#that last one was asked with fear and hope. and fear. depending on the day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fushitoru · 4 days ago

Text

infect me with your love

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City?

warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, SMUT, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, basically the holy trinity, reader works at Starbucks (BOYCOTT tho), set in NYC, both reader and gojo are physics majors, mentions of SA, attempt at SA on reader but nothing too graphic, some violence, gojo swings reader across NYC so might trigger fear of heights?. SPIDER-MAN KISS SPIDERMAN KISS, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n thank you for @avaults my POOKIE for beta reading this. this has been a journey and my first longfic and i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it it's my baby:')

if u don’t wanna read the smut just skip the part after they make up, it’s not necessary to the story and is the ending scene. but just to be clear, minors dni.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

fun fact: starbucks opens at 5am.

of course, that depends on your local hours and where you live, but in the campus starbucks you worked at, your manager fortunately didn’t really care if you showed up to your opening shift a bit late. after all, no professor or undergrad is waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a fuckin coffee; if they really needed a pick me up, they’d go to get the free alcohol at one of the frats that was still partying.

matter of fact, your manager didn’t really give a fuck what you did as long as you didn’t get the shop blown up or the matcha spilled (it was expensive). this meant you could leisurely wake up at 4:45am and set up the display muffins and cake pops when you arrived in the shop at 5:20am. really, the manager ought to reduce the hours because all you do is finish your readings for your gen ed history classes on the canvas app on your phone. so, really you get paid for doing your homework on your shifts—not that you’re complaining or anything.

that is, until gojo satoru.

first, let’s get the record straight about who gojo is. gojo is a physics second-year—same as you–who is the bane of your existence. up until a few months ago, you never saw gojo satoru outside of classes (where he was dozing off) unless you happened to show up at a frat party, which was only a few occurrences when you got peer pressured by your friends. clearly, he was a “work hard, party hard” type person because he frequents the frats more than the library while having the grades to make up for it because he’s a prodigy. he’s charismatic and smart as fuck; right out of middle school he was studying manifolds and abstract algebra while the rest of the high school freshmen were learning the quadratic equation and the concept of variables. he probably learned what gravity was at age of two and was doing research in quantum field theory by the time he got into college.

take the last time you saw him outside of class, at office hours with professor yaga.

the air in professor yaga’s office is thick with the scent of old textbooks, the hum of the overhead lights adding to the familiar quiet. you’ve been waiting all week for this chance, and you’re armed with a question that’s supposed to signal *i’ve done my homework.* you lean forward, trying to project confidence as you ask, “i read in your last paper that you’re working on optimizing error correction in quantum computing systems. is there a reason you prioritized stabilizer codes over surface codes?”

professor yaga’s brow lifts, impressed, and you can feel the warmth of his approval starting to settle around you. “ah,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised, “you’ve actually read it. that’s... a complicated question.” he leans back, launching into an explanation, and for a second, you think this might actually be it—the moment he notices you for your dedication, your depth of knowledge.

but then, the door creaks open behind you.

you tense, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach even before you turn around. of course, it’s gojo satoru, strolling in like he owns the place. his bag is slung over one shoulder, and he’s flashing that easy grin that never seems to falter. he spares you the briefest glance before zeroing in on professor yaga.

professor yaga’s face shifts instantly, a mixture of annoyance and resignation flashing in his eyes as he sighs, “gojo. nice of you to join us.”

“hey, i was just passing by,” gojo says casually, though he’s clearly anything but. he doesn’t pass by anywhere without making an entrance. “thought i’d check in on how everyone’s doing.”

the glint in yaga’s eyes sharpens, and he fixes gojo with a look. “when’s that last problem set coming in, satoru? i’ve had enough late assignments from you for one semester.”

at this, another professor at a nearby desk chuckles, casting an amused glance at gojo. “don’t push him too hard, yaga,” he says as if gojo’s delinquency is something charming, a shared inside joke. “kid’s already got the department’s highest scores without trying.”

oh, for god’s fucking sake. you force yourself not to roll your eyes, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag as you sink back in your chair. of course, all it takes is for him to show up and somehow you’re rendered invisible. just minutes ago, professor yaga was engaging with you, treating you as if you might actually belong in this room with your carefully constructed question. now, he’s utterly distracted, entirely absorbed by whatever pseudo-flattering insults he’s throwing at gojo. and, for the record, that stupid, balding professor is wrong. you have the same fucking scores as gojo, so you’re equals.

you’re not even sure gojo realizes he’s doing it—that he has this magnetic, obnoxious effect on everyone in a room. but that’s exactly what grates on you the most. he pulls all eyes to him, like he’s some cosmic force everyone’s compelled to admire. and you? you’re just… there. not that it’s any different than the usual experiences you’ve had as a woman in stem, always feeling like you have to prove yourself five times over. but somehow, gojo makes it worse.

and he does it all effortlessly, like physics is some sort of playground where he can breeze through research and exams, sprinkling charisma wherever he goes. he’s probably off writing his own theories on manifolds while everyone else is struggling to keep up with quantum mechanics. meanwhile, here you are, clawing for every shred of recognition, only to watch it fizzle as soon as he steps into the room.

he flashes a grin at professor yaga. “i’ll get it in,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “i’m just, you know, prioritizing. some of us have… extracurriculars.” he doesn’t wink, but he might as well.

you resist the urge to scoff, sinking deeper into your seat as the frustration bubbles up, sharp and hot. it’s not like you’re jealous. you’d rather endure anything than admit that. but watching gojo waltz in and immediately siphon off any attention you’d managed to earn feels like a slap. if he could just stop *showing up,* or better yet, stop pretending to be so casually brilliant, maybe—just maybe—you’d have a chance at something other than this routine invisibility.

you let out a huff, pretending to check the time, imagining you had somewhere better to be. you have brilliant, observant blue eyes following you out the door, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself together until you reach your dorm, where you ugly cry it out.

which, of course, brings you to mornings like this one, where you actually do have to be somewhere. namely, behind the counter at the campus starbucks, opening up shop while most of the world is still asleep. you catch sight of the green mermaid logo ahead, just visible through the dim haze of a 5:07 a.m. chill.

and right beneath it, there’s a familiar head of silver hair.

your eyes have to double take on the man who seems to be looking a bit slouched, tired and leaning against the light pole while tapping his foot. the muscular yet tall stature and white hair are unmistakable; it’s the same ones you’ve dreamed about throttling. but you’re so confused as to why he’s there that you just decide to wordlessly walk towards the store and open up, ignoring his presence until his voice cuts through the morning silence.

“doesn’t this store open up at 5?” his voice sounds tired and groggy, you notice.

“uh, yea,” you answer tentatively, shrugging. “but, um, no one comes until 7 so i show up late.”

his eyes narrow and somewhat playfully (well, as playful as he can sound at the ass crack of dawn anyways), he asks, “don’t you know time is of the essence? seems pretty irresponsible to me that you’re not showing up on time.”

you just stare at him for a bit because, after all, this is the guy you’ve been having the murderous equivalent of wet dreams about for the past year talking to you in a friendly, joking, familiar way. needless to say, you’re at a loss of words in your slightly flustered state, so all that comes out is a short “sorry” before you’re walking in, getting ready to put on your apron and setting the oven on to heat up the croissants.

gojo follows in after you, choosing to sit at the table closest to the counter. he sets the backpack he had on his back down, rummaging through and whipping out his laptop and plugging it in. it’s a heavy old thing, and gojo’s biceps strain as he pulls it out and you almost snort when looking at it in its entirety. a gaming laptop.

but you don’t do that, because laughing at someone who’s a stranger to you would be mean, no matter how much you hate him, so you resort to setting up the counter and getting some powders out. bending over, you get the newly shipped box of cake pops, deigning to put them out on display until you’re interrupted with a cough.

you turn, looking inquisitively at gojo until he points down to the counter, indicating that he wants to order. you mumble, “just a second!” before you continue hauling the box to put it on the top counter where you can easily unpack it and brush your hands, walking up to gojo and getting the system ready to take his order.

and your fingers are poised on the buttons until you realize that no order is coming out of his mouth. you blink, and he blinks, keeping a stoic face that nevertheless poorly conceals an amused expression.

“…what can i get you?”

at that, he pouts. “no good morning? no chirpy hello?”

you just stare at him for a good second. what the fuck?

“what?” gojo frowns. “shouldn’t you do that to every customer?” you realize belatedly you’ve said it out loud in your shock, but shake it off nonetheless.

the silence lingers after gojo’s teasing comment, making you acutely aware of the odd situation: you’re standing there in your work apron, face-to-face with the man you’ve imagined taking down in your head a thousand times, and yet here he is, tired but playfully trying to chat you up. you should hate this—he’s getting under your skin, but for some reason, you just feel unsettled, disturbed that he’s so human.

you don’t trust your voice to not crack while making eye contact with him, so, instead, you focus on your screen. you settle on a simple, flat, “morning,” without a hint of cheerfulness, staring down at the register like it’s your lifeline.

gojo’s eyebrow quirks at your half-hearted greeting, but he says nothing, opting instead to study you with an amused glint. you can feel his gaze, like a weight on your skin, and it almost makes you shiver. he leans forward a little, propping his elbows on the counter, his posture loose but expectant. his playful energy is barely masking something beneath it, something harder.

gojo's grin is wide, almost boyish, and it makes your stomach churn more than it should.

“see? was that so hard?” he says, leaning forward on his elbows like he’s settling in for a chat. his tone is too friendly for someone who’s never exchanged more than a glance with you in class—someone you’ve been actively avoiding whenever possible.

you scowl, moving to the register to finally punch in his order. “what would you like?”

“hmm...” he taps his chin, dragging out the silence. he’s enjoying this, that much is obvious. “surprise me.”

you blink, fingers still poised over the buttons. “surprise you?”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “you work here. you know what’s good.”

you want to throttle him. really, truly throttle him. there’s no way this is real—no way the gojo satoru is sitting in front of you at 5:07 in the morning, asking you to surprise him with a starbucks order like he’s some quirky regular.

and yet, here you are.

“fine,” you mutter, punching in the order for the sweetest, most ridiculous concoction you can think of. caramel drizzle, extra whipped cream, a pump of every syrup in the back room—you’re not going easy on him. “that’ll be eight dollars.”

he doesn’t blink at the ridiculous price. of course, he doesn’t.

pulling out his phone, he taps it against the card reader and flashes you another grin. “thanks, i’m sure it’ll be great.”

you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. “uh-huh.”

as you move to make the drink, the silence between you stretches uncomfortably. you’ve spent so much time thinking about gojo, despising him, that now that he’s here, right in front of you, you don’t know how to act. and the worst part? he seems perfectly at ease, completely unfazed by the fact that you’ve spent the better part of a year dreaming of his downfall. he’s back to looking at his stupid heavy ahh gaming laptop, and as you move over to put in copious amounts of caramel pumps, you notice that he’s on cool math games playing fireboy and watergirl and almost snort out loud. he’s locked in on his game, his legs moving up and down anxiously, reminiscent of an ipad kid.

after a few minutes of assembling his monstrosity of a drink, you slide it across the counter. “here,” you say, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

gojo raises an eyebrow at the drink, the sheer volume of whipped cream threatening to spill over the lid. “wow,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed. “you really went all out.”

“you said to surprise you.”

“i did,” he admits, grabbing the cup and taking a slow, deliberate sip. his eyes widen slightly at the overly sweet taste, and for a brief moment, you think you’ve won.

but then he smiles again, that same irritatingly carefree smile, and you know you haven’t.

“so,” gojo begins, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a long conversation. “what’s a genius like you doing working the early shift at starbucks?”

your hands freeze mid-clean, and you glance at him sharply. genius?

you can’t tell if he’s being sincere or mocking you—probably the latter, considering who he is—but the word still lingers in the air between you, unsettling.

you scoff, trying to brush it off. “gotta pay the bills somehow,” you mutter, going back to wiping down the counter. but gojo’s gaze is heavy on you, and you can tell he’s not letting it go.

you glance up at him. “look, i like having time to think in the mornings. it’s quiet. besides, no one’s lining up for coffee before 7, so it’s not like i’m missing anything.”

gojo chuckles softly, but there’s something off about it. “thinking time, huh?” he repeats your words, but there’s a strange edge to them, like he’s mulling them over. in fact, you think you just realize that he’s been acting oddly this entire morning, restlessness evident in his figure. he taps his fingers on the table, his eyes flickering to the window, watching the gray morning light spill into the shop.

“doesn’t it ever feel like…” he trails off, brow furrowing slightly. “i don’t know… like you should be doing something else? like… something more?”

his question hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken, but you get the feeling he’s not talking about you. there’s something in his voice, something that sounds like he’s grappling with his own thoughts, with his own place in the world.

for a moment, you’re tempted to brush him off. to tell him he’s overthinking things, that he’s gojo satoru and he already has everything laid out for him. but something stops you. maybe it’s the way he looks—his usual confidence slightly cracked at the edges, his playful tone masking something else. something deeper.

you shrug, turning back to the counter. “i mean… it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

there’s a pause, and you can feel the weight of your words sinking in. gojo goes quiet, really quiet, and when you glance back at him, his usual smirk is gone. he’s just… staring at you, eyes narrowed slightly like he’s trying to figure you out.

“just… showing up, huh?” he repeats softly, almost like he’s testing the words. his fingers stop tapping, and he leans back in his chair, his gaze unfocused, like he’s somewhere else entirely. somewhere in his own head.

you don’t say anything else. you’ve said your piece, and somehow, you know it hit deeper than either of you expected. there’s a strange silence between you now, not uncomfortable, but heavy with understanding.

gojo stands up after a long pause, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. he looks at you, his usual grin slipping back into place, but it’s softer now. less cocky. more real.

“maybe you’re right,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing in his voice. “sometimes it’s enough just to show up.”

and with that, he gives you a small nod, turning and heading out into the cold morning. the door swings shut behind him, and for a second, you just stand there, staring after him.

something’s shifted. you don’t know what it is, but it feels like the start of something. something bigger than just a rivalry.

you shake your head, turning back to the counter. it’s too early for this shit.

…

“you know, i didn’t get your name.”

gojo’s voice cuts through the low hum of the espresso machine as he leans against the counter, that same insufferable grin plastered across his face. he’s here again, of course, only this time it’s during your closing shift. the place is quiet, almost deserted except for the occasional customer who swings by for a quick coffee before heading back out into the cold.

you look up from the equipment you were cleaning, already annoyed. “i’m pretty sure we’ve shared at least one class every semester.”

you weren’t trying to hide the pettiness. gojo, for all his academic genius, clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember you—a recurring face in his orbit. it’s not like you were expecting him to remember you, especially among the sea of faces in lecture halls, but something about the way he strolled in, acting like this was just some cute, quirky meet-cute, got under your skin.

gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling as if searching the recesses of his mind for your name—only to come up empty. “are you a grad student?”

you flash him an exasperated look. “just for that, i’m not telling you.”

grabbing a towel to wipe your hands, you step out from behind the barista counter, heading towards the trash can just behind him to restock the straws. as you make your way to the supply room, you can feel his eyes following your every move. to your surprise, gojo starts walking toward you, his presence looming as you dump the straws into the container.

it isn’t until you turn around that you realize he’s standing right next to you, bent comically at the waist and squinting at something on your chest. heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks as you realize his proximity and move to take a step back.

he wasn’t ogling you (thank god), but instead, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron.

"ah," he says, straightening up with a triumphant grin. “there it is. y/n, huh?” the way his mouth rolls over your name slowly makes you feel a bit weird, because after all, this is the guy you’ve shit talked about in your diary finally acknowledging you existed, but before you can reflect on the feeling, you bristle again in annoyance.

“really? you had to get that close just to read my name?”

gojo doesn’t seem fazed by your annoyance, in fact, it only seems to amuse him further. “hey, i was just trying to be thorough. gotta make sure i get it right, you know?” his grin widens, and you swear he’s enjoying this way too much.

“thorough. sure.” you turn away, trying to busy yourself with the straws again, but the heat still lingers on your face. his proximity had been… unexpected. and a little too close for comfort.

when you’re done with the straws, you steel the courage to turn your body so you’re facing him, making an indication with your hands for him to move out of your way. instead of him giving you space to leave the cramped corner, he leans against the counter now like he practically owns the place. in doing so, he effectively pins you against the corner of the coffee shop, leaving you no option but to fiddle with the straws while pointedly avoiding his gaze, but not before you see the pout on his face. “you’re not going to ask me for my name?”

“i know it. it’s gojo.” you immediately curse yourself for letting your lips loose.

fuck. he squints his eyes in what you perceive as suspicion. “how do you know my name?”

“i saw it on your credit card information.” you couldn’t exactly tell him how you’ve stalked him (as well as how inefficient you found a function in his 6th grade robotics code), so that would be a plausible enough reason.

but gojo, of course, doesn’t let up. “so, y/n,” he starts. “you going to the party next week? you know, for halloweekend?”

ah, halloweekend. the ultimate weekend for getting excuses to dress slutilly, excessively drink, and get laid. at your college, it was an even bigger deal, with people partying for all three days of the week’s end as well as the weekend before and after halloween. you shook your head. “i don’t think so.” that phys 321 assignment was not going to finish itself, nor were parties really your scene.

“what?” he immediately crosses his arms across his chest, frowning and leaning closer to you to squint at you. “why?”

you sigh inwardly, awkward at the prospect of him bugging you further about your life. “i’m bu—”

you’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening and instinctively move to get behind the counter to take the new customer’s order; at first, you thank the heavens that you got a distraction from gojo, that you’re not alone anymore, but seeing who the customer was, the hope extinguishes like a candle face with wind.

you both see a man swagger in, the same guy you’ve noticed hanging around far too often lately. his eyes immediately lock onto you, and a slow, sleazy grin spreads across his face.

“hey, look who’s still here,” the man says, sauntering over to the counter like he owns the place. “my favorite barista.”

you tense, forcing a smile. “what can i get you?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his gaze sliding down your body in a way that makes your skin crawl. “i was thinking…” he drawls, leaning in closer than necessary, “you and i should hang out. you’re always here, and i’m always here, so it’s like fate or something, right?”

your stomach churns, and you take a small step back, maintaining your composure. “i’m good, thanks.”

but he doesn’t let up, leaning further across the counter. “come on, don’t be like that. just one drink. you deserve it after a long day.”

“i really can’t—”

“don’t be shy,” he interrupts, a grin spreading wider. “i’m a nice guy, i promise.”

before you can think of another polite rejection, gojo steps forward, his body language shifting entirely. the playful air around him evaporates, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. he positions himself squarely between you and the guy, effectively cutting off the man’s view of you.

“she said no,” gojo says, his voice firm, low. “so why don’t you fuck off?”

the sleazy guy blinks, clearly not expecting the sudden shift. his smile fades, and he glares at gojo, sizing him up like he’s considering pushing back. but one glance at gojo’s unwavering stare, and the guy decides it’s not worth it. with a muttered curse, he turns and leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the guy’s been bothering you routinely; part of you thinks that he’s still not going to leave you alone, but the rest of you visibly relaxes, the weight of this guy’s harassment lifting off your shoulders under gojo’s protection.

gojo turns back to you, the usual teasing smirk creeping back onto his face, though his eyes are still sharp. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you manage, though your voice is quieter than you’d like. “thanks for that.”

“don’t mention it.” he shrugs it off like it was nothing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now—something protective. “i know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, but i figured i’d speed things up a bit.”

you roll your eyes, trying to shake off the tension. “you’re such a hero, gojo.”

“always,” he replies with a wink. and just like that, the moment’s lightened again, the balance between you restored, though there’s a subtle shift in the air. something unspoken between the two of you—an understanding, maybe.

you don’t acknowledge it out loud, but as you go back to restocking, you find yourself glancing at him more than before. and for the first time in… well, ever, you don’t completely mind his presence.

…

fast forward a few hours, and after a bit of conversation, gojo finally leaves the fine institution that is your campus starbucks. right now, you’re alone and finishing cleaning up. you lock up, the starbucks finally closed, finishing your last task for the night. it’s quiet—too quiet, actually, with the usual streetlights casting strange shadows across the empty sidewalk. the air feels heavy, like something unseen is lingering just out of reach, watching from the dark. you shake it off, telling yourself you’re just tired and letting your nerves get to you.

as you start your walk back to your dorm, the feeling only grows. the street’s nearly empty, and with each step, the silence presses in closer. it’s fine, you tell yourself, picking up your pace. but then you hear it: the echo of footsteps, faint but unmistakable. heart pounding, you speed up, every instinct telling you to just get back. almost there. you just have to cross the alley—

“hey there,” a voice drawls, and your stomach sinks. a hand moves to grab at your shoulder, making you turn quickly. what meets your vision is the same guy from earlier, his grin widening in a way that makes your skin crawl.

you try to move out of his grip, but he grabs you harder, cutting off any escape. “aw, don’t be like that. i just wanted some company.”

your throat’s dry, but you manage, “i said no.”

he doesn’t even pretend to listen, his gaze trailing over you with that same leering interest. “no need to be so uptight. i could make this fun for you.”

your back hits the wall of the alley. trapped. he leans in, his breath warm and sour against your face, one hand reaching out as he says something sleazy that you can barely hear over the pounding in your ears—

and then a voice cuts in from above, all easy humor. “y’know, i always thought this city’s trash problem was bad, but this is something else.”

your heart leaps in your chest at the small flicker of hope, that someone has the balls to try to rescue you. but as you—and this creep—turn, you find no evidence of another party present, only his mysterious presence.

“who’s there?” the guy snarls, his grip tightening so much that you wince. “why don’t you get lost if you know what’s good for you—”

“dude, don’t you have any rizz?” the mysterious boy retorts.the stranger has a youthful voice, someone of your age. “the way you have to resort to sexual harassment is just sad. you guys are always sooo predictable, you’re so gonna tell me to scram or something.”

the man scowls, hand leaving your arm in an effort to search for the stranger in the dark. “why don’t you mind your own business, punk—”

and he’s interrupted, because a shiny, silver something flings out in the darkness and lands on his face, sending his arms in a frenzy to uncover what it is. the man rips the sticky, silver webbing off his face with a growl, looking around wildly, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. his eyes dart through the dark alley, searching for the source of that cocky voice, but there’s nothing—just shadows and the faint flicker of a streetlamp somewhere down the block.

“who the hell are you?” he snaps, twisting his neck as if he could scare whoever’s hiding out there into the open. “show yourself, you bastard!”

a chuckle echoes from the darkness, bouncing off the brick walls. “wow, real tough guy, huh? but you should work on those anger issues. they’re, uh…a bit unbecoming.”

the man spins around, and another burst of webbing flies out from somewhere unseen, sticking to his shoulder this time. he yanks it off with a frustrated grunt, his head whipping from side to side as he tries to locate the stranger.

“you think this is funny?” he spits, voice raised in a mix of fear and fury.

“depends. do you?” the voice is closer now, almost like the stranger is right above you, yet no one’s there. “or is this just a big overreaction? all i did was suggest you rethink your approach. go to therapy or sum’.”

the man snarls, fists clenched, starting to look downright unhinged. “get down here and say that to my face, punk!”

“as you wish.”

with a soft thump, a figure drops from above, landing directly in front of the guy in a low crouch. in the dim light, all you see at first are the blue and black accents on the otherwise white suit, his head tilting up, illuminated just enough that his white, wide eyes glow with a certain playful menace. and then, your eyes widen as you gasp to yourself.

you’ve seen him before.

okay, pause.

you’re a busy college student, one who stays entrenched in the bubble of upcoming exams, assignments, and problem sets that you don’t check the news often. in the off chance you do turn from your usual consumption of social media during your breaks to the news, you only have time to read the big headlines.

so you did read somewhere that in your university’s city of new york city, there was a masked menan—vigilante that had beat up a few guys near a shawarma joint or prevented some shootings at a nightclub. new york city was full of incompetent cops that were on the lookout for him (a/n acabbbbbb) since this guy was a vigilante, some kind of superhero slinging around on webs. some name—spiderman.

but before you could read more into the article, your soul almost left your body when you got a canvas notification saying your midterm was graded, so that was the end of that.

alright, pause over. back to now.

“hi!” spiderman chirps, giving him a friendly wave before ducking just as the man throws a punch. the swing goes wide, and spiderman straightens up with a disappointed sigh. “see, this is why i’m the one with the web powers. you’d hurt yourself with these moves.”

without warning, the man charges again, swinging in rapid succession, but each one misses as spiderman easily sidesteps, practically dancing around him. “oof, dude, how did you make it this far in life with reflexes like that?” he ducks another blow, slipping behind the guy to give him a light tap on the shoulder as he passes.

the man stumbles, eyes flashing with frustration, and lets out a roar, reaching down to pick up a loose brick from the alley floor. he raises it above his head, face twisted in a snarl.

“oh, so we’re improvising now?” spiderman quips, and before the man can bring the brick down, a strand of webbing shoots out, sticking to the brick and yanking it from his grasp. it flies off somewhere into the alley, landing with a dull clatter.

the guy stumbles forward, off balance, and spiderman takes the opportunity to web his feet to the ground, immobilizing him in place. the man struggles, pulling his legs, but he’s stuck fast.

“ever heard of boundaries?” spiderman asks, tilting his head with mock innocence. “or, like, self-restraint? you should look into it.”

the man glares, seething, still struggling against the webs. “you think you’re some kinda hero?” he sneers.

spiderman shrugs, glancing over at you, catching your gaze in a way that makes you feel both strangely comforted and seen. “nah, hero’s a big word. i’m just your friendly neighborhood guy with slightly above-average reflexes.”

with a frustrated yell, the man finally wrenches one arm free and makes a desperate lunge, his fist connecting with spiderman’s side. spiderman lets out a small grunt but only wobbles slightly before grinning. “okay, buddy, playtime’s over.”

before the man can even react, spiderman sends out another web, this time at his wrist, effectively pinning him to the alley wall. he struggles, face twisted in anger, but spiderman just raises a gloved hand to his lips as if hushing a child. then, in the lull that follows, you remember the thick quantum mechanics textbook in your bag. without thinking, you yank it out and, in a burst of adrenaline, swing it at the man’s head. the book lands with a solid thud, and he slumps, finally, into silence.

spiderman looks at the unconscious man, then at the textbook in your hand. he lets out a low whistle. “you know, i’ve always thought textbooks were a weapon of choice, but that’s next-level dedication.” that’s when you realize just how tall he is compared to you, and you can’t help your excitement when you realize that he’s here in the flesh.

“nice hit, by the wa—”

“it’s you!” you exclaim.

“what?” he sputters, white eyes widening almost comically. “me? oh,” then he straightens up, “yea, yea. just your friendly neighborhood spiderman. rescuing pretty girls from creeps, kinda my thing. ” he shrugs.

you continue, excitedly, “right, you’re the one on the news—” you move your hand to point at him but quickly wince, the pain of the man’s grip catching up to you.

he doesn’t miss the movement, eyes squinting at you. “hey, we’ll have to get you home. do you trust me?”

you look at him, clutching your arm in pain, and really take a moment to check him out. he’s saved you, he’s probably six feet tall, and his ass looks fantastic in his suit. at this point, you’re looking at him with heart eyes. but you can’t exactly tell him you want him to propose, so all you utter out is a “y-yeah. my dorm’s randall.”

he doesn't waste any time. with a quick nod, he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he aims a webline up toward the buildings. “hold on tight, randall’s just a swing away,” he murmurs, his voice light but steady. his hand settles on your hip, and you can't stop the way your stomach flips at the contact.

before you can even process what’s happening, he launches the two of you into the air, the city blurring beneath your feet as you cling to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit for dear life. his arm stays solid around you, his grip somehow both gentle and strong. he lands lightly on the roof of your dorm, setting you down carefully like you’re something fragile. and he steps back, dusting his hands off in the most nonchalant way possible, like he didn’t just take you on the most exhilarating ride of your life.

“this is your stop,” he says, that signature, almost cocky smile playing in his voice.

“uh… yeah. thanks. for the rescue,” you manage, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. you don’t know if “thank you” is enough—it doesn’t even come close to covering what you feel.

but he just shrugs, taking a step back. “all in a day’s work,” he says. “or night’s work, i guess.” he pauses, giving you a quick once-over. “get some sleep, yeah?”

and just like that, he gives you a small, almost playful salute and vanishes, swinging off into the night as easily as he’d appeared, leaving you standing on the rooftop with your heart still racing.

back in your dorm room, you drop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling as tonight’s events replay in your head: the alley, his voice cutting through the dark, that cocky smirk, the way he felt holding onto you as you soared over the city lights. a tiny part of you wonders if you imagined the whole thing—if maybe you’re just the victim of some wild, sleep-deprived hallucination.

but no, your arm still aches from where the creep grabbed you, and you can still feel the ghost of his hand on your waist, steady and reassuring. you bite your lip, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself.

just before sleep finally claims you, you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “the city’s vigilante, huh?” you murmur, as if he’s somehow still listening.

the thought is wild, a bit surreal—and strangely comforting.

…

“one caffe americano!” you call out, reading the label on the cup before handing it over with a small nod. the customer takes it with a quick thanks, and you return to the counter, barely holding back a yawn. the events of last night flicker through your mind—a web-slinging hero, an alley, the lingering ache in your arm—and you shake it off. there’s no room for distractions. life as a college student means the grind never stops, especially on a morning shift right before class.

when your coworker finally arrives, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, grab your bag, and step out into the brisk morning air. the chill helps wake you up as you make your way across campus, hoping to catch up with your friends before the lecture starts. just outside the building, you spot utahime, sitting on a bench, waiting with her usual tired smile.

“hey, finally off the clock?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, barely,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “i’m still running on fumes from last night. you guys save me a seat?”

