voice behind you. There he is, standing in all his glory, your - now - husband. 

"You have good eyes." 

Your compliment makes Jake's lips curl up into a smile. A smile that you used to see since high school. 

"Thanks." 

He walks towards you. Before you could do anything, his hand reaches for yours and he bring it up to his face, enough to look at the ring on your finger. 

He looks at how it sparkles with a small smile before kissing it softly, a small gasp escapes your lips but not enough to reach Jake's ears. 

“Thank you for marrying me, y/n,” he said sincerely. 

Your heart soften at his words. Unconsciously, you rub his hand that is holding yours since earlier. 

“It’s nothing. Besides, it will only be for a while, right?” 

Jake just hums softly at your words. Of course, he didn’t forget about it. Heck, he was the one who came up with all of these. Contract marriage – and it will last up until he got his title as the CEO. 

"Just so you know y/n, although it is only for a while, I will still perform my duty as your husband until the end of it." 

You look into Jake's eyes, trying to see if there is any hidden agenda. But all you can see is honesty and sincerity. 

Jake is known as a man of his words. He is not someone who would turn away from his promise, let alone lying. Heck, he doesn't even know how to lie. 

You've seen his attempts to lie during high school and it always ended with him stuttering and his cheeks slowly turning crimson. His lips jutted out into a cute pout, resembling a puppy sulking. 

Everyone was telling you that ‘you're so lucky to have him as your husband’, not knowing that this marriage has its own expiry date. Sooner or later, both of you will put this into an end. You know that. 

And yet, you can't help but feel a little tug on your heart when Jake said the last few words. 

Refused to let your emotion to get the best of you, you flash him a small smile. 

"I will do my best as Mrs. Sim as well while it last." 

Ever since then, Jake and you have done nothing but keep your words. 

Every morning before going to work, you would prepare him breakfast and eat together with him. Then, both of you would go to the office together. When both of you are done with your job, he would wait for you in the car to go back home together. 

After you’re done with your shower, you would prepare dinner while waiting for Jake to finish washing up. Then, both of you would sit together and have dinner while having a small talk in between. 

During the weekends, Jake will ask you if you have any plans. Sometimes you would tell him that you want to go out, sometimes you just want to stay at home. 

If you chose to go out, he would go with you, spending his time and money for you the entire day. Not gonna lie, you've made countless attempts to pay for yourself. But Jake will always be two steps ahead from you. Guess it's the perks of marrying the Sim Jaeyun.

If you decided to stay at home, he would be there as well. Sometimes he would help you cooking – or more like purposely disturbing you. When you are reading a book, he would join you with cup of teas in hand. 

Before you know it, you and Jake have become closer and more comfortable with each other. What used to be only standing side-by-side turns into walking together while holding hands. During grocery shopping, he would stand behind you and push the trolley together with you in front of him while walking through aisle by aisle. When you are watching a movie in the living room, he would lay his head on your lap and ask for your attention – just like a puppy would. 

Everyone with eyes is envious of your relationship. Both of you totally looks like a happy couple. It’s as if the world belongs to both of you, and only to both of you. 

Honestly, you would say the same thing to yourself as well. Jake had been nothing but a loving caring husband. He takes good care of you, always be there for you. He’s really the man of his words. 

However, there are times where he can be an annoying ass. Such as right now. 

You are putting on your make up to go out with him and he’s just… there, staring at you since God knows when. It was something that he would do every single time you’re getting ready be it to go to the mall or to the office. As you are finishing your touch on your blush, you let out a soft sigh and turn your head to him. 

“Yes, is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Sim?” 

Jake just shakes his head lightly. His lips curl up into a small smirk. 

“Nothing. Just admiring my beautiful wife.” 

There he goes again, teasing you. These past few weeks, he had been calling you names and giving you compliments. And he would say it with affections. Every time he did that, your heart beat for him. 

God, am I in love with this man? 

You roll your eyes, trying to hide the fact that he made you shy. Thanks to your blush as well that he won’t notice that your cheeks turn red because of him. 

“Enough with that, Jake. Let’s go. We’ll be late.” 

Jake bites his lower lips to avoid grinning too widely. Obviously, he knows how he makes you feel. You are not the only one who have been watching him since high school. He also did the same to you. Probably a tad bit more than you did – and you don’t need to know that. 

So, he would know how you look when you’re happy and upset. He knows the difference between your real and fake smile. He knows about it. 

He might not say it out loud but ever since he told you he would do his part as your husband; he didn’t think it will be this far. At first, he thought he would just provide for you and that’s it. 

But he was wrong. The more he spends his time with you, the more he knows the real you. The more he talks to you, the more he craves for your affection. He used to sleep on his side the first few days after marriage. Now, he can’t imagine not having you in his arms at night. He might not even be able to sleep if you were not there for him to hug. 

He knew it would be easy to get married to you. You won’t cause him troubles. You won’t stress him out. You know how to take care of yourself. You know how to do things on your own.

But he didn’t expect that it would be this easy for him to be himself around you. He didn’t know it would be easy for him to accept you into his new life. Most importantly, he didn’t know that he could love again like how he used to. 

Actually, scratch that. He loves you more than he used to love anyone in his life. That speaks volume. If Jay and Sunghoon are here, they would give him the ‘I told you so’ look. 

I love y/n. I really love this woman with all my heart. 

“Y/n?” 

You and Jake were walking with your arm around his when suddenly a voice called out for you. You turn to your back, and your jaw dropped instantly at your sight. Without second thought, you let go of your husband and run towards the person. 

“Sunoo! What are you doing here?” 

You pulled Sunoo into a hug, and he reciprocates by wrapping his arms around your waist. Your husband’s eyes widened at the sight. 

Did she forget she has a husband?! Jake thought to himself. 

You released Sunoo from the hug so that he can reply to you better. 

“I was just walking around. Didn’t expect you to be here as well.” 

You nod your head at him. After a few seconds, you turn to Jake and call him using your hand gesture. 

Jake walks beside you. His eyes shooting hole into Sunoo’s face as his jaw tighten. 

“I know you’ve met him before, but this is Jake, my husband.” 

You introduced the man to Sunoo and lands your head against your husband’s shoulder, completely oblivious at how pissed Jake looked right now. 

Unlike you, Sunoo as a man, can see how jealous the man in front of him is. I mean, which husband won’t be jealous when his wife hugs another guy right in front of his face. Smiling to himself, Sunoo politely held out his hand towards Jake. 

“Hey, we met at the wedding but I’m Sunoo, y/n’s friend.” 

Jake didn’t say anything but shakes Sunoo’s hand, for the sake of you. He pulls his hand away almost instantly, making the other man’s lips curl into a small smirk. 

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds behind. Don’t want to interrupt the date. See you when I see you, y/n.” 

Sunoo pats your arm and give Jake a courtesy nod before walking away, leaving you together with your husband. 

You were about to say something when Jake beat you to it. 

“Is it fun being friendly with another guy in front of your husband��s face?” 

You blink your eyes at the sudden burst of jealousy from Jake. You study his face properly. His cheeks are red as a result of him trying to hold back his anger. His lips forming a pout, the same one that you’ve witnessed since high school. 

Jake looks so adorable right now that he makes you snort lightly. 

“Oh? Is my husband jealous?” 

Jake squints his eyes at you before turning his head away. 

“Any husband would hate to see his wife being all over a guy other than him.” 

He is jealous, you thought to yourself. You were about to console him, but before you could say anything, Jake decided to walk ahead of you, purposely leaving you as a sign of protest. 

His action makes you scoff. Despite his height being taller than you and not to mention his status higher than you, he still acts like a kid. You shake your head before chasing after him. 

“Where are you going~” you asked him teasingly. 

“Away from you.” 

You let out a soft ‘ooh’ before continuing to chase after him. When you are within the reach, you hold his hand, stopping him from his track. Although his body is facing you, his head is still facing the other side. 

You bring his hand to your lips and leave a soft kiss against his knuckle. You can feel him stiffen at your sudden action, but he still refuses to face you. You let out a soft sigh before your lips curl up into a smile. 

It’s usually the husband you have to persuade his wife, but now, it’s the other way around – and you are not complaining about it. 

“You don’t have to worry about it, Jake. I’m not his type.” 

Your words manage to make Jake faces you. His brows that were frowning earlier become deeper as he heard your sentences. 

“Why? You are beautiful. You are nice. Anyone would want you. How can you not be his ideal type? Does he think that he’s better than y-” 

Jake’s mouth was stopped by your finger against it. If only he’s not upset with you, he might as well kiss it. But his ego got the best of him, so he just stands there silently. 

“It’s not like that. What I mean to say is… women are not his type.” 

Your husband nods his head when you explain- 

“Wait. So, Sunoo is…” 

He doesn’t need to complete his sentence when you’re already nodding your head, knowing what he was about to ask. Unconsciously, Jake let out a loud sigh of relief. He thought that someone was about to sweep you off your feet.  

Well, even if Sunoo did, he knows he will make sure to bring you back into his arms one way or another. 

Jake looks at you who is now smiling innocently at him. 

Fuck, how can she look so adorable. 

Refused to back down, he clears his throat and pinch your nose lightly, making sure it won’t hurt you. You scrunch your nose at him. You were about to pinch his cheek as a revenge, but he managed to stop your hand. 

He then leans his face close to yours. 

“But I still don’t like how you left and hug him in front of me. Don’t do that again, alright.” 

Your lips form a pout, but you nod obediently at his words. Of course, you should know that no matter how close you are with your guy friends, you must remember that you have a husband to take care of. 

“Okay. I’m sorry for leaving you and hug him like that.” 

Jake’s lips curl up into a smile, hearing your apologies. He takes your hand that was in his earlier and kiss it lovingly. Your eyes turn to the other side, an attempt to hide away your shyness. Jake just chuckles lightly at your actions before planting another kiss on top of your head. 

“Shall we get going now?” 

— 

Two months later, you and Jake are attending the company’s annual gala night. However, this gala night is special because it is also the night that Mr. Sim, your father-in-law, will pass down the responsibilities as CEO to his son. 