“of course. nanami’s already inside,” she says, gesturing toward the building.

you sigh. “you won’t believe the things that happened last night.”

she gives you a look, in the traditional utahime protective-mother-hen type way. “what happened?”

you give her the rundown of what happened, the guy (who she bristles at, gives you a slap at your hand to tell you that you should’ve told her earlier, kento would’ve been able to beat his ass if she hadn’t gotten to it first) and how spiderman saved you. “i would give him what he’s missing,” you sigh, dreamily.

utahime looks at you in a judgmental way. “and that’s all you got from this? for fucks sake, he’s a vigilante, you don’t know if he’s started to tail you or not. pooks, he could literally be dangerous. try to convince your boss to let someone else get your night shift.” as soon as you open your mouth to protest, she cuts you off immediately. “and no, i don’t give a fuck about your people pleaser tendenci—”

“we’ll revisit this conversation later.” you give her a sweet smile as you start to speed walk, door of the lecture hall of the 9am section of phys401: intro to quantum algorithms, falling in with the usual stream of students after you hear an irritated “yea, cause i’m gonna kill you otherwise.” the familiar chatter and echo of footsteps make the day feel almost normal, grounding you as you weave through the hall.

inside, you quickly spot kento’s shining, disney prince-like blonde hair, who has saved seats for the three of you near the middle of the hall, away from the ugly, smelly grad students who always crowd the front. he gives you a quick nod as you settle down beside him, flipping open your notebook. the reliable calm on his face helps ease the lingering jitters you hadn’t realized you were carrying.

“long night?” he asks, glancing at the dark circles under your eyes.

“you could say that,” you mumble, not quite ready to get into details. instead, you wave it off. “just work assignments, and getting jumped, the usual.”

nanami breaks into a series of shocked coughs, and you hurry to pat his back as he undeniably burns his tongue on the coffee he was taking a sip of. “what?”

his rather loud exclamation sets off stares from people sitting closer to you both, so you give utahime, who lets out a quiet groan as she’s settling into her seat beside you, a knowing look. “it’s a long story, i’ll tell it to you later.”

he reluctantly settles in after that, not because he has a choice but because yaga is starting to address the class by asking about the weekend and getting his usual blank stares in return until a voice you recognize as suguru geto’s is saying something to undeniably piss him off, but you don’t register quite what it is exactly because the door opens and any attention on geto is directed to the boy with white hair and blue eyes tiredly walking into class.

he’s about ten minutes late to the lecture, which is already weird because he’s usually about 27 seconds late, not that you keep count. but also, normally gojo is the picture of confidence and cockyness, making some of the female grad students whisper things about him that you don’t think they should be for the five year gap between them and gojo.

but today, he looks different—messy, unkempt, with shadows under his eyes and a weird angle to his torso, the way he walks, and the way his opposite hand is subconsciously hovering around his side.

your brows knit together as he heads to an empty seat rows behind you next to geto, ignoring the stares of half the room. it’s so out of character for him that you can’t help but wonder what’s going on. you shoot utahime a knowing look, and she stifles a laugh, barely managing to keep a straight face as she watches gojo slink to his seat. nanami’s usually impassive face exchanges a look with you as well before he turns his attention back to professor yaga’s opening remarks. gojo slides into the row behind you without a word, avoiding everyone’s gaze—or so you think, until you feel it.

as you attempt to listen to professor yaga, you can’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into the back of your head. you resist the urge to turn, telling yourself it’s probably nothing… except the feeling lingers, so strong that your pulse ticks up a notch.

“okay, now that we’re all here,” yaga says in a dry tone, barely able to hide his irritation as he glances pointedly in gojo’s direction, “let’s begin with today’s lecture on grover’s.”

professor yaga taps the board, and the projector switches to a set of slides titled quantum speed-up and the grover search algorithm. he launches into his explanation, voice clipped. “grover’s algorithm provides a quadratic speed-up for unstructured search problems, a notable advantage in quantum computing. but can anyone tell me why this isn’t considered an exponential improvement?”

you raise your hand, as does nanami. a subtle shift of movement in your peripheral vision draws your eye to gojo, who’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. yaga’s attention lands on nanami first, and he gives a succinct answer about how grover’s algorithm yields only a quadratic speed-up in terms of computational complexity. as he answers, you swear you catch gojo watching you, again, through the corner of your eye.

determined not to let him get under your skin, you lean over to whisper to nanami. “what’s with him today?”

nanami, still watching yaga, raises a brow. “maybe he finally realized that he can’t get by without skipping class today.”

utahime snickers quietly. “doubtful. more like he thinks it’s funny to waltz in whenever he likes and still ace every test.”

“exactly.” you sigh, drumming your pen against your notebook. gojo’s rare absences don’t even seem to faze most professors. and despite his unpredictable attendance, he’s always managed to stay miles ahead. today, though, something’s… different about him. like he’s made a life changing decision in the past 48 hours.

“moving on,” yaga says, pointing to the board where the next slide materializes. “the heart of grover’s algorithm lies in its use of an amplitude amplification technique, where we iterate a search oracle along with an inversion process. pay attention—this concept of iterative improvement will become key when we start covering variational quantum algorithms.”

as yaga delves deeper into amplitude amplification, you manage to focus, jotting down notes on the necessary steps in grover’s search. yet each time you settle into the lecture, you feel gojo’s gaze pricking at you. the first time you turn around, there’s nothing there—just him slouched, seemingly absorbed in whatever he’s staring at on the ceiling. but then, you sense it again and, on your second glance, you catch his blue eyes meeting yours, and he quickly looks away.

what’s his problem? you give him a questioning look, but he’s adamantly not looking at you, trying to look nonchalant as he’s pulling out his laptop. he might look like a student taking latexing notes of what yaga’s yapping about, but the way he’s using his mouse more than he is his keyboard tells you that he’s probably on papa’s freezeria instead.

you decide that you’re going to waste your time wondering how gojo’s brain functioned, so you instead focus back on the lecture. after all, you didn’t understand any of the lecture notes you took notes on before and what it said about the diffuser in the circuit.

“now,” yaga’s voice sharpens, pulling you back into the room, “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of being late.” his eyes slide back to gojo, who remains oblivious, leaning back with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the sound of his name brings him back to the lecture.

gojo doesn’t even look phased. instead, he raises a hand casually, like he’s about to ask a simple question. you can feel the anticipation ripple through the room—half the students are waiting to see if he’ll fumble, and the other half already know better.

“professor yaga,” he drawls, “don’t you think amplitude amplification is a bit of an oversimplification? the way it’s typically presented, you’d think grover’s algorithm was just… guessing with style.” he flashes an infuriatingly smug smile, drawing out the pause before continuing. “but we both know it’s more about quantum phase inversion, right? the oracle reflects about the mean state, iterating with a precision that isn’t just luck. or maybe that’s all too technical?” he leans back, feigning innocence.

the smugness in his tone makes something flare up in you, and before you can stop yourself, your hand shoots up.

“actually, gojo,” you interject, your voice louder than you intended, “calling it “guessing with style” is a very gross oversimplification. grover’s algorithm isn’t about intuition or luck. it’s about optimization. it’s not just about spotlighting a target like a rando guess, it’s more like rotating the probability in a controlled manner—with iterations—to amplify the correct solution. not just some quantum trick or guess.” you cross your arms, leaning back in your chair as you stare him down. “it’s not even that bad, compared to what we have classically.”

as soon as you spoke, it seems that the fight and mischievous look in gojo’s eyes fades, replacing it with something that shockingly looks like him being flustered as he averts your gaze, looks to the ceiling, and murmurs something like “yea, that’s basically most of quantum computing, desperately trying to prove we’re not just wasting our time” but yaga interrupts him, clearly a bit annoyed at the two know-it-alls that you and gojo were acting like.

“now,” yaga says, shifting back to the lecture as if nothing happened (probably because he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit), “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of missing lectures.”

you’re just left confused as to why the conversation didn’t escalate like the typical academic rivals in movies, because you’ve definitely seen gojo bully some people who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about instead of just blushing like some schoolgirl. regardless, you can’t help but notice the thrill that you felt, having finally argued with him, having been seen as someone worth arguing. you try to temper it as yaga continues onto the rest of the lecture.

…

“i can’t believe you’re making me go.” you tug at the hem of your white corset, paired with a matching skirt, still incredulous at how utahime managed to talk you into attending one of the infamous halloween frat parties. the night air is crisp against your exposed shoulders, and despite your complaints, you shiver more at the thought of wasting the next few hours among sweaty strangers than the actual cold.

utahime, walking beside you in a devil-red version of your outfit—complete with horns perched precariously on her head—looks far too satisfied with herself. she adjusts the horns with one hand, giving you a sidelong glance that practically drips with smugness.

“stop pouting,” she chides. “i’m not going to let you waste another night holed up in your room, buried in manhwa or quantum physics. i’m pretty sure there are cobwebs growing in your—”

“utahime,” you hiss, cutting her off with a mortified glance around.

“pussy,” she finishes, completely unbothered. “i’m going to find you a guy to hook up with. i’m not saying you have to go all the way, but flirting? kissing? maybe something more? very healthy. highly encouraged.”

your mouth falls open in protest, but before you can get a word in, she fixes you with a sharp glare, her dark eyes flashing with all the authority of a disappointed parent. “don’t even think about arguing with me. i swear, if you don’t at least try to enjoy this, i’ll make it my personal mission to find someone for you.”

“i can’t believe this,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “you’re supposed to be my friend, not my pimp.”

“oh, i’m your friend. that’s why i’m doing this. you’ll thank me when you’re sixty and not crying about how boring your college life was.”

“i’m not boring,” you counter. “i’m selective.”

“sure,” utahime drawls, clearly unconvinced. “and whatever weird sexual tension you’ve got going on with gojo doesn’t count.”

you scoff, stopping in your tracks to stare at her. “what tension? we’ve literally talked once this week. and that was the first time we had a conversation.”

she doesn’t respond, already scanning the scene ahead. the street of frat houses looms just ahead, glowing with gaudy orange lights strung up across balconies. the bass from the nearest party reverberates through the pavement underfoot. it’s already crowded, hordes of people shuffling in and out, laughing, shouting, and showcasing their half-baked halloween costumes.

you follow utahime’s gaze to the nearest house, packed with enough people to make the windows fog up. just the thought of squeezing into that humidity makes your stomach churn.

“looks crowded,” you mumble. “maybe we should—”

before you can suggest retreating, utahime grabs your wrist and practically drags you toward the house. “nope. you’re coming in. no backing out now.”

the moment you step inside, the smell hits you. sweat, stale beer, and an undercurrent of what you can only describe as frat-house musk. your nose wrinkles, and you instinctively recoil, pulling your arm free from utahime’s grasp.

“god, it smells like a gym locker in here,” you say, covering your nose.

utahime doesn’t seem fazed. she’s already scanning the room, her eyes landing on a beer pong table set up in the corner, surrounded by cheering students. “this is perfect!” she says, beaming.

“for what? contracting a fungal infection?” you mutter.

but she’s no longer listening, her focus shifting as a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a makeshift cowboy hat approaches her and then stops in front of both of you, his stare fully enthralled by utahime. “hey,” he says, a bit suavely, in the way that makes you inwardly roll your eyes because you know she’s going to eat it up. she likes it when they’re a little ugly, and this guy fits the bill.

“hey,” and she giggles, making you have to physically fight the urge to puke, “what’s up?”

they exchange a few words, and before you know it, she’s smiling in that way that tells you she’s found her entertainment for the night.

“go ahead,” you say dryly, waving her off. “i’ll just fend for myself.”

utahime starts to protest, but you’re already beelining for the kitchen, trying to get a drink that’s not too crazy to survive the night. it’s surprisingly less chaotic in the kitchen, though the counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and some questionable punch that looks radioactive. you scan the room, your eyes landing on a cupboard that might hold something simple—like water. a series of ding! ding! ding!’s go off in your mind as you find the pack of plastic water bottles.

standing on your toes, you reach for the handle, but it’s just out of your grasp. you huff in frustration, shifting to get better leverage when a hand way bigger than yours suddenly appears above yours, effortlessly grabbing the item you were reaching for.

“let me get that for you.”

you turn to thank the person, the words dying on your lips when you see who it is.

gojo.

he’s standing impossibly close, his signature smirk firmly in place, but there’s something almost casual in the way he looks at you, as if this is the most normal interaction in the world. you swear you’re so close that you can see like the two open pores on his otherwise flawless skin, as his eyes inevitably drag themselves downwards to scan your outfit for the night—a shitty angel without wings and halo (you couldn’t be paid two shits to put in the effort; both of the top and skirt were utahime’s, anyways.) then, his eyes meet yours again, a bit of playfulness in them.

“well, well,” he drawls, handing you the water bottle. “never thought i’d see you here.”

you take the bottle, trying to ignore the brush of his fingers against yours. “didn’t have much of a choice. utahime dragged me.”

his grin widens. “classic. let me guess—she’s off trying to find her soulmate at the beer pong table?”

“something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. twisting the cap off the bottle, you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, “i heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that spider-man guy this week.”

that makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in kirkland signature natural spring water. you’ve only told like, three people outside of kento and iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. the memory of spider-man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “it was amazing. he’s—he’s incredible, honestly. the way he just swooped in and handled everything? so fast, so precise. he’s like a real-life superhero.”

you’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. he’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “sounds like you’re smitten.”

“maybe i am,” you admit, laughing. “i mean, who wouldn’t be? he’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. it’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” you also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare gojo the details.

“untouchable, huh?” gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“i’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. superheroes are overrated.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and what, you’re not?”

he grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “i’m better. i’m real.” he then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “i can prove that to you.”

and you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “god, you’re insufferable.”

“really?” he teases. his hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. the motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. and your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.

"yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds.

it seems to have an effect on gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "wastin' your time on that spiderman guy."

maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "who should i spend my time on instead?"

he gives you a little smile as he stares down at you, eyes raking over your face, catching at your lips and then going back up again to meet yours. “i don’t know, someone who’s as smart as you,” he murmurs.

“yea?” you laugh out breathlessly. your faces are so close that in normal circumstances, you would worry about how you both looked so close together, one hand on your thigh and the other splayed on your waist. “and how would you know how smart i am?”

satoru starts, lips coming closer and closer. “because i—”

but he’s interrupted, because you both hear a “satoru” and pull apart, breathing heavily as you both turn to look at the offender standing in the entrance of the kitchen: suguru geto, gojo’s best friend, looking more tired than anything as his eyes catch on you, then going to gojo with a pointed look. it’s not hard to figure out what was going on based on how disheveled you both look, your skirt crooked and his shirt crumbled, and your cheeks heat. before you can say anything, however, suguru sighs and says to gojo, “there’s a burglary happening nearby.” then, he turns but not before giving you a nod. “make sure to stay safe.”

he promptly leaves, leaving you confused standing there. was this such an emergency worth noting that he interrupted his best friend?

you try to seek the answer in gojo’s face, but he has this conflicted, annoyed countenance and you suddenly feel kinda of insecure because he’s raking his hand through his hair, staring painfully at the ceiling then at you. at the same time you utter out a “uh–” he says “i have to go.”

“oh.” you blink. a why brews on top of your tongue, but you temper it, reminding yourself that you’re not close to gojo like that. needless to say, you feel a little embarrassed as you watch him jog out of the kitchen with a little wave to you. you want to overanalyze gojo’s last look to you, the one that looked a bit like disappointment and yearning, but you shake it off, staring at the 16.9 oz plastic water bottle in your hand that you forgot about.

taking a sip, you cringe as you become more aware of your surroundings and the state you’re left in because of gojo. that your panties are a bit more sticky—you reach under your skirt to adjust them so they don’t stick to your crotch so much—and you’re hot all over.

then reality comes crashing back. what the hell did you and gojo just do right now?

you groan out loud, banging your head against the fridge, but as you reel back, in your peripheral you see someone there. your head shoots to see the guy who’s now looking at you with a weird expression as he undeniably waits for whatever freaking out you were doing to gain access to the fridge.

“sorry,” you blurt out, and gather yourself to beeline for the exit. god, you needed to find utahime.

…

the soft hum of a tv in the corner of satoru’s apartment provided the only sound, save for the faint rustle of suguru flipping through a textbook. the remnants of takeout—boxes of half-eaten pad thai and a pile of discarded chopsticks—littered the coffee table between them. satoru leaned back on the couch, legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling like it held answers he hadn’t thought to ask yet. he held a small foam ball, tossing it up and catching it over and over. his mind, however, wasn’t focused on the ball but on you.

it was starting to feel like an obsession. he’d always been able to compartmentalize things—his studies, his friends, his other responsibilities. but you? you’d broken through the usual barriers in his head, wedging yourself firmly into every free thought he had.

“do you think she likes me?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

suguru glanced up from his book, his expression unreadable. “who, starbucks girl?”

satoru scoffed. “she’s not starbucks girl. she’s…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers against his knee. your name lingered on his tongue, oddly weighty in a way that felt almost unfamiliar.

suguru smirked. “oh, she’s got a name now? progress.”

“shut up.”

but he couldn’t shut his mind off, not when you kept taking up space in it. it wasn’t just that he’d noticed you now—really noticed you, for the first time. it was more than that.

satoru had always known who you were. you weren’t exactly easy to miss. in a program full of ugly guys who didn’t shower and loud personalities, you had carved out your niche by being the cold, unreachable one. the one who didn’t bother with group projects unless she had to, who barely engaged in conversations beyond what was strictly necessary. other guys in the program talked about you, of course. they always did.

“frigid,” they called you. “too serious. probably thinks she’s better than us.”

they weren’t entirely wrong. you were better than most of them, but not for the reasons they assumed. satoru had read your work—papers that brimmed with insights that most of their half-baked theories could only dream of. he could tell you put in the effort in your classes and research, while all the guys left shit-talking had to rely on their grad student mentors to be able to write a legible paper. for fucks sake, he doesn’t even thing anyone could code in qiskit or cirq like you could; he had skimmed your notes once, left them behind after a lecture, and found them meticulous and sharp before he turned them into the professor to return to you.

and yet, despite the brilliance you carried with you, you had never given him a second glance.

that day at starbucks, though.

satoru rolled his head to the side, gaze drifting toward the window. he hadn’t expected to see anyone at five in the morning, let alone you. he’d been desperate for answers then—he had spent his night staring at his hands, which had seemed to keep ejecting spider-like webs after he’d been horribly sick. he knew he shouldn’t have gone fooling around in new york’s subway tunnels at 3am with suguru and shoko, but after a seemingly-harmless spider had bit him, he had been reeling from the discovery of his newfound powers and grappling with the weight of what they meant ever since.

and there you were, unlocking the starbucks, bleary-eyed but no less composed.

you’d handed him his coffee, not interested in him the entire time, and he remembered blurting something out—something ridiculous about fate or responsibility, his usual bravado faltering in the quiet of the moment. he had been spiraling, unsure of who he was anymore, and you’d said something.

what was it again?

“it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

the words had stayed with him, carved deep into the corners of his mind. you didn’t know it, but they had pulled him back from the edge that day. since then, he’d started noticing you in ways he hadn’t before.

the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. the furrow of your brow when you argued as respectfully as you could with a professor (gojo knew you were holding back, though, and the thought always made him smile to himself because if he wasn’t an idgafer he would be incensed like you at the idiotic teacher). the smile—rare, fleeting, but utterly disarming—that occasionally lit up your face when you talked to utahime or that guy you were too friendly around, nanami.

“you’re doing that thing again,” suguru said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“what thing?” satoru asked, sitting up straighter.

“brooding. you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“no.”

suguru arched an eyebrow. “you’re a terrible liar.”

satoru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine. maybe i am. but it’s complicated.”

“how is it complicated?”

“she doesn’t like me,” satoru said, shrugging. “at least, not as me. she likes spider-man.”

suguru blinked, clearly unimpressed. “you’re being stupid bro.”

“i’m not being stupid,” satoru argued. “she thinks spider-man’s this amazing, selfless hero. she doesn’t know i’m just some guy who can’t even figure out how to flirt with her without making an ass of himself.”

suguru leaned back in his chair, regarding satoru with an almost pitying look. “so let me get this straight. you’re worried that she only likes spider-man, even though spider-man is you. like it’s some kind of split personality thing?”

“well, when you put it like that—”

“it sounds dumb,” suguru finished. “because it is dumb.”

satoru glared at him, but suguru only shrugged. but how could he not think about you? even now, the memory of your voice—calm, steady, and unexpectedly warm—echoed in his head. you had this way of looking at him, like you were peeling back layers he didn’t even know he had. and that smile... he groaned inwardly. he wasn’t supposed to be so drawn to you, wasn’t supposed to imagine what it’d feel like to have you smile at him like that all the time.

“look,” suguru continued, “if you like her, shoot your shot. you’re already overthinking this, and you haven’t even done anything yet. what’s the worst that could happen? she says no?”

“or she laughs in my face,” satoru muttered.

“which would be deserved, honestly,” suguru said, smirking. “but seriously, you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.”

satoru didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the takeout boxes on the table. he wanted to believe suguru was right, but there was a small, stubborn part of him that wasn’t so sure.

because it wasn’t just about rejection, or even whether you liked him as satoru or spider-man. it was about what came after. if he let you in and something happened to you—if his double life brought danger to your doorstep—he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.

but then there was suguru’s voice in his head, steady and persistent: you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.

…

amidst a week of endless projects upon projects and other miscellaneous assignments from your research group partners (since the grad students loved to pile their work on top of you, the helpless undergrad), you find yourself nursing a hot chocolate while on top of your dormitory building’s roof.

you find sanctuary, coming on here for time to yourself whenever you find yourself stuck in a busy week. quiet, solitary, with a view of the city lights flickering like scattered fireflies. you hugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you stepped onto the roof, your laptop tucked under one arm, a mug of tea precariously balanced in the other hand. the air was crisp, biting just enough to sting your cheeks.

setting your mug down on the ledge, you perched beside it, pulling up your knees and balancing the laptop precariously as you typed. the words on the screen blurred after a while, blending into the chaos in your mind. frustrated, you closed it with a snap and leaned your head back to gaze at the stars.

“rough night?”

you startled, spinning your head around so fast your tea nearly toppled. but you can’t find anyone, just the sound of soft footsteps landing somewhere not visible to you.

“you scared the hell out of me,” you sighed, clutching your chest.

“sorry,” he said, though his tone didn’t sound all that apologetic. “didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“then maybe don’t sneak up on people like that,” you muttered, still trying to calm your racing heart.

he chuckled, and the sound was warmer than you’d expected. “noted. so, what’s got you out here at three in the morning? don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter.”

you sighed, the initial shock fading into a dull thrum of shyness. “it’s not an all-nighter if the night isn’t over yet.” then, you squint at a random spot, pretending it’s him. “besides, why are you here? shouldn’t you be out stopping robberies or saving cats from trees?”

“done and done,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ledge. “now i’m just enjoying the view.”

you turned your gaze back to the skyline, hoping the darkness hid the faint heat creeping up your neck. “so, what’s a guy like you doing on a random rooftop at three in the morning?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he countered.

you hesitated. for some reason, admitting the truth to him felt easier than admitting it to anyone else. “just…needed a break.”

“from?”

“everything,” you said, exhaling slowly. “classes. expectations. people.” you paused, then added with a faint smile, “not you, though. you’re an exception.”

“oh?” his voice lightened, carrying a hint of playful intrigue. “should i feel honored?”

“maybe,” you said. “it’s not every day you get to meet a real hero.” then, “okay, but why do you always hide in the dark?”

his voice is smug, meant to be playful. “it adds to the mystique?”

you pout. “what if i call the police?”

“it’s not like the cops can catch me anyways, baby. their shitty coffee and donut filled asses aren’t enough to keep up with me.”

you really try not to flush when he calls you that pet name. “is success getting to you?”

“what success? most i hear is everyone debating whether or not i should be experimented on.”

“really?” you teased. “that’s not what i saw on my for you page last time. there are girls out there who want you to sign their tits after you rescued that baby.”

then, you hear the soft thud of nimble feet dropping onto the ceiling and turn your head to see him in all his glory. he has a muscular figure highlighted in his white suit, blue and black lines traveling their way across his body. casually, he stretches and then drops down to the floor, sitting cross legged from across from you as if joining you in a regular gossip sesh. he puts his elbow on his knee and rests his head on his hand. “are you one of those girls?”

you laugh sheepishly, turning away as heat creeps up your face again and your heart hammers, because you can’t exactly tell him that, yes you’re absolutely enamored with him after he saved you that day and yes, you do indeed want him to sign your tits.

“you should do that more,” he said.

“what?” you look back at him, wide eyed in confusion.

“laugh.”

the way he said it, low and almost reverent, made your cheeks heat. you busy yourself with toying with your cardigan, scooting yourself away from the edge and closer to him. “and you should stop being such a flirt,” you said, though there was no bite in your voice.

“can’t help it,” he said, leaning closer. “it’s kind of my thing.”

“is that right?”

“mm-hmm.” he paused, then added, “you know, there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“what?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“take my mask off.”

the words hit you like a gut punch, dissolving the playfulness that had filled the air seconds ago. you blinked up at him, searching his face—or at least what you could see of it—for any sign that this was some elaborate joke. but there was no hint of humor, no smirk tugging at his lips. he meant it.

your fingers hovered at your sides, hesitant. “are you sure?” the question came out soft, barely audible, but it felt like it echoed in the quiet night.

“never been more sure of anything,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

you swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. slowly, almost against your better judgment, you reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of his mask. the fabric felt smooth, warm under your touch, but your nerves were anything but.

with a deep breath, you peeled it back. bit by bit, his face came into view—a shock of white hair, impossibly sharp features, and finally, those eyes. those unmistakable, infuriatingly familiar blue eyes. your breath caught, and for a moment, the world tilted sideways.

“gojo?”

the name fell from your lips before you could stop it, unsteady and disbelieving. your mind raced, trying to piece together the impossible puzzle that had just landed in front of you.

he grinned—that grin, the one that always made you want to slap it off his face and yet somehow managed to disarm you every single time. “hey.”

“hey?” your voice cracked as you took a step back. “that’s all you have to say? hey?”

“would you prefer, ‘surprise’?” he quipped, his grin widening as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

you laughed, the sound a little hysterical but real, like you couldn’t contain the storm of emotions rushing through you. “surprised? you’ve been… you’ve been spider-man this whole time?” the words felt foreign on your tongue, like they didn’t belong in the same sentence as gojo satoru—the one you’d argued with in class, the one who had no problem making you want to tear your hair out. and yet here he was, standing in front of you, the last person you ever would have suspected to be the city’s most infamous masked hero.

gojo gave you that crooked grin, the same one he wore when he thought he had won—when he thought he had it all figured out. “i know. it’s a lot to take in.”

you stared at him, trying to make sense of it, but no amount of logic could bridge the gap between the gojo you knew—the guy who drove you up the wall in class and always had a cocky comeback—and the masked hero who had saved you and the one you had a crush on.

you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry.

you take a shaky breath in, still trying to process everything. “you... you saved me, gojo. you’ve been right there, all these times, and i had no idea it was you.”

“guess i’m just that good at keeping secrets,” he said, his tone playful, but there was something more there, something softer, that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his eyes held a flicker of something—maybe vulnerability, maybe uncertainty.

the weight of the moment hung thick in the air between you, and for a long second, you didn’t know what to say. this revelation was like the ground beneath you had cracked wide open, and you were left staring into an abyss that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

finally, you shook your head, letting out a short breath. “this is insane.”

he didn’t seem bothered by your reaction, though his eyes darkened just slightly, the smirk still there, but with something a little more honest creeping into his expression. “yeah. but you’re handling it better than i thought. kinda thought you would faint, or something.”

the world had shifted, but somehow, with gojo now sitting in front of you like this, with the mask off and the man behind the myth revealed, it felt like the pieces were finally starting to fall into place. even if they didn’t make perfect sense yet.

and yet, something about his presence—his undeniable realness—felt oddly grounding. he wasn’t the invincible spider-man anymore. he was just gojo. the gojo who had somehow become more than just your academic rival, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than that.

something in gojo’s facial expression shifted to something a bit more hesitant, a little nervous as he stands and extend his arm out to you. softly, he asks, “do you trust me?”

“yes.” you took his hand, standing up as he flashes you a charming, yet mischievous grin, one so shit eating that you regret saying that. “why?”

“i’m taking you for a ride. consider it an apology for freaking you out earlier.”

you hesitated, looking between his outstretched hand and the city skyline just beyond your college campus. “i don’t think this is a good idea—”

“you trust me, don’t you?”

and somehow, against all logic, you realized that you did.

“fine,” you said, stepping closer to him to cling onto him.

he pulls you closer, and as he does so, he cranes his neck down to meet your eyes, smiling giddy. “anywhere you wanna go?”

you think for a moment, but know immediately the place where you’d like to visit that’s open at this ungodly hour. “do you know that one shawarma joint—-”

before you can even finish, the wind whips around you as gojo slips his mask back on, pulls you closer to him, and uses his free hand—that is, the one that’s not clinging onto your firmly—to shoot a glistening web, one that you saw when he used it on the man who harassed you in the ally. it clings onto a nearby building, and then you’re off the ground, soaring through the air.

you let out a scream of terror against gojo’s chest, tightening your arms around him. you can feel a laugh rumble in his chest, a boyish chuckle as he peers down at you and shouts, “are you having fun?”

“gojo,” you whine, burying your head into his chest further. despite your initial fear, exhilaration creeps its way into you as you the city blur, skyline jumping and dipping as gojo effortlessly swung you both around.

when he finally stopped, landing gracefully on a secluded rooftop, you were breathless—not just from the ride but from the way he was looking at you.

“you good?” he laughed, panting from the exertion and tenderly using his hand to rake his hand through your hair, which, you note out of embarrassment, must’ve been messed up from the wind passing through it.

“i hate that you made me dizzy, but yea, i’m good,” you mumble, pulling out your phone to open your camera, fixing your hair.

when you’re done, gojo looks at you with the manic buzz you can only have at 3am. “ready to get some shawarma?”

…

the streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence only a city at 3am could have. just the two of you, your footsteps echoing against the pavement, the occasional glow of a streetlamp painting your path.

“okay, that shawarma was like, mid at best,” gojo walks alongside you. he’s thrown on a sweatshirt and gray sweatpants over his suit, walking alongside you on the street. your stomachs are full, and you suggested a walk to be able to digest the bigass bowl you both ate.

“nothing tastes better than something you’re eating when you’re supposed to be studying, instead,” you shot back, hiding your little smile as you cross your arms while strolling. the shift between you and gojo was so jarring that you’re still reeling at it, but what is 3am if not for big life changes?

“yea, that’s fair,” he sighs, crossing his hands behind his head as he continues strolling beside you. “so,” he continues, “now that i’ve officially blown your mind with my secret identity and fed you some incredibly mid shawarma, what’s next? should i fly you to paris, or is that too cliché?”

you roll your eyes, but deep inside, you’re really biting back a grin. “relax, bugboy. maybe first let me recover from being swung like a human pendulum.”

gojo stopped walking, turning to face you with a playful glint in his eye. “you’re still thinking about that, huh? admit it—you loved it.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i screamed into your chest for a solid ten seconds. does that sound like love to you?”

he tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “i dunno. there’s a fine line between terror and thrill. and judging by how tightly you were holding onto me…”

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your voice lacked bite.

“and yet, you’re still here.”

his words hung in the air, the playful edge softening into something quieter, more sincere. your steps faltered, and you looked up at him, the absurdity of the night fading into the background as your gaze held his.

“guess i’m curious,” you admitted.

“curious, huh?” he said, taking a step closer. “careful. curiosity killed the cat.”

without thinking, you blurted, “at least i’ve got a fifty-fifty shot, right?” the words barely left your mouth before the regret hit, your inner voice screaming at you for making a lame quantum mechanics joke at a time like this. schrödinger would be proud, you thought bitterly.

but then gojo laughed—not the teasing, obnoxious kind of laugh or the weird look you’d expect, but a genuine, boyish chuckle that reached his eyes. he smiled at you, soft and unguarded, and suddenly, the space between you seemed to shrink.

the flickering streetlamp cast a warm, uneven glow over the two of you. in that moment, the sprawling city felt impossibly small, narrowed down to just him and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

gojo reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “you know,” he murmured, his voice low, “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.”

your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest. “do what?”

“this.”

before you could respond, he closed the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both soft, yet electrifying. for a moment, time seemed to stop, the city around you fading into nothing as the warmth of his touch anchored you in the moment.

when he finally pulled back, his grin was back in full force. “so, was that better or worse than shawarma?”

you blinked at him, still trying to find your footing in the aftermath of what just happened. an immediate feeling of bashfulness crept over you because not only did you just kiss spiderman, you just kissed gojo. there are girls who would kill to be in your position, and that makes you flustered as you turn your head away from him so you don’t have to make eye contact. “i hate you,” you mumble half heartedly, cheeks burning.

gojo doesn’t let you off so easily. his thumb brushes gently along your chin, coaxing your face back toward his. his touch is warm, deliberate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“oh my god,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “are you embarrassed? you’re so cute.”

when the warmth of his hand leaves your chin, you open your eyes, shocked as you find out that he’s nowhere to be seen. you call out a tentative, “gojo?”

somewhere behind you, to the left, comes out a muffled shout. “i’m here!” you whip around, your brows furrowing as you follow the direction of his voice. it’s coming from an alley just off the street, dark and bathed in shadows.

“seriously?” you mutter under your breath, your annoyance half-hearted, making your way toward the sound. you find yourself at the mouth of the alley, the dim glow of a distant lamp barely illuminating his silhouette.

gojo’s perched on the side of the wall like it’s the most natural thing in the world, one leg propped up, his mask pulled halfway up to reveal that damn smirk. “you’re slow,” he teases, his tone light and infuriatingly smug.

“what are you doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.

he gestures toward himself. “you came looking for me, didn’t you?”

you roll your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself. “what, did you think i’d just leave you lurking in some alley like a creepy insect?”

“well,” he says, shooting a web to stick on the bottom of some stairs of one of the buildings to hang upside down, “you could’ve left, but i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

before you could retort, he shoots his web closer to something on top of you, now dangling upside down yet again but his proximity even closer, stealing the air from your lungs. his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just long enough to make your knees feel unsteady.

“so,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “are we doing this again, or are you gonna keep pretending you hate me?”

your heart stutters, but before you can overthink it, you pull his mask down even further to uncover more of his lips, and you join them together—this time, softer, slower, as if savoring the moment. you grab at his chin to pull him closer to you, you both sighing into the kiss, and then smiling giddily each time you pull back, only to come back in.

and just like that, you start to fall into…something with not only the vigilante that’s swinging around new york, but also gojo satoru, your long-time rival.

…

when satoru swings by your dorm next, he doesn’t expect his heart to lurch so much at the view of you so cozy.

it’s undeniable; you and satoru have been dancing around each other. you’re not exactly a hook-up to each other—you two haven’t had sex—but you’re not exactly girlfriend and boyfriend. and it’s not something casual, either. he doesn’t reveal that he’s spiderman just to get into girls’ pants.

you’ve both developed a sort of rapport, he supposes. it’s been stolen glances during phys401 and late nights spent talking or, occasionally, making out. you’ve even started to nurse his wounds, if he ever shows up with bruises and blood matting his suit. one of the perks of you having a single.

he’s even fallen asleep overnight, especially on friday nights when he doesn’t have lecture in the morning. some of his things, like some spare equipment and suits, have even found their way into your closet.

you’re both on a dangerous roller coaster, and satoru is closing his eyes on the fall down.

but right now, he’s perched outside your window like a creep. you’re sitting on your bed, cross-legged and squinting at something on your laptop, and satoru smiles to himself as he sees your tank top and shorts and just how homey you look. you probably know satoru is coming, but you’re so comfortable around him that it makes his heart ache. he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop.

satoru lightly taps on your window, his knuckle brushing against the glass softly, not wanting to startle you. you glance up, catching sight of him, and there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips.

you get up, and satoru follows the movement of your bare legs with his eyes as you slide the window open. “you know, most people knock on doors like normal humans,” you say.

“i like to keep things interesting,” he shoots back, climbing in effortlessly. the faint chill from the night clings to him, and his hair is slightly disheveled from the wind.

he glances around your room, catching sight of your scattered notes and the distinct look of frustration etched across your face. “what’s got you looking so miserable?”

“phys401,” you reply with a resigned sigh, flopping back onto your bed. “this problem set is impossible.”

satoru smirks, peeling off his gloves and mask and plopping down beside you. “let me see.”

acquiescing, you hand over your notebook, watching as he scans your work with intent, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to understand the statement to prove. he makes a few thoughtful noises, before grabbing a pen and scribbling something down. “here,” he says after a moment, “you’re overcomplicating this step. instead of doing the tensor product you did, you could just make this zero by taking an inner product, since they’re orthogonal states. the rest will fall into place.”

you squint at his messy, rushed handwriting, and sure enough, the proof seems to come together. “how are you so good at this?”

“physics prodigy, remember?” he teases, leaning back on his hands as he lays down on your bed.

“thanks for the help,” you say softly, your eyes lingering on him a beat too long. he’s kind of dreamy, you think. the moonlight filters across your window, giving his platinum hair a sheen as his cerulean eyes look into yours with kindness.

his smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something unspoken. “anytime.” he then makes a show of stretching out his limbs, purposely bumping into you with one eye open smugly to observe your reaction, to which you glare at him. he spots your notebook, picks it up, and flips through it. “you know, for someone who complains so much about phys401, you’re not half bad at it,” he teases, scribbling something in the margin of your notes by grabbing a stray pen next to him.

you roll your eyes, shifting so you’re cross-legged on the bed, facing him. “not all of us are physics prodigies, satoru. some of us actually have to work hard.”

he chuckles, handing the notebook back to you. “hard work is overrated when you can just charm your way through everything.”

you snort and joke, “if charm was all it took, i’d have aced the midterm.”

there’s a beat of silence as you glance down at his notes. he’s corrected a mistake you hadn’t even noticed, and his scrawled proof flows so effortlessly it makes you a little envious. “how do you do that?” you ask, more to yourself than him.

“do what?”

“make it look so… easy,” you say, frowning slightly. “everything. physics, life, swinging through the city.”

satoru leans back on his palms, his smirk softening. “trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks.”

you glance up at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. “what do you mean?”

he shrugs, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze flickers away from yours. “i mean, everyone sees the guy with the jokes and the perfect test scores, but no one sees the late nights or the bruises.” he gestures vaguely to his chest, where you know the bruises from his spider-man escapades hide. “guess i’m just good at pretending.”

you sit with his words, the weight of them settling between you. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you say softly.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the mask—the real one—drops. “i know,” he says, just as softly.

the air between you feels heavier, like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, the faint smell of the night clinging to him, the way his knee brushes against yours.

“thanks,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “for letting me be here. for…” he trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up.

your breath catches. “satoru…”

“yeah?” he says, leaning in slightly, his voice lower now.

“i…” you trail off, not even sure what you were going to say.

he leans closer, and it feels like everything around you stills. his hand finds its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “can i?” he asks, his voice barely audible.

you nod, and then his lips are on yours.

the kiss starts tentative, almost shy, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. it deepens, his hand sliding to your waist as you pull him closer. the tension that had been building for weeks—months, maybe—finally snaps, leaving nothing but heat and want in its wake.

his weight presses you back into the bed, and you can feel his heart racing against yours as he pins you to the bed, now on top of you. his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and as his thumb traces shapes into your circle and closer to more sensitive areas, a sigh escapes you.

that’s when he freezes.

he pulls back, his breathing uneven, his eyes wide and filled with something like fear. “we can’t,” he says, his voice hoarse.

your heart drops into your chest.

“why not?” you ask, trying to catch your breath.

“because,” he says, sitting up and running a hand through his hair and he’s heaving. “because i’m spider-man, and you—” he breaks off, looking anywhere but at you. “you deserve better than this. better than me.”

you sit up, pulling your shirt back into place and looking at him, hurt. “that’s not your call to make, satoru.”

“i’m trying to protect you!” he says, his voice rising in agitation. he sits back onto his heels, raking a hand through his hair as he looks at the ceiling, as if in pain.

you can’t believe him. his self-righteousness irritates you to no end, especially after you’ve bared your soul, and now your body to him, something you considered intimate. you feel conflicted—whatever you had, it didn’t have a label. but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want that to be true. badly.

“and who asked you to?” you snap back. “i’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving.”

“i know that,” he says, his tone softening. “but if something happened to you because of me…” he shakes his head. “i couldn’t live with that.”

the anger bubbling in your chest boils over, and you snap. “so what? you’re just going to walk away? after everything?”

he stands, his expression pained. “i’m sorry,” he says, heading for the window.

“don’t you dare apologize,” you say, your voice trembling as you stand by the foot of your bed, hating how your eyes brim with tears. “if you leave, don’t bother coming back.”

he pauses, his hand on the window frame, before glancing back at you. “i’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, before slipping out into the night.

the window clicks shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence, the ache in your chest threatening to swallow you whole.

…

the whir of the espresso machine and the gentle hum of background music fill the mostly empty starbucks, the occasional customer wandering in like clockwork. it’s a quiet shift, the kind you’d usually relish—except today, the quiet only makes the knot in your chest tighten.

you’re stationed behind the counter, staring blankly at the milk steamer as it hisses, lost in your thoughts. that is, until utahime’s voice breaks through.

“alright, spill,” she says, leaning her elbows on the counter beside you.

you glance at her, eyebrows raised. “spill what?”

utahime rolls her eyes, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “oh, please. you look like someone stole your favorite pen and broke it in half. what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you lie, turning back to the steamer. “i’m fine.”

utahime’s skeptical gaze bores into you. “you’re a terrible liar. nanami, back me up.”

from his spot at a nearby table, nanami looks up from his book, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto you. “it’s boy trouble,” he says flatly, like he’s solving an equation.

your head snaps toward him, a glare already forming. “excuse me?”

“it’s obvious,” he says, setting his book down and regarding you with his usual piercing gaze. “you’re distracted, you look upset—it’s boy trouble.”

utahime perks up, leaning closer. “wait, is he right? is this about a guy?”

you let out a groan, leaning your elbows on the counter. “can you two not gang up on me right now?”

“so it is a guy,” utahime says, her tone turning smug.

“i didn’t say that,” you retort, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.

nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. “you might as well just tell us. it’s not like we’re going to let it go.”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “fine. it’s… someone i liked. someone i thought liked me too. but he freaked out and said it was too…dangerous to keep going.”

utahime frowns, her curiosity replaced by concern while kento snorts. “dangerous? what does that even mean?”

“that’s what i’d like to know,” you say bitterly, the frustration bubbling up as you speak. “he acts like he cares, but the second things get serious, he bolts. like i’m some fragile thing that can’t handle it.”

nanami leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “he might not be scared of you. he could be scared of what it means for him. of responsibility and commitment. some people run when they feel too much.”

utahime nods, her hand resting gently on your arm. “whatever his problem is, it’s not fair to you. if he can’t get it together, that’s on him, not you.”

you glance between them, the weight of their words settling in your chest. “i know that,” you say quietly. “it just… sucks.”

“of course it does,” utahime says, her voice soft but firm. “but you’re not the problem here. don’t let him make you think you are.”

nanami picks up his book again but pauses before opening it. “and don’t let him live rent-free in your head. if he can’t see what he’s giving up, that’s his loss.”

their support feels grounding, like a steady hand in the middle of a storm. you manage a small smile, nodding. “thanks, guys.”

“anytime,” utahime says, flashing you a reassuring grin. nanami simply nods, returning to his book but keeping an eye on you like always. for the first time all week since gojo left your room, the heaviness in your chest feels a little lighter.

…

the knock at your window is faint, almost timid, but it jolts you out of your daze. you sit up in bed, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the window. it’s late—so late it’s early—and for a moment, you think you imagined it. you hate to admit it, but because of your boy troubles you haven’t been able to sleep all week. you’re also no stranger to imagining ants crawling up your body or phantom noises, so you adjust in your bed, trying to go back to sleep.

then it comes again, a little louder this time.

you throw off the blanket and pad over, the chill of the floor biting at your bare feet. when you pull the curtain aside, your breath catches.

satoru.

he’s crouched outside, his suit torn in places and soaked with blood. his head lolls slightly, like he’s barely holding himself up, and when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, it’s tired and pleading.

you don’t think—there’s no time for that. you unlatch the window and shove it open, reaching out to help him inside. “satoru, oh my god,” you breathe, your voice shaking.

“hey,” he mutters, his grin weak but still so unmistakably him. “sorry for the mess.”

“shut up,” you snap, guiding him onto your bed and setting him down with gentle hands, ones that contrast your tone with him. “what the hell happened?”

“nothing i couldn’t handle,” he says, wincing as he tries to sit up straighter and flashes you a sheepish smile. “you should see the other guy.”

“you’re bleeding everywhere, satoru. you clearly didn’t handle it.” you grab your first aid kit from under the bed and yank it open, your hands trembling.

“i’ve had worse,” he murmurs, but his bravado is thin, cracking at the edges.

“stop talking,” you say, your voice trembling and cracking. “just—just stop.”

for once, you thank the gods that he listens.

you work quickly, cutting away the shredded fabric of his suit and cleaning the worst of the wounds. it’s not pretty—his torso is littered with bruises and gashes, the kind that make your stomach turn—but you keep your focus.

when you press a disinfectant-soaked pad to a particularly deep cut, he hisses, his hand flying to grab your wrist.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him with a tender look in your eyes. his expression matches yours, and your faces are so close to each other that you can’t bear it anymore, going back to your work.

his fingers loosen but don’t let go, his grip warm and grounding. “you’re good at this,” he says softly, his voice rough.

“yeah, well,” you mutter, ducking your head to avoid his gaze. “you’ve given me plenty of practice.”

the silence stretches as you finish bandaging him up. when you’re done, you sit back, your hands still trembling as you place them in your lap. “you’re an idiot,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

he laughs, soft and hoarse. “yeah. i get that a lot from this girl i know.”

you look up at him, and the weight of everything—his injuries, his secret, the distance he tried to put between you—crashes over you. “you can’t keep doing this, satoru. you can’t keep pushing me away just to show up like this.”

his smile fades, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “i know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know, but…”

“but what?” you demand, your voice cracking. “you’re spider-man? you think that’s an excuse to keep shutting me out?”

“it’s not an excuse,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair, matted with even more blood. his or someone else’s, you’re not sure. “it’s a reason. i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“you think i’m not already hurting?” you snap, the anger bubbling to the surface yet again. “you think it doesn’t kill me to see you like this and know i can’t do anything to stop it?”

his eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like a little boy, lost and unsure. it is then that it hits you that he’s just twenty. a college student, not someone who’s wanted by the cia or someone who’s battled terrorists. for fucks sake, he can’t even legally drink.

and your heart can’t help but melt as he says, “i just… i don’t want to lose you.”

“then stop trying to,” you say, your voice softer now. “stop pretending like you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length. let me in, satoru.”

he stares at you, his breath hitching like he’s holding back a thousand words. then, in a rush, he closes the distance between you, his hands cradling your face as he presses his forehead to yours.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.”

you exhale shakily, your hands finding their way to his wrists. “just stop being an idiot, okay? stop trying to do this alone.”

he nods, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “i promise,” he says, and for the first time, you believe him.

…

a cramp gripping satoru’s entire leg is what wakes him up.

he winces in memory of the injury; one of those stupid terrorists had too good of an aim, grazing his leg while he was mid-air. it hurts like a bitch now, and he moves to lay on his back, until something stops him. roses.

he looks, bleary eyed, to you. the floral scent coming from you, making him dizzy. his body cocooning yours.

you both unconsciously moved in your sleep so that you were spooning, your fragrant hair, soft from shampooing, tickling his throat with your ass in his crotch.

nestled right against his morning wood.

good fucking lord, he groans to himself, then starts to panic because if you wake up and realize he had a raging hard-on while you were sleeping, you would definitely think he was a creep. he’s already on thin fucking ice. so naturally, he starts to recite the star spangled banner while trying to will his boner away.

oh, say can you see—

to no avail, because you huff softly in your sleep, soft and warm body unconsciously leaning back to grind your ass against his lap, turning his dick to steel.

“oh, fuck,” he curses out loud, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face and clench his eyes shut. you feel so sweet, innocently adjusting while he can’t even control his lust for you.

but once the grind seems to continue for a bit too long, more than what can be chalked up as adjusting in your sleep, he peers down at you. you’re awake.

and because satoru’s selfish, his hands creep up your tank top, settling on your bare stomach, where he knew you were ticklish. as a result, you wiggle, and he uses this opportunity to pull you even closer to him, right up against him.

“baby,” he says, making his voice all deep and sighs on purpose, just to be unfair to you. “is this okay?”

you whine, and he settles his face in your hair, the strands of it tickling his skin as he inhales in the scent of you. “i thought it was a dream.”

he smiles into your hair. you make him feel like sunshine incarnate, and the rush he’s getting right now is akin to the one he gets jumping off the empire state building. “no, this is very real.”

“hm,” and you continue to drag your ass into him, murmuring in a soft voice that makes him want to take you right there and then, “it still feels like a dream. like you’re not real, right now.”

oh, what he would do to make you say his name in that same voice; he wants to whisper all the things he wants to do to you right now. “i know, baby. you feel like a dream.” his hands continue to slide up and up your torso, groaning at your sharp intake as he gently fondles the softness of your breasts.

you overwhelm his senses, teasing him, and when you let out a whine of his name, satoru snaps.

“i’m going to make you feel good right now. tell me if it’s a fucking dream,” he grits out, ignoring whatever cramps that were screaming at him to get on top of you.

you gasp out a “satoru,” wriggling in his grasp, and he can’t take it anymore. he brings up one of his hands. shoots a web that lands right on your left hand. then your right hand.

satoru just tied you up using his webs.

you look at him in whatever version of shock you can muster in your tired state. “satoru, what the—” but you’re muffled, because he’s kissing you, hard, roving his hands up and down your body and grabbing whatever he can as if he’s devouring you while making out with you.

“do you know,” and his eyes flash dangerously while looking down at yours, “how you’ve teased me with these shorts?” his hands trails down to the waistband of the offending piece of clothing, pulling it to make it snap against your skin. you jump, looking at satoru desperately, who’s left you bare at his mercy, subject to his super human strength as he grabs your shorts with both his hands again. “every fucking time i’ve sneaked up in to your room, it’s been so hard to not fuck you senseless in these flimsy things. it’s only fair you pay the price, right baby?”

it’s not like you have anything to answer him with, having lost all brain cells being fucked out like this. he pulls them down, and if he had laser vision, he would have stared through your panties long ago, eyes fixated on the crotch that was nearly translucent with the amount of slick going through it. burying his face right in between your thighs, he noses at your cunt before groaning. then, he uses his teeth to grab onto the middle and pull. until your pussy is bare to him.

“oh, fuck you’re so pretty,” he curses, lapping at your sweetness. his tongue roves up and down your folds, and if your hands could, they would be pulling at his hair solely because you were so sensitive. but you were trapped, thighs gripped in his strong hands and your arms trapped by his ultra-strong webs. “my good girl.”

then, you feel pressure at your opening. “sato—” you squeal but are immediately interrupted by your own moan as he curls his long, thick fingers, eyes observing your every movement as you squirm, electric shocks running up and down your body as he hits your spot dead-on.

and he notices, because the motherfucker chuckles. “oh, so that’s the spot, huh?” he purrs, visibly pleased as he memorizes it and abuses it, hitting it with every stroke. you barely notice him add one finger, add two fingers as he starts to suck on your clit. overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re only brought back to reality when he rips all contact away from you.

“what—” you mumble mindlessly, until you see what he’s doing. he pulls his sweatpants down. and he’s not wearing boxers, so you drool when his cock springs out, leaking copiously and hard. without taking his eyes off you, he pumps it to its fullest length, and you’re just staring in awe at its sheer length.

“what’re you looking at, baby?” he teases, using his hand to wiggle his cock in front of your face to mock you. “want it so bad, isn’t that right?”

you glare at him half-heartedly, but whine regardless. “just put it in, gojo.”

“oh,” and he flashes you a smile that makes a big danger sign in red flash across your mind. “it’s gojo, now is it?”

“satoru,” there are tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, the ones that make satoru even more aroused at your want, “please. i need it.”

a boyish grin and a forehead kiss that has you reeling at his duality. “anything for my woman in stem.” with that, he pushes in, both of your eyes rolling back as his cock is engulfed by your gummy walls. soon after, he starts thrusting, desperation fueling both of you as you cross your legs behind gojo’s back, the deeper angle making his thighs shake while fucking into you.

he grabs your face, gives you a tender kiss. “fuck, i love this pussy. so sweet for me.”

you give him a wanton moan in return as he continues to thrust deep, tender strokes into you. “satoru, ‘m not gonna last long.” with the amount of foreplay he’s done alongside how sensitive you are, you’re steadily reaching your orgasm already, and with the way satoru’s now tightly gripping the sheets beside you while thrusting inside you, he is too.

wet squelching noises echoes across the room, and you know the neighbors can hear the obscene plap! plap! plap! coming from skin meeting skin, your hips against his. he buries his face into your neck, panting at your ear until he uses his hand to wrench your face towards his.

“i love you,” he groans, forcing your eyes to meet his. “i love you forever and will do so. so you can’t break my heart,” and he’s desperately thrusting again, “and you can’t leave me. please.”

at his confession, you break, back arching as you also squeal out a iloveyou while gasping loudly, hips rolling to rise against his as he fucks you through your orgasm. quickly, his thrusts veer into overstimulation and you whine. “toru.” he takes one look at your state—face impossibly flushed, hands tied, and pussy absolutely engulfing his cock, and his orgasm hits him like a truck, making him gasp and bend and break as he goes to heaven and back with the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy clench around him so beautifully. his cum enters you in hot spurts, making you exhale sharply at the feeling as he comes down from his orgasm, collapsing next to you.

for a few minutes, heavy breathing fills the room, both of you catching your breaths. until satoru breaks the silence. “so, what’s it like to fuck a superhero?”

you take one look at him—all smug and propped up on his elbow—and spidey sense be damned as you try grab a pillow. key word is try because you’re then wrenched back with a reminder that you’re still bound. “satoru,” and you give him a sickly sweet smile, the one that he knows means he’s in trouble, “when are these going to dissolve?”

and satoru pretends to be deep in thought, but you can see him trying to inch off the bed slowly, as if to escape your wrath after his answer. “uhm…maybe five hours?”

if it weren’t for the damn spidey sense that he had, he wouldn’t have been able to escape the swing of your legs as you looked at him murderously. “satoru gojo you will unhand me from these webs this instant—-“

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, shit eating grin in his face. “you look kinda sexy in bed like this. mad at me.” but when your eyes flash with anger, he hiccups nervously, telltale of the fact he won’t mess with you.

“i hate you,” you groan out, pouting like a petulant child while you glare at the ceiling.

satoru comes close to you to bend at his waist and give you a forehead kiss. “no, you don’t.”

you give him a pointed glare, telling him not to be testy. “clean me up. now.”

at your expression, his eyes widen in fear and he salutes. “anything for you, ma’am.”

at his retreating form, you giggle and sigh to yourself. you never would’ve known that spider-man would be the one fetching a clean up rag for you after fucking the shit out of you, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

when satoru comes back, he cleans you up, tenderly, as if he is afraid that you will break. you’re a little drowsy when he returns to you, but he doesn’t dare try to wake you up when he hears little breaths from your nose indicating you’ve fallen asleep. after he finishes his job, he admires your features.

satoru lingers for a moment, his gaze softening as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. the weight of his responsibilities presses on him, as it always does, but tonight, it feels heavier—like a tether pulling him between the life he’s chosen and the life he craves.

you, so peaceful in sleep, represent something fragile, something precious. and that terrifies him. because what if he fails? what if the cost of being spider-man is losing the one thing that feels real?

still, he knows he can’t walk away—not from this city, not from you. with a deep breath, he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead, a silent promise lingering in his chest.

“i’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, barely audible. “no matter what.”

instead of leaving, satoru settles down beside you, careful not to disturb your rest. the city can wait, just for a little while. for now, he wraps an arm around you, grounding himself in the warmth of your presence. as your breathing evens out against him, he lets his own eyes drift shut, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifting. today, he chooses to stay.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n ok if you're ever curious what being fucked in the ass with a wooden dildo no lube is like, just try to write this fic or any longfic. it's 4am, this a/n is short and unintelligble just like most of this fic but it's been a journey, im very sentimental because of this fic and i hope you guys like it. ok im going to pass out so pls ignore all typos xoxo but please flood my inbox im excited to see yalls reactions when i wake up

plspls pls comment and reblog!!!

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits @ramonathinks

@creamflix

#aashi writes #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru

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jjunieworld · 6 months ago

Text

MEET ME AT OUR SPOT ˒˒ 심재윤 ▸ part one of the player’s game series⌇playlist & series tag

with the news of your grandma’s depleting health, life has you moving to your mother’s seaside hometown for the summer to your aunt’s. while there, you meet the illustrious player—jake sim—that everyone can’t seem to stop talking about. what you never expected was to gain his attention and spend the three months you’re there falling for him.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 jungwon, lifeguard!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, fluff, strangers to temporary lovers, beach au, summer fling/summer love, lifeguard!jake, blonde!jake, kindaaa slow burn, h2o jokes references (i had to), slice of life, lifeguarding & surfing inaccuracies, reader is jungwon’s cousin

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ player!jake, toxic!jake, soft dom!jake, subtle manipulation, reader and hana almost drown once, mentions of reader’s dad passing (before story) and grandma’s depleting health, alcohol, skinny dipping, corruption kink, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, unprotected sex (condoms!), fingering, oral fixation, oral (f. rec), semi-public sex?, jake is jealous and a little possessive, he’s also lowkey a munch, hair pulling, cum eating?, petnames (baby, pretty), praise, jake talks you through it, creampie, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, dumbification, marking

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ this is mainly for @jjunberry (who held me at gunpoint to make this fic about jake), so echo i hope you enjoy!! ♡ i might make a part two,,, not sure! i have some ideas for it, but it depends on how everyone is feeling! >ㅅ< let me know what you think!! divider is by @/cafekitsune :D i hope you all enjoy!!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ 22k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

your mom nudged you awake just as the plane was beginning to land. you rubbed your bleary eyes and blinked rapidly to try and get your eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. nudging you again, your mom said, “wake up, we’re about to land.”

rolling your sore neck out, you sat up in your chair and looked around the plane at all the other passengers preparing themselves for the landing. you sighed softly to yourself, you never really liked planes—not that you’ve been on many. you were flying from the small town you called home to the small seaside hometown of your mother’s on the request of your aunt.

your aunt’s phone call still replayed in your head. you and your mom were in the middle of making lunch together when she got it. with a smile, your mom answered her sister’s call. “yes, older sister, is there a reason you’re interrupting my day?” your mom asked playfully.

her grin quickly vanished and through the phone you could hear your aunt say, “it’s mom… the doctors say she isn’t getting better…”

your mom turned you with a worried expression. you had stirred the contents of the pot on the stove before turning fully to your mom, brows furrowed. fear sank deep into your chest at the thought of your grandma not getting better. surely there was something else the doctors could do, right?

stepping up beside your mom at the kitchen island, you listened in to what your aunt was saying. “they’re trying everything they can. some things work—and she starts getting better—but some things don’t,” you could hear your aunt's voice start to wobble.

your aunt then quickly changed the subject away from your grandma’s depleting health, “why don’t you and y/n come down here for the summer? see grandma, jungwon, and i? it’s been so long since i’ve seen you both!”

you thought about the last time you saw your aunt and cousin. it was at your dad’s funeral—where you and your aunt had desperately tried to keep your mom together. it would be nice if you made a new, happier memory with them.

“oh…” your mom spoke, looking over to your place next to her. you could tell she was trying hard not to break in front of you. “we’ll be there.”

you and your mom were in your aunt’s car now after she had picked the two of you up from the airport. your head was resting against the glass as you peered out to the coastal scenery. you’ve never been to your mom’s hometown before. you had asked her once—sometime after your father’s death—and the sadness in her eyes made you regret asking. it was where your parents met. your father was visiting and the rest is history.