Although you are excited for Jake, you can’t seem to throw away the thoughts that your marriage will come to an end. Yes, both you and Jake are happy with each other. Happier than you had been in your life. But it still doesn’t change the fact that he got married to you just so he could gain the title as his dad’s successor. 

A tap on your shoulder wakes you up from your thoughts. You look to your side, just to see your husband tilting his head slightly. 

“What is this? Are you thinking about other man than me?” 

He squints his eyes at you like how he would usually do. You hiss at him and hit his shoulder lightly. 

“Why should I think about other people, when my husband is with me?” 

You wrap your arm around his as your other hand rub against the spot that you hit earlier gently. Jake smiles softly at you before pecking your forehead softly, making sure not to ruin your make up and hairdo. 

You and Jake continue to greet the guests. From time to time, you would join in their conversation but mostly you let Jake do the talking. 

Suddenly, the hall light shuts down and a spotlight shine at the centre of the stage. There, stand Mr. Sim on the podium, getting ready to deliver his speech. Everyone’s attention diverts to the man. 

He clears his throat and run his eyes across the hall. 

“Good evening to everyone. I would like to thank all of you for your time tonight. I believe we already know the purpose of tonight considering that we did this every year.” 

Everyone including you laugh at Mr. Sim’s greetings. 

“As mentioned, we held the gala night annually without fail. Personally, it’s a way for me to appreciate everyone’s effort in making this business grow bigger each year.” 

The hall is filled with claps. 

“But tonight is different than before. Unlike the previous gala night, we are not only here to have fun. It is also the night where I will make an important announcement that will change the company into a better one.” 

You look to your side, just to see that Jake is fidgeting and gulping nervously. You smile to yourself before leaning to his ear. 

“You will be fine, Jake. I’m here with you.” 

Jake turns to look at you, who is already smiling at him. Just like that, he can feel his anxiousness slowly tone down. It’s funny how before this Jake is so opposed to getting married just for the title. 

Now, he understands why his dad said what he said to him before. True to his words, behind every successful man, there’s his wife. Jake never thought that he will see the day where there’s a woman behind him. 

But with you supporting him directly, he believes that he can go through all the challenges and difficulties that he will face in the future. No matter how hard it is, he’s willing to go through it as long as you are with him.  

Just like that, from this moment, Jake vow to himself that he will never, ever, let you go. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. Without further ado, I present to you, the Sim’s new successor, Sim Jaeyun.” 

The sound of claps filled the hall once again for the night. A spotlight pointed to Jake. He looks around the hall with a proud smile and bow his head politely. Before he walks up the stage, he turns towards you and hold your hands. Without second thought, he brings your hands and place a long kiss against it, making everyone looks at both of you with awe. 

You nudge your hand lightly against his lips, making him look up at your crimson red face. 

“Faster go,” you mouthed at him. He grins widely at you and flash you a wink before letting go of your hands and walks up onto the stage. 

You just watch the view in front of you with a proud smile. Your husband is hugging your father-in-law so tightly. He is so proud of his own son, just like how he is proud with Jake’s older brother when he saw how successful he had become. 

“Congratulations Mrs. Sim for your achievement.” 

A voice said beside you, making your head turn to the owner. Turns out the owner of the voice belongs to Sunghoon as he stands next to you. 

“You must be so proud of him.” 

Another voice said on your other side, and you know it belongs to Jay. You just shake your head lightly at both of their remarks. 

“Of course I’m proud of him. But I didn’t do anything for you to congratulate me.” 

Jay looks at you for a short while before turning back to the stage. Both of his hands are in his pocket as he watches Jake giving his thank you speech. 

“No, you deserve the wish as well. In fact, we must thank you for everything that you’ve done for Jake.” 

You frown slightly at Jay’s words. You don’t quite understand what he meant by that. But, as you were about to ask, Sunghoon cut you off. 

“Yeah, he’s a better man now, because of you.” 

Despite your confusion, both of the men’s words still manage to soften your heart. Before you know it, tears escaped your cheeks. That was the nicest thing someone has ever tell you. You didn’t know that you needed until tonight. 

Being recognized by Jake’s best friend just hit a certain spot in you. You made a mental note to ask about it later. But for now, you decide to focus on the man’s speech. 

“… And to my wife, know that I will not be able to do this without you. You have been nothing but my strength and my support. You were there through ups and downs. I thank you so much. You are my woman and will always be my woman.” 

Everyone howls at Jake’s words and the two men besides you whistle proudly. You just shake your head while letting out a chuckle and clap your hands. Jake is so silly. Your husband is so silly – and you will never ask for anything better than this. 

After the end of the speech, you and Jake continue to talk to the guests with his arm circling around your waist the entire time. They all congratulate both of you for Jake’s achievements in becoming the new CEO. It is safe to say that the night went smoothly. 

But nothing in this world is perfect, right? 

“Congratulations, Jake.” 

There, standing in front of you, a beautiful, mesmerizing woman in a gorgeous emerald green dress. She looks so breathtakingly beautiful to the point that your jaw drops slightly at her presence. 

Unlike you, Jake’s smile falls upon seeing her. He clenches his jaw and tighten his grips against your waist. He forgot that her parents were invited to the gala by his dad. So naturally, she would be here as well. 

“Thanks, Yunjin.” 

The woman’s smile widens at the way Jake called her name. Her eyes then shift to you, who is still lost in her beauty. Yunjin let out a chuckle. 

“Hi, my name is Yunjin, Jake’s friend.” 

Bullshit, he thought. 

You blink your eyes for a few seconds, trying to wake up from your own daze. 

“Ah, I see. I’m y/n, Jake’s wife. He never mentions that he has such a beautiful friend as you.” 

Yunjin looks at Jake for a few moments before letting out another chuckle. Her cheeks are now a bit red from your compliment. 

Her laugh also sounds beautiful like her, you thought to yourself. 

“Please don't say that. You are more beautiful, y/n. Besides, it’s been so long since we last met each other as well,” she said before her eyes fall upon Jake once again for the night, just to see that Jake is already looking at her. 

Your eyes turn to look at Jake and Yunjin back and forth. Jake is staring at her with an expression that you don’t quite understand, while Yunjin is looking at him softly, exactly like a woman missing her partner. 

That’s when it clicked in your head. You’ve heard that Jake had a girlfriend the first day you joined the company. If your guess is right, Yunjin is his ex-girlfriend. Saying that she is just a friend is a way of her being considerate of your feelings. 

You don’t know what happened, but deep inside, you know that there are some unfinished businesses. You felt it through the tension that is slowly building up between them. Not even the sharpest knife can cut through it. 

Before you know it, your gaze drops to the floor. Clearly, you are upset with the situation. But who are you to say anything. They had their own past. It was all just an old story. It was his past. 

That’s what you keep telling yourself. 

“Well, I better get going. You guys must have a lot of things to do.” 

Yunjin’s words manage to pull you into reality. 

“See you around, y/n.” 

You try your best to smile sincerely, doing your best to show that none of these are affecting you. 

“See you around, Yunjin.” 

With the same previous smile on her face, she nods her head at you before once again turning to face Jake. 

“Jake.” 

She called out his name, but the only thing he did was nods his head towards her as his eyes turns somewhere else, refusing to meet her eyes. 

Yunjin then walks away from you. You didn’t know how long it had been but the sigh that you let out indicating that you’ve been holding your breath for quite a while now. Your heart beats so loud as if it’s about to jump out of your body. 

You swallow your saliva to calm yourself down before excusing yourself from your husband, saying that you need to go to the washroom. 

Just like that, Jake is left alone in the middle of the hall. He frowns at the situation. Fuck, he said to himself. He should have handled it better. 

Jake knows that you are upset. Going to the washroom was just a way for you to walk away from the previous commotion. As if meeting his ex-girlfriend is not the worse part of the night, his best friend came to him, probably to lecture him. 

“What happened, Jake,” the older one asked. 

Jake bites his lower lips. 

“She came and greet us…” 

“And?” Sunghoon encouraged Jake to continue his words. 

“And I didn’t know how to react to it. I thought that if I said something, I might… I might…” 

I might lose control and y/n might hate me for it, Jake continued inside his mind. 

Jay drapes his arm around Jake’s shoulder, pulling him into a side hug in hopes it can at least comfort him after what just happened. 

The guys know that it’s not easy for Jake to communicate with his ex, considering that they had a good time together just for it to end all of a sudden. But they can’t also invalid your feelings.

As a wife, they knew you must have figured out that they had something going on back then. It’s understandable that you would be upset over it even though it already ended long time ago. 

“I don’t know what’s going on between you and Yunjin, but I want you to remember that you have y/n now. One thing I can see from her is that she’s loyal and sincere. She’s a woman, your wife. Whatever you want to do, consider her feelings as well.” 

Jake nods his head at Sunghoon’s words. He inhales deeply and exhale, trying to calm himself down. He puffs out his cheeks as he collects his inner thoughts. 

“Do you think I can be a good husband to y/n?” 

Jay and Sunghoon steal a glance to each other before their lips curl up into a smirk. 

“It’s up to you, man. But I think you have always been waiting for her. Ever since high school, you’ve wait for her. Now that she’s in front of you, why not grab your chance?” 

Jake looks up at Jay as the older one encouraged him to move forward. Jay nods his head at Jake. 

“And a little birdie told me that she is also waiting for you at the balcony just outside of the hall,” Sunghoon said as he pointed the place with his face to Jake. 

Jake scoffs at himself. He can’t believe he is down bad for you. The fact that his best friends had been his witnesses made him feel even more dumb than he already is. He then pulls both Jay and Sunghoon into a hug. 

They hug the man back and their hug last for quite a while. It was at this moment that reminds Jake once again just how important Sunghoon and Jay are in his life. His ride or die. The one who would be there to give him facts, no matter how hurtful it is. The one who would give motivations for him whenever he needs it. And he would gladly do the same to them as well. 

Jake let go of his friends. With a deep breath, he walks towards the balcony where you are leaning against railing. 