[ YOU HAD ME AT “HELLO” — 1ST MONTH ] ✈︎ ninety-two days until you return home.

your aunt pulled up to her and your mom’s childhood home where you could see your cousin, jungwon, waiting for you all on the porch. jungwon jogged up to the car just as you were exiting it, “y/nie! it’s been so long since i last saw you. did your head get bigger?”

“shut up!” you said, playfully pushing your cousin away from you. you put a finger to your chin in thought, “hmm, did you get shorter? i swear you were taller the last time i saw you.”

jungwon put a hand to his chest in mock hurt as he playfully rolled his eyes with a grin. he helped you and your mom get your luggage out from the car and drag it all inside.

you were staying in your mom’s childhood bedroom for the summer. although most of her decorations from her teen years had been taken down, you could still see the remnants of your mom in the room. you piled up your suitcases near the closet and dresser, turning to jungwon with a huff as you tried to catch your breath.

“we should head down to the beach after you’re done settling in! you said you’ve never been in the ocean, right?” jungwon asked you. you nodded in reply. you were excited to swim in the ocean and check out what the boardwalk had to offer.

“we should, that sounds fun!” you exclaimed. he then left and you started the lengthy process of turning the bedroom into your own for the summer. it didn’t help that you also overpacked. you couldn’t really tell what to bring and what not to bring to a small seaside town, so you kind of brought everything.

once you finished unpacking and taking a quick visit to your grandma’s room to greet her, you met jungwon in the living room. he was sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. once he heard your approaching footsteps he looked up. “ready to go?” he asked you.

“ready to go,” you repeated with a nod. you had dressed in your bathing suit and cover before leaving your room and you saw that jungwon had done the same. he was clad in swim trunks with a black shirt. nerves bubbled in you about swimming in the ocean for the first time but you tried to not let anxious thoughts overwhelm you.

you and jungwon were making the short walk down to the ocean, which your aunt thankfully didn’t live too far from, when you caught sight of the boardwalk and marveled at all the shops and people around. you and jungwon laid your towels down in the sand and made your way straight to the bright blue water. squealing as jungwon flicked the cold water at you, you pushed your hands forward to splash him back. you then dunked completely under the water to try and get used to the coldness faster.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed as you surfaced, teeth chattering and body shivering, “i wasn’t expecting the water to be this cold!” you guessed that it was quite nice with the harsh heat of the summer sun beating down on you. jungwon’s laugh filled your ears as he splashed water at you again.

you weren’t the best of swimmers, that fact being very obvious to jungwon once he saw you doggy paddling in the water. you mostly stuck close to the shore, not wanting your feet to not be able to touch the ground. slowly, jungwon got you further and further out to try and help you swim better. it wasn’t working that well.

“i swear if i end up drowning out here because you’re a shitty swim teacher, i’m coming back to haunt you so bad!” you shouted to jungwon as you dipped under the water with the small oncoming wave. jungwon laughed hard, “don’t be mad at me because you’re a shitty swim student! besides, there’s like three lifeguards on the beach right now.”

jungwon motioned back to the shore at the three lifeguards. you turned to look, their small figures elevated from the rest of the crowd. one of them blew their whistle at some kid trying to drown another kid. distantly, you heard him yell, “stop trying to drown her before i kick you off the beach!”

you turned back to jungwon, “they seem preoccupied.”

jungwon shook his head with a smile. “well i’m kind of hungry… i’m gonna go get something to eat. you coming with or staying in the water?” jungwon asked you. you thought it over for a moment. you weren’t particularly hungry. “i’ll stay in the water. you know, hone my swimming skills while you’re gone,” you replied.

“don’t drown!” jungwon said as he began making his way to the shore. you scoffed playfully at him. once you were alone in the water, you started trying to actually swim a little. you decided that you wanted to test yourself to see what you learned by going further out in the ocean.

you were swimming, pretending to be a mermaid and going absolutely nowhere when all of a sudden a bigger wave than normal came rushing towards you. you noticed it a second too late and it crashed into you, causing you to submerge in the water.

just as you surfaced, gasping for air, another wave hit you and submerged you again. you hands grasped at air and your lungs burned as your ears rang. you didn’t know how long you spent being pummeled by the water until you felt arms wrap around you.

you were flipped onto your back as they pulled you to the surface. sputtering and gasping, you were finally able to inhale properly and bring oxygen back to your lungs. you tried to move but your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and you couldn’t help closing your eyes from the bright sun.

your back hit a hard surface and you cracked your eyes open to see that you were on a surfboard. “i got you, don’t worry,” a male voice, who you were assuming was one of the lifeguards, said above you. you started to cough violently as you held on for dear life to the surfboard. “thank you,” you managed to whisper hoarsely.

“no worries!” he responded breezily. you could feel him paddle you back to shore. you focused on taking deep breaths and trying to still your racing heart. you could’ve died back there all because you got cocky. if the lifeguard didn’t rescue you when he did you would’ve drowned.

once you both got back to the shore the lifeguard gave you a once over to ensure everything was all right. he pushed the blonde hair off his forehead as he spoke to you, “are you okay?”

you nodded weakly and said a bit flusteredly, “i think so, yes. thank you again, truly!” he flashed a bright smile at you and you couldn’t help but notice how cute he was. it almost made you want to jump back into the water and purposefully sink to the bottom so he would come and save you again.

“maybe you should stay out of the water for a while,” he said with a smile, “especially if you’re alone.” just at that moment you heard your name being shouted, the sound getting closer and closer to you. it was your cousin and you could hear the worry in his voice.

“oh my god, y/n!” jungwon exclaimed as he bent down towards you in the sand. he kept repeating what he said a couple times as he inspected you. you had to push his hands away and tell him that you were fine thanks to the lifeguard.

“i told you not to drown!” he suddenly shouted. if the people around you weren’t already staring at you, they were now. heat rose to your face from all of the sudden attention and embarrassment filled you. before you could speak the lifeguard chimed in, “technically she didn’t!”

you raised your brows as you smiled at how annoyed jungwon looked from his comment. “exactly, i got saved!” you added. jungwon waved a hand at you as you got to your feet with the aid of the lifeguard. jungwon then grumbled to himself, “i knew i should’ve made you come with me. and just my luck too, i left my food back at the table!”

turning swiftly to you, jungwon took your arm, “alright, beach time is over, we're going home. you get to explain to our moms how you managed to almost drown.” he pushed you towards the entrance of the boardwalk. jungwon then turned to the lifeguard and said, “oh! thank you for saving her!”

the two of you were almost out of the boardwalk when jungwon asked you why you kept looking behind you. you quickly turned to face forward with heated cheeks. you had been staring back at the attractive lifeguard, not realizing how obvious you were being about it. “that lifeguard was cute,” you said meekly.

jungwon looked behind him to look, “oh, jake? you really don’t want to get involved with him, y/n… he’s kind of a player.” you began to laugh off his statement when you turned to look at jake again and saw how he was surrounded by a group of girls in colorful bikinis.

jake had a smirk on his face as he wrapped his arm around a girl with dark hair while talking to another. your heart sunk a little in your chest. of course you weren’t the most special girl in the world, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel a little disappointed. you had to be realistic with yourself, someone like jake wasn’t going to fall for an average, everyday girl like you.

“oh…” was all you could say in reply as you turned back to the path you were taking home. you tried to think of the bright side of things—at least you wouldn’t end the summer with a failed relationship and a broken heart.

it had been almost a week since you arrived and besides the small beach trip you and jungwon took when you first got here, you haven’t left the house much. you were pretty sure that you were driving your mom and aunt crazy, especially when your mom brought up the idea of you getting a summer job. “it’s easy cash!” your mom explained, setting her open book down on her lap.

you aunt chimed in, “yeah! i heard mrs. song needed some more employees, why don’t you go down to the juice bar and apply?” you supposed that earning a little bit of cash while you were here wasn’t that bad of an idea, so you did exactly what your aunt suggested.

mrs. song didn’t even spare one glance at you and all she asked was, “can you make a smoothie?” you told her that you could—and very well if you do say so yourself—and she responded with, “great, you’re hired! you start monday at nine.”

you hadn’t realized that it would be that easy. she didn’t even interview you, but you put it to the back of your mind. you weren’t the one to pass up easy money. you had thought that it would at least take maybe an hour to go through the whole process, so now you were out and about with nothing to do. you decided to explore the town a little by yourself, since you still were unfamiliar with the whole place.

as your feet moved mindlessly, you looked around. it was a beautiful day out today, just cool enough for the summer sun not to boil you. you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that you were climbing over some rocks to a secluded part of the beach until you almost slipped and fell.

there was a cove where a small amount of the water flowed in to an open cave-like entrance. being the curious person you were, you decided to follow it. you peeked into the cave, there was a huge opening at the top of it that let in a lot of sunlight. cautiously, with your flip flops in your hand, you made your way into the cave. you guess it wasn't really a cave at all, more of an open rock structure.

you were in the middle of the cave, the opening at the ceiling shining sunlight onto you, when you heard behind you, “oh!” jumping in shock, you turned to where the voice came from.

it was the cute lifeguard who saved you earlier this week—jake. he wore his shock completely on his face as he was frozen mid stride. there was a towel balled up in his arms along with what looked like some fishing equipment. heat quickly spread through your face as you struggled to make eye contact with him. “wasn’t expecting anyone to be here…” he murmured to himself, shaking the blonde hair out of his eyes slightly. you noticed he had an accent.

“oh! i’ll go!” you quickly said, already making your way back to the entrance. jake held up his hands to stop you and in the process his towel fell to the sand below the both of you. “no, no, no, that’s okay! you can stay if you want. uh… hello!” he replied with a smile.

you froze right in front of him like a deer in headlights, but managed to nod. he nodded back to you, smile widening, before making his way further into the cave. he sat his stuff down a couple feet from the small pool of water that formed from the ocean. you stood in the same spot by the entrance and watched him.

“nice meeting you again! what was your name? are you new here? i feel like you are. i haven’t seen you around before,” jake asked you, looking up from where he fiddled with his fishing hook. you took small steps towards him and nodded. “uh, yeah! my name’s y/n—i’m just here for the summer actually! thanks again for, you know, saving my life,” you said awkwardly.

jake chuckled, “seriously! no worries, y/n! so… how’d you find this place? i mean, nobody really knows about it but me.” he put his hook down and stood from his spot, giving you his full attention.

“i was just wandering around really…” you trailed, scratching the back of your neck, “i’ve been trying to explore the area since everything is so new to me.” jake’s eyebrows raised and he nodded at your words.

“you know what, you should let me show you around town since you’re new here!” jake exclaimed like it meant absolutely nothing. your eyebrows shot up at his offer. he wanted to show you around? just the two of you?

you shook your head a little and waved a hand in the air at him, “oh, you don’t have to bother! i can find my way around by my—“

jake cut you off and playfully said, “come on, i insist! i can’t just let you wander around blind! besides, this town may be small, but it does have its secrets. and lucky for you, i just so happen to know all of them!” he motioned around the cave that the two of you were in. “for example: this place,” he added.

call it genuine curiosity or the fact that you found him so attractive and charming that you couldn’t say no, you agreed. “if you insist!” you laughed sheepishly and jake smiled from ear to ear. the warning of him being a player got completely pushed out of your mind and all you could think about was the opportunity of getting close to him. everything seemed so perfect for it.

jake walked up to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “good, good! i was gonna go fishing, but this is way more fun. from here on out, this place will be known as our spot!” jake held a hand out as he turned the two of you in a circle. you giggled and glanced over at him, “our spot, got it!”

for the rest of the day, you and jake spent time getting to know each other as he showed you around town. he was a lot different than you thought he would be. for one, you expected him to be a lot more standoffish, but he was really friendly instead.

the two of you were sitting at one of the tables outside of a food stand after getting food when you asked jake what he liked to do for fun—besides the fishing he was going to do earlier. “well, i like long walks on the beach and—“ he joked before you cut him off with a nudge to his shoulder.

“be serious!” you exclaimed as he started laughing, which made you laugh too. jake raised his shoulders and exclaimed, “what! i do like long walks on the beach, they’re calming!”

after the two of you settled down a little, jake suddenly asked, “do you have a bucket list?” you thought for a moment. you’ve heard of the whole concept of bucket lists, but you always thought them too unrealistic to actually go through with it. it was more of those things that you thought would be nice to do, but knew you were never going to be able to do it.

“no, i don’t,” you replied.

jake’s eyes widened at you from across the table. the setting sun casted him in a hazy glow and made his blonde hair almost appear pinkish. “you don’t have a bucket list? no, we need to fix this. we’re coming up with a bucket list together—what’s something you always wanted to do?” he asked rapidly.

“i’ll have to think this through first!” you quickly spoke, holding your hands out in front of you to slow him down, “it has to be realistic if we’re gonna do this together, i’m only here for three months! and i want to be able to have memories of it—physical memories!”

“okay, okay, i’ll give you until tomorrow to come up with some ideas!” jake laughed, “but what do you mean physical memories?” he leaned forward onto the table and rested his head in his hand as he waited for your answer.

humming in thought, you replied, “like one of those cheap disposable cameras! we can take a bunch of pictures of us going through the bucket list and at the end of summer when i’m gone we can get them developed! that way we stay in the moment.” jake’s eyes lit up and he practically dragged you out of your seat and down the boardwalk.

“i know just the place!” he said and led you towards the entrance of the boardwalk. after walking a short distance, jake pulled you into a place that selled various types of cameras. you had gotten there just in time, since the store was just about to close for the night.

the two of you had run around the store looking for the disposable cameras you were talking about, having absolutely no luck, until you heard jake call out your name. when you made your way over to him he held two in his hands out for you to see. “one for you and one for me!” he grinned.

you made your way over to the register and jake paid for them—which you complained about but he ignored you anyways. once you got outside you both ripped the packages open. you heard jake turning the dial and looked up. he had the camera up to his face and took a picture of you just as you looked up.

blinking rapidly, a shy smile took over your face. “what was that for?” you asked. jake grinned from behind the camera and lowered it to look fully at you.

“i want my first memory to be of you,” jake said simply. your eyes widened and your heart did backflips in your chest. heat spread to your cheeks and you looked away at the intensity of his stare.

“really?” you asked quietly. you heard jake’s laugh and his finger was under your chin. he turned your head so you were looking at him. the two of you were so close you could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. jake nodded at you.

with a smile he added, “you’re so cute.” he held his camera up and aimed it at the both of you so that you were in frame. still shocked from what just happened, you idly looked up the camera with a dazed smile and jake snapped another picture.

to break the sudden tension, you turned to him with a flustered smile. “i want one of us too!” you said cheerfully. you held your camera up and jake wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close until you were completely up against him. your face felt on fire as you snapped the picture.

you looked over to jake—who still had his arm wrapped around you waist—and quickly came up with an excuse to escape the tension. “i should probably start heading home,” you muttered as jake stared back at you, “it’s getting late.”

jake slowly removed his arm—not far, as it now rested on your hip as you turned to face him. “i’ll walk you,” he replied.

the walk back to your aunt’s was shorter than you expected and it made you wish that you purposefully took a couple wrong turns so that you could stay with jake longer. you were beginning to really enjoy his company and wanted to get to know him more. you took a step towards the porch before turning to jake. “this is me…” you trailed.

he had given you his number on the walk over so you could talk more about the summer plans you had come up with. “it was nice getting to know you today,” jake spoke softly, a smile slipping onto his lips. you nodded and agreed with him.

“thank you for making my summer more interesting! if it weren’t for your bucket list idea i probably would just stay in the house the whole summer whenever i’m not working at the juice bar…” you chuckled. jake joined in with you and said that it was no problem.

for a second, you thought that he was going to kiss you, like how this scene played out before in so many movies. an awkward smile overcame your face and you took another step towards the door. “i’ll see you later?” you asked, taking more steps towards the door.

“absolutely! after your shift tomorrow—you did say you worked tomorrow, right?” jake asked and you nodded in reply. he then said, “i’ll see you tomorrow then!”

when you finally got into the house you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. you took your shoes and jacket off by the door just as your mom came down the stairs. “you were gone all day! where have you been?” she asked curiously and made her way to the kitchen.

following her, you responded, “just out exploring the town… i made a new friend!” she hummed and turned to raise her eyebrows at the last part. “new friend? that’s good, honey! maybe you won’t be inside all summer,” she teased.

the two of you laughed and you made your way upstairs to get ready for bed. you placed the disposable camera on your dresser, a small smile coming to your lips as you thought about the day you just had. slipping into bed, you tried to not let the excitement for tomorrow not let you sleep and closed your eyes.

jake: meet me at our spot? jake: after your shift, of course.

your shift had just ended when jake had texted you. the two of you texted all night about potential bucket list ideas for the summer but neither of you had decided on anything concrete.

you: i’ll see you there!

when you got to you and jake’s “spot”, he was waiting there for you, two drinks in hand while sitting in the sand. the sunlight from up above perfectly lit him up and made his blonde hair glow. he extended one of the drinks out to you—the same drink you had gotten last night on your little adventure together—as he rose to his feet.

you thanked him with a warm smile and the two of you had begun going over different ideas for your bucket list. “remember though, i’m only here for three months! it can’t be anything crazy like going skydiving or anything,” you told jake as you sat side by side in the sand near the entrance of the cave.

jake nodded and pretended to cross something off midair. “got it—no skydiving,” he said with a playful pout. you giggled at him while nudging him with your shoulder as you rolled your eyes.

“what about… surfing?” you asked, turning to jake. “i’ve never been surfing before, but that’s mainly because i can’t swim… maybe that isn’t a good idea actually.” you let out a nervous laugh as you recalled the way you and jake met and your cheeks heated from the embarrassment.

“lucky for you,” jake said while standing to his feet and putting his hands on his hips, “you have the number one lifeguard here to teach you and look out for you!” jake started flexing in various poses, making you laugh as you looked up at him.

“seriously, though. i can teach you! nothing will happen to you on my watch,” jake exclaimed as he sat back down. you shrugged, he was your best option considering that he’s literally a lifeguard. if something went south, at least you knew you’d survive with him by your side. nodding, you agreed, “okay, deal!”

you and jake spent the rest of the time at your spot debating on various things you both wanted to do for your bucket list. other than him teaching you how to surf, the both of you also came up with stargazing, going to the summer splash charity event, and doing something adventurous—like skinny dipping.

the summer splash charity event is a party that raises money to provide resources for the sheltered animals in town. according to jake, it happens every year and everyone goes to it. it’s a formal event that everyone dresses to the nines for. you made a mental note to ask your mom about it to see if she had a dress you could borrow.

“skinny dipping?!” you whipped around to where jake was sitting, feet in the water as he mindlessly dipped his finger into it. he looked back to where you were standing, “what? you said you wanted to do something adventurous and that’s the first thing i thought of!”

you wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly self conscious, as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. noticing the change in your body language, jake stood as came up to you slowly. “we can do it at night when the beach is completely empty—or not at all if you’re not comfortable. it’s completely up to you,” jake said softly.

you looked down to your feet as you thought about it. you did tell him that you wanted to do something adventurous this summer, break out of your shell. there’s nothing more adventurous and nothing that screams “breaking out of your shell” quite like skinny dipping does. you inhaled deeply, “no… let’s do it—only at night though and only when the beach is completely empty.”

jake’s eyebrows raised but you couldn’t miss the slight smirk that was making its way onto his lips. “are you sure?” he asked seriously.

you hit jake in the arm. “don’t pretend like you aren’t excited to see a naked girl!” you joked, trying to lift the tension. the smirk on his face shifted to a grin and he broke out into a laugh. jake held his hands up in the air and turned away from you. “i can’t say that i’m not,” he replied.

the first month of your stay was almost coming to an end and it seemed as if you and jake were attached at the hip. for the entire month, jake had shown you the ins and outs of the small seaside town until you knew it like the back of your hand. your disposable cameras had filled up and you had to buy another one from all the pictures you’ve taken.

a smile came to your face and heat spread across your cheeks as you thought about one of the special pictures you’ve taken just yesterday. you and jake were out on the town again, him showing you this skate park that nobody really uses anymore. the two of you sat on the edge of the ramp and you listened as jake pointed out various graffitied names and told you about the people behind them.

it was nighttime, and you knew you should start heading home before it got too late out, but—like always—you didn’t want your time with jake to end. the moment grew quiet and your eyes traveled over all the different names and made up different stories for them. you felt a pair of eyes on you and looked over to where jake was staring intently at you.

“i’m glad i got to meet you,” he said softly, leaning closer to you. you looked away briefly, a flustered smile lighting up your features and face heating. you couldn’t imagine a different timeline where you didn’t meet jake.

“i’m glad i got to meet you, too,” you replied shyly. jake smiled and reached his hand up to cup your cheek. for another moment, which seemed everlasting, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes. when his lips pressed to yours, everything felt as if it fell into place. it felt as if this was the moment when everything clicked—when you knew what you’d finally been looking for.

you were filled with passion that threatened to break out. you pulled jake closer and the thought of needing to breathe didn’t even cross your mind. that was, until your lungs screamed for air and you and jake finally pulled away from each other.

a smile broke out onto your face and it did on jake’s as well. he chuckled slightly and held your hands in his. then his eyes lit up suddenly and he was pushing himself off the ground and jogging over to where your bags were.

“what are you doing?” you giggled, turning fully to where he stood. he dug in both of your bags and pulled out the cameras. jake then jogged back over to you, dropping back down to the ground next to you, and handed you your camera.

“you said you wanted physical memories, right?” jake held up his camera so that the two of you were in frame with all the graffitied names in the back. “say cheese!” he smiled and you laughed—which he caught with the flash of the camera.

“now you,” jake added, urging you to hold up your camera. you laughed again and held up your camera, head tilted against jake’s, as you snapped a picture. you turned to jake and he smiled at you. he then pressed a kiss to your cheek and laughed at how flustered you got from it, which he also managed to catch on camera.

when you did finally get home, drunk on the thought of the kiss you and jake shared, jungwon was waiting for you. he sat on the couch, some random show he wasn’t watching playing on the tv. when you stepped through the door, he turned towards you.

“you and jake have been spending a lot of time together…” jungwon trailed, eyebrows knitting together. the smile on your face vanished and you quickly took off your shoes.

“yeah…” you mumbled in reply, “what about it? we’re friends.” you didn’t mean for your words to come out so harsh, but you couldn’t help it. you were getting two different ideas of jake and you believed the one that came straight from the source more rather than the one that was passed around.

jungwon’s eyebrows raised slightly, “i just want you to be careful and to not get hurt. i told you, he’s a player, and i don’t want you to get caught up—“

“i’m a big girl, jungwon. i can handle myself,” you cut him off abruptly. anger pulsated through you. why does he keep telling you this? “jake isn’t like that—not anymore.”

before jungwon could speak again, you stormed off to your room. you refused to let his words ruin your night, not after you and jake had finally kissed. you tried to focus your mind on the kiss, the way his soft lips felt against yours and the tickle of his blonde hair—dark brown roots barely grown out—against your skin.

inhaling deeply, you got ready for bed. under the security of the covers, you opened up your phone to send a message to jake. a smile made its way across your face and it took everything in you not to squeal as you put your phone on your nightstand.

you: i had a really great time tonight! sweet dreams! jake: me too! sweet dreams, pretty.

you mentally slapped yourself to stop thinking about his text. “pretty,” he called you pretty. you giggled to yourself and turned over in your bed, shutting your eyes.

[ YOU KNOW I’LL “SEE YOU LATER” — 2ND MONTH ] ✈︎ sixty-two days until you return home.

it’s been almost a week since the kiss you and jake shared. the two of you had fallen naturally into things a couple do—go on what seem like dates, kiss and such. you were so sure that jake was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, yet he’s made nothing official.

you thought that maybe you were imagining the whole thing, that the two of you haven’t kissed at all and nothing has changed between the two of you, but that was until he kissed you again. and again. the only thing he asked you is if you wanted to go to a beach party one of his friends is having this weekend—which you agreed to.

you sat slumped against the counter of the juice bar. today was a slow day and you began regretting working there at all with how much your feet hurt. “i don’t know, what do you think? am i overthinking things? i just feel like he should’ve asked me by now…” you looked to your side to where your coworker, hana, leaned near the smoothie machine.

you met hana on your third day of working at the juice bar and the two of you became fast friends. you didn’t have a lot of shifts together, but when you did she told you all the gossip on some of the people around town who you’ve never met and probably never will. in return, you mainly shared your anxious thoughts revolving jake, which she didn’t seem to mind hearing.

“are you sure he’s not playing you?” hana asked, somewhat hesitantly. you sighed and looked away, focusing your attention on the ocean waves ahead. you hated how many times people asked you that question.

“there’s nothing to play if i’m not even his girlfriend,” you stated. to which hana responded with a “…not quite.”

“i know this is a sore subject for you so i’ll keep it brief, but what if he is?” she pushed off the counter and made her way over to you, slumping next to you as she looked at you. she rested her head in her hand, “i don’t really know this jake, but i have heard of him. and i’ve heard that he cheated on his last girlfriend. now that could just be a rumor, but he doesn’t exactly have the cleanest track record. the guy has hooked up with every girl he could lay his eyes on—what if he’s just trying to get into your pants?”

you groaned and buried your face in your arms. this really didn’t help with your overthinking. what if jake was just trying to get into your pants? what if this all was some elaborate scheme to get close to the new girl so he could sleep with you? what if he wasn’t the person he was making himself out to be?

“what if he is?” you asked, voice muffled. you already knew the answer, hana didn’t even need to say it. and she didn’t. hana rubbed comforting circles onto your back instead.

“my shift is about to end… i really hope that what i said isn’t true y/n, but for your own sake… i would be careful around him.” you got up from the counter, nodding at hana and her departure, and sighed again. from your pocket you felt your phone buzz and looking at it, you laughed wryly. the universe really does have a way with things…

jake: hang out with me after your shift? jake: we can get a move on with our bucket list and i can teach you how to surf!

you wanted to bang your head off the counter at how your heart fluttered from him messaging you. you wanted to heed everyone’s constant warnings, but a part of you wanted to push them out of your head. a part of you wanted to cast caution to the wind and take the leap of faith. jake couldn’t be playing you, he couldn’t. that just didn’t seem like him. a part of you wanted to keep moving forward with your relationship, close your eyes to the fact that you could very well be walking down the path of getting hurt.

at this point, you were in too deep. if you got hurt, then you got hurt. at least then you’d know it was real—at least for you. caution be damned. you inhaled sharply as your fingers typed out your response:

you: of course! meet me at the beach after i grab my swimsuit? jake: i’ll see you later!

after your shift ended—and you ran back home to grab your swimsuit—you met jake at the beach like you both agreed. he was already clad in swim trunks, the lack of shirt shocking you for a quick second, and leaning against the surfboard he had next to him. “you ready?” jake asked as you walked up to him, a smile gracing his lips as he pushed off his surfboard.

you nodded, eager to get into the water and cool down your heated cheeks. the two of you made your way into the water together after he grabbed another surfboard for himself, passing the one he was carrying to you.

jake had begun teaching you how to actually even get on the board, firstly getting onto your stomach and then eventually standing. when you finally cheered at the fact that you were able to stand and not embarrassingly slide off into the water, he then taught you how to actually ride a wave.

“steady… and then up!” jake guided next to you as the two of you caught a small wave. when you surfed back to the shore you jumped to your feet and cheered, wrapping your arms around his bare torso.

“i did it! i did it!” you cheered, twirling you and jake as he laughed. you pulled away from him, smile still as big as the sun. jake pulled you into a brief kiss, pulling away with a proud smile. “you did it!” jake cheered back.

with your flustered gaze, you turned back to the oncoming waves with newfound courage, but instead noticed something else. in the distance, you could see someone flailing in the water. their head went under with the oncoming waves. in wordless shock all you could do was point towards the water while hitting jake’s arm until the words finally spilled from your mouth, “someone’s drowning!”

jake turned towards the direction you pointed in just as the person in the water gasped for air and went back under. his eyes widened and he briefly looked around at the lifeguards present on the beach. when he saw that none of them were paying attention, he picked up his surfboard from the sand and took off towards the water.

you stood back on the shore, worry eating at you as jake pulled the person onto the surfboard and swam them back to shore. it reminded you of how he saved you on your first day here. when he reached shore you helped him get the unconscious person onto the sand as one of the lifeguards ran towards your direction.

your eyes widened in horror as you realized it was your friend, hana. jake alternated doing mouth to mouth and chest compressions on her until her eyes sprang open and she coughed up water. “oh my god, hana! are you okay?” you bent down to ask with furrowed brows, cradling her cheek with your hand.

weakly, she nodded and smiled at you. hana turned her attention to jake, her smile widened as she let out a hoarse “thank you, you saved my life!” jake gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, his eyes finding yours. the two of you backed up as the lifeguard on duty took over.