Although your back is facing him, he can’t deny the fact that you look glowing in your white dress. The way your head tilted slightly to the sky, allowing the moon to shine its light to you. You look better than his dreams. 

With careful steps, he walks towards you. 

“What are you thinking, princess?” 

You turn your head slightly at the voice, before facing forwards again. 

“Nothing important.” 

“Then, why do you look like a damsel in distress, my lady?” 

The closeness of his voice startled you. You didn’t realize when it happened, but his arms are already on your side, trapping you against the balcony. Slowly, you turn your back towards him. Your eyes move from down and up to his face. 

You’ve always thought Jake as a handsome man. But right now, he looks even better than before. His face is so close that you can see the length of his eyelashes. His nose that would occasionally bump into your head and cheeks as he leaves pecks here and there. His lips… the same lips that would kiss you everywhere but your lips. 

The last time you felt it against yours was when you were pronounced as husband and wife. It was a short one, but you can still feel it tingling against yours. You would do anything just to feel that lips once again. 

However, you know you can’t. Not when he was about to divorce you right here, right now. Mustering your courage, you look into his eyes. Although your tears are threatening to escape, you’re trying your best to hold it in by burying your nails into your hand. 

“Jake, congratulations. You’re finally where you want to be now. You’ve been working so hard to prove that you’re worth it. Now, you got it.” 

Jake’s eyes soften at your words and his grip weakens. You sniff before continuing your words. 

“Thank you for being a husband for me. A real one at that. I didn’t know anyone would do anything for me aside from my parents. There is not a single moment where I regret having you as my husband. Thank you for everything that you did for me. I will cherish all the memories until the end of my life.” 

As you finished your sentence, the tears that you’ve been holding back finally roll down your cheeks. You have said everything that you want to say. Whatever happens after this, you will accept it with all your heart. When Jake decides to stop everything with you, you will have to be ready to let him go.

Jake’s hands move up to cup your face. You close your eyes at what about to happen. 

Do it. I’ll be fine. I can take it. 

You can feel his thumbs brushes your tears away, but then you feel his lips against your forehead. You open your eyes and look up at him, just to see him looking at you with a loving smile. His tears run down his cheeks, mirroring yours. Jake takes a deep breath. He then looks at you again with the same smile. 

“Let’s end this.” 

He said it. He finally said it. The words that you were waiting to hear from him. He said it. You thought that you could handle it, but your reaction proves you wrong. 

You burst into crying in his hands. Every emotion that you’ve been holding back are showing itself. You are not okay. You will never be okay. Call you selfish, but you want to be with him always and forever. You need Jake, even if he didn’t need you. 

Or so you thought. 

“Let’s stop pretending, and love each other for real.” 

His words managed to make you look at him with your eyes widened. The expression of your face clearly shows Jake that it was not what you expected to hear tonight. You thought that he would divorce you. After he got the position as CEO, he would put this to an end. That’s how it should be. 

You try to breath properly. Looking at how difficult it is for you to calm down, he moves one of his hands and rubs your back while his other hand caressing your cheeks softly. Jake inhale and exhale along with you, in hopes for you to follow his breathing pattern. 

When you’ve finally calm down, you blink your tears away from your eyes, trying to see Jake in a clear view. 

“But you told me that you would end this marriage after you get the title.” 

Jake looks at you for a few seconds before letting out a soft laugh. He didn’t miss the pout that is forming on your face, making you look like a little girl crying for her lollipop. He shakes his head. 

“I may have implied that, and I’m so sorry.” 

Your eyes never leave Jake as you wait for him to continue his words. 

“I thought that whatever we had between us will merely be another fleeting moment. But the more I’m with you, the greedier I became. What started of as pretending, I want it to be real. All of the moments that I had with you was everything I could imagine. Hell, it was better than my imaginations. You made it so easy to be with you. To cherish you. To care for you. Before I knew it, I want you all to myself.” 

Jake’s arm that was on your back quickly circles your waist, pulling you close to his body. Slowly, he leans to your face, just enough for his lips to brush against yours. 

“You are my lady. You are my woman. You are my wife. You are mine, and I’m not letting you go, ever.” 

You gasp at his words. You can’t think straight after what you just heard. Who knows a guy like Jake can also be this romantic towards someone. Even more towards you. You, who just happened to study in the same school and work in the same place as he is. There are thousands of women he could go for, and yet he chose to settle down with you. At this point, you can die happily.  

“So, what do you say, Mrs. Sim? Are you in for it, or you want to run away? But just so you know, I will chase you to the end of the world if you choose the latter.” 

Your eyes search for his, just to see that he’s already gazing at you with sincerity, passion, and a hint of something you’ve never seen before. The guy that you’ve been watching and only watching are in front of you with his arm clinging onto your waist protectively. 

You know that if you try to say anything, your voice will betray you. So, you opt for the easier choice – nodding your head, indicating that you’re saying yes to him. 

The corner of Jake’s lips curls up into a small smirk before he claims your lips with his. After holding back for so long, he finally has you in his arms as his one and only. Good things always come to those who wait. Jake might have to study more about the philosophies considering that it had been proven real to him. 

The kiss that both of you shares are filled with a lot of passion and affections. All the restrains that you and Jake put onto yourself are now broken. His hands are now rubbing on your side as he turns his head to the other side, deepening the kiss. You let Jake lead the kiss as you circle your arms around his neck to prevent you from falling. 

You are not surprised that his kiss will make you weak at your knees. You have always known he would be a good kisser. But you didn’t expect that he will kiss you as if his life depends on it. 

A moan escapes from you when Jake purposely bites your lower lips. Both of you pull away slightly to take a breath. Looking at Jake’s expression, you finally understand the meaning behind his gaze earlier. 

As for Jake, he is staring at you. You look more beautiful than you already are with your lips slightly swollen because of him – and he takes pride in it. He was planning to tease you when he bit you earlier. He didn’t know that you would make a sound that could awakened something in him. He knew that he won’t be able to take it if he didn’t control himself, so he put your kiss into a halt. 

Jake brushes his nose gently against yours, making you look up to him. His hand moves up to caress your cheek once again. 

“All the time spent of me looking at you from afar back in school, I knew it’s going to be worth it.” 

Your cheeks turn bright red at his words, but it didn’t fail to make you frown in confusion. 

“Looking at me? You were looking at me the whole time?! I thought I was the one doing that to you?” 

Jake chuckles at your words before placing a soft peck against your nose. 

“You weren’t the only one who have great eyes.” 

He winks at you, making you laugh along with him. You didn’t know that he was doing the same thing that you did to him. Maybe you are fated for him, just like he thought when he met you for the first time. 

“I love you, Mrs. Sim Y/n.” 

“I love you too, Mr. Sim Jaeyun.” 

Both of you stay in silent, just admiring each other before Jake decided to break it. 

“So, shall we go and continue this somewhere else? I don’t think I can hold myself longer.” 

Your jaw dropped at his words before hitting his chest. He winces in pain and rubs the spot before turning to you and steals a kiss on your lips. He then picks you up bridal style and bring you back home, where you will be spending time with him all night long, skin-to-skin. 

— 

It had been months since Jake was announced as the new CEO of the infamous Sim’s company. The business starts to grow even more. A lot of international clients are interested to work alongside with Jake. He is compatible, responsible, and most importantly, he knows what he wants, and he knows he will get it. 

But of course, you were there with him the whole time. Ever since you and Jake confessed to each other, both of you are becoming more and more clingy and loving towards each other. Nevertheless, you know the difference between professionalism and personal, considering that you are now working as your husband’s secretary. 

You tried to deny his offer a lot of times before, saying that it will be a talk of the office if she becomes his secretary. But knowing Jake, he wants to make sure that you are with him all the time. Well, he wishes for you to be with him every time. 

Until he has a business trip to attend to. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to follow me? You can rest there,” Jake tried to persuade you for the nth times to follow him to the trip. His lips keep on placing kisses to yours with his arms around your waist, an attempt to melt your down. 

“But you will be working, my love. I don’t want to go anywhere without you. It will feel incomplete without you by my side.” 

Jake groans softly at your words, but he can’t deny it as well. You are telling the truth. He will be working all day and will only come back at night. If he were at your shoes, he would refuse to go as well. What’s the point of going on a trip with your spouse if you can’t spend time together properly. 

But it doesn’t change the fact that Jake is still sad, thinking about not having you with him for three days straight. Naturally, a pout forms on his face, showing that he’s still upset. 

You let out a soft sigh as you look at your husband. You then stand on your toe and kiss his pout away. 

“Let’s put it this way – the sooner you take off, the sooner you will be back with me. Does that sound better to you?” 

Jake just nods his head obediently, once again resembling a puppy. He then pulls you into a tight hug. 

“I love you, Mrs. Sim. Remember that, okay?” 

The corner of your lips curls up into a smile as your rub your husband’s back up and down. 

“I love you too, Mr. Sim. Always and forever.” 

Both of you let go of each other, yet your hands are still intertwined with one another. The sight makes you chuckle a bit. 

“You need to go. Don’t want you to miss the flight.” 

Jake nods his head once again. After leaving kisses on your head, down to your forehead, eyes, nose and lips, he finally walks into the gate, waving his hand at you. You wave back to him with a reassuring smile on your face. 

Once he is gone from your sight, you start to miss his presence. This is the first time you had to separate with him ever since your marriage. He was always there with you, whether to comfort you, love you, or even annoy the hell out of you. 

But as his wife, you know he needs your full support for him to move forward and bringing you along with him on this journey. You need to be in your optimum energy to help him achieve his dreams. 

That is why you are currently in the bakery nearby your house. You can’t be energetic if you are hungry. You were scanning through all of the options when someone called your name from behind. 

“Y/n?” 

You turn to the owner of the voice, just to see Yunjin, looking effortlessly beautiful like she always does. 

“I never thought I would bump into you here. Are you alone?” 

Her question bothers you a bit, not going to lie. But you remind yourself that it was all in the past. Jake is yours, and only yours. 

With a genuine smile, you look up at her. “Yeah. Jake is on a trip for a few days. I’m just running a quick errand.” 