“that’s one of my good friends from work!” you exclaimed as you looked back at the scene, brows knitted together. “i really hope she’s okay… almost drowning is really scary.”

jake’s hand found yours and he pulled you back to where your towels were. his face was weirdly blank and there was what almost seemed to be a scowl on his lips. you put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him, “hey… you alright?”

jake just nodded, giving you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “that was just kinda hectic… why don’t we go do something else instead of surfing again?” he asked you. you nodded, an empathetic smile forming on your lips.

the weekend had arrived and the beach party that seemed to be the talk of the town was tonight. instead of being excited for your first ever beach party, you were nervously shifting your phone in your hands. since the whole beach incident, it’s been almost radio silence from jake. when he was answering your texts, they were only one word replies or dry texts.

you didn’t understand what had gone wrong. at first you thought he needed space. saving someone’s life was no easy feat and definitely had to take a toll on him, but you wanted to be there for him any way that you could.

when you saw him one day while working, he acted like he didn’t even hear you calling him—choosing to instead hurry off with one of his friends. your heart dropped and hana rubbed more comforting circles into your back as you tried not to cry. “he really seems like he’s playing you, y/n…” hana had trailed off hesitantly, knowing how much of a sensitive issue this was for you. “maybe you should just end things officially with him.”

what if jake was playing you?

you did the finishing touches on your outfit for the party and took another look at yourself in the mirror, a small smile forming on your lips. it was just your bathing suit and a simple cover up, but you looked good, if you did say so yourself. you grabbed your phone again, hoping to hear from jake but knew that you wouldn’t. sighing, you threw your phone onto your bed.

you debated even going to the stupid party—in fact, you were already an hour and a half late for it. what was the point if the person who invited you wasn’t even talking to you? but you thought fuck that. you were going to go out and enjoy your summer at a party you were going to have fun at, with or without jake.

after doing another once over in the mirror, you grabbed your things and made your way downstairs for the walk down to the beach. if jake was going to ignore you, you were going to ignore him right back. tonight, you were only going to care about you, not him. two can play at this petty game.

you could hear the music playing from the party, which only got louder and louder the nearer you got to it. there were bodies everywhere, including those in the water. everyone was clad in their bathing suits, either chatting with others or pulling each other into the water. you made your way over to where a bar was set up and grabbed yourself a drink.

you didn’t want to get too drunk tonight, since you were alone, but you wanted something in your system. nursing the drink, you wandered around to find something to do. it dawned on you how little people you knew here. you didn’t really expand your friendships much besides jake and hana.

the cool night breeze made you shiver slightly, so you decided to make your way over to where there was a campfire set up. there were plenty of people around it and maybe you could meet some new friends. that’s when your heart dropped.

just a few feet ahead of you was jake and his friends, no doubt drunk out of their minds. you wondered how you didn’t hear their loud bantering over the music, but you guess that it all sort of blended in. jake sat on a beach chair, some random girl in his lap with his hand resting on her ass. it wasn’t any girl you recognized.

what the fuck, you thought, anger bubbling up inside you. i knew it, i should’ve knew he was playing me like the fucking fool i am. just at that moment you and jake made eye contact, the smile on his face faltering as he took in your look of pure devastation. you should’ve just stayed home.

turning on your feet, your eyes scanned for somewhere you could run to, but seeing nowhere good enough they landed on the water ahead. it’ll have to do.

you stripped off your bathing suit cover and speed walked with fevered passion out towards the water, hoping that the darkness will cover up your tracks. you didn’t even care that the water was freezing cold, you couldn’t feel it with how the anger was heating up your skin. instead, you dipped your head underwater for a couple seconds, complete silence and darkness calming you briefly, before surfacing again. luckily, jake didn’t follow you out—if you could even consider that luck.

as soon as you surfaced, you were face to face with a stranger you didn’t know. you let out a shocked gasp and moved backwards. “sorry,” the stranger awkwardly chuckled, giving you some space. “i saw you storm in the water—it’s not safe to be out here in the dark swimming in the ocean alone.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him, “what’s it to you?” you really didn’t need more people making this moment difficult for you.

his face lit up like he forgot to mention a very crucial piece of information. “oh! uh—i’m a lifeguard.” he held out his hand to you, the moonlight illuminating it. what was up with you and lifeguards? you hesitantly took it and gave him a wary smile. “i’m jay. you’re jake’s girl, right?”

your smile immediately dropped. you weren’t “jake’s girl,” and it was clear that you never was. all you were to him was some pawn in a game you didn’t even really know you were playing. “not jake’s girl,” you responded.

you looked back to the campfire, seeing that jake and some of his friends were nowhere to be found. you turned back to jay, “and i guess you’re right. i can't swim that well anyways.” a sheepish smile made it’s way onto your face.

“maybe i should get you back to shore then…” jay laughed, “get you warmed up by the campfire? it’s pretty chilly out here and i wouldn’t want you to get sick.” you nodded and the two of you swam back to the shore together. as soon as you stepped out, your teeth chattered and your body shook like a leaf. all the heat from the anger dissipated and now you were just cold.

you and jay sat side by side on a log, the flames from the fire drying you off and warming your bodies. after a couple moments, jay turned to you and said, “you don’t seem to be one who falls for a player’s antics like jake’s.”

caught completely by surprise, you cleared your throat slightly as you thought of something to say. you weren’t one to fall for a player, especially after being warned so much about him. it was unlike you. but there was just something about jake that kept luring you in, like a lamb to the slaughter. “i guess i was too caught up in being in a new town that i put caution aside…” you trailed, staring down at your hands.

jay hummed, “ah, new girl. i see.” you looked over to him and nodded, trying to lighten the mood with a small laugh. “you live and you learn,” jay added, almost solemnly. it made you wonder what he had to go through to give you such advice. you didn’t have the chance to ask before you saw jake barreling his way over towards you, stumbling over his own feet.

he stood across the fire from you and jay, anger dripping from his face. “wow, you move on quick!” he seethed, eyes locking on yours. jake’s accent was heavy and thick, words slurred. you scoffed at him. did he think you didn’t see him with that other girl on his lap?

you shot up from your seat, “i move on quick? me? you literally had some girl on your lap after ignoring me for days, jake.” in the corner of your eyes you saw the attention the two of you were gathering. people dipping by other’s ears to whisper about the two of you. you didn’t even have to guess what they were saying. you knew that it had to be something along the lines of “jake sim strikes again! another stupid girl fell into his trap. they just don’t know how to learn.”

ignoring your words, jake instead said, “i didn’t know you were such a whore, y/n.” you face contorted to one of hurt and you took a small step back, the back of your foot knocking against the log you were just seated on.

jay jumped from the log, moving ever so slightly to step in front of you. “what the fuck, man?” jay hissed towards jake. jake didn’t even pay him any attention, his eyes never left yours.

you didn’t know how everything went so wrong. it seemed like just yesterday jake was kissing you for the first time at the abandoned skate park. now everything was so twisted and you were left standing in the center of it all. you desperately tried to not let tears well up in your eyes. jake didn’t get to go treat you this way—he didn’t get to win. you looked him dead in the eyes, “what the fuck is wrong with you, jake?”

before he could answer, his friend came up to him and slang and arm around his shoulder. you recognized him, despite jake never introducing you to any of his friends. park sunghoon, jake��s bestfriend and right-hand man—and no doubt another player. his eyes glided over your body, still somewhat wet from your dip in the ocean. his lips curled up into a smirk, “who’s this jake? victim number…” he trailed off into a laugh, eyes hooded from the alcohol. “oh wait… i lost count,” sunghoon laughed again.

the anger disappeared from jake’s face, now replaced with complete detachment as he turned to sunghoon and laughed. you literally couldn’t believe what you were seeing. was this how he treated every girl who had unfortunately fallen into his web?

“she’s cute,” sunghoon said, eye’s trailing you again. you had the urge to cover up, pulling your bathing suit cover tighter around you, suddenly feeling disgusted at the fact that they were talking about you like you weren’t even there.

“make your move, i bet she’ll let you take her right here,” jake replied, looking at you. your mouth opened in shock and you were frozen in place. jake was like a completely different person. no—this must’ve been the real him he was hiding from you to get in your pants. you were in such shock that you didn’t even see jay’s fist connecting with jake’s face until they were rolling around in the sand throwing more fists at each other.

you stood in the same spot, unmoving, as more of jake’s friends showed up and pulled them apart before anything serious could happen besides some cut lips. jake pushed his friends off of him and stormed off towards a group of girls—the one girl in particular who was in his lap earlier. he pulled her towards up and smashed his lips onto her’s, all the while making direct eye contact with you.

you looked away, scoffing to yourself as you made your way to where jay stood brushing sand off himself. “i’m so sorry, are you okay?” you asked while aiding him in brushing off sand.

in lieu of a reply, jay hissed, “he’s such a fucking asshole. how did you even get caught up in his drama?” when jay turned to you, there wasn’t any anger in his eyes—at least, not towards you. it was a genuine question, and somehow that made you feel worse about everything.

you looked back over to where jake stormed off to to see that him and his friends—and the girl he kissed—were all walking over to the ocean to swim. they left abandoned articles of clothing in their wake as they started to chase each other into the water. you sighed mellowly, “i thought he was different, not who everyone said he was… it turns out i was wrong. he’s exactly like how everyone says he is.”

you couldn’t help the stray tear that escaped your eye, quickly moving your hand to wipe it away. you felt jay’s eyes on you as you stared down at your toes in the sand. he doesn’t get to win, you thought, opening your mouth to speak as you looked up at jay.

jay beat you to it. “let’s get a drink. take your mind off of it?” he offered. you closed your mouth and nodded, walking side by side with him towards the bar.

you were well past tipsy now as you and jay spent however long talking and getting to know each other. just as the two of you were in the middle of a conversation about your favorite aquatic animal, jake walked up to you. his head was down and he looked like a kicked puppy as he stood in front of you. he was only in his swim trunks and almost completely dry, so you were guessing it’s been a while since he’s been out of the water. “y/n…” he trailed, looking up at you through slightly wet strands of blonde hair.

“the fuck do you want, jake? here to call me a whore again? just leave me alone,” you waved a hand in the air at him, taking a sip from your drink. jake tried to take your hand in his but you snatched it out of his grip. you were guessing he was sober now.

“can we please just talk?” jake asked. his eyes skimmed over to jay who was glaring at him. “privately?” jake added. you laughed at him. is he serious?

“she told you to leave her alone, dude,” jay said, tone a little harsh.

jake rolled his eyes, they landed on jay with a glare, “shut the fuck up, jay. this has nothing to do with you.” jake turned his gaze back to you, gaze softening completely. he almost looked sorry. you almost laughed again.

“please, y/n. just five minutes and you’ll never have to see me again,” jake pleaded.

next to you, jay scoffed. “you promise?” jay cooed towards jake and jake’s glare immediately came back as his eyes snapped towards him. you sighed.

“five minutes, jake. that’s all i’m giving you to explain everything,” you spoke quietly. jay looked over at you. in his eyes you saw his question, “are you sure?” you gave him a slight nod and then stood. “don’t waste my time,” you added.

you wobbled slightly as you stood and jake took your hand. again, you pulled it out of his grasp. “i can walk by myself,” you bit out. jake’s eyebrows raised in slight shock but he said nothing as he guided you to somewhere private.

he led you a little bit away from where the party was, but close enough that you still heard the music blasting from the speakers. he pulled you behind an empty stand where wandering eyes couldn’t see you. you turned to him with a deep sigh and raised brows raised as you crossed your arms. “time is ticking,” is all you said.

“she meant nothing… i promise. it's you i want, y/n,” jake started, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. you rolled your eyes at him. meant nothing? so he thinks you’re stupid.

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you countered. you turned to walk away. if he was just going to lie to you then there wasn’t any point of hearing him out. jake grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him. he cupped your cheek and guided your gaze back up to his. “i’m serious. it is you that i want. my head was everywhere and the alcohol didn’t help and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, y/n, i didn’t want to hurt you.”

in your head you cursed him for being so alluring, and then cursed yourself for drinking so much because now you were melting like puddy in his hands. you didn’t want to believe him, you really didn’t, but the more you searched his eyes, the more you saw the truth in them. jake wanted you, that much was the truth. but was he truly sorry… that was to be determined.

the anger in your eyes softened and your eyes glazed over, “why would you do that, jake? you don’t talk to me for days and then i come here and see you all up on some girl? after spending so much time with me and acting like we’re a couple?” you swear you saw jake’s heart break as he pulled you into his chest.

“i know, baby, i know i messed up and i’m sorry. let me make it up to you and show you that you’re the only one who matters to me,” jake said softly and you pulled away to look at him. he pressed his lips to yours, his hand cupping your face gently. you shivered slightly at his touch and the petname falling from his lips. a fire lit up inside you and you pressed your lips to his harder, wrapping your arms around his neck.

jake backed you up against the empty stand, lifting you so you sat onto the ledge that was lower than the actual stand. he pulled away from you slightly, enough for the both of you to catch your breath. “tell me now if you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” jake breathed.

you kissed him again, skin hot in all the places he touched you. “i want this,” you briefly broke apart to say. jake dropped to his knees between your legs. you shifted slightly as he pressed kisses onto your bare inner thighs, lifting your legs so they rested over his shoulders.

“uh—jake…” you stammered, eyes fluttering closed for a quick second. jake hummed, looking up at you with a raised brow. “i-i’m a virgin… i’ve never done any of this before…”

jake’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. he rose, thumbs trailing your thighs and kissed you. “that’s okay,” he said as he got to his knees again, “i’ll take good care of you, baby.”

you gave him a sheepish smile as you lifted your bathing suit cover to pool around your hips. you then lifted your hips so jake could take your bottoms off and scooted to the edge of the ledge you were sitting on.

once your bottoms were off, you shivered slightly from the sudden coldness. more from the way jake was now pressing kisses close to your core. it was embarrassing how you were absolutely dripping for him despite being angry at him not too long ago, but either jake didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care much. he returned your legs back to his shoulders.

jake’s mouth latched onto your clit and his tongue swirled around it. you jumped, a moan escaping your lips as your back arched slightly. his tongue continued to swirl around your clit and his lips sucked in, making your back arch more. your fingers ran through his blonde hair, grabbing at it to try and steady yourself. jake looked up at you and you could feel the smirk on his lips.

your breath was heavy and you shamelessly moaned from how good jake was making you feel. if there was one good thing that came out of all of this, it was finding out just how good jake was with his tongue. you were so high on cloud nine that you moaned a little too loud once you felt jake slowly enter a finger into you, testing the waters, pulling in and out slowly. he then slowly slid in another finger, the stretch making your head whirl.

jake laughed, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your body. you gasped when his fingers angled up, pressing right against your sweet spot, and bucked your hips forward. “feels so good,” you whimpered. “p-please don’t stop!”

you legs began to shake and the pleasure was so much that you couldn’t help but rock your hips towards jake’s mouth and fingers. jake started to to hum against your clit lightly, fingers moving faster. you gripped his hair and the edge of the ledge tigher, “just how many girls have you treated like this?” you breathed out between moans. your eyes were squeezed shut and you felt how close you were to being undone. “is this what you do to get back on their good side?” you asked.

jake pulled his mouth away from you and your eyes fluttered open to look down at him from the loss. his fingers continued to move rapidly. “you wouldn’t be the only girl,” jake commented. you didn’t even get a chance to respond as he pressed his fingers against your walls and you came undone onto his fingers. you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out, chest rising and falling harshly.

when you came down from your high, with the aid of jake and now suddenly sober, you opened your eyes just as he pulled his fingers out of you and to his mouth while rising to his feet. you glared at him harshly as he licked his fingers clean, mouth and chin wet with your arousal and blonde hair messy. looking behind you, you reached for some napkins and cleaned yourself up before putting your bathing suit bottoms back up.

you threw the rest of the napkins at his face and pushed him away from you as you jumped off the ledge. “you’re such an asshole,” you muttered angrily as you stormed back off in the direction of the party. from behind you, you could hear jake calling your name as he jogged after you.

“fuck off, jake!” you yelled, not bothering to turn around as you moved faster.

when you got back to the party, you went up to the campfire where jay was still sitting, a bottle in his hands. “thanks for talking to me tonight, but i’m gonna head home actually,” you told him, trying to give him your best fake smile but it instead coming out in a half grimace. you heard your name being called and jay stood.

“i’ll walk you home,” jay said as he placed his bottle in the sand against the log. you nodded and the two of you quickly walked off.

the walk back to your house was silent. you mainly processed the series of events that just happened. how could you be so stupid? once again, you fell into jake’s trap. when will you learn?

you didn’t even realize you made it to the front of your aunt’s house, too lost in your own thoughts to notice your feet moving on their own, until jay said, “are you going to be okay?” you looked over to him in slight shock, thinking about his question for a moment.

shrugging, you responded, “i’m not sure yet. for now i will be, i guess. thanks for walking me home, jay. i really appreciate it.” jay gave you a nod, not entirely convinced. “anytime,” he spoke and watched as you walked up to the front door and entered the house.

you ran to the bathroom, wanting to rub your skin clean until it was raw. you stayed under the water for a while until it started to run cold and stayed for a little more after that, tears being washed away from the stream. when you did finally get out, you laid in your bed unable to sleep.

you phone was being blown up by jake and you just didn’t have the energy for him right now, so you turned your phone off. you didn’t want to hear anymore of his excuses—or truths, you still couldn’t decipher which was which. you just hoped that sleep would come to you soon and you wouldn’t dream of him.

when you woke up in the morning from a dreamless sleep, the first text your eyes saw as you checked the time on your phone was from jake. you sighed softly, telling yourself you’ll check the rest of his messages later. the message your eyes scanned was:

jake: meet me at our spot? i didn’t mean what i said. it wasn’t my intention for it to come off that way. please answer, y/n. i know you wake up around this time, so please meet me there when you see this.

you weighed his message in your head, deciding to ignore it entirely or to meet with him. after pacing around your room, you decided to meet with him. this was it—you were putting an end to everything. no more games. you were only going to meet with jake for closure, to finally see if his words have been truths or lies.

you got ready for the day, thankful that you didn’t have to work at the juice bar, and mentally hyped yourself up. you couldn’t let yourself be lured in by jake’s trap again; acting like a pushover for him. you wanted answers, not to lose yourself in his warm and inviting brown eyes. not to think about how good he made you feel last night—despite the memories clouding around your racing mind making your heart do flips.

leaving the house, you made your way down to the beach with newfound confidence.

when you reached the open cave-like entrance, you saw jake sitting in the sand lost in thought waiting for you. his eyes immediately snapped to your figure when he saw you approach. jake looked like he hadn’t slept, eyes rimmed red and dark circles sinking in his eyes. his blonde hair was in every direction as if he’d been running his fingers through it constantly and his plain shirt was wrinkled.

jake slid his phone that he was clutching into his pants pocket as he stood to his feet. hesitantly, you walked up to him, stopping a few feet short of him. you left your expression purposefully blank as you quirked a brow at him.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” jake started, taking a few steps towards you. he furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“so how else did you mean it, jake? i’m tired of playing this game with you.”

jake sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “i mean—i did mean it like that,” he closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed your hands, effectively removing them from where they were sitting across your chest. jake slid his thumbs across them as he spoke.

“but not with you. i won’t lie and say that i don’t have a reputation—“

you cut him off, tone harsh as you pushed away from him. “a reputation of being a player? of stringing girls along; using their feelings for you against them to get in their pants? your reputation precedes you, jake, and i’m not going to be your next victim.”

“and you won’t be—that life, me being a player, it’s over. it’s in the past—canceled, i promise you. i meant what i said to you yesterday, baby. i want to be with you and i’m sorry for making you think that i didn’t.” jake stepped forward and cupped your face, tilting your head so you looked in his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. you exhaled softly and your eyes fluttered shut.

jake continued, “as soon as i got into that water, i immediately sobered up and knew i fucked up. i shouldn’t have spoken to you like that—shouldn’t have let my friends speak to you like that. that was really shitty. i’m so sorry.” you opened your eyes and they grazed across the cut on his lip from his fight with jay.

your arms hung limply at your sides as your mind struggled to come up with any thought whatsoever. it was silent for a moment. “you ignored me for a whole week straight. pretended that i didn’t even exist to you,” was all you managed to say.

jake sighed again and shut his eyes briefly like he was having an inner battle with himself. “my head has been everywhere this week, baby. i’m sorry. lifeguarding has been more taxing than usual and i’m really not in my right mind. the alcohol last night really didn’t help either, like i said.”

your eyes softened. it was just as you expected. “so why didn’t you tell me all of this? i could’ve helped you—been there for you!” your words were light, but your insistence made jake look up.

jake just shrugged, not knowing what to say. he settled on, “i didn’t know how to explain it all. i’m not that good at telling people how i feel—clearly.”

you rested a hand on his cheek, a small smile coming to your lips. “it’s something we can work on… why don’t we do something from our bucket list today? help get your mind off lifeguarding?” you suggested. jake’s face lit up and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

a cheeky smile played on jake’s mouth as he nodded and you rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest lightly. you pointed to the shallow water coming in from the ocean, “if you say skinny dipping i’m drowning you in the water over there!”

jake’s smile widened, a pretty laugh leaving his lips. it was a sound you could hear forever. “i wasn’t! i was gonna suggest we go stargazing.”

he pulled you closer to him and bent down towards you, breath fanning across your neck and his nose sending a shiver down your spine from the way it trailed along the skin near your ear. “but if you wanted to skinny dip i wouldn’t be opposed,” he whispered, voice dripping like honey.

you inhaled sharply at the way jake brushed his lips against your jaw ever so slightly. you didn’t even notice the way your grip tightened around his shirt at his chest. all you could think about was his lips at your core making you feel so good. better than you could ever do for yourself. the way his fingers reached deep inside you and pressed against spots that you couldn’t reach yourself no matter how hard you tried.

breath hitching, you tried to control your breathing as you let out a chuckle that you hoped sounded playfully annoyed, but instead came out as nervous as you felt. with all the strength you could muster, which was barely any at all, you pushed at his chest again and jake took a couple small steps back. that same wicked smirk from last night curled his lips upwards.

god, that smirk. if given the chance, you knew that jake sim would absolutely ruin you. you knew that he would worship every inch of your skin while completely defiling your innocence.

you subtly pressed your legs together at the thought of his hands wandering over your naked body and bit your lip at how it would feel when he finally slid into you. no, you couldn’t think such dirty things with him looking at you like he knew every thought running through your head right now.

you kept your eyes firmly on the grains of sand beneath the two of you until you were sure your thoughts were clear.

once the dignity started to come back to you, you slowly looked up at him. you plastered a playful smile on and raised your brows while crossing your arms across your chest. “you’re on timeout. so going skinny dipping—and whatever dirty little thoughts are running though your head with the idea—not happening. got it?”

you were definitely projecting with your statement, even if you both were most likely thinking the same things. jake’s wicked smirk remained on his lips, this time more playful than wicked. he raised a singular brow at you, head tilting subtly. he didn’t even need to speak for you to get the connotation.

we’ll see about that, won’t we?

you and jake spent the rest of the morning together, hanging around the beach taking various photos with your disposable camera, until you got called in to work to cover a shift. you had just finished cleaning the blenders at the juice stand when jake scared you, suddenly announcing his arrival while leaning across the counter with a shit-eating grin.

gasping loudly with a hand pressed to your heart, you took the hand towel you were holding and smacked him with it, making him laugh. you couldn’t help the smile that spread on your face at jake being here. your shift so far was boring, your friend hana wasn’t working today and nobody was really buying anything either. you desperately needed the distraction.

“what are you doing here?” you smiled, leaning across the counter in front of jake. your faces were mere inches away and jake closed the gap by pressing a kiss to your lips.

“i wanted to see you,” he replied, smile never leaving his face. that was, until jay showed up to order a drink.

“how are you, jay?” you asked as you started the process of his drink, turning slightly to look at him. he was soaking wet, no doubt just getting off one of his shifts. running a hand through his damp hair he breathed out harshly, smile not reaching his eyes as he shook his head a little.

“you know how lifeguarding is…” he trailed off. you gave him a sympathetic smile, definitely not knowing how lifeguarding is, but from your talk with jake earlier, you could only imagine.

jake shifted in his seat, turning to face jay. “yeah… i do,” he spoke. you glanced over to him as you poured jay’s drink in one of the to-go cups. jake’s mouth was pressed into a thin line and his eyes sharp. they were both deadly silent and you had the feeling they weren’t talking about lifeguarding.

slowly, you slid the drink you just made towards jay as your eyes flicked between the two of them. their staring contest was cut short by one of jake’s friend’s calling his name. reluctantly, he got up to meet them, eyes flicking to you before turning around. what was that all about?

jay’s eyes slid to you, a sigh escaping his lips. “i hope you know what you’re doing, y/n,” he said before handing you the money for his drink and standing from his seat. your brows furrowed in question but before you could ask what he meant, jay spoke again.

“there’s no winner in the player’s game. it’s best to know that before it’s too late.”

jay then left, leaving you with your mouth hanging open. your mind was surprisingly blank despite his words that you were desperately trying to process. to distract yourself, you began tidying up.

jake came back up to the stand just as you finished, his friend—sunghoon, if you remember correctly from his hurtful words at the beach party—following suit. your eyebrows were raised in slight shock as you tried to keep the scowl from off your face. jake said nothing, just waved his hand towards you while looking at sunghoon in a “well…” kind of way.

sunghoon sighed while leaning on the stand towards you. “uh… listen, y/n…” he looked towards jake in question and jake gave him a small nod without taking his eyes off you. sunghoon continued, “i was a real asshole for what i said at the beach party—real shitty. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

he scratched the back of his neck and his apology hung in the air for a moment. you smiled awkwardly, eyes flicking between him and jake. clearing your throat slightly, you responded, “t-thank you? i appreciate the apology.”

it was awkward for another few moments before jake finally broke the silence. “so…” he started, dragging out the vowel as he leaned more over the counter towards you. “will you be my date to the summer splash event?”

sunghoon scoffed while turning towards jake, hitting him on the shoulder. “dude, you haven’t even asked her yet? the event is next month!” he exclaimed. a sheepish smile took over jake’s face as he leaned back into his chair. you raised your brows at him.

“yeah, jake, why haven’t you asked me yet?” you teased. sunghoon mirrored your expression and the two of you stared a hole into jake. he sunk into his seat.

“i may… have forgotten about the whole thing…” jake murmured. you and sunghoon laughed at him, sunghoon shaking his head as he turned back to you.

“yes, i’ll be your date to summer splash,” you laughed, causing jake’s smile to brighten.

the three of you talked more before they left for sunghoon’s house. before they did, jake leaned across the counter to meet where you already sat halfway. “are we okay?” he asked near your ear in a hushed tone. you nodded, a genuine smile on your face which caused one to appear on his. jake then brought you in for a kiss, which was quickly cut short by sunghoon going, “ugh, get a room!”

heat spread throughout your face and chuckles escaped jake’s mouth as he pressed another kiss to your warm cheeks. he was then pulling out his disposable camera, turning his back to you and holding it up in the air.

“group picture!” jake shouted as he pulled sunghoon towards him. sunghoon rolled his eyes, but smiled for the picture nonetheless. you gave the camera an embarrassed smile as the flash went off. jake chuckled again, bringing your lips together briefly before running off with a disgusted sunghoon.

you: meet me at our spot? jake: already here, baby. you don’t even have to ask! you: rolling my eyes right now… bring the blankets!

a couple days later, you and jake had planned to watch the stars at your shared spot since you were both too busy the day you originally planned. according to jake, it was the best spot to see as many stars as possible in the small town. jake had beaten to you the spot, already having the blankets and even pillows set up right under the opening in the ceiling.

the moon shown perfectly from the opening, illuminating jake and the area he had set up. “hi,” you smiled, setting the basket of wrapped sandwiches onto the blanket and plopping down next to jake. you looked up towards the ceiling at the stars, a soft smile taking over your features.

“hi,” jake replied. he moved closer to you until you were almost cheek and cheek to look up at the stars as well. “i told you it’s the best place to see them,” he added quietly. you looked over to him, smile still on your face, and giggled. jake’s smile widened and he brought you in for a kiss.

the two of you watched the stars for a while in silence, apart from the rustling of one of you unwrapping a sandwich. at some point, the two of you had laid down onto the blankets and pillows, you tucked into jake’s side, head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced patterns onto your arm and hip.

“the whole world outside disappears when it’s just the two of us in here,” jake softly said, causing you to look up at him. his eyes were focused on the stars until he felt the weight of your stare. he looked down, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“you’re right,” you smiled at him, continuing your watch of the stars. “we’re the only people in the world in here.” jake’s fingertips were suddenly lifting your chin to look up at him. once you did, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

smiling against his lips, you kissed him again, sitting up on your elbow to kiss him better. the kiss deepened, so much so that you got the urge to swing your leg across his to straddle him. but before it could go any farther than a kiss, jake pulled away. you both were breathing heavily as you stared into each other’s eyes, lips barely brushing.

“will you be my girlfriend?” jake breathed, searching your eyes for your answer. you giggled a little. it was funny that he even had to ask you. the answer was always going to be yes.

you nodded, smiling widely, “i thought you’d never ask…” you lips connected with his again, this time more passionate than the first. jake sat up onto his elbows, eyes fluttering closed.

“i’m sorry i took so long,” he murmured against your lips.

this time you did give into your urge. throwing your leg over both of his, you wrapped your arms around his neck. jake’s arms immediately came to sit around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you were chest and chest. the kiss was feverish, desperate. it’s what you wanted to do ever since you had gotten to know each other.

fire burned in the pit of your belly and you were overwhelmed with the sudden need to have jake as close to your body as possible. you needed more than his lips on yours and his arms around your waist. you didn’t even realize you grinded down onto him until he broke away from your kiss to let out a small whimper, forehead pressed to yours.

he trailed hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck all while you grinded down against him again. you felt like you were on fire as his lips found yours again and it was the only thing you could do but pull away and take off your shirt.

jake’s eyes landed on your breasts and the lacy bra covering them, but you didn’t let them linger before you were pulling off his shirt as well, completely driven by desire. next you were shimmying off of him until the shorts you were wearing were off too, leaving you only in your bra and panties.

the rational part of your brain finally kicked in when you heard jake unbuckling his belt. you broke away from his kiss, suddenly aware of what the two of you were about to do. heat spread up your neck and across your cheeks and you whispered, “i told you, you’re on timeout.”

jake’s mouth fell open in a shocked smile, hands freezing in place. in order to cool yourself down, you pulled yourself away from him and stood to your feet. turning your back towards him, you made your way to the ocean, stripping off your bra and panties in the process until you were completely naked. you glanced back at him with a playful smile.

you stepped a foot into the water and immediately shuttered at how cold it was, but you made yourself walk the rest of the distance until you were submerged up to your shoulders. you turned towards the cove where jake still sat frozen. “are you coming?” you called, giggling to yourself at the bulge in his shorts.

“you’re such a tease,” jake called back playfully, standing to his feet. you laughed, more teeth chattering than actual laughter. when jake started pulling down his shorts, you averted your gaze, suddenly interested in the ocean horizon.

you heard the pitter-patter of jake’s footsteps and the slight splashing of water behind you as he came closer. “you put on such a show, but now you can’t even face me?” jake said in a husky voice against your ear, chest pressed against your back, causing a shiver to go directly down your spine and your heartbeat to pick up.

jake trailed a wet finger across your shoulder and you inhaled sharply, trying to gain your composure. turning to him, you replied, “if you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the game.” you threw his signature smirk back at him and he laughed, coming closer to you until your noses were brushing up against each other. you tried to ignore the brushing against your thigh, but it was growing harder the more seconds that passed. instead you cupped your hand in the water and lifted it to drip the water onto jake’s head, pulling another laugh out of him.

grabbing your chin, jake lifted your head to kiss you deeply, his tongue dancing in your mouth with yours. pulling away, jake smirked. “you’re going to eat your words once i’m finished,” he said lowly, pressing kisses to the skin beneath your ear.

jake pressed you closer to him, his body heat helping to warm you from the cold water. his lips trailed back up to your ear and he added, “get use to the feeling of your body shaking.”

if your body wasn’t on fire before, it definitely was now. jake’s lips were back on yours, this time rougher. you were sure he could feel your heartbeat racing from how close you were to him, feel the heat creep up your neck with how your bare bodies were against each other. when you pulled away to satiate your burning lungs, jake caught hold of your bottom lip between his teeth. he bit down softly, the corners of his mouth raising at your reaction before letting go.

you hid your face in his chest as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up your shoulder. you resisted the urge to shiver. “jake, i—“ you cut yourself off, too embarrassed to bring the topic up.

“has anyone ever touched you like this?”

jake’s fingers trailed down your sides, stopping just at your hips and you took a sharp inhale. you shook your head as jake continued his kisses, going from up your shoulder to the side of your mouth. “don’t worry, pretty,” he whispered huskily, lips lingering over yours before giving you a feather light kiss. “i’ll be gentle… i promise.”

he intertwined his hand with yours and guided you back to the rock structure where your abandoned late night picnic resided. you laid down onto the blanket, looking up at him with big doe eyes from where your head laid on a pillow. his eyes took in your body finally, eyes widening more at every exposed inch he could see. when they landed on your soaked pussy he smirked subtly.

jake climbed over you, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “are you sure you want this?” he asked you breathlessly. his eyes were squeezed shut and his brows were furrowed, like he was fighting the urge to not ravage you right then and there.

“yes… please. i’m ready,” you whispered.

eyes fluttering open, jake brought his lips to yours again. he then started to kiss down your body, making sure he kept eye contact with you. when you looked away, his gaze too intense, he would immediately stop and grab your chin to look back at him. “you don’t have to be nervous, baby. it’s just me.”

how could you not be nervous? the last time he was this close to your body was when he was eating you out at that beach party. and you were nervous then, too; never having someone attached to your core before. even then, you only remembered bits and pieces from the encounter—jake’s pretty mouth on your clit and the hazy sensation of his fingers inside you, stretching you out—you being too drunk to remember the full thing. this time you were completely, absolutely, sober with none of the confidence the alcohol gave you.

jake kissed right above your core, stopping with a smile against your skin. you thought he was going to speak, but he instead dove straight in, tongue flicking against your clit as his lips sucked.

you immediately moaned out, back arching off the soft fabric beneath you and head throwing back. you gripped the blanket tightly in your hands as jake wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you from moving. he continued his motions, eyes never leaving you. your hand found his wet blonde hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you pulled at them. “please, jake!”

he hummed and you swear you saw stars, moaning loudly and trying to squirm away from his strong grip. “does that feel good?” jake asked you, breath fanning over your throbbing clit. all you could do was nod. “yeah?” jake asked, removing one of his hands from around your thighs.

his other hand rubbed at your clit with the pad of his thumb, sending jolts up your body, as the hand he freed teased at your entrance. you were a spluttering mess, desperate pleas for him to do something other than rub at your clit breaking the silence and clouding your thoughts. you barely even heard the chuckles that escaped jake’s lips as he kept teasing. he waited until you were practically writhing underneath his touch and begging him for more before he finally slid his fingers inside you achingly slow. you barely registered the slight pain, only the pleasure.

“you’re so pretty like this,” jake cooed.

you gasped as his fingers started to move, dragging against your gummy walls. the wetness making you dizzy and bringing tears to your eyes. jake’s pace only grew the more his fingers fucked into you, fingers curling and making your thighs tremble.

just as you moaned out a broken “g-gonna cum!” jake replaced his thumb running circles into your clit with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your poor clit. his hand went to hold your legs open when you tried to squeeze them together, the rope in your stomach about to snap.

when it did finally snap, you were gripping the blankets so hard that the clenching of your fingers started to hurt. you cried out, weakly trying to push jake’s head away with your other hand but getting nowhere. he didn’t stop, lips sucking your clit as squelching sounds emitting from your spent pussy with how your cum now dripped down his fingers still pushing in and out of your entrance.

the vibrations of jake’s laugh was like lighting throughout your body, shocking you to the core. you whimpered and jake finally pulled his lips away, satisfied with helping you ride out your high. he sat up on his knees and you looked up at him through half-closed eyes, brain foggy.

“you ready for more? baby?” jake asked before sticking his cum coated fingers in his mouth while staring down at you. he let out another hum, eyes fluttering closed briefly, “you taste so fucking good.”

you covered your face and sheepish smile with your hands and jake chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss on your lips once he was finished licking you up from his fingers. you could taste yourself on him. “are you ready?” jake asked and you nodded.

“words, pretty. i wanna hear you,” jake added, moving your hands away from your face. your body was on fire still, still reeling from your recent orgasm. jake pressed kisses to your cheeks.

“i’m ready,” you uttered meekly.

jake leaned back and now it was your turn for your eyes to trail along his body, not quite getting the chance when his head was between your thighs making you see other galaxies. his blonde hair fell in his eyes, which he dragged his fingers through to get out of his way. toned body still glistening from your dip naked in the ocean, making you want to run your fingers along the soft skin. and finally… his large hard cock hovering mere centimeters above your still throbbing pussy, precum leaking from his tip.

you didn’t know how you would fit all of him inside you, it barely looked like you could wrap your hand around him. but you were determined and you refused to back down. if you were going to have your first time with anybody, it would be jake sim.

“lift your hips for me, pretty.” your eyes snapped back to jake’s face to see he had dragged a pillow next to the both of you. you did as you were told, knees wobbling slightly, and jake slid the pillow under your hips. he pressed another kiss to your lower stomach.

jake held his leaking cock, looking up at you for confirmation one last time and you nodded. “this is gonna hurt for a second, okay? just take a deep breath.”

you inhaled deeply, waiting in anticipation and slight fear.

he lined the tip of his cock with your entrance, sliding it along your wet arousal and creamy white cum. slowly he began to push himself in and immediately you felt the stretch. you grimaced, resting your head back on the pillows. even with how wet you were with jake fingering you, and your previous release, jake was barely able to get his tip inside before you winced in pain.

“relax, baby, relax,” jake soothed as he kissed the inner part of your thigh. you tried to will your body to loosen up, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. jake rubbed his thumb slowly into your clit, glancing down at you with a look full of concern. you were no doubt squeezing the hell out of him, if it weren’t obvious from the small whimpers leaving his mouth as he slowly pushed in more.

after basically doing breathing exercises and jake giving you soothing kisses, he finally bottomed out, halting his movements so you can adjust to his length and thickness. you moved your arms from where they covered your tear-filled eyes and jake leaned down to kiss your cheek. “you’re doing so well for me, pretty. tell me when to move,” he said softly.

once you felt like you weren’t being split in half, you gave him the go-ahead. jake leaned back again. “do you feel it…” he started. his hand pressed down on your lower stomach and you gasped softly. “right here?” he continued.

you took your lip between your teeth and nodded, “yes… please start moving, jake.” you didn’t know how long you could stand the feel of him completely stretching you out and filling you up. it felt like you were going to burst any minute if he didn’t do something.

“you want it that bad? you’re not scared anymore?” jake grinned and you shook your head. “good, remember what i told you.” he slid his hands up your stomach to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your hardened nipples before settling back down at your hips.

you struggled to remember what he was talking about, you mind going entirely blank. all you could think about was his cock inside you, his hands all over your body, and how you felt everything. was it “i’ll be gentle… i promise,” or “get use to the feeling of your body shaking”? your mind started to spin with how both sentences contradicted each other.

jake grunted as he slowly slid halfway out. “fuck…” he groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs. “you’re so fucking tight—squeezing the shit out of me, baby.” he pushed in a little too fast and you moaned out, half pleasure and half pain.

he continued his slow pace, making sure he didn’t go too fast so he wouldn’t hurt you. your body finally relaxed, eyes rolling back and sensitive walls fluttering around jake’s cock. “faster,” you breathed.

“faster?” jake repeated and you could just hear his smirk. “you want me to fuck you faster?” without a response, jake’s hips snapped to yours. he pulled his cock out until just his tip remained in you. jake hummed, waiting for your reply.

“yes!” you cried out, back arching from the way his cock rutted so deeply into you. your breathing was heavy and your tongue was heavy as you tried to form more words. “y-yes, please fuck me faster,” you whined, speech coming out slurred as your hands clawed at the messy blanket beneath you.

jake leaned down to bring his lips to yours just as he rutted into you once more. you moaned against his lips, the sound cutting off as he kissed you rougher. jake continued pounding into you, not hard enough to hurt you but enough to make sure you felt every inch of him inside you. he took your lip between his teeth as he pulled away slightly before letting go. “f-fuck you drive me crazy. do you know how long i’ve been waiting to do this to you? fuck your perfect pussy like this?”

you barely registered his words, your blown out pupils staring at him hazily as you moaned louder each time his hips connected with yours. jake continued, his words slurring, “and to think that asshole almost had you…” jake let out a wry laugh in between his heavy breaths, his hips moving faster on their own accord. “you’re mine. all mine. can that asshole fuck you senseless like this?”

you bucked your hips up, shaking your head rapidly. you really didn’t know who jake was talking about, but that didn’t matter to you. he was right, nobody can fuck you like he can.

jake kissed you sloppily through your moans, breath hot on your cheeks as he occasionally pulled back for air with the way his chest rose and fell heavily. “that’s it, baby... fucking take it,” he moaned when your back arched again and his cockhead hit deeper. “you’re taking my cock so well. do you like how i split you open like this? do you feel how deep i’m fucking into you, pretty?”

tears streamed down your faces as you moaned out incoherent words, too dumb on jake’s cock to think straight. all you could do was nod and tell him to move faster, clawing at his shoulders until your nails dragged red lines down his back. you never needed someone as much as you needed jake. it was like a fever, making you burn red-hot until every thought consisted of him

you whimpered loudly, trying to press your legs together and squirm away but jake held you in a death grip—making sure your legs stayed spread and your knees stayed pressed to your chest. your thighs shook in his grasp as you twisted from side to side, a squeal leaving your parted lips. “g-gonna cum!” you spoke shakily, whimpers falling from your mouth.

“good, baby. let go for me. cum all over my cock,” jake gritted out, accent heavy, before throwing his head back in a moan. he muttered out curses as his pace increased slightly and then kissed you roughly. he kissed along your jaw and now to your neck, right where you were the most sensitive and leaving goosebumps in his wake. jake sucked pretty markings onto your skin, claiming you further as his.

you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, on the verge of hiccuping just as you felt the cord in your stomach begin to fray. with a particularly hard thrust, wet squelching sounds filling the nighttime air, the cord snapped and you were smearing warm cum all over jake’s cock.

the pillow beneath your hips prevented the cum from dripping out of you except when jake thrusted into you, dribbles of cum leaking out from around the base of his cock. jake leaned his forehead to yours, “f-fuck, baby. you’re taking my cock so well. you feel how well you’re pretty pussy is taking me? it’s l-like your pussy was made for my cock.”

you felt jake twitch inside you before he was filling you up with even more cum, the white liquid completely coating him as he fucked his cum back into you. your nails dug into his shoulders as you cried out from the overstimulation despite bucking your hips up to feel even more, unwrapping yourself from jake’s neck to grab a fistful of the blanket as you shook underneath him. “too m-much, jake! ah—“

jake kissed you hard, moaning softly against your lips. he pulled back and leaned back onto his knees, hand holding the base of his heavy cock that was still buried deep inside you. you managed to sit up on shaky elbows. your poor pussy was glistening with your arousal and painted white you and jake’s mixed cum.

you watched as jake slowly pulled out of you, creamy white liquid covering his softening cock, eyes fixed on how your pussy fluttered around the loss of him. the corners of his mouth pulled up into a wicked smile. you didn’t even notice how he had pulled out his disposable camera, nor the flashes of how fucked out your face looked and how completely ruined by him you were beneath the full moonlight. “good job, baby! i’m proud of how well you did,” jake leaned to kiss you, his cock sliding against your sensitive clit and making you jump. jake chuckled.

you beamed shyly, eyes avoiding his stare and instead focused on how his cum was still inside you. jake reached out his hands and you took them, slowly sitting up fully. his eyes focused on the way your mixed cum spilled down your thighs and dripped onto the blanket. “fuck,” jake murmured.

his eyes trailed up your body and to your swollen lips, his smile growing. you could see it in his eyes what he was thinking: you look the prettiest like this, defiled and my cum drilling out of you. jake kissed you again, softer than all of his previous kisses tonight.

“let’s get you cleaned up, pretty.”

“why are you walking so weirdly?” you mother’s voice startled you. you fiddled with the shear scarf you’re wearing. jake left a lot of love bites on you—most that you were able to cover with makeup but some that shone straight through it no matter how many layers of concealer you put on it. you didn’t really want your mom seeing that and asking a bunch of questions. it was also the height of summer and you could practically see the heatwaves in the air, so you didn’t really want to be sporting a turtleneck right now.

your voice comes out slightly unsteady, “what do you mean?”

your mom comes to stand in front of you, eying you up and down. her gaze flicks back to yours with an analytical look. “you’re walking like a duck. what’s wrong with you?” she questions.

racking your brain for a suitable and believable lie, you rush out, “oh, i just hurt my ankle a little bit on the walk to work yesterday...” her gaze widens. “but don’t worry, mom! it’s nothing serious. i’ve just been trying to not put as much pressure on it is all!” you quickly add.

you definitely weren’t telling her that you lost your virginity last night to the renown player in this small town and you walking funny was the result. no, that would be much too embarrassing. you straightened your walk a little, trying to make it seem like you were okay. you were glad your back was turned to her so it hid your wince of pain. maybe you shouldn’t have told jake to go so fast on your first time…

“we’ll make sure you ice it or something, you don’t need it getting worse,” your mother said before leaving the kitchen, mug in hand. you sighed in relief to yourself as you finished getting ready for work.

jake met you halfway on your journey and you smacked his arm hard whenever he came up next to you. “ow!” he laughed, cradling his arm. “what was that for?”

“that was for making me walk funny and leaving all kinds of love bites all over my skin that i had to try and hide!” you exclaimed, pointing at your neck with a pout. jake laughed, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

you pouted again, “you said you’d be gentle!”

jake pulled down the scarf you were wearing with his free hand. he pressed kisses to your neck, right where the marks were, causing you to squirm away from him from the sensitivity. “i’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “but you did tell me to go faster.”

you rolled your eyes at him and he laughed more. jake leaned down, his lips brushing up against the shell of your ear. “and i did say to get use to the feeling of your body shaking,” he added huskily, accent thick.

“besides, you should see the red lines and crescent marks you left all over my back. i’m a lifeguard, i can’t just put makeup and a scarf over it!” jake mumbled. you laughed at him.

the tank top he was wearing told you he clearly didn’t care if others saw the marks you left. it’s almost as if he wanted to show them off. the two of you continued your walk.

[ YOU HAVE TO SAY “GOODBYE” — 3RD MONTH ] ✈︎ thirty-one days until you return home.

you sighed deeply as you stretched out your tired joints after a particularly long shift. the sun was blaring on your skin all day and despite the thin clothing of your work uniform, it did nothing to save you from the heat. you desperately just wanted to meet up with jake so the two of you could go swimming before the afternoon sun went down.

in the distance down the boardwalk you caught sight of jake. a smile spread it’s way across your face as you excitedly called out to him. jake didn’t seem to hear you, instead turning the corner to where the water fountains were located. you quickened your step as you tried to catch up with him.

you were just about to call his name again as you turned the corner before you froze in your spot. the smile completely dropped from your face and you tucked yourself against the corner of the wall as your eyes widened at the scene in front of you.

jake and hana stood just a few feet from you. hana was pressed against him, arms lifting to wrap around his neck while one of his lingered around her waist, just barely hovering over the bare skin of her torso.

“oh? but you kissed me, so you obviously still have feelings for me!” you heard hana exclaim.

you moved to lean against the wall away from them, pressing your back to the cool bricks. you felt like your world was coming down around you, once again. how stupid—how foolish of you to believe jake. your chest rose heavily as you tried to catch your breath. and what did hana mean by “still”? was she one of his exes this whole time?

suddenly everything started to fall in place. hana’s constant encouragement of you ending things with jake under the guise of being a “good friend”. jake never coming to see you at work when hana was working the same shift as you. your eyes widened as you finally understood why jake was acting weirdly towards you the week leading up to the beach party.

it was hana he saved from drowning. the very same hana you told him was your good friend. you felt so stupid. you tried hard to keep the tears from brimming in your eyes.

you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself off the wall and another as you steadied yourself to go up to them. “—to mouth, …psycho!” you heard jake say distantly, but the drumming in your ears overtook his words.

you stormed up to them and as soon as jake saw you he jumped five feet away from where he and hana were pressed up against each other. a nervous smile quickly appeared on his face and his mouth opened to speak before he got a good look at the state you were in. the smile fell from his face. “y/n, listen to me… it’s not—“

“you know what, i should’ve listened when people kept telling me you were a fucking player,” you swiftly cut him off, venom dripping from your voice with so much ferocity that it shocked even you. “you never cared about me, did you?”

jake opened his mouth again, eyebrows knitting together, but you didn’t let him speak. “is our spot even our spot, or is that where you take all the girls you want to sleep with? make them feel special and like they’re the only girl in the world for a night before tossing them to the side?”

“nobody knows about that place but you. you’re the only one who knows about it, i swear, y/n. and i’m not playing you or tossing you aside. please, let me expl—“ jake started.

“some people are just made for each other and some people aren’t! and clearly… you and jake aren’t meant for each other,” hana butted in, swinging her attention towards you with a smug smirk. it was like she was a completely different person now that the mask was taken off. she put a hand on your shoulder, “i’m your friend, take it from me!”

you harshly shrugged her off, causing her to scoff loudly. you glared at her fiercely. “shut the fuck up, hana!” you and jake spit out at the same time.

you refused to let the hurt creep into your voice, refused to let the two of them win against you. “i thought you were my friend, hana? how could you? the whole time you were only in my ear to try and give yourself the advantage. you’re both pieces of shit,” you said while staring daggers at her. you attention turned to jake.

it was almost impossible to not let the hurt show through. you had really tried, but looking into jake’s eyes was the last nail in the coffin. his eyes were glossed over and he went to reach for you but you backed away. “all you wanted from me was to get your dick wet. you’re such a fucking asshole, i never should’ve let myself get close to you. never should’ve found that stupid spot and never should’ve met you. all it caused was trouble,” you finally spoke, voice quiet as the tears slipped from your eyes.

you turned to leave but jake grabbed your wrist, you refused to turn and back and look at him. if you did, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand your ground because despite everything, you still wanted to be with him.

“y/n… please,” jake breathed, his voice breaking.

you roughly yanked your wrist from his grasp and more tears fell from your eyes. “you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your game anymore. i’ll be gone by the end of the month and we’ll never see each other again. we’re done, jake.”

you inhaled sharply, pushing down a sob as you quickly walked away from the two of them. behind you, jake kept calling your name, but it only pushed you to go faster until you were running. tears blocked your eyes as you let your feet guide you home.

your body collided with a hard chest and you looked up, sniffling and wiping your tears. “what happened?” jay asked as he steadied you.

all you wanted was to be in the comfort of your bed right now. you couldn’t help the broken sob that left your mouth. “you were right… there aren't any winners in the player’s game. i get that now. thanks for telling me, jay,” you pushed out quickly before hurriedly making your way home.

you pushed through the front door and immediately ran over to where your mother stood half in shock. she wrapped her arms around you, her hand rubbing comforting circles in your back. “oh honey, what is it?” she asked softly between your wracked cries.

you just wished this day never happened.

two weeks have passed since you’ve last seen jake. two weeks have passed since you last saw anybody, really. you’ve mainly stuck to the confines of your mother’s childhood bedroom crying until you no longer had any tears to cry. you laid curled up in your bed, completely numb.

your family, especially your worried mother, tried checking up on you to see what happened but you just kept saying the same thing over and over again, “i’m fine.” or at the very least, you will be once you’re back in your hometown and far away from this one. there was only a little over two more weeks left and then you’ll be rid of all this drama for good.

a little over two more weeks and you’ll never have to see or even think about jake sim ever again.

half of you is finally ready to go home. it was funny how you thought this place would give you a pseudo fresh start. the other half of you… it wants some type of closure.

for the two weeks you’ve been tied to this bed you’ve debated on if you wanted to give jake one last and final goodbye. not for him, but for you. to close this chapter of your life once and for all. you sighed as you heard your phone buzz again.

jake: i know you said you needed space, but please let me explain everything. jake: i promise you nothing happened between me and hana. jake: or any other girl besides you for that matter. jake: please talk to me, y/n.

he’s been texting and occasionally calling you since you left him and hana to their own devices two weeks ago. you haven’t answered a single call or message from him. at first, you read every message that came through and listened to every voicemail, but listening to his voice, accent filled with sadness and guilt, made you feel worse.

you ignored the buzzing as a knock sounded on your door. you didn’t have the energy to move from the blank, white wall you were staring at, nevermind talk, so the knocker entered without a word. the bed dipped beside you and a hand was placed on your shoulder.

“honey, there’s lunch downstairs if you’re hungry,” you mother spoke, softly. you said nothing. you heard her defeated sigh as she stood to her feet.

“mom?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, as you turned to her. you caught a glimpse in the mirror of your red-rimmed puffy eyes. you looked like you went through the ringer. your mom froze briefly before turning back to you with a hopeful smile. “can we catch an early flight back home?” you continued.

your mother’s smile faltered slightly, but she nodded sadly. just then, another knock was heard. this time you recognized it as the front door. your mom gave you one last sad smile before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. you went back to staring at the same blank, white wall. a moment later your mother came back.

“it’s for you.”

you sighed softly and pulled yourself up from the bed. you felt like a zombie with your red eyes and dark circles and pajamas that hung limply off your body as you made the trek to the front door. with another sigh, you opened it, breath catching in your throat.

jake stood on the other side, blonde hair looking like he hasn’t brushed it a day in his life and the same red eyes and dark circles as you. he had dark brown roots sprouting from his scalp, despite him always making sure to keep them touched up. he looked rough, but you suppose you didn’t look any better.

“y/n…” jake breathed, like he couldn’t actually believe he’d ever see you standing in front of him again.

in the corner of your vision you saw your mom exit down the hallway to her room, giving the two of you some privacy. you didn’t hear anyone else in the house, so your aunt and cousin must’ve been out. you resisted the urge to slam the door shut in jake’s face. “i don’t want to see you,” you spoke sternly, a bite in your tone.

“i won’t be able to live with myself if you leave believing in a lie. please hear what i have to say,” jake pleaded.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you fought back tears. seeing him was too much. everything, every emotion came slamming against you like a tsunami and you wobbled on your feet. you inhaled a shaky breath and opened your eyes as tears fell from them. “i. don’t. care. i don’t care what you have to say, i don’t want to hear it!” you shuddered, voice progressively getting louder as more and more tears fell from your eyes and his.

you shut your eyes again and focused on steadying your breathing. a hand came to rest on your upper-back. “i think you should go,” you heard your mother’s voice say protectively. you didn’t open your eyes again until you heard jake’s retreating footsteps. only then did you see his defeated retreating figure.

your mom pulled you into a hug and shut the door, effectively blocking your view of jake. you buried your face in her chest as a sob overtook your whole body. your mother held you close, rubbing comforting circles in your back.

the next day you couldn’t get the vision of jake at your doorstep out of your mind. it’s all you thought about all night. the tears that fell from his eyes and his defeated stance as he ushered away. you decided on the half of you that wanted closure.

you: meet me at your spot.

despite you sending that message as you were already halfway there, jake was still there before you like he always was. he was pacing around when you entered, looking even worse than he did yesterday. when he turned and saw you, he immediately started, “y/n, i—“

you held up a hand to stop him. you didn’t come here to hear his excuses. “don’t speak,” you said, and you sounded so done with the world. like nothing even mattered anymore. “i’m not here to hear whatever excuses you’ve come up with, i’m here merely for closure.”

jake’s brows furrowed as you talked and his shoulders slumped. a look of confusion rang loudly on his face as he tried to piece together what you were saying. “i’m going back home early—a couple days from now, actually. so this is goodbye, jake.” you turned to leave but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“wait…” jake murmured with a pleading gaze. he pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and pressed it into the hand that held your wrist until your grip tightened around it. you looked down briefly and looked back up at jake with a melancholic look.

“please,” jake begged, voice a whisper. “please don’t go.”

you shook your head at him and went to pull your wrist from his grasp but he held on tighter, refusing to let you slip through his fingers again. “what about the rest of our bucket list—summer splash? we were supposed to go together… and i was supposed to show you more of the hidden spots around town—you can’t leave yet, y/n. you can’t.”

you looked away from him and the way his voice broke as he spoke to you. you pulled your wrist again to escape the shaking from his hands. this time you were able to break free. you shook your head again, “goodbye, jake.”

you didn’t look back at him as you sped away, over the rocks and through the warm sand as tears fell once again from your eyes. you knew if you did you’d stay, and you just didn’t know how much more heartbreak your heart could take. you had to leave, there was no other option. if you looked back at him, you would’ve stayed forever.

as you and your mother packed your things for your upcoming flight, the letter jake gave you burned a hole through your brain from how much you were thinking about it. the feather-light paper weighed a ton of bricks everytime you picked it up that you stuck it in the pocket of your suitcase to hopefully forget about it. you didn’t.

it was all you could think about as you said your goodbyes to your family and as you entered the airport to wait for your flight. you didn’t want to read it, but a part of you had to know what the contents of the letter were.

you slipped the letter out of the pocket it was in as you were boarding your flight, making sure to keep a tight hold of it so you wouldn’t lose it anywhere. only when your mother had fallen asleep did you unfold it and read jake’s words, inhaling sharply as your eyes scanned the first line.

to my love, my one and only,

i’ve never really written a letter to someone before. as i told you, i’m not really the best at expressing my emotions, but i’ve run out of options to get my feelings across to you. i really do hope you read this.

where do i start? from the beginning, i guess… when i pulled you out from the water, you were the prettiest girl i had ever seen. i’ll admit that then, i only saw you at face value. i only saw what you could do for me, and not you as a person. but then i thought that it was fine because it was likely that i’d never see you again, until i saw you at our spot.

something in my brain just automatically clicked and i had to get to know you; know your name and all of your interests and hobbies and every single little mundane thing about you. i just knew i had to know you. put aside my ways and be someone worthy of even being your friend. so that’s what i did, or at least, that’s what i tried really hard to do. it turns out when you’ve screwed over as many people as i did, karma comes to bite you in the ass quick.

but even then, i couldn’t help falling in love with you. i wanted to spend every waking moment with you, just breathing the same air. unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from fucking up repeatedly. i got jealous, and albeit—even a little possessive, and got out of line. i really hurt you and words can’t describe how sorry i am.

i’ll say it once, and i’ll say it a million more times if i have to. i meant what i said when i told you that you’re the only want i wanted. not hana, not some random other girl, you. you’re the one i want, the one that i desperately need, and now you’re slipping through my fingers because of my own dumb actions.

i should’ve been honest with you and maybe things wouldn’t have ended like this. i’m sorry that hana and i’s past ruined our relationship, and i’m sorry that i let so many things come between us to ruin it as well.

about two years ago, hana and i dated. it didn’t last very long, only four months, but she’s made my life hell ever since trying to get back with me. no, i didn’t cheat on her or anything of that sort, we just didn’t click. and i don’t know if it was my reputation or what, but she’s been trying to tell me in any way she could that that was a mistake.

i don’t know how much you overheard, but none of it was true. she cornered me and wrapped herself around me, saying how i must’ve still had feelings for her since we “kissed.” the kiss in question being me giving her mouth to mouth and saving her life. i told her that she was a psycho to think that mouth to mouth—saving a person’s life—was kissing. that’s when you found us.

i would do anything to fix this, anything for another chance with you. prove to you that i’m someone you can be with and not have to worry about what my next move will be. if i’m being completely honest—and i’m not saying this to try and manipulate you or anything, so please don’t take it that way—but over the course of the summer i really have fallen for you, y/n. with these unfortunate circumstances, it made me realize that i love you, i really do. and i’ll fight for you, because our relationship can’t end on this note. i refuse.

i’m so sorry for everything i’ve done and everything that has happened because of me. and the worst part is, i’m not sure if i’ll ever even be able to tell you any of this in person. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever even see you again, but i have have hope that i will. like the poets say, or whatever, two people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be.

no matter how long it take, i’ll wait for you.

i’m also sorry for this shitty fucking letter, i tried to be all poetic and in tune with my emotions, but i got do clue how to do any of that shit. i hope my emotions still shine through, though. i love you.

always yours, jake

you clamped a hand over your mouth as you suppressed your sobs, looking at the letter through your now blurry vision. you didn’t know how to feel, if you were being honest with yourself. it took your mind a while just to process everything he was saying. the one thing that stuck with you at the moment was the fact that he loved you. jake loved you, and you were coming to the startling realization that you loved him too.

you’ve never loved anyone romantically, but the feeling was undeniable as anything but. you loved him and he loved you.

tucking the letter neatly and safely into the pocket of your carry-on bag, you tried to focus on everything that has happened this summer. tried to name every emotion that came up and categorize every thought. you still didn’t come up with an inkling on how to feel. even if jake’s words were true, which you suspect they were, that doesn’t change all the hurt he put you through because of his selfishness.

but still, you regretted ending everything how you did. now you were millions of miles in the air far away from where jake was and the only thought in your head was how you missed him already. how you wished you kissed him one last time.

how you wished you were next to him laying under the stars where the rest of the world melted away.

but it was too late. you had already made your decision, and you had no choice but to stick with it.