Yunjin nods her head at you. Her eyes soften at the sight of you. 

“Jake is so lucky to have a wife like you. So beautiful yet so diligent.” 

You look down at Yunjin’s sudden compliments. Your cheeks are slowly turning into crimson red. It makes it impossible for Yunjin not to find you adorable. 

“Ah, how about we hang out whenever we have time. Here’s my number.” 

Yunjin holds out her business card. You look at it. Huh Yunjin, the owner of YJ Fashion House. You knew Yunjin is an amazing woman, and her status just increase her level in your head. You take the card and keep it safely in your bag. 

“Sure. Thank you for the offer Yunjin.” 

She just nods her head to you. As you were about to bid her goodbye, she put you into a halt. 

“Oh also, can we take a picture together? I’ve been dying to have one with you ever since we met that day.” 

Your eyes twinkles at the thought of a brilliant woman such as Yunjin, wanting to take pictures with you, who are just merely a secretary to your husband. You then nod your head at her, giving her your approval. 

She grins widely, showing how happy she is. Using her phone, she flips the camera so that you and Yunjin can take a few selfies. 

“I will send the pictures to you later. It was nice meeting you again, y/n.” 

“It was nice meeting you as well, Yunjin.” 

Just like that, both of you part your ways to your own destinations, not knowing that a storm will be coming your way soon. 

— 

After three full days of dealing with works, Jake finally returns to your arms during the weekends. At first, Jake insists to bring you out. But you don’t want him to force himself as he needs rest. 

So, during the weekends, you decided to just stay inside and pamper Jake to the fullest. Of course, being the clingy needy husband he is, he don't mind it at all. For two days straight you pay attention to him and only him, and he did the same to you. 

No talking about work. Just small talks from time to time. Most of the time though you spend your time with Jake snuggling and cuddling you. You love the fact that he is not afraid to show his vulnerable side to you. He may look like he got it together in front of people, but with you, he’s still a kid stuck in a grown-up body. 

But of course, that doesn’t last longer. There are times when he wants more than just be close to you – and he did just that. You don’t know how you can handle it considering that his drives are quite high.

Just like that, the weekends passed by quickly and you are back to being his secretary once again. As usual, you would inform his schedule and relay messages that you received on behalf of Jake while he was away. The files that are in need of his actions had been laid out neatly on his table. 

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Sim?” You asked after you’ve finished conveying everything that he needs to know. 

Jake hums softly. “Can you tell Mrs. Sim that she looks ravishing today?” 

You roll your eyes at his remarks as he flashes an innocent smile at you. 

“I will let her know, Mr. Sim. If there’s nothing, I will make my way.” 

You bow your head respectfully before sending him a playful wink and walk out of his office.  

Jake being Jake decides to follow you – specifically your butt – with his eyes until you are out of his sight. This have happened countless times before. If he ignores the professionalism between both of you, he knows he would have you in his office any time he wanted. 

Without wasting any more time, Jake’s hands move across the files and papers on his tray. He lets out a soft sigh looking at the amount of works that he needs to review. Well, he did ask for it so he can’t say anything about it. 

But what really catches his attention is a brown envelope, sealed perfectly. The only thing written on the envelope is Jake’s name. He takes the envelope and turn it. There, he could see the word ‘private and confidential’. 

He tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t recall any agreements that he needs to sign that is confidential. With a shrug of his shoulder, he unseals the envelope. He inserts his hand into it and take out what seems to be pictures. 

His curiosity changed into anger as fast as lightning at the view in front of him. His eyes are brimming with tears, threaten to fall. With shaking hands, he pressed the intercom and called you into his office. 

He doesn’t sound good. You’ve known him long enough to know that he is upset just by his voice through the speaker. Without a second thought, you knock on his door and enter his office when he approves of you. 

You look at his state with a frown. His face is hidden behind his arms that was connected as he clasps his hand together. If you could make a guess, you would say that he looks miserable. You were about to ask him, but he decided to speak up first. 

“What were you doing when I wasn’t around?” 

Your frown grows deeper at his question. 

“I was at the office in the morning and went back home in the evening. I didn’t go anywhere except for grocery stores to buy a few stuffs for our home.” 

Jake scoffs at your last two words. Our home. 

“Our home, where you were fucking someone else in our bed?” 

Your jaws dropped at his words. This is unfair. Did he really think that low of you? That you would simply having fun with other guys when he’s not around? This is ridiculous. 

One thing you can’t stand is when people falsely blaming you on something that you didn’t do. Slowly, you can feel yourself getting fired up. 

"You, out of people, accused me of cheating on you?" 

Jake lifts his head up to look at you. His eyes are red from all the crying that he did before you stepped into the office. 

"Well, explain these then?" 

Jake threw the pictures in his hands on the table. You bend down to get a better view of it. In those pictures, it was you and a man, tangled to one another in various positions. 

Your eyes widened at the images in front of you. You knew it wasn't you. Although it was your face in there, but you didn't do all of that. You would never betray the trust of the man in front of you. You didn’t even think of betraying him in the first place. 

But how, how can the woman in the picture looks a lot like you, when you know you have never slept with any man other than him. 

"I don't know about this Jake, but I swear I have never done all of these. Please, believe me." 

Your eyes are glistening with tears as you look at him, begging for him to trust you. 

But you know it was no use. The way he looks at you is no longer like how he used to. It was filled with love and affection ever since the day both of you said, 'I do'.  

Now, it was as if whatever he felt for you has vanished. The only emotion that he could feel is numbness and emptiness. He thought that you would be different than others. Turns out you're just the same. 

You're just another woman, staying by his side just for the benefits. 

Without saying anything, Jake grabs his blazer and walks out of the office, leaving you standing in the room, crying your heart out. 

This isn't what you imagined how it's going to be. You thought everything would be fine the moment Jake kissed you that day. That you would finally experience your first and true love. 

You didn't expect for all of these to happen. Your mind suddenly drifts off to the night of the gala. Were you and Jake not supposed to have your happy ending? If only one of you end this marriage like how it should, would any of this still happened? 

Right, this all happened because of you. You selfishly want to be in this marriage despite knowing that it has to come to an end. You have no one to blame but yourself. 

You thought that you finally had him for yourself. The man that you have always been attracted to. The man that never fails to make your heart feels full. You were stupid enough to believe that. 

As you are left alone in the office, you thought to yourself, ‘I should’ve let my fairytale remain as a fairytale'. 

— 

“Huh, it’s surprising to see that you are not drunk. Guess you really changed.” 

Jay’s disclaimer receives a glare from Jake. His expression clearly shows that he is not in the mood for jokes or anything stupid. 

“And what do you mean by that?” 

“When you broke up last time, you almost got into a fight with me,” Sunghoon answered on behalf of Jay. 

Jake turns to Sunghoon before letting out a scoff. 

“In my defence, you started it.” 

Sunghoon raise one of his brows. He decides to ignore the remarks to avoid any arguments... again. He raises his glass to his lips and drink from it. 

“So, what is it this time?” 

Jake sigh at Jay’s question. He contemplates whether to tell his friends the truth or not. His friends on the other hand, knows him too well. 

Despite getting hurt or betrayed, Jake had always been selective in giving out details about his personal life. For him, it’s supposed to be kept in minimal. Whatever happened inside the house, stays inside the house. 

As much as his friends respect him for that, sometimes they wish that Jake could open up just a bit, so that they can help him in any way they feel necessary. 

“Let’s just say that our marriage is getting too... crowded.” 

Jay and Sunghoon look at each other. It wasn’t that direct, but it’s not indirect either. Everyone has their own interpretation. In this case, Jake seems to imply that there is a third party involved in their relationship. 

However, Jay and Sunghoon found it hard to believe because you don’t look like someone who would go out there and cheat on a man that truly love you for who you are. But then, they might be wrong as well. 

“Are you sure y/n would do that to you?” 

Jake shrugs his shoulders at Jake’s question. He lifts his glass to his lips and gulp down the remaining liquid. 

“As much as I would like to deny it, I’m not sure if I can do that with the evidence that I have.” 

Sunghoon nods his head in understanding manner. He then pats Jake’s shoulder and flash him a small smile. 

“You do what you got to do man. We’ll be here for you, always.” 

Jake replies Sunghoon with a smile. He’s truly blessed for having such understanding best friends. He might not be lucky in love, but he knows he won lottery with friendship. So, it’s okay. 

He’s going to be okay. 

He’s going to be okay. 

I'm going to be okay. 

When Jake enters the dark room, suddenly everything feels empty. It feels like his life is crumbling down again. The thought that he kept repeating like a mantra before vanished just like that. 

He knows he can’t possibly go back home. Not with his current state. He needs to get away from all of these. He wants to forget about everything. 

Unconsciously, he walks towards his office desk. The pictures were still scattered like how he left them earlier. The pictures are enough to ignite his anger. He has never felt so deeply disappointed in someone before. 

He thought that he knows you enough to not be suspicious of you. But he never knew that you’re just another wolf in sheep’s skin. 

Jake picks up one of the pictures. If only he could get hold onto the man in the picture, he knew he would beat him up until no one could recognize him ever again. 

Maybe he should’ve ended their relationship according to the original plan. Jake sighs to himself. He has no one to blame but himself. He trusts you too easily. In the end, he is the one who got fooled. 

He examines the picture one last time for the night as he’s thinking of a solution to all of this. 

When he finally found an answer, the corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. Bingo. 

— 

Hundreds of calls, thousands of messages, and you still haven’t heard anything from Jake. 

You know that he needs some time to calm down. Yet you can’t help but to feel worried for him. The least you want to know is where would he spend the night and if he’s eaten anything. 

But there is nothing you can do. You must let him be for the night. To be fair, no one would be okay if out of nowhere there’s a picture of your partner being intimate with another person – let alone tons of pictures of it. 

Your tears had dried down from all the crying that you did earlier. As soon as Jake stormed out of the office, you made the decision to empty out his schedule for the day, claiming that he was on sick leave. 