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

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litchifaerie · 5 months ago

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hii! i hope you’re doing well!!

can i get a jace fic where she’s his younger sister and she’s just really dependent on him, and like follows his around and tried to stay w him while he’s really protective of her especially from the greens

pairings: protective!jace x valeryon(strong)!reader

warnings: not quite angst unless the last line. but the tension is there, fluff i suppose, romantic tension, canon typical incest. if anything else let me know, MAJOR SPOILER FOR FIRE & BLOOD/FUTURE HOTD

word count: 1.8k <3

masterlist

a/n: I am sorry i have been tardy with my promise but here is your much awaited request!!

You liked it here. Laying in bed, reading a book of poems while your mother combed through your hair. Rhaenyra always had a soft spot for her only daughter, caving in and allowing every reasonable whim you had. “Mother” you speak slowly, putting the book down and holding it close to your chest. Rhaenyra stops her gentle movement, looking down at you with fondness, “yes my child”?

“Can we stay here in king’s landing for longer?” you ask, “I do not wish to leave grandsire’s side yet. The maesters do not bring news of improvement any longer and I fear….” You trail off not wanting to word it out loud. Rhaenyra knew of the gravity of her father’s health but she feared the wedge between her children and her half siblings will only give rise to new fights and arguments every day.

“You know we can’t my dove”, she pets your head affectionately, “who will look after Dragonstone with us gone?”

“Please”, you request sitting up and turning your back to face her, “I do not want to risk not being here when he passes away and miss my chance at a last good bye.” Even Rhaenyra couldn’t argue with your words. Your request comes from a place of adoration for your grandfather, he was quite fond of his elder granddaughter, but Rhaenyra also contemplated what can go wrong if she isn’t here for her father’s death. No matter the legitimacy of her being named heir to the throne, she is well aware of the whispers at court, the scheming of the hand and the queen. Aegon Targaryen cannot be king if she is here to take control of the situation.

“It’s settled then” Rhaenyra agrees after a beat of silence. “We shall stay here for as long as you desire.” A smile of gratitude makes its way on your face at your mother’s words and you are quick to embrace her “Thank you mother”. Rhaenyra chuckles, rubbing soothing circles on your back “Now rest my dove, it has been a hectic day.” She leans in to kiss your forehead “sweet dreams”.

You make your way beneath the sheets, head resting comfortably on the pillow “Farewell mother”. With one last look at you Rhaenyra steps out of the room. The door closes softly behind her, letting the dim glow from the candles lull you into sleep.

Morning arrives gently, with sunshine streaming through the windows casting a soft glow in your room. The ladies assigned for your care had let themselves in, rousing you from your sleep and ushering you to the bath to get ready for the day.

The baths at King’s Landing were more majestic than back home. You take your time soaking in the warm water with jasmine oil and rose petals, sighing in pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to get dressed with the help of the ladies and having your breakfast alone, opting for some calm in the morning knowing your brothers and uncles will inevitably destroy any sense of peace in the coming hours.

“I’d like to take a stroll through the keep, alone. Much has changed since I’ve been away.” The guard assigned for your duty only nods at your command as you make your way out of the room. The seven-pointed star glares at your face at every turn you make, a stark contrast to the regal décor the keep had in your childhood.

“Sister! Wait!” comes a voice from your right. You stop turning around only to be faced with a panting Jacaerys. “Brother” you greet with a slight smile “You are up early today” you tease. “I was looking for you” says Jacaerys, ignoring your teasing. “I was wondering if you were alright after last night’s events”.

You slightly wince at the memory of Jace throwing a punch at Aemond and Aegon and Luce starting a brawl of their own. Your cousin Baela even tried jumping only for you to grab her by the waist as you yelled for them to stop.

“I’m alright” you dismiss his worries. “It was just a graze”. Aemond’s elbow had hit you in the cheek causing you to yelp in pain. Aemond’s actions did stop midway not expecting you to be so near and get hurt but it only spurred Jace even more as he landed even stronger punches than before at his uncle’s jaw.

Jace gently reaches a hand up to caress your face. “Its good it didn’t bruise” he thumbs at your cheek, “I’d not let it go if that brute ruined your pretty face”. And there it was again. Jace always had a penchant for using certain choice of words which reddened your face.

“Jace” you warn, “Do not fall prey to our uncle’s provoking. You know both of them only say words to rile us up.” Jace let’s go off your face sighing “I can’t help it if they accuse us of…” Accuse us of what? The Truth?

The somber tone in his voice lets you know of his mood dropping. It was only the start of the day and you will be damned if you let your older brother sulk so early. “I’d like to accompany you to your training if that’s alright with you?” Nothing makes him happier than being able to show off his skills to his younger sister and you are well aware of that. Jace is quick to look at you with shining eyes and agrees to your request.

You follow after him as he excitedly tells you of a new method he learnt from Daemon, smiling at his words and nodding when you think its appropriate to let him know you are attentive. Jace liked having your sole attention on him. It was just you and him in the beginning. His mother told him that the first time he saw you when he was a boy of two, you had looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. Your crying would only stop if your older brother was there to shush you with his toys. You were the happiest baby when in his presence, trailing behind him like a little duckling, a trait which you still carry. Nothing soothes your nerves like being near Jace.

You watch as Jace spars with a squire. A sheen of sweat on his forehead making him look godly in the late morning sun. “I do not think its fit for a lady to be here niece” comes a chilling voice from right behind you, closer than you’d like that voice to be. “Uncle” you greet, your eyes not wavering from Jace at all, “I think I can go wherever I’d like. The Red Keep is my home as well after all.” Aemond smirks at your reply. Out of all the strong bastards you were his favourite to toy with. The boys were quick to throw punches but the ability to sometimes make you unable to come with a witty response brought him immense satisfaction.

“Hmm” he hums, coming to stand by your side, a little too close for comfort, “I hope my elbow didn’t cause you any harm princess. It would be unfortunate to see your brown eyes blacken from my unintentional hit.” Brown eyes. He emphasized it. He is trying to make you take the bait again. And his backhanded words of comfort and presence did unnerve you more than you’d like to admit.

“If you wish to see how real men train perhaps you should watch me instead of your no good of a brother. He moves like a boy who was gifted a sword a day ago” Aemond whispers in your ear. His breath hitting your skin makes your skin crawl and you shiver in disgust, moving back and putting a distance between yourself. “No thank you” you decline politely. “I prefer my brother over all”. Aemond only gives a sly grin at that, “Even in your bed?” he mocks.

What was stopping you from slapping this bastard from even suggesting such nonsense. You grit your teeth in frustration, almost hitting him yourself when a protective arm wraps around your waist bringing you back into a sturdy chest. “Who my sister brings into her bed is none of your concern dearest uncle” Jace says cooly. “And I suggest you refrain from using certain phrases that will bring the honor of my sister into question” he raises his brows at Aemond challenging him. “I’d hate to dislocate your jaw over some misunderstanding, we are family after all.”

One thing Aemond had learned from the beginning was Jace will never lose a chance to be your protective guard dog. He could hit two birds with one stone by simply choosing to pick on you instead. Why rile up one Strong bastard when you can rile up two? “I’d like to see you try” Aemond grins leaning in to challenge your brother.

“Jace” you whisper, “Don’t.” Aemond chuckles at your warning. “Aww will poor Prince Jace listen to his sister like an obedient mutt?” Jace clenches his jaw at his statement. “He isn’t worth it Jace” you interlock your fingers with Jacaerys’s trying to tug him away. Once you are able to move him from his spot, you lead Jace away and turn to Aemond to give him a disgusting sneer “You’re pathetic.”

Aemond's grin widens, his eye gleaming with amusement as he watches you walk away, Jace's hand still in yours. "Run along, little dove," he calls out mockingly, but you don't look back.

As you and Jace walk through the courtyard, the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. "You shouldn't let him get to you," you whisper, glancing up at him with a reassuring smile. "He only seeks to provoke."

Jace nods, but his grip on your waist tightens protectively. "I won't let him hurt you," he promises, his voice low and determined. "Not ever." You squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence. "I know, Jace. I know." You kiss his cheek gently hoping to calm him “No one can hurt me with you breathing down my neck” you giggle trying to lighten the mood.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “I won’t let any harm come to you ever. No one can hurt you.” His arms squeeze around your waist.

You always felt restless without Jace, and nothing brought you more comfort than being in his arms. You never have to worry about being safe with your brother around.

But years later when you crumble at the sight of the body of Jacaerys Velaryon with an arrow through his neck, no one is prepared for the wail of anguish that leaves your throat at not having your Jacaerys beside you anymore.

#jia.writes ♡#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys #jace targaryen #jace velaryon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 23 days ago

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October 30 - Stockholm Syndrome

pairing: dom!Wanda x sub!Reader

summary: You find yourself fixated and dependent on Wanda, but you don't mind that much as she traps you deeper under her spell.

content warnings: obsession, manipulation, stockholm syndrome

word count: 1.3k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

You didn’t know how long it had been. Wanda didn’t let you leave the basement often, but the last time you were outside the snow had finally started melting. If you had to guess, it had been a couple of months.

It wasn’t the worst house to be trapped in, even if you were confined to the basement at the beginning. Wanda hadn’t trusted you at first, her eyes watchful and her hands securing cuffs on your hands before she let you roam the rest of the house.

Your room (you shuddered as you realized you’d begun to think of it as yours), was cozy enough. There were books, soft blankets and a large bed with crimson sheets. The door was locked whenever Wanda was gone though, so you often took a nap or read a book while hoping Wanda would return with more.

The best nights were when Wanda would let you out and pull you onto the couch in the living room. There was a large TV there, and Wanda would even let you drink a bit of wine while watching a show if you’d behaved yourself.

After the first few times of this, Wanda finally took your cuffs off. You’d rejoiced, a genuine smile on your lips as you’d thanked her quietly. The look in those green eyes was nothing short of adoration, and you’d blamed your flush on the warm fireplace heating the room.

You began to find yourself craving Wanda’s touch, and she never denied you. When she’d bring you food, you’d quickly jump up, standing near her as the need for human connection grew. It was a product of your isolation, you told yourself. You weren’t going to let yourself actually like the woman.

Sometimes, though, she’d smile at you gently and cup your face with her hands. You would feel yourself relaxing into her touch, something that felt like obsession rising within you.

One time, Wanda was gone for three days. She’d left enough food and water in your room for you to survive, but by the second day, you were too distraught to even touch it. The only thing you could think about was how lonely you were, and the fear of her never returning consumed every waking moment.

It gripped you, paralyzing you as you remained in bed, your fingers gripping the pillow you were holding to your chest. Fuck, you actually missed the woman. You missed her soft hair and her slightly blackened fingertips (even if you were too scared to ask what that was all about). The only thing you wanted was for her to return and wrap you up in a hug. You’d even be happy with cuddles on the couch, your face buried in her neck as her sweet vanilla perfume surrounded you.

You hadn’t even realized that you’d begun to crave the woman. You should have felt disgusted with your own thoughts, but you just couldn’t stop thinking about her. The thoughts swirled in your head, obsession forming with each passing minute.

By the time Wanda returned, your face was wet with tears, your heart hurting from the distance she’d put between you two. You needed her, needed to feel her touch, to hear her voice, and to watch those intelligent green eyes as they followed you.

“Oh, my darling,” Wanda said, stepping into your room.

At the sound of her voice, your head had shot up. You were weak, your muscles shaking and trembling as you’d practically lept up and rushed toward her. You’d fallen after a few steps, your hands clutching at the fabric of her pants as you pressed yourself as close as possible.

“Wanda, please,” you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking. You knew that you looked pathetic, but you didn’t care. “Don’t leave me again, I can’t take it. Please, promise me you won’t leave. Don’t abandon me again.”

Smiling, Wanda felt satisfaction rush through her. This is what she’d been waiting for. She’d known that she was close to breaking your mind, and as much as it hurt her to do so, leaving you for a couple of days was the perfect thing to fully break you.

It was perfect and utterly arousing to see you so broken at her feet. Wanda was prepared, her fingers itching to mold you into her perfect partner, your mind and body pliable under her scarlet wisps. She was gentle with you, sinking down to her knees and pulling you onto her lap.

“Hush, sweetheart. I’m right here,” she murmured, a smile on her face. If you’d looked closely, you would have seen the dark, satisfied edge to it, but you were focused solely on the relief that her strong arms around you provided. “I won’t leave again, I promise. I’ll bring you with me next time, if you’re good.”

“I’ll be good,” you gasped out, your voice desperate. Your fingers dug into her skin, clutching her like a lifeline. You supposed that she was, at this point. You didn’t see yourself surviving without her. “I’ll be perfect for you.”

“Yes, love, you will be.” Wanda’s voice holds a promise within it, her arms picking you up with the help of her scarlet wisps. She carries you to the bed, getting into position as you wrap yourself around her.

“You’ll sleep in my bedroom from now on,” Wanda says with a note of finality.

Looking up at her, you just feel happiness bubbling up within you. “No more basement?” you ask, your voice soft and trembling with hope.

Wanda looks at you, satisfied with the thoughts of happiness and utter obsession working their way through your mind. She plucks at them, wrapping her scarlet magic around them and strengthening them slightly. Eventually, she wouldn’t need to help you, but you were so delicate right at the beginning. Wanda didn’t want to risk losing you, not when she finally had you.

“No more basement,” Wanda promised, rubbing your back as you buried your face in her neck with a happy smile on your face. Your fingers clutch her waist tightly, and you feel your face grow hot at the feeling of her thigh nestled between yours.

“You didn’t eat,” Wanda’s voice is low, her disappointment evident.

“Missed you,” you respond, feeling shame flood through you. Fuck, you should have taken care of yourself. The last thing you wanted was for Wanda to leave you again, and you whimper at the very thought, pulling her closer.

Wanda chuckles at your thoughts. “I’m not going to leave you, my sweet pet. But, I am going to make us dinner.”

With that, she pulls you to your feet and gently leads you to the kitchen. You don’t do much, just sitting in the chair and watching her as feelings rise up and well within you. Everything is just… so much. You feel relief, pain at the thought of her leaving, and a deep ache that you don’t want to identify.

Biting your lip in thought, you watch Wanda as she moves around the kitchen. Her hands move with practiced ease, her blackened fingers beautiful as she stirs a pot of soup. She chops vegetables quickly, the action confident as you feel tendrils of happiness and obsession mixing together within you.

Wanda served you soup and wine for dinner, sitting close as she ate her own meal. Her hand never leaves your thigh, and you lean into her as you eat.

It’s comfortable, soft and everything you’d hoped for. The way Wanda looks at you with sparkling eyes makes you blush, your head ducking as your fingers nervously reach down to grab her hand. You’ve never done that before.

Those green eyes light up as you sigh at the feeling of her soft skin beneath your fingers. Her hand twists to hold yours, and you marvel at how perfectly your hands fit together. Looking up, you find Wanda’s eyes on you, hunger and something else swirling behind her irises as you gently squeeze her hand.

This is perfect. A beautiful woman who was in love with you, a promise to never leave easily slipping past her lips as her hands comforted and grounded you. You could feel your heart fluttering, something warm wrapping around your heart and mind as you gazed back at her.

You never want to leave.

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callmerainman · 10 months ago

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Alastor with a pure hearted s/o

a/n I'm fully aware that Alastor is aroace. My scenarios are meant to be interpreted as a deep, unconditional love, not necessarily romantic. I'm not aroace but I'm all for educating myself, so please if something's off let me (gently) know. Hope you enjoy :)

TW! canon typical violence

being a twisted person is not a requirement to reincarnate in Hell. Sins depend on religion, culture, societal norms. You were more of a victim, in fact.

you never got used to being in Hell. Surviving not only the Extermination but also the inhabitants becomes harder and harder every year.

it's kill or be killed, but you just can't bring yourself to do any harm to anyone, even if it means risking your own life.

as soon as you hear about princess Charlie Morningstar's new hotel for souls who want a second chance, your bags are PACKED

it's not like you really need redemption, you are pure hearted already. it's more a matter of understanding the reasons why you ended in Hell and coming to terms with them. maybe then the gates of Heaven would open for you. it's also a safer place for you to be.

Charlie welcomes you excitedly; Angel Dust, Husk and Vaggie aren't that friendly at first since your personalities don't match, but they eventually grow fond of you

and then there's, well...the Radio Demon.

you never met an Overlord before, and Alastor was supposed to be gone for years. But his presence wasn't frightening. A big smile spread across his face, he welcomed you like a gentleman.

you heard stories about his lifestyle and even previous murderous acts as a human, but for some reason you just can't bring yourself to fear him.

at first you were kinda pathetic to him. so naive, out of touch with the evils of Hell. he didn't dislike you. just thought your life was so easy to throw away in a society like that and that you wouldn't last long.

it seems like you two don't have much to share. he just wanders in his den, while you spend time in your room. you greet each other and have small talks, but nothing more than that. that's until he hears jazz music play behind your door.

he mentions it during dinner, and you start talking about your interest in 30s jazz music, especially the one of the Roaring 20s. you come from a later era, but you're very much cultured about jazz and its forms and that's enough for Alastor to develop an interest in you.

he has so many jazz artists recommendations, and you share some of your favourite pieces with him through your gramophone.

without even noticing, Alastor starts spending hours in your room just listening to music. some time even practicing swing dancing. and talking about jazz culture all around the world, and entertainment in general. he has many fun facts about the history of radio too!

the others at the hotel notice your growing bond and low-key support it, in their own, weird way. Angel Dust is especially convinced that you two are hooking up, as Husk not-so-kindly explains that it's more likely for Alastor to ascend to Heaven than express interest in sex.

you would start to open yourself up a bit to the Radio Demon. he doesn't understand why, since it didn't ask or never showed much empathy. but he just can't bring himself to tell you to stop. he wants to listen.

you manage to make him talk about some glimpses of his own life and thoughts. you knew that he was the complete opposite of you. incline to Evil, an enjoyer of all things that made your stomach clench. but he's still the one person who spends hours with you just listening to both jazz and your fears.

one day, Alastor decided that in no way you are walking around the city without him. it's just too dangerous for you. he tries to teach you how to use weapons and demonic powers to defend yourself but he doesn't feel like you can make it into Hell by yourself.

you like strolling through the streets with him, arms intertwined, chatting and laughing even if demons around you are shitting their pants just by seeing the Overlord walking around.

but one day, Alastor can't find you.

you're not in your room, or in the Hotel hall. No one saw you that morning. He starts to feel something he never felt in his life: fear.

he darts out the Hotel, trying to find you. that's when he sees you just a few streets away.

a group of animal-like demons is encircling you. you are on your knees, arms over your head to protect yourself. A lion-demon is holding a knife over you and your arms are covered in cuts. you hold something close to your stomach.

that's when Alastor realized that he had feelings for you.

when he threw himself between you and the demons attacking you.

it's the first time you see Alastor without a smile. his teeth are gritted, face full of unprecedented violence and will to kill, breathing heavily in and out in a sort of animalistic way, but there's no trace of his characteristic smile you love.

his body starts to morph into his full demon form. his horns grow exponentially, his body too as it hovers menacingly on top of your aggressors as they start to feel a pure fear they never felt before.

in a matter of a second, they are gone. Alastor has always been a calculated, elegant killer, but this time he only felt a raw, ferocious instinct to kill.

as he's done, he turns around towards you. he doesn't want to, but he snaps.

"W̶̞̐H̷̻͒Y̷̰̅ ̶̠͛D̸͕́I̸͔̍D̴̿͜ ̷̯̇Y̶̭͌Ỏ̴̬U̵̖̍ ̷̛͎Ģ̷̕O̸̩͑ ̷̹̈́O̶̮͆U̸͍̇T̴̙͆ ̷̧̀W̴͓̅I̷̞͑T̸̗͒H̴̹͒O̴̺̓Ṷ̵̂T̵̺̚ ̵̢́M̴̜̅E̶̬̋?̸̻͋!̸̦͂"

you flinch, you never saw Alastor lose his composure. he was always so calm and collected. his voice was static, choppy.

the tears that were cornering your eyes start streaming down your face "I-I..."

"Ţ̶̈Ḧ̴͙́Ė̵̩Ỳ̷̳ ̷̳̒Ã̸̡L̷̛͚M̶͇̚O̸͈̔S̴̜̎T̸͚̊ ̷̤͝K̷͊͜I̵̺͝L̵͚̎L̴̤̆Ẽ̴͖D̶͍̈́ ̵̻͝Y̵̰̑O̸̜͘Ù̶͍!̵̻͝ ̸͓̾D̴̯͒O̶̅͜Ṉ̶̌'̷̹͒T̵͎͋ ̶̺́Y̴̹͂O̶͍̅U̴̘͌ ̵̘̾Û̷̪N̸̩̊D̵͎̋Ȅ̴͜R̵̮͂S̸̰̄T̸̝̅A̵͓͘N̷̩͂Ḏ̴̀?̵̗̍!̸̭̎"

suddenly, your bleeding arms fall from your head. you expose what you've been protecting all along.

a vinyl, a really old record from Alastor's favourite jazz artist. a rare find.

"I-I know but...tomorrow it's your death anniversary and I wanted to give this to you...as a surprise. I'm sorry"

Alastor's face immediately softens. Eyebrows raised, smile still not seen. He's just surprised and...moved.

He doesn't say anything, he just picks you up in his arms and takes you back to the Hotel where he bandages your arms.

Feeling guilty for putting yourself in danger, you ask Alastor to come to your room in order to apologize to him.

As he closes the door behind him, he says that there's no need to apologize.

"I'm...glad that you are still in your room. Listening to jazz, alive"

words didn't come easy, but he did feel the need to say it. you smile at him.

you propose to put his gift on the gramophone and so you do. music starts to flow between the small space you shared with the Radio Demon.

that's when you and Alastor start slow dancing. his arms around your waist, yours encircling his neck. his smile is back, but soft and...almost loving.

with his silent agreement, you reach for his cheek and graze it.

"Thank you for saving me, Alastor. Even if you are everything I distance myself from in this life...I'm glad you are the person that you are with me. In my next life, I'll make sure to be a sinner again if it means dancing with you like this"

Alastor now understands his feelings. It's something deeper than care. It's love. But not the same love you reserve to a friend and not even romantic. It's something deeper, more visceral.

He doesn't answer, just closes his eyes and leans in to press his forehead against yours.

you later fall asleep on your bed to the quiet sound of the gramophone playing, hands intertwined on Alastor's chest.

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #alastor x reader #alastor x reader headcanons #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #writers on tumblr #headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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sayruq · 3 months ago

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Hi world, it’s Eman Please read this as if I’m a member of your family, may be your sister , daughter or a friend and as if my family who’s under death now is yours.Today, I reach out with a heavy heart and a place for your kindness and support . I am not just seeking to fundraise. I am seeking to save the lives of my beloved family members who are currently trapped in a nightmare. All of whom depend on your generosity to escape Gaza Strip to Egypt , get the medical help needed and begin a new life where we are seeking safety. This is me Eman

My name is Eman , a girl in her thirties (39- years old) and a computer science graduate .Iam speaking from the heart of Gaza, a place that was once vibrant with life and has now become painfully marked by the effects of wars that spared no war. I live with my mother, Etemad (60 years old ) and my father, Saed (70 years old . My mother and my father

My sister Khaleda is ( 41 years old ) She has four children. Three sons .Saed ,3 years old. Abdul Rahman, 5 years old ,and Adam, 9 years old .Her daughter, Lyan, is (4 years old) .

Khaleda's Children

Iam suffering of one of the most common generic disorders which is thalassaemia. It’s so tiring and difficult disease. And due to the war, I lack medical care and treatments. My health is getting worse and deteriorating as treatment became insufficient. Iam in need to plasma exchange regularly ,the thing that my family find so difficult because of blockage and destruction of hospitals , in addition to the risks of going out our shelters every day as the bombs everywhere . My family deserve the opportunity to live a full life. I can’t bear the thought of losing any member of them.

My father, Saed, is suffering from heart disease .He has blockage of the heart arteries . Doctors advised him not to expose himself to the news and events that affect his mental and physical health. He urgently needs to undergo the necessary tests and surgery.

My mother, Etemad, has chronic diseases (blood pressure and diabetes ) . She needs regular follow up and medical treatment .She is struggling to obtain the necessary medications , waiting too long in clinics for subpar alternatives if found.

My family and I were very close knit enjoying simple pleasure and cherishing moment together. Now all that remains are memories scattered among the rubble of our destroyed home in Gaza. We witnessed death with our own eyes and were forced to flee our home in fear of our lives .During this time , we also received the news of the deaths of several relatives and friends due to indiscriminate bombardments. Now, I find Myself with my family displaced in a plastic tent in Al-Zawaydah , our last refuge, living inhuman conditions and enduring unimaginable hardships along the way.

We’re currently sleeping on the ground in a tent that does not protect us from the heat of summer or the cold of winter . We are located there ,with no access to essential items like clean drinking water , electricity , healthy food and cooking gas .Death and destruction followed us everywhere , Our home was bombed and bulldozed and our hopes and dreams were shattered along with it .We are enduring a suffering that is beyond anything you can imagine. Me with my family are in a very critical situation in tents .Tasks are divided among us to sustain ourselves. My father fetches water if ever found from a distant area early every morning. My mother cooks and washes our clothes using traditional methods .This is why we are asking for your help, as we are still in danger in South Gaza and can’t receive the medical care needed. Our new life in tents

Since the beginning of Israel’s assault on Gaza, we were forced to evacuate several times leaving behind our home and the future we had been working towards. Walking without carrying our personal belongings, our clothes or even money in search of a safe place until we managed to escape to the south of Gaza Strip .

Gaza, a place that I call home has been transformed into a landscape of destructions and despair . The reality we live in is one of the constant fear, where the sounds of explosions drown out the dreams and aspirations of its people .In what seems like an instant , everything my family and I held there had been ripped away by the chaos of war . A side of our suffering in tents

This campaign is not just about escaping Gaza. It’s about reclaiming a future where my family can live without the shadow of fear , where we can get the medical care and treatment needed and where we can once again embrace the joys of life without grief . The price of leaving Gaza is high and far beyond my family means. so I have initiated this fundraising campaign to urgently gather funds to help my family leave Gaza as soon as possible. The funds collected will be carefully allocated for the following purposes: Firstly , it will contribute to providing a safe passage to Egypt , which is a vital step for the family’s safety. Secondly: covering the medical treatment. Costs and medications for me , my father and my mother . In addition to the need for comprehensive examinations in Egypt to ensure our safety after the war. Thirdly : the funds will be allocated to provide temporary accommodation for the family in Egypt, giving them stability and the opportunity to explore the best path for their future . Finally , it will cover initial living expenses in Egypt granting the family the time and space needed to relax and rebuild their lives after the ordeal of the genocide in Gaza .

Eman's family has only raised $610 USD out of $50,000 goal. Please support the family by sharing. Donate if you can

#yemen #jerusalem #tel aviv #current events #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #news on gaza #palestine news #news update #war news #war on gaza #palestine donation #aid for gaza #palestinian donations

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moondirti · 1 year ago

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animalic (3)

← chapter two // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.2k summary: he's got a plan that neither of you like warnings: enemies to lovers, predator/prey dynamics, biting, bondage, temporary paralysis, concussions, miguel is not nice, no use of y/n notes: this was supposed to be longer but the cut off at the original point was super awkward. this chapter is super exciting for all you fang lovers out there

You really can’t catch a break.

The city bustles with a verve rivalling your own, a kaleidoscope of luminescence dancing upon the glass facades of its skyscrapers. Their spires pierce the ink-dark cloak of night, and if you weren’t so busy running for your life, you’d stop to admire the way their aviation obstruction lights mimic the stars back home.

(Everything has a trade off, you suppose. You remember what it was like as light pollution gave away to reveal the cosmos above, the beauty of it lost upon your own grief.)

Now, it’s fear – clinging like a shadowy spectre to your heels. The pavement is unforgiving beneath you, each step sending a jolt of energy through your bones. Despite it, you can’t go any faster. Sidewalks crowd with the humdrum of everyday life – people filtering out from work and bodegas, dressed in a slightly odd fashion, their clothes a reminder of your unfamiliar landscape. Car horns blend into one another, providing an unsteady tempo to the race of your heart.

It’s disorienting, all of it. Times like these, you wish you’d been given the opportunity to hone your abilities. Stamina, flexibility. Web shooters in particular would have proved handy in avoiding the bustle of the ground.

Of course, he has that advantage on you too.

You can’t see Miguel, but you sense his proximity. It prods you, nipping at your flesh in a constant assault, intensifying goosebumps and raising hairs. Your spider sense usually doesn’t last this long, solely serving as a warning for immediate danger. Yet that’s just what he is, immediate. Dangerous. Predatory eyes track your every move, sourced from all directions. He’s everywhere; atop buildings, within alleys. Neon signs morph into twisted apparitions; serrated talons, red skulls.

How did he track you down so fast?

The day pass?

You wonder if he’d brought back-up – whether there are other spider-heroes here who trust in his noble cause. Your anxiety triples, and passerby’s begin to warp too. Their hurried footsteps now strike discordant notes, amplifying your isolation. You think you see some tense their wrists, or unbutton their coats, ready to reveal their tailored suits and ensure the capture you’ve managed to evade thus far.

It’s luck. It’s only ever been luck, and that fact changes depending on who you ask. You’ve never outsmarted him, never disabled him. You just so happen to have the power of being a pain in his ass.