As for you, you requested to take a week leave and informed Mr. Sim – your father-in-law – about it. You didn’t say for what but by the look on your face, he could guess there is something going on between you and Jake. 

“Things are bound to happen. Take a break. I promise you it will be fine. Sooner or later, it will get better.” 

You smile at his words. You are not sure if you and Jake will ever be fine after the incident but at least your father-in-law's words managed to bring up your spirit. 

As much as you are still upset about everything, you want to get everything right. You will make it right again. 

You are sitting on the couch in the living room with a picture in your hand. You managed to steal one of it from the pile in Jake’s office earlier. 

Biting your lower lips, you lift the picture to your face so you can see it more clearly. That’s when you notice something different about the picture. 

Without second thought, you grab your phone and dial a number. After a few rings, the receiver picks up the phone. 

“Hey, can we meet up tomorrow?” 

— 

“So, what do you think?” 

Sunoo hums to himself and look at you. He hands the picture that you gave earlier. 

“You’re right. It’s edited. Most probably AI.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. 

“AI?” 

“Artificial Intelligence. It was programmed to help human in various ways – workforce, study, music – you name it.” 

You nod your head before a frown form on your face. 

“But what does that have to do with my case?” 

Sunoo smirks to himself. He pulls out his phone and type something on his phone before showing you a picture. You take his phone and identify it. You don’t know why but the picture looks very familiar to you. It was as if you have been there. 

That’s when it clicks in your head. You look at the person’s face closer and you see that the person resembles Sunoo but he’s wearing the outfit that you used to wear back in college. 

“Isn’t this my picture? Why does this look like you?” 

Sunoo smiles at your reaction. 

“That’s also an AI. I just chose a picture of my face and replaced it with yours. It didn’t copy my face 100% but the resemblance is there.” 

His smile fades away as he leans forward to you. 

“The same thing with your case. Whoever edited it must have your picture as well. Yes, AI can be helpful to us. But some people use it for other purposes – framing, blackmailing, humiliation. At the end of the day, it depends on the person’s intention.” 

You think to yourself, trying to figure out the possible suspect. As far as you know, none of the people in your circle is suspicious considering. There’s only Sunoo, few of your college friends, and- 

Your eyes widen at the realization. You look up at Sunoo. 

“It couldn’t be…” 

— 

“Jake!” 

Jake turns his head towards the owner of the voice. There, stand his ex-girlfriend, looking like how she normally would. 

“It’s been a long time since we last talk to each other, right,” she said before inviting herself to sit across him. 

Jake didn’t do anything except following her movements with his eyes.  

“So, what’s the sudden occasion? I thought you blocked me already.” 

He let out a soft chuckle at Yunjin’s remarks before shaking his head and flashing her a small smile. 

“Nothing. Just thought that it would be nice to meet you again.” 

Yunjin bites her lower lips, holding back herself from smiling too widely at the possibility of Jake missing her like how she missed him. 

“Don’t say it like that. If your wife heard you, she would think that we had something going on.” 

Jake’s face fell at the mention of his wife, and Yunjin didn’t miss that. Her expression changed to worry when she saw Jake frowns his brows. 

“Hey, did anything happen?” 

Jake swallows his saliva, a bit too loud for her liking. He then shakes his head, trying to not make Yunjin ask further questions about it. 

She sighs softly at Jake. He’s always so nice. Yunjin was used to this side of Jake. Just like his friends, she too knows that Jake isn’t someone who would simply talk about his life to anyone. 

But looking at his state now, Yunjin wishes nothing but for Jake to at least share a bit of the burden with her. She wishes that she can take care of him, like how she used to back then. 

Yunjin reaches her hand to Jake’s on the table, making the guy lifts his face to look at her. She flashes him a soft smile as she caresses his hand. 

“Don’t worry. I’m here for you, Jake. You don’t have to be strong all the time.” 

Jake looks down at her hand. Without thinking, he holds her hand and bring it close to his face. 

Yunjin was stunned at the sudden gesture. She could feel his breath against her skin. Oh, how she missed it. She missed Jake so much. She missed being loved by him. She missed loving him as well. If only he knows that she would do anything to have him back. 

“I thought you don’t like tattoo.” 

Jake’s remarks pull Yunjin out from her daydream. Her eyes then fall onto her inner forefinger where she planted her tattoo. Her lips curl into a soft smile. 

“I got it after we broke up. I was devastated so I did it.” 

Jake nods his head and flashes her a smile before his eyes fall back onto the tattoo. 

Both of them stay in silent, with Jake still gazing at her tattoo. She thought that it was cute how Jake never seems to take his eyes from it. Not to mention her pride when he notices the small details about her – just like when they used to be together before. 

Before Yunjin could stop herself, she confessed to Jake. 

“I miss you, Jake. I always have.” 

— 

It was raining heavily outside. Today, marks the third day of Jake not coming back home. You’ve tried to reach him, but it seems like he has blocked you. 

You asked Jay and Sunghoon about Jake, yet the only thing that they could say was to give him space and time. Speaking of loyal friends, huh. 

You miss Jake a lot. You miss Jake so much to the point that you still cooked for him, even though the chance of him coming back home to you is thin. Aside from meeting Sunoo, you didn’t go anywhere else. 

You only wait for Jake, day and night, without fail. You didn’t bother to sleep in the bedroom anymore. You just stay in the living room, wanting to greet him whenever he chooses to come back home. 

Turns out, your effort does not go in vain. 

As the clock strikes 12 midnight, Jake opens the door and enter the house. He takes off his shoes and put it in the cupboard. 

“Welcome home, Jake.” 

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he chooses to ignore you and walk up the stairs. You stand up from the couch and call his name, stopping him on his track. 

“Where were you?” 

He stays silence. 

“Have you eaten?” 

Again, nothing. 

“Did you meet Yunjin-“ 

“It’s none of your business.” 

You look at Jake, whose back is facing you before letting out a scoff. Of course, he will only talk to you if you mention her name. The name that he can’t seem to let go. The name that used to be his sweetheart for four years. 

Betrayal and hurt dominates your heart. The softness in you is now gone. You did not just wait in the house, waiting for him to come just to find out that he’s out there with his ex-girlfriend. 

“I knew it. You can’t forget about her, right? After all these years, she’s still the one in your mind.” 

Your eyes slowly tear up. 

“I’m just the replacement. A woman you used to climb up to your title.” 

That’s not it. 

“A woman that you can use as your trophy.” 

That’s not true. 

“A woman that you will throw away once you’re done using her to fulfil your needs-” 

“Enough!” 

You gasp at the sudden scream from Jake. The head that were facing the opposite side is now looking straight at you. His hands form into fist, with his thumbs hiding against his palms. His lips tremble from the anger that build up in him. 

It was wrong. It was all wrong. Whatever you said about yourself, it was wrong. Jake has never seen you as trophy. He never wants to take advantage of your kindness. He loved you with all his heart and soul. 

The worst part is, he still does. 

“Jake…” 

Jake’s face softens at the sound of your voice calling his name for the second time tonight. He missed it. He missed you. A lot. He wants to be with you again like how it used to be. He wants to get pampered by you. He wants to give you all the loves and affections that you deserve. 

But he can’t because he promised himself he will end it tomorrow. 

“Do you still love her?” 

His breath hitched at your question. His eyes move to look at you, just to see that your eyes are red from all the crying that you did for the past few days. The thought of you crying for him while he wasn’t around makes him sick. 

He can’t help but blame himself for putting you in such situation. You didn’t deserve all of these. You deserve to be with a man that can make you happy and showers you with all the things the world could offer. 

Not with a guy like him who will only make you sad and cry all the time. You shouldn’t be here. He didn’t deserve you at all. 

Without any words, Jake turns his head back to the stairs. He continues to walk up the stairs and into the bedroom, leaving you standing in the living room with tears falling down your cheeks. 

As soon as you hear the door closes, you fall on your knees to the floor. You’re tired. You’ve reached your limit. You don’t think you can keep up with this any longer. 

Jake doesn’t care about you anymore. You’ve been worried sick about him. He didn’t come back home. He didn’t go to office either. Sunghoon and Jay also said that they didn’t know where he is. 

But he doesn’t care. After all these times, the only thing that he spoke to you was in the form of anger. 

You feel pity for yourself. You’re worthless. You can feel your body slowly fall on the ground, and you just let it happen.  

Right at that moment, your eyes fall upon the ring at your hand. The sparkles are still there, as if it’s still new. 

Will it still look the same if it was on her hand, or will it look better? 

As your eyes close for the night, you thought to yourself, I will end it tomorrow. 

It will end tomorrow. 

— 

“Did I make you wait too long?” 

Yunjin was drinking from her cup before you appear in front of her. She put down her drink and shakes her head with a smile on her face. 

“No, I don’t mind. I understand you must have business to attend to.” 

Despite looking all innocent, you can sense the sarcasm behind her voice. Your eyebrows lift slightly in amusement. 

Huh, so this is the real Yunjin. 

You sit across Yunjin as she picks up her cup and drink from it again. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” 

You pursue your lips at her. You think to yourself to decide the method that you want to go for. 

After a few seconds, your hands move to unzip your bag to take out a picture of ‘you’ and the unknown man. Without hesitation, you place the picture on the table and slide it to her. 

“I will cut to the chaste. That woman… it’s you. Am I right?” 

Yunjin takes the picture in her hand before letting out a historical laugh, enough to get everyone’s attention. 

Humiliation. That is how Yunjin wants to play. 

“Are you blind? It’s your face in the picture. Not mine.” 

You can hear people starts murmuring about the scene that is about to unfold in front of them. But you pay them no attention. You are determined to end everything today. Right here, right now. 

“The face does belong to me. But not the body.” 

Yunjin’s eyes twitch at your counter. You tilt your head to the side, studying her reaction. 

“Look at it properly. That tattoo on the inner side of the finger; it matches yours, right?” 

Her face fell when you mention about it. Yunjin bring the picture closer to her and scan the picture. That’s when she saw the tattoo. 