Something itches at you, though. A nagging sense of foreboding. His presence in the past has spurred chagrin, annoyance, and – admittedly – arousal. But the genuine terror that lights your nerves now is new. Perhaps because you understand him, are far more familiar with his pride than most. The logical part of you can predict that he won’t let you off so easily, not after your stunt with the kiss. You won’t – can’t – get away this time, even if it damn well nearly kills him.

Any hope you had of a bargain dissipates, rolling back from shore and into the depths of an elusive sea. You jerk the rubber band off your wrist, throwing it into some undisclosed corner.

In a then desperate bid to throw him off, your path loses cohesion. Like a leaf seized by a tempest, you turn based on split-second instinct, weaving through the labyrinth of New York’s grid. Your body sways in frenzy, bolstered by pure adrenaline, which works to dim everything else. Your ribs haven’t fully healed yet – they’d taken a pretty bad beating upon your last fight with Miguel – but you can barely feel the ache as you focus purely on the task at hand.

Your determination surges, recklessness taking hold of your rationale. Veering abruptly, you just about collide with the racing line of cars that flow at a green light. In fact, you think you do. Your skin prickles, and a taxi runs straight through you, blearing a loud honk all the while. Some vehicles break off, drifting around your form at the last minute. In your peripheral, you can see the glowing red of your pursuers web, stretched across the gap between two apartment complexes.

Chest tightening, your breathing loses depth at the sight, shallowing to leave room for the distress that torrents up your system. You clamber up on the hoods of parked cars, using a mast arm pole to propel yourself forward. It’s a fruitless effort. You know it’s too late – have known it since he walked into that convenience, prowling in search of one thing.

(A lion only catches its prey a quarter of the time. But that twenty-five percent?)

Your ankle is the first victim to his hardwearing web, wrapped in the silk and pulled out from underneath you. The back of your head smacks into the concrete below, a high pitched ring reverberating through your skull upon impact. The collision sends a shock wave of pain throughout your being, and in that harrowing moment, everything stutters to a crawl. Spots speckle behind your clenched eyelids, metallic warmth flooding your mouth.

Well, fuck.

To add insult to injury, your atoms rip apart and splice into one another, a consequence of your abandoned day pass. The glitch aggravates the headache that begins to pound at you. You’d allowed yourself to forget how bad it could be.

The willpower that had just played a forefront in your mind steadily starts to trickle out, absorbed by your humiliation and the ground below.

“You really gonna give up that easily?”

Yes.

You make a point to never lie to yourself. In truth, you won’t ever get enough of Miguel’s cadence. Deep and resonant – it smoulders with a charred ruggedness. Commanding attention, rumbling like distant thunder, an unmistakable authority woven into each word. Yet, even amidst the rough contours, there lingers a softness, a subtle grace that soothes the edges of his threats.

(Sharp claws, sharp teeth, sharp cheekbones. Soft voice.)

More webs bind you, erupting from an unclear point to circle your legs, chest, and secure your arms behind your back. You’re diminished to little more than an aggravated caterpillar, ensnared in a spider’s web. And, just as his little game of bondage draws to a close, said spider stalks within view, splitting through the crowd that quickly forms around the commotion.

With his mask on, he stands as completely impenetrable. You, on the other hand, try to reduce your quivering the best you can, afraid of relaying how truly pathetic you feel.

“Maybe I’m biding my time.” You bite back, calling on a complete bluff. “I’m sure you know how good I am at that?” It’s a low blow. Even if you could control when and where to phase out, you wouldn’t get very far before he catches up to you again.

But Miguel doesn’t waver in his closing in – not until he towers over you, looking down at your incapacitated state. Space buckles under the gravity of his existence; you, too, can feel yourself sinking, drawn in closer by the credence that bubbles off him in flares. You wish you had a cover – your pair of makeshift goggles, a face mask, anything that could elevate you to a degree relative to his. But you’re bare, figuratively naked, and you’ve never hated him more.

He lingers, assessing you, weighing his options. The moment he turns to survey the mass of people who look on inquisitively, you wiggle upward into a sitting position, then throw your head forwards, aiming for his crotch. His wrist gets in the way, though, blocking your pitiful attack on his only defenceless area. Your forehead cracks against his dimensional travel watch, shattering its screen.

“Tu puta madre!” Miguel hisses, snapping back to survey the gadget while you begin to slink away. He seems to have an eye on you, however, because you’re tugged back just as soon as you make the effort.

Like a naughty cat. You shift uncomfortably at the thought.

“Are you gonna spend all night deciding what to do with me, then? I have plans, even if you don’t.”

“Plans. I have plans alright.” The low timbre of his threat slices you where it hurts.

With a calculated flex of his shoulders, he crouches down, gathering the webs around your arms. They serve as leverage when he hauls you upward, exercising his muscles – of which you’d suspected had been padding up to this point – with one swift motion. The world upends on itself, nausea enveloping your senses with its oppressive weight. It allows space for little else; not the uncertainty, not the trepidation. You divert all your efforts on keeping your scarce lunch down, accepting the possibility of a concussion by product of his less-than-refined manhandling.

The journey to wherever he takes you is not at all long enough for you to recover. Before you know it, he’s busting through the creaky door of an empty storelot, carelessly tossing you to the floor. Your vision doubles.

Yeah. Definitely a concussion.

Like you could afford one right now.

“You’ll stay, and you’ll listen.” He points an accusatory finger.

“Sure. Until I’ve had enough, that is.”

“And where would you go, exactly?”

“Nice try, O’hara. Like I’d tell you,” Snickering, you let your head roll to face the ceiling. The action sends you back to earlier, to the robbery you’ve been seeking to suppress. How careless you’d been, letting your fortune to date trick you into thinking that any collateral was safe too. You’d killed that woman. You. “Maybe I’ll fall right through the floor. That way, you’ll never have to worry about seeing me again.”

The notion makes him pause mid-pace, hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at you with what you imagine is the most earnest glare. The air bobs, suspended in static tension, a crackling constant that only unravels once he seems to make up his mind.

Marching forward, he drags you along with him to a nearby wall, upon which he then pushes you upward until you have to look down to meet his eyeline. Your bound legs kick forward, but the struggle hardly affects him.

“I didn’t want to resort to this.”

You assume he means treating you like a toddler does its shiny new toy, hurling you across this playpen of a city. “You really didn’t have to, then.”

He stays quiet, fists clenching tighter around you.

“I suppose we’re past the courtesy of letting the other recover from the last fight before starting a new one? My forearm is still fucked, thanks to you. Maybe if you’d given it some time, I would’ve proved more of a challenge today.” Your words, whilst never your most steadfast allies, betray you in lieu of this restlessness, tumbling forth with unruly incoherence.

Miguel's mask pulls back, the nanotech collapsing to just above his adams apple. Your mouth moves faster.

“Okay, I get it. The fate of the multiverse and all that. I’ll listen, whatever you want, but at least try and make the lecture original.”

His hand cups your jaw, tightening around your chin to firmly guide it upwards. Your throat stretches taut at the motion, its smooth expanse spread across the wall – an evening repast for a party of one. The imagery breaks down an all too sobering realisation into fragments small enough for you to register. His talons rest against your cheek, bordering perilously close to your waterline.

Traces of that patchouli aftershave hit you. His skin looks especially bronzed in the dark, highlighted at the edges from the phosphorescence outside. His curls droop where they’re plastered to a sweat slicked hairline.

You can’t help it. Your gaze flickers down to those plush lips.

Fuck. Fuck. It’d felt so good to kiss them.

Please let this just be a kiss.

“O-Or go with the… the usual, y’know. I don’t–”

Miguel lunges, sinking his fangs into the fleshy sinew of your neck.

Christ.

Your jaw hangs open, but no breaths filter in. Shock wedges itself at the site of his bite, implacable, steadfast as a barrier between logic and uninhibited emotion. Your reasoning plays no part in this, provides absolutely no valuable contribution to the series of reactions you undergo.

It’s physical, first. The cold slither of paralytic venom distends through your nerves, neurotoxins striking their functions, rendering them useless beyond the point of sensation. Which, you’d say, is the cruellest part. Miguel’s poison doesn’t stop you from feeling anything; not the puncture, nor the burn. You can truly feel it, trekking its graceful path to all muscles in your body, taking hold of the tissue, suppressing their vitality. Your back arches, your body doing its very best to fight what it cannot prevent. It cracks up your bone, down your spine. Your toes unfurl, fingers loosening to hang lamely at your side.

And, when you lose all executive authority over yourself, you’re pulled in to centre on his mouth again. His canines slowly retract, tongue taking their place. It’s warm – so fucking warm – and dextrous, covertly lathering the blood that beads down your nape.

Your last proper breath is wasted on a whine; a loud, keening, absolutely wanton whine. After it, you can do nothing but hold your flat inhales to cycle in as much oxygen as possible – diaphragm weak, your resolve weaker.

Miguel draws away, letting you slump to the floor, heavy and just as useless as a sack of flour. He wipes the excess carmine from his chin, kneeling to regard your glassy eyed stare.

“Fall through now, and you’re as good as dead.”

(You might as well already be.)

chapter four →

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grandline-fics · 5 months ago

Text

Dream A Little Dream

DESCRIPTION: They hear you say their name in your sleep

WARNINGS: just fluff

CHARACTERS: Law, Sabo | Killer, Smoker

WORDS: 1,295

A/N: After the wedding nightmare request I thought I'd do something quick and fluffy. Might do this one again with other characters. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW

Law knows it’s wrong to have feelings like these. He knows he shouldn’t let himself fall deeper and deeper in his attraction and yearning to be with you. For now he’s managed to restrain himself from confessing or making any sort of move with you. You’re a member of his crew, someone he depends on completely and he’s your Captain. Of course you would look at him the way you do, you’re looking to him as the commander of the ship and your unwavering trust in him is because of his title and talk so easily with him because of a solid foundation of friendship. Nothing more. He can’t allow himself to hope there’s more to it. It can only ever be Captain and subordinate.

Still though when he’s finished his work for the day and does his routine survey of the Polar Tang, ensuring all crew tasks are completed, that everything is maintained and the ship is running smoothly he can’t help but leave your station to last. Just to allow himself an extra moment of time with you, to talk as you both relax from your duties is something he can’t give up. This is fine though, he tells himself, it’s a tiny indulgence that won’t go any further. He finds you as you’re leaving the engine room, having finished extensive maintenance checks and calibrations. You both talk as you walk towards the communal area, Law can’t help but notice your movements and responses are a little slower than usual.

Before he can ask if you’re okay, Penguin’s voice calls for him from the control room. With a small smile you lightly nudge him in the direction of your friend’s voice. “Duty calls, Captain.” You tell him while forcing yourself to hold back the yawn rising in your chest. As much as you’d love to keep talking with him, you know you can’t command all of his attention. “I’ll be in here when you’re done.” Law can only nod once and watch you walk into the communal room while he has to see to Penguin’s problem.

By the time he’s finished and returns to the room he finds you curled up on one of the sofa, arm tucked under your head and sleeping deeply. Now that he has the time, he can see how exhausted you look. Your body needs the rest and as much as he’d like to just let you sleep, he can’t in good conscience let you continue to sleep in the position you’ve found yourself in. You’ll wake stiff and sore and feeling no benefit to the sleep you’re body eagerly sought. His fingers flex and he’s about to conjure a Room to transport you to your bed when he stops.

Taking a breath, Law leans down and easily gathers your sleeping body into his arms. He stills when you shift and he fears for a moment that you’ve woken but instead you seem to nestle into the warmth of his arms and chest, unconsciously your hand curls around his shirt. Law allows himself a small smile and walks carefully to your sleeping quarters.

He lays you gently on your bed and pulls the covers over you as you relax against the mattress and incoherently mumble. Law shakes his head with a small huff of amusement, for a moment he doesn’t believe anything of what you’re saying is an actual language, just noises. That is until he’s almost at the door and you speak again and this time there’s no denying what you say while unconscious. “You’re the best, Law…so happy…with you…”

Law freezes and whips his head around to observe you, watching for any sign that you’re messing with him or pretending to be asleep but no, you’re fast asleep and dreaming about him. As he quickly recovers from his shock and wipes the momentary lovesick expression off of his face Law leaves to let you rest and finally allows himself the time to consider that maybe he should hope there’s more to your relationship with him.

SABO

“Dragon’s just going to tell you to go to your quarters and sleep.” Sabo teased as you staggered mid-step towards the meeting room. You righted yourself and threw your colleague a withering look. While he looked rested and practically glowing with his usual bright smile, you looked awful. You’d both been out on individual missions and Sabo was lucky to get back earlier and got a good night’s sleep whereas you’d completed your mission and the journey back had been a rough one, leaving you no chance to get any sleep. Now you had to attend a full Revolutionary meeting. You told yourself you could sleep after you’d reported to your commander.

“Seriously, you look like you’re about to fall over any second.” Sabo continued, while he was concerned he knew it was pointless to order you to put yourself first. You would just get more stubborn and force yourself to stay away the rest of the day just to prove a point. “If you do fall asleep in the meeting, please don’t do it in Dragon’s lap.” You managed a tired laugh only to stop and let out a long yawn to the point your eyes watered and body swayed slightly. You hadn’t even realised Sabo’s hands were on your shoulders to steady you until after you blinked. “Yeah you’re definitely going straight to bed.”

With your mind and body so exhausted, you didn’t have the normal capabilities and reflexes to react, in a blink Sabo had you effortless thrown over his shoulder and he was already striding down the corridor by the time you caught up with what was happening. “Sabo put me down!”

“This just proves my point you need rest.” Sabo laughed as you feebly hit his back. “Look you’re only letting your reputation suffer. Just sleep and then you can properly kick my ass okay?” You glared tiredly at the ground, ignoring all of the stares you were getting from the other Revolutionaries that were walking to the meeting you were also meant to be attending. Out of pure pettiness you managed to reach up and smack the top hat off of Sabo’s head. However with his own sharp reflexes he caught it with ease.

By the time Sabo reached your quarters he realised you’d stopped trying to break out of his hold and when he adjusted you into his arms to lay you down in your bed he saw that you were fast asleep. He smiled to see you already looked more like yourself now that you’d allowed your body to sleep after having stayed awake this long. “Sleep well, beautiful.”

“Sabo…” your voice broke from your lips in a hazy murmur and Sabo tilted his head at you. He hadn’t expected you so innocently saying his name in your sleep would make his heart skip a beat but it did. His lips quirked into a smile only for it to drop slightly when your face scrunched into one of annoyance. “Sabo’s prettier…”

Sabo blinked and relaxed, for a moment you had him worried that you didn’t feel the same as him. He left you to sleep and grinned happily as he made his way to the meeting he was definitely late for, the sound of your sleepy voice echoing in his head. You did catch him off guard by your silly misconception that he was in any way better looking than you but that was you all over. Of course even in your sleep you would manage to be stubborn and disagree with anything he said. Still now he had a new topic to debate with you over, but that could wait until you were awake and more alert.

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muletia · 11 days ago

Text

[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: you had to go on a business trip. optimus doesn't take it too well

cw: obsessed!optimus, hardcore pinning, angst, i wanted to practice writing dialogues and it shows lmao

word count: 1800

an: i want you guys to know that i am reading EVERY reblog and comment from you swirling my hair and kicking my legs like a schoolgirl

you are so real for that anon

When you, out of your own free will, expressed the desire to join him on patrol, Optimus was overjoyed. You rarely got the chance to be together, just the two of you, always consumed by work or saving the world. And although Optimus wouldn’t dare ask you outright to accompany him on patrols (because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable), he deeply longed to spend more time with you alone. He knew he was feeding only his own illusions, fueling the machinery of madness, but by this point, he couldn’t stop. Not when you sat comfortably on his seat, gazing at the views outside the window, visibly content with your outing together.

He wanted so badly for this to be your everyday reality. Maybe then he could finally find some relief from his fixation, maybe you would even save him.

"Hey," you started, and his entire attention focused on you. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while."

Oh.

Did your feelings match his? Did you feel affection for him as well? Had you noticed his suffering? Or maybe you wanted to reject him, once and for all, to make him understand that his passion was an illusion, that no matter how much he wanted it, the two of you could never be together — too incompatible, too different. That he had developed this coping mechanism, exhausted by the war.

But before Optimus could spiral further, you crushed his hopes.

"The company I work for is sending me on a business trip," you sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the news. "It’s supposed to take two weeks, but you never really know with these trips, especially since they’re sending me across the continent."

"I understand," he replied, his tone not betraying the turmoil within. "What does this business trip involve?"

"Oh, shoot, sorry! I should have explained that right away," you laughed casually as if you hadn’t just delivered news that shattered his spark. "Business trip is assigned by an employer for training sessions, conferences, exhibitions, and other boring stuff. Kind of like a mission, but without explosions, action, or danger."

It was good to hear that you’d be safe, though you would truly be safest only at the base, under his watchful optics.

Pessimistic, ugly thoughts churned in his processor. Of all the things he expected to hear from you, this wasn’t one of them. Suddenly, he feared being alone, feared his own dreams. Because he knew you wouldn’t be there to comfort him after a nightmare, and nothing else could bring him peace.

"I am sorry to hear we will not see each other for two weeks," he said, "but I am confident you will do exceptionally well on this assignment. You are dependable, unyielding. You can handle anything."

"Oh, thank you," you answered, a bit flustered. You hadn’t expected a compliment. "It just makes me sad to leave Jasper. I don’t say it often enough, but I have a wonderful time with all of you. With you."

"Likewise, [Name]. When are you leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow after work, I’ll say goodbye to everyone else."

So soon. Too soon. He’d hoped you wouldn’t leave until next week, to at least give him time to mentally prepare for the separation, but you denied him that luxury. Not that any amount of time would have prepared him for this.

Slowly, subtly enough that you wouldn’t notice the change, he reduced his speed, prolonging your shared drive.

"I’m not sure I’ll have time to write," you warned. "Unfortunately, they’ve given me a really tight schedule. But! If I can, I’ll write to the kids. Oh, and expect some souvenirs — I’ll bring something back for you all."

"You do not need to spend your valuable time searching for trinkets. But if you insist, I will cherish anything you bring me."

"Aw, don’t worry—it’ll be no trouble." You waved your hand dismissively. "You do so much for me, for the kids, for the whole Earth without asking for anything in return. You deserve something nice."

"I do not protect your planet for glory or offerings."

"I know, I know. That’s very noble. And amazing. So many years, sticking firmly to your values."

He eagerly soaked up your praise, allowing himself, if only for a brief moment, to forget the world around him, to forget his duties, unfulfilled promises, fallen brothers and sisters. He’d never describe himself as 'amazing', nor did he believe the praise his own kind gave him about his greatness. But for you, he could believe it. If only for a moment, a few seconds, so that you’d leave on your mission thinking warmly of your time together and of him.

"Thank you, [Name]. Please know that I value your words tremendously."

"Oh," you blushed, "that’s nice to hear."

Embarrassed, you quickly changed the subject, unaware that Optimus was watching you closely, curious about your reaction. For now, he pushed thoughts of your departure to the back of his processor, wanting to fully enjoy your presence. You recommended songs from the country genre, one of his favorite discoveries on Earth, which he promised to listen to later. He knew well that this would lead to more daydreaming, imagining a future that would never be. Because no matter how hard he tried, his tomorrow would not be entwined with yours. His desires would forever remain mere fantasies born out of desperation, longing, and sorrow.

A week had passed since you left. In the lives of the Autobots, not much had changed because of your absence; they went on with their chaotic schedule. The kids, however, missed you. No more evenings spent helping them with their homework, working on your reports, playing games, or simply chatting. The worst part was that no one really knew what was going on with you. You rarely messaged, didn’t have time to talk, and when you did, it was just to say, "I’m alive, it’s boring, I’ll message you on Thursday." Life continued, despite how much Miko wished she could play games with you instead of doing her homework.

Everyone managed to adapt to your absence.

With one exception.

At first glance, it seemed like Optimus, the bot with whom you shared the closest bond, hadn’t been affected by such a drastic change. Nothing in his behavior indicated any longing. He didn’t express his opinion on the matter, didn’t ask, didn’t demand. As always, he buried his feelings deep within, playing the role of a diligent leader, hiding from everyone the nightmares running through his processor, now even more intense because of your absence.

He was withering, quietly and alone.

Until now, he had been content simply watching you. He had established a routine, unhealthy as it was, that kept him going. He knew that most of the time when he returned from patrol or a mission, you would be at the base. Even if you came every other or every third day, Optimus knew that eventually, you would show up. It gave him a sense of stability amidst the chaos surrounding him. But now? Maybe two weeks wasn’t a big challenge for you, but he was done after one.

Now, he wanted to be more than a passive observer. He craved physical contact, to hold you close, to feel your heartbeat against his metal. He wanted to know you were alive, to feel your pulse under his digit, to listen to its rhythm, to understand how your chest moved against his metal. He wanted to feel, taste, touch, enter.

He kept glancing at the spot on the couch where you usually sat with your laptop on your lap or spent time with the kids as if hoping that if he looked just one more time, you would materialize there. That everything would return to normal, that he wouldn’t suffer so much, that you would give him the daily dose of antidote he needed to function without plunging deeper into despair. But no matter how many times he looked, you weren’t there, and wouldn’t be for another week.

At some point, however, someone noticed their leader’s miserable mood.

"I can’t quite figure out what kind of bond you have with that woman," Ratchet said, pausing his work to look at Optimus. Before his friend could answer, he continued, "But she’ll be back soon. And whatever she’s doing, she’ll do it well. She’s tough."

"Thank you, old friend. I have no doubt in her abilities. But I would feel better if she were stationed closer to the base in case of a Decepticon attack."

"Mm-hmm," the medic scoffed. "Sure, that’s all it’s about."

Optimus had no response to that. He wasn’t surprised that Ratchet noticed his infatuation, but he would prefer that his friend not delve into the details of their relationship. At least, not yet. Not while Optimus himself was a wreck.

"Hey, hey! [Name] messaged!" Miko yelled.

The Autobot leader immediately approached the platform, finally abandoning his conversation with Ratchet, aware that it would only spark more suspicions. But he didn’t care anymore, not in such an important moment.

He stood directly behind Miko, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead beside him, equally curious to know what you had been up to over the past week.

"She sent photos, too! Look!"

Miko turned to show the messages to the others but paused when she noticed Optimus’s helm close to her.

“Whoa,” she whispered, surprised that out of all the bots, he was the one standing the closest. She swallowed, but her confidence quickly returned.

Holding her phone firmly, she displayed a close-up selfie of you. You were smiling, though the bags under your eyes betrayed that you were sleep-deprived, probably exhausted.

Optimus felt the accumulated stress, pain, and longing of the past week slowly dissipate. Everything was fine with you. You were alive, pushing forward with a smile on your face, happy to simply exist. Admiring your photo didn’t compare to seeing you in person, but it let him vent a little easier, granting him a brief respite from worry, gnawing at him from within. It was enough. For now. For a moment.

“She sends her regards to everyone,” Miko went on, “Oh, and she also asked Ratchet to take a break and mentioned she already bought a gift for Optimus and can’t wait to come back. Hey, I want a present, too!”

Optimus couldn't be certain if another week apart wouldn’t inflict even more damage on his processor and spark, or if longing would eventually consume him entirely. But he knew he was already lost, that you held sway over every aspect of his life. He was wrapped around your finger, tethered by a leash you didn’t even realize existed. And he didn’t mind one bit.

#transformers #transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #tfp #obsessed!optimus

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familyvideostevie · 1 year ago

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the meaning of it all

joel miller x reader

summary: Joel Miller, of all people, teaches you to ask for help.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: jackson au, post part i, joel and ellie worked it out! joel is soft! language, violence, fluff, learning to accept help and love.

a/n: this fic is a soft joel (think part ii joel but make it two years into jackson because he and ellie resolved everything <3) and a reader who is much more me than i've written before. i hope you like it! thank you again to @strangerfreaks who held my hand through this, i owe you my life.

___

Luck. God damned old-fashioned thank-fuck-for-that luck has kept you alive since the world ended. Deep festering rage and a near-constant state of fear have helped. But every bullet you've found, every undamaged can of food, every shot that landed in the right place so you were the last one standing -- that's all luck. Or a curse, depending on the day. Depending on how you're feeling about it all.

And Jackson? That's the biggest stroke of luck you've had in twenty years. A single woman on her own with plenty of working years left and no obvious red flags was probably a no-brainer for the community to take in but you feel like you've finally made it. After two decades of violence and horror and pain, you fucking made it somewhere safe.

You spend as much time as you can making sure everyone knows how grateful you are. You don't have any special skills, not really. You can shoot well enough, cook well enough, clean well enough. Young enough when all the shit went down that you don't have a trade or any work experience, you just go wherever they need someone in town.

Keeping busy means you're bone-tired most nights. Exhausted sleep means fewer nightmares, less time to wander the halls of your very nice but much too-big-for-you-home and miss everything you've lost. But picking up shifts wherever you can also means you don't meet many people beyond hellos and exchanging names. Farming is easy and you get to work with a lot of the kids in town, daycare much the same. You're lousy with power tools but you're able to carry materials wherever they're needed. Cooking is easy when it's stew for hundreds of people and doing dishes is even fun when someone turns on the radio. You're making it work.

Patrol is...patrol. You're able, so you're on the roster. It's not that you hate it, not exactly. Going outside the walls makes you feel like you're someone else. You slip back into the mask of fear and anger, the one that kept you alive for so long. And the worst part is it's comfortable.

You've done the training runs, the group patrols for three months. Infected still freak you out a little but you're smart enough to be more scared of people. All of the senior patrol members have cleared you for paired patrols and today is your first one.

Tommy meets you at the stables to check-in.

You don't really have any friends, though everyone is perfectly nice to you, but Tommy and Maria are probably as close as it gets. You figure they take a shine to newcomers like you, ones who come in alone, maybe to keep an eye on them as much as anything else. But they've both got a smile and kind word for you whenever you see them, always asking if you need anything. You always tell them no, you're fine, thank you.

"You ready?" Tommy says. "I've had them pull Apollo for you." You pat yourself one more time to make sure you have everything. Pistol on your thigh, knife at your hip, pack secure on your back. Hat and gloves tucked into your jacket pocket to account for the wind on the trails.

"I think so," you tell him. You blow a raspberry at your horse and he blows back, nudging your shoulder with his nose.

"After this, pretty sure you'll have done every job there is to do in this town. Pullin' crops, plantin' crops, cookin' crops. Kids, the library, cleanin', buildin' that ramp at Lenore's last month. You've been here, what, six months? And you've done it all."

It should make you feel good that he's noticed. It does, but only a little. You still feel like you could work every day for the rest of your life and not repay what he and this town have given you. To make up for the things you've done on the road.

"I'm the best floater in Jackson," you joke instead. Smiling makes people like you. You haven't had much cause to smile in recent years so you're still getting used to the urge. Tommy scoffs. "I don't do important council stuff like you and Maria, though."

He ignores that. "Y'know, pretty sure they call that a jack-of-all-trades. A real Ren-ai-ssance woman." You try to come up with a retort, eyes wandering to the patrol assignment board. Your name is under ELK CREEK and under it is --

"Quit harassin' her." Tommy rolls his eyes and flips off whoever comes up behind you. You turn around and see a man you know of but have never actually met.

"Joel," Tommy says. "I believe this is called havin' a conversation. You ever tried it?"

"Funny," Joel replies. He nods at you. "You my partner today?"

"Seems so." You introduce yourself, Apollo's warm breath at your back.

"Joel Miller," he says back.

You're a little intimidated, truth be told. You know him by reputation mostly. Tommy's big brother who came to town a few years ago with a little girl. They're both pretty much everywhere. Joel fixing houses and talking to kids in the street, going on patrols and always bringing back extra for whoever needs it. Ellie galloping around town with other teenagers and bringing home the biggest game. You've handed her books a few times at the library, too, seen her bright eyes and infectious energy underneath teenage angst that transcends even an apocalypse. And you've seen them together, heads down in the dining hall or pressed closed walking down the street -- heard rumors about why they came here, how they came here, too -- and one thing is clear to you: the Millers are beloved. By this town and by each other.

It's a miracle all its own in this fucked up world.

"You two ain't met yet?" Tommy says, pointing at the space between you. You snap out of your thoughts. "You've been here long enough to have met everyone by now."

"Guess not," you say with a wry smile. The younger Miller is too polite to call you out for not having a single friend in that time period, either.

"Well, here we are," Joel says. "Gonna keep us here forever, Tommy? Or can we do our job?"

Tommy claps him on the shoulder and winks at you. "Tone down the asshole for her first paired patrol, yeah?"

Joel snorts. He grabs a horse that was already tacked for him and leads it out of the stable. You follow with Apollo. The patrol coordinator hands out rifles and reminds everyone of the rules.

You hop on your horse. "You ready?" Joel asks, startling you a bit. "We'll gallop to the mouth of the river and then start patrollin'."

Something in you relaxes a bit at his clear confidence in you to handle yourself. You know you're with him for a reason -- he's one of the best. That, or maybe he just doesn't give a shit. Somehow you think it's the former.

You follow him up the hill outside the gates and through the tree line. The noise of the Outside is different than that of Jackson. Birdsong, snapping branches and dry brush under your horse, the wind rippling down the hill. You take a deep breath through your nose and feel a part of you come alive. It's funny how a world so beautiful can be so deadly.

Joel gallops a little ahead of you, strong and steady. You watch him, think about what you know. He's older than you, that much is obvious. Greying hair curling around his ears, lines on his face from more than just a stressful life. But he's strong, good at what he does. Those rumors come back to the front of your mind. How he and Ellie showed up, half-starved and bloody. How he and Tommy are the most famed patrol duo for Infected kills and otherwise. It makes you feel safe. It makes you want to learn from him. It makes you want to know more.

And he's got kind eyes. Somehow, he's got kind eyes.

"Alright," Joel calls back to you. "Route starts here." He slows his horse and you pull up beside him. He shifts in his saddle and turns his face to you. "Now, I know this is your first pair," he says. "I won't order you around or nothin' but my main piece of advice is that everyone has a different patrol style. Know how to adapt."

You dig your gloves out of your pockets and wiggle