How could she forget to remove it before printing it? How could she be so careless? The fact that you even know the tattoo belongs to her… How can it be possible? You’ve only met her twice. That’s not enough for anyone to actually notice something as small as this. 

“I’ve always been good in observing people. It doesn’t take me long to notice your tattoo considering that it’s on the same hand that you shook mine with back at the gala night.” 

Yunjin feels like a huge rock has hit her head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! 

The whispers around you increase more and more as time passed by. 

I can’t believe someone as beautiful as her can be so ugly deep inside. 

So pathetic. Slept with a guy and blame others for it. 

She’s nothing but a whore. 

Yunjin’s lips tremble at the words thrown to her. This is not how she planned it to be. She wants to humiliate you, but it went to her instead. It doesn’t make sense. If only you didn’t marry Jake, none of this would happen and she would still be with him by his side. 

She is supposed to hold the title of Mrs. Sim. She is much more worthy as his wife. But it all went down because of you. 

However, she didn’t plan to give up. At least not today. 

Yunjin gathers her composure before leaning her back against her chair. 

“You could’ve purposely placed the tattoo in the picture. Isn’t it easier that way?” 

With only those sentence, the people’s opinion suddenly changed. 

Why can’t she leave the woman alone? 

She must be hungry for attention. That’s why she purposely blames the other woman. 

A woman who betrays its own kind should not be labelled as a woman at all. 

The corner of Yunjin’s lips curl up into a smirk. People are easily manipulated. All you need to do is to say a few things and they will instantly believe you whether it’s real or fake. 

She has won. The victory is hers. 

Unfortunately for her, the success doesn’t last long. You knew she would say that which is why you’ve been keeping another strong evidence to prove that it’s not you in the picture. 

As you reach inside your bag, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You look up at the owner of the hand. Your eyes widened at the sight of Jake. 

You didn’t expect him to be here - so does Yunjin. He is not supposed to know you’re here. What is he even doing here? Did he make another appointment with Yunjin? 

“You want another proof that it’s not her? Here, I bring the real guy from the picture.” 

Jake said to Yunjin before moving to the side slightly, revealing a man named K standing behind him. Her eyes instantly widened at the sight of him. The exact same guy that she paid to frame you. The exact same guy that she slept with, just for the sake of destroying your marriage with Jake. 

Yunjin shakes his head to herself. 

“No. I don't know this guy. I didn’t do anything.” 

“You slept with me, and you said you didn’t do it? Did you forgot that I also have the original picture?” 

Yunjin’s eyes move to K, and she stood up from the chair. 

“I paid you to keep quiet!” 

K scoffs at her. 

“No. You paid me to sleep with you. That’s it.” 

Yunjin bites her lips before letting out a frustrated groan. She turns to Jake and tries to grab his hands, but Jake avoided her advanced towards him. 

“Jake, I have a reason. I did all of this for you. I love you, Jake. I love you so much.” 

You don’t like the view in front of you. As a woman, you feel pitiful towards Yunjin. One would never think a beauty such as herself would go low just for the sake of love. Refusing to witness how pathetic Yunjin is, you hug yourself and look to your side. 

Jake on the other hand can read your body language. He knows you want to run away from the commotion. As your husband, he wants nothing more than fulfilling your wish and needs. So, he must end it now. 

“Do you know why I broke up with you, Yunjin?” 

Jake’s question makes Yunjin frown in confusion. Jake clears his throat, and his lips form a straight line. 

“That day, I just got back from studying. When I walked into our room, I saw you sleeping soundly, with another guy next to you. I don’t need to know that you both are naked under the blanket considering that clothes were scattered on the floor. You claimed that you love me, but you still had the guts to cheat on me. That’s why I broke up with you...” 

Jake turns to look at you for a few seconds before facing Yunjin once again. 

“... That’s why I will never ever be with you.” 

At that, Jake pulls you up and circles his arm around your waist, before bringing you out of the place, leaving Yunjin faced the humiliation that she created. 

— 

As soon as you enter the house, Jake closes the door behind you and bring you to sit down in the living room. He then excuses himself to the kitchen to get two glasses of water. He brings the waters to the living room and put it on the table before sitting down next to you. 

Both of you stay in silence for a while. You puff your cheeks before grabbing the glass and drink the water. 

“How did you know I was there?” 

Jake clears his throat. Now, it’s his turn to drink the water before answering your question. 

“I... followed you?” 

You turn to face Jake, blinking your eyes at his words. 

“Really? You followed me? Since when?” 

Jake rubs the back of his neck and flashes you a sheepish smile. 

“Well, that day when I stormed off from office, I came back later that night. When I wanted to throw away the pictures, I felt something was off. That’s when I realized that the face does resembles you, but not totally you. Not to mention the hint of tattoo on the finger...” 

His hands move to hold your hand gently. He brings up your hand to his face before smiling to himself. 

“...I’ve kissed this same hand countless times to know that you’ve never had tattoo, my love.” 

All emotions come at you at the same time when he called you, my love. Tears brimming at your eyes as you suddenly recalled those nights without Jake in your arms. The way he raised his voice for the first time at you are still fresh in your mind, considering it just happened yesterday. 

“You hurt me, Jake. You hurt me so much.” 

Jake looks at your teary eyes before leaning his forehead against yours, making you burst into tears as soon as it touches. He had always known that you are a soft person, and you prove him right. 

He knows that he has hurt you so bad. Although it was only a few days, the pain in your heart will still need time to heal. He won’t blame you for hating him or anything. He deserves it. 

“I know baby, I know. I left you alone, crying to yourself for days. I am a bad husband, and I am sorry for the way I behave. I should’ve believed you because you are my wife. My wife will never cheat on me, and I should know better.” 

You just nod your head, agreeing to his words as tears still flowing down your cheeks. 

Jake’s hands move up to caress your arms to your shoulder and up to your face. His thumbs wipe away your tears, even though a lot are still threatening to fall. 

“Please, forgive me. You can take as much time as you need, but please, don’t leave me, y/n. I want no one but you to be my wife. You are the only one for me. No one can change that.” 

You open your eyes to look at Jake, just to find out that he is quietly sobbing. You can’t believe that there will be a day where Jake would cry in front of you. It just shows that he truly cares for you and whatever he said earlier is nothing but the truth. 

Although a part of you is still upset with him, you can’t deny that your heart yearns to love and be loved by him. Just like him, you can’t imagine any other man as your lover, let alone your husband. You want him, and only him. 

Your hand reaches up to cup his face, his eyes are now looking into yours. You could feel his breath against your skin, and that’s enough to tell you that he’s in front of you. 

Without wasting time, you lean to Jake, pressing your lips against his, in which he responds with open heart. Both of you could taste each other’s tears, but you don’t care. 

You and Jake have been spending time away from each other for too long ever since you got married to him. All the pent-up emotion and frustration can be felt with the way you and Jake can’t seem to let go of one another. 

Suddenly, everything feels right all over again. The pieces that were scattered are now together once again. Your life had always been normal. But somehow, being together with Jake makes your life more colourful than it already is. 

Deep in the heart, you and Jake promise to not leave one another anymore for both of you can’t live without each other. Jake needs you as much as you need Jake. No one in the world can ever change that. 

As you are lost in Jake’s arms, you thank the universe for shaping you into Jake’s one and only, Mrs. Sim, forever. 

[lustlovehart]

Reversed

Pairings: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Rollo x Reader

Reverse Monster!Twst where instead of you being the hunter who hunts down those vermin, it’s them hunting you down, the most notorious beast famed for taking down whole citities with just a look (though, this is just rumors as no evidence with solid proof has proven this a fact).

They’re so sure they can do it, maybe with a great effort, but they have no doubt they’ll at least give you a challenge.

But then, they finally meet you and their former view completely shifts.

Riddle, is at an impasse. He’s conflicted with himself, on one hand he’s appraised as the sternest Monster Hunter there is, even following rules that make his job harder than need be. But, when he looks at you, his want for law following skews itself. Even as he brings his blade down to behead you, a split second hesitation gives way for you to escape his clutches.

When he finally clears his mind, he strives to hunt you down, you’ll just repay all the grievances you caused through punishment—! Who’s he kidding, he can’t lie…

He’s doing this not because the rules say so, but because he wants to. Whether through blood or air, he will see you again.

Leona… Thinks it’s inconvenient. He sets out on the mission with the “just another annoyance” mindset, ready to swiftly claw you down a step so he can go back to napping around the city. When the time comes, he’s a bit annoyed he can’t do it. He’s not sure what it is, maybe the way you look at him when you’re on the ground, whether pitiful or snarling. This was meant to be a simple job, kill and then swiftly take his leave, now he’s considering whether he should throw you over his shoulder or tie you up and drag you home.

The decision is finally made when you’re gone from his hold. He groans at himself for something so amateur, but realizes, he hasn’t taken a mission seriously for a while. Maybe it’s finally time for him to catch a worthy meal.

Crowley won’t know though, this prey, is for him and him only.

Azul views it as a simple means to gain popularity. Killing the most wanted beast available would surely boost him up the chart, he could even replace Crowley as NRF’s head. The moment he can finally do what he has been waiting years to do… he'd very much rather bunch you up in his arms and start an entirely different business branch.

When you’re down, the way you sneer at him and tell about his pathetically cowardice plan somehow reminds him of himself. He’s reminded of how weak he started before growing in power.

When you back away from his reach, only further growling at the human before you, he bunches your clawed hands in his placing a chaste kiss on your thick skin. He already knew what would happen as the moment he looked back up, the beast he gave such a vulnerable act to, was gone.

He tuts at himself, but quickly re-plans, he’ll just have to find a more efficient way of holding you down.

Kalim, is happy! He’s a soft hunter, he essentially hunts them down by giving them a stern talking about the goodness of the world, even giving them a good start in life! They get away believing they’ve achieved freedom only to be murdered in cold blood by Jamil, who was stalling in the formers shadow.

When they finally meet you, this dynamic changes. Kalims practically overcome by joy at the sight of you, caging your hand in his as he excitedly rants to you about the future you’ll have with him! … With him? It seems… Kalim doesn’t believe in free beginnings in your case, when he accidentally releases you back into the world, he’s determined, for the first time, to truly hunt down a monster and trap them.

Little does he know, the real snake, is ready to sink his fangs into you, not willing to share a single piece of his reward

Vil unfortunately believes, you’re the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on. Like everyone else, he went into the assignment with the belief he’ll be taking down an insidious ugly monster. It’s dark when he finally brings his weapon down on you, only narrowly missing when the light perfectly hits your face and accentuates your features to him.

Why are you beautiful?

He stops dead in his tracks, only further freezing up when you slowly resume your full height, you face inching closer to his as your eyes examine him, the moment he blinks is when you’re gone. Perhaps he should’ve let his eyes run dry if it meant you stayed here longer.

When he lays in bed, it feels like every time he closes his eyes you’re in the shadows, watching him. He doesn’t feel fear at this thought, if anything, he jumps up ready to take you away.

Ever since, he can’t seem to stop thinking about the beast so fair, he must know… why it is he finds you so beautiful.

Perhaps, he’ll just need to study such a beauty up close and personal.

Idia wants to hole himself away, but at the same time needs to see every part of you. He’s practically hidden behind the sword he has pointed at you, the iron trembling as you watch him emerge from his sleeve. He’s been obsessed with this moment for so long, to finally become the hero of the world after slaying the beast that torments innocent citizens!

But… is he sure he even wants to do that anymore..? He can feel the plotline change when he considers drifting apart from the cliche.

What if he like… falls in love with the evil monster instead..? Why’s he lying that’s exactly what’s happening…! After fixating on such a key moment, it’s like all his attention was on you as a living being, rather than the mission anymore…!

He has numerous pins and photos of you attached to his wall, each displaying your victims, towns you’ve raided, and even just photos of you standing there.

This might be the only thing he won’t shy away from in fear. Like the rest of them, Idia is just as determined to achieve the goal of catching you, maybe even more so with how much he needs to prove to people.

Malleus, finds you a curiosity. To think, despite his nature, you’ve caught the attention of one of the most renowned hunters. Even when his bare hands pin you to the ground below him, his body being used as a weight to trap you between him and the grass, he can’t help but wish to lean even closer.

He essentially, feels the urge to consume every piece of knowledge there is to know about you, he wants to know, every piece of data books have failed to recollect on you.

He has never felt such a strong desire like this, he’s smart in all fields, even powerful enough to do jobs weaponless, yet you’re the only thing he seems to consistently want to swallow.

When your form fades away, his hands grip onto the space you once occupied, desperately trying to cling to the vespers of you. He must better himself, on his need for you.

Rollo thinks you’re horrifically heinous. How… How dare you impede his mind with your impure presence. Out of everyone, even Riddle, his strive to put a stake through your heart is heavier than ever, why must such prudences exist in this land? If they hadn’t, living would be peacful.

Which is the exist opposite of his life right now. At every turn of a city corner has gone to such a delusion he imagines random people in the street to be you. His current turmoil is between existential longing and pure hatred.

You... You of the most immoral species possible, why is it you his heart has decided to beat faster and faster with every passing moment? You must’ve cursed him, yes that’s it... He must purify the filth you’ve instilled in him.

By taking you as the cure.

A/n: Rollo Flamme, from doting househusband coworker who toes the line of regular best friend and boyfriend, to loathing mortal enemy who hunts you down to pay for the fact you’re in his mind 24/7 because he simply can’t accept that he’s fallen deep in love with the pretty monster in the shadows.

May I offer up, Monster Hunter meeting with all of the factions telling their reports of their mission, collectively saying their lies in unison, that they killed you. Now they’re all giving each other the stink eye cuz “no tf you didn’t???”, meanwhile you’re in their weapons closet trying desperately to not get caught with the lowrank hunter you were feeding on. You could easily take five of them down, but twenty three highly trained hunters? You’d practically be dead—

Your hopes go unanswered as shadows loom of you with the most horrifying expressions on their face. (Little do you know it’s not because of you but because they’re a little jealous some random got to have you bite them).

Thank you for my presentation that had randomly struck me doing a road trip, on the bright side, Heartslaybul is half way finished??? Kinda??

[ynbabe]

We don’t hate each other ୨୧ Arthur x fem! reader

Y/n was Ollie's oldest friend, growing up with him as he raced his way up to formula one, somewhere in between she found Arthur Leclerc, found him a massive fucking pain in the ass that is until something changes when Ollie debuts in Carlos Sainz Ferrari.

A always, comments and requests are always welcome! lemme know what y'all think of this!

Warnings: curses, lime

y/nl/n

y/nl/n GET THIS MAN IN A FERRARI ASAP 💪 💪 💪 😮‍💨

Username they're relationship is so important to me actually

username arent they just friends?? username girl you believe that? LOOK AT THEM THEY'RE LITERALLY MARRIED username theyre 18 go touch grass pls 😭

username GET THAT MAN IN A FERRARI!!!

Username shes so real for that bow, ollies so cute 🥹

olliebearman thank you for the very serious pictures of me, a very serious, very profession man

y/nl/n "very serious, very professional man"🤓 shut up you literally cried in my arms when you got called olliebearman i'm telling my pr officer to block you username did what in whose arms now?? username oooh so hes in love love

arthurleclerc Way to go Ols!

y/nl/n gtfo my post arthurleclerc gtfo off my fyp y/nl/n block me bitch arthurleclerc too much effort, cry olliebearman guys you're in public 😭

username whats with Arthur and Y/N? 😅

Username they're competing for Ollies love Username bro you wrong for that 😂

arthurleclerc

arthurleclerc to MY bestfriend, congratulations on making it to Ferrari and f1! You deserve the best! Hope my brother treated you well.

username SHOTS!! HAVE!! BEEN!! FIRED!!

Username he know he wrong for that first photo

Username okay wait. How do both Leclerc have a Wattpad ass gay romance is it genetic??

Username bro all capped the my 😭

username mans petty as hell

username @/y/nl/n me personally, I wouldn't take that

username hes stealing your man girl go get him!!

oliiebearman Thank you Arthur! Yes he did!

arthurleclerc ur welcome ols ❤️ username @/y/nl/n were waiting for you boo username its the red heart for me Username Charles come get your brother!!! he's cosplaying you and max on main again

y/nl/n Congrats Ollie!! love you 🥰 (Not gonna make this abt myself like some other girls)

arthurleclerc revoking ur paddock pass btw 🥰 Olliebearman ... I'm blocking you both 🥰

username mans done with them 😂

You rolled your eyes as you saw Arthur's comment on yours, how could he be so childish. Forget it, you reminded yourself, today is for Ollie and Ollie only.

You waited in Ollie's driver room till he was done with the debrief, you'd go out to celebrate with him and his family later. His trainer had given him a pass on the diet, after all, scoring points in F1 was no joke.

You jumped off the chair you were lounging in, ready to hug the man as you heard the door open but to your disappointment, it was only Arthur.

You groaned as you saw the boy and he scowled in return. You never knew how your rivalry began. One moment you were visiting Ollie for the first time at Prema and the next you were in a screaming match with a Monagasuque man with the cutest accent.

"What are you doing?" He asked, rather, demanded.

"Waiting for my friend," you replied with the same annoyance in your voice, "What are you doing here?" you accused, stepping towards him.

He pulled a face, closing the gap, "Here to support my friend, you know cause we can actually stand each other,"

"Hah, sure, at least I'm not jealous of my friends, you know cause they actually make it into f1," you shrugged, knowing it was a low blow.

His face morphed into anger as he pushed closer towards you, "You need to shut up," he spoke in a low voice, you'd be scared of the taller, much stronger boy if you weren't doused in anger yourself.

"Make me then," why did you say that- Oh shit.

Your eyes widened as he kissed you, making both of you stumble back and fall on Ollie's driver room bed. You groaned as your back hit the mattress, the older boy breaking the kiss, looking down at you in concern.

"O-oh, my god! Y/n I'm so sorry, I don't know wh-" he began rambling but you couldn't let him win, could you? So you kissed him back, letting your hands run through his hair.

He led one hand to your waist, letting it fall under your shirt, he hissed at the warmth your skin radiated under his palms.

"Oh my god, OH MY GOD," Someone yelled, making Arthur push off the bed, and fall on the floor.

"Ollie this isn't what it looks like," he explained from the floor making you frown.

"It isn't?" you asked making him turn to you.

"No, it is," he explained to you, then turned to shocked Ollie in the doorway, "I mean- it is," he tried to explain.

Ollie paused for a moment, "On my bed, really?" he replied, disgust in his voice.

You picked up the pillow on his now messed up bed, throwing it at his head, "Shut up,"

He laughed as he ducked, "Hey, at least none of us had to intervene," he confessed making you and the boy who was now getting up off the floor groan in defeat.

olliebearman

olliebearman never make out in my room again, I beg you

Y/nl/n sorry I stole your boyfriend, Ols

arthurleclerc you are still the love of my life, y/n's just a friend olliebearman DO NOT START THIS AGAIN

Username HUH?

username chat is this real rn? username fr thought they hated each other username bro said he was going to get his Wattpad enemies to lovers one way or the other

username Charles Leclerc it's your turn now.

charlesleclerc So all the ranting actually led to something?

y/nl/n he talks about me?? arthurleclerc NO I DIDN'T! Charles shut up or I'll tag someone you rant about. Charleslecler y/n changed you i dont like this relationship anymore username WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? Username First we get Arthur x y/n and now we are getting Charles read like filth 😭

trying something new, thoughts?

[yyokkki]

The Prefect's Laugh

Dropping this monstrosity i wrote in September 2023 because I feel like I'm never going to leave this fandom.

First Years x gn! Prefect

Warning: I haven't played chapter 7, Prefect has a distinct personality so it doesn't really count as x reader but some people could find them relatable, a jumble of canon and non-canon events, mild cursing?

Divider by @saradika

It wasn’t that the Prefect never smiled. In fact, they may have smiled a little too often. It could be as simple as a wordless greeting or as complex as a way to cope with fear, but there was one particular expression the first years saw only once in a blue moon. The smile that comes alongside a fit of laughter.

The first time Ace saw the infamous Ramshackle Prefect smile like that was not too long after they had first met. It was a day or two after Heartslabyul’s housewarden overblotted and they’d finally gotten the rose garden in order.

While chatting about that day’s happenings, a rather embarrassing detail was brought up (embarrassing to Ace at least).

“Can we, like, NOT talk about this anymore??”

“I mean, the housewarden was really going in on you and you just stood there and took it but as soon as he said those things about the Prefect’s parents you didn’t even hold back. It’s weirdly sweet of him, right?”

Deuce looked towards the Prefect for their input to which they replied by fervently nodding their head.

“Wow, who could’ve guessed that maybe THE Ace Trappola cares about his friends??”

“…Honestly would’ve believed you more if you said you did it just to prove you could.”

“Pfft-“

Ace’s head whipped to the side, and he stared at the blooming smile on the Prefect’s face. Crinkled eyes, a hand in front of their mouth and slightly flushed cheeks as they tried to hold in their chuckles.

He wanted to make a snarky comment, something like, ‘I’ve been trying to make you laugh for the past two weeks and THIS Is what makes you break?’

Instead, what came out of his mouth was… Silence.

Maybe the new expression was too shocking as he just stared, five parts confusion, three parts embarrassment, two parts bashfulness. The most he could get out of them even with the most well-crafted jokes were slight smirks and yet something Deuce said without even intending to be funny made them crack.

He felt wronged.

And flustered.

…Shit, why are they kinda cute.

Going back to before the overblot, a day that Deuce personally considers more traumatising than his own housewarden’s mental breakdown.

Sorrowfully gazing upon the carnage of eggshells, whites and yolks jumbled up in the plastic bag branded with the words, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop, Deuce gave out another wistful sigh.

“I just hope those chicks can rest in peace.”

“…You know those eggs don't hatch into chickens, right?”

Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stunned, stupefied, bowled-over; all words that could be used to describe Deuce Spade’s current state of mind.

“Wh- WHAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING.”

While Deuce was having an epiphany about the eggshell-shocking revelation, he noticed the Prefect’s slightly hunched over back and trembling frame. He was about to go comfort them when he saw their face…

And heard their laughter, ringing out like the sound of wind chimes swaying with the summer breeze, despite it being mid-September.

“YOU’RE LAUGHING???”

He looked at them with five parts feelings of betrayal, three parts despair and two parts anger. He was so offended that he immediately stormed off with the grocery bags in hand, huffing and puffing as he went on his unmerry way.

It wasn’t until later that the Prefect started feeling guilty about their reaction to the incident. It kind of felt like telling a little kid Santa wasn’t real…

They apologised, got him a book about the evolution of egg production, hugged it out and all was forgiven.

It wasn’t until much much later that Deuce Spade realised, he had only seen the Prefect laugh a handful of times, that incident taking up one of the spaces.

It had grown to become one of his favourite sounds in the world.

Jack Howl was never one for bad jokes or witty banter. Whenever he and the Prefect stood together, besides looking like a sturdy tree next to a swaying flower, they didn’t look friendly- much less like friends.

Only the two of them understood the solidarity that came with the silence. They were each others go-to when the other first years got too rowdy.

Truly the mom and dad of the group.

They would occasionally engage in conversation. Somehow when they were together, asking about each other’s day would lead to which parts of home they missed most now that they were away or embarrassing childhood memories, they hadn’t told anyone else about.

It was on a day like any other, a long while after the deep sea overblot.

Jack and the Prefect had finally started speaking to each other comfortably, yet most of their time together was spent just existing in the same room, doing their own thing.

It wasn’t awkward, at least not to the Prefect. But they had to ask just in case.

“Hey, do you ever feel like we don’t really talk when we hang out?”

“…Well, we are at the library.”

“I mean at other places too.”

Jack looked up from his notes, glancing at the Prefect with a little apprehension tracing his features.

“Why? You find it weird?”

“No, I like it a lot, just- I’m not used to it you know? Whether it’s the friends I’ve made here or my friends from back home they’ve never been the type to let the room stay quiet for over five seconds.”

They shifted slightly to cast an inquisitive glance over at him, “I can’t tell if you mind or not.”

Against his very own will, Jack’s tail started flowing slightly. So, they like being around him?

“I feel the same as you. I like our time together.”

Realising he sounded a little too soft, he immediately started backpedalling.

“Not that that means anything. I enjoy spending time with many people, doesn’t make you special.”

After finishing his piece, Jack looked back down at his notes, playing it cool. His tail, however, betrayed his feelings.

"Pfhaha, so cute, it’s like a helicopter-“

“…”

Not knowing how to defend himself, Jack got up to sit across the Ramshackle Prefect, blocking their view of his tail but giving him the perfect angle to catch all their expressions.

…It may be a little too late for him.

It all started with a godforsaken game of PG rated chicken.

Epel Felmier didn’t know whose dumb idea it was to hold a competition like this among all the first years but damn was he killin’ it.

It was almost too easy. It made him feel conflicted. Should he be happy that he’d somehow reached the finals? Or mad that it’s all cause of his face and build?? Either way, the prize was too good to pass up so he was gonna win.

So far he’d been flyin’ through with direct eye contact and a smile or two if his opponents were tougher but the final round had been filling him with a weird sense of dread, so he decided to prepare a little somethin’ special this time.

He doubted he’d have to use it though; he didn’t think very highly of the kids at NRC in this specific department…

That being until he got a text from the organiser telling him who his opponent was, that being: the Ramshackle Prefect.

Well shit.

He knew they never judged anybody, including him, for their appearance, and he’d always appreciated them for that. But in this context, it would make ‘em a tough nut to crack.

Not even mentioning, they knew his weakness when he didn’t have theirs.

He immediately pulled down their chat and started typing ferociously.

‘you. me. ramshackle lounge. after school. please?’ And send.

Might as well get a practise round in to scope the waters.

Luckily, the Prefect considered him a friend and wasn’t overly cautious, so not long after the text was sent an ‘ok’ was promptly sent back.

As soon as school let out, Epel ran into the Prefect in the mirror chamber, and they embarked towards Ramshackle dorm together.

He’d informed them of his intentions while on the way, so they got started after arriving.

First, he tried his usual techniques despite knowing they wouldn’t work. As expected, the Prefect didn’t so much as flinch.

Then they smiled warmly at him.

“Your training has been working out really well, I can see a little more definition on your arms. How do you even do it? What you lack in a natural constitution is already being made up for by your will and perseverence! It's really rare to find people like you out there.”

Shit, a genuine compliment about his mental and physical growth! That’s critical damage, how could they be so dirty, using his weakness against him?

Well, if that’s how they’re gonna play it.

Epel held up his two hands in front of him, forming a heart with his fingers.

The Prefect looked unfazed. They just smiled at him, mockingly (Epel’s perception).

Fine. He’s been left with no choice but to pull out his secret weapon.

“I-If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEAPPLE!” Absolutely humiliating.

But also absolutely effective.

The Prefect’s mask started cracking at its seams.

“F-fineapple? I never thought I'd ever hear you say anything like that- Pfft hehe-“

He'd won, but his face was as red as his namesake as the visage of his Prefect’s tinted cheeks and choked back giggles entered his heart.

On the day of the competition, he lost miserably. The Prefect ended up passing the prize onto him, claiming they were only participating for fun, but he wasn’t really upset.

It’s for the best that no one else sees that face anyways.

Sebek Zigvolt’s sole purpose for living is to serve his young master as a reliable retainer.

In order to be reliable, he must excel in both academics and athletics. Athletics weren’t worth mentioning and he found all academic subjects easy enough.

All except for art, that is.

Making use of a medium to place your creative vision onto a surface sounded simple, yet the product had never lived up to his expectations, creating a habit of casting fire spells to burn the causes of his shame.

After yet another round of sweeping up the ashes of a canvas, he’d decided enough was enough. As unbecoming as it was, a good retainer would ask for help when he really needed it.

And he really really needed it.

His next course of action was to head over to the staff room and inquire with the Art professor for private lessons, only to be told that she had no empty slots in her schedule.

“If you don’t mind learning from another student, I recommend asking the Ramshackle Prefect to tutor you. They’re one of the best among their peers and I’ve seen them offering help to other students during my classes so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

That magicless human? He’d only ever spoken two or three sentences to them, and he couldn’t stand the uncouth beast following them around every hour of the day, but if they truly were one of the best…

Thus started a deal he would come to regret in the future.

The Prefect wasn’t a bad teacher. They’d gotten him to start on the basics before even thinking of the elaborate portraits he’d always been hellbent on doing.

Once he’d finally grasped the techniques needed, he immediately jumped onto the opportunity to paint his young master, using one of his sacred wallet sized photos as reference. The Prefect stood beside him the whole time, pointing out mistakes and fixing any parts he deemed unsatisfactory.

The only qualm he had was that they’d protested to his idea to paint a wall sized mural, stating that it was too advanced.

With a beautiful portrait in tow, he returned and hung it up near his shrine. It couldn’t compare to his young master’s radiance but it had been the best thing he’d ever painted and he was felling pleased with himself.

An idea came over him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without their help after all…

And that was what led to him showing up at Ramshackle outside of lesson hours with a small canvas nervously clenched in his hands.

“Human. It didn’t turn out as well without your guidance, but this is a little token of appreciation for your help these past few weeks.” He pushed the portrait into the Prefects hands, ready to accept criticism.

“…”

“Human..?”

“…Pffhehe-, I never expected you to do something so heartfelt for a ‘dumb human’. Heh, I guess I really grew on you!”

“Why are you laughing?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME??”

If he had his sword on him he would be unsheathing it right now.

“No, no, thanks man, I love it.”

The brightest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from them blossomed.

He felt his face burn and his heartbeat rise to an abnormal degree as the Prefect’s warm gaze felt as though it were boring into him.

…I must inquire with Master Lilia what hex this human has placed upon me. Right this instant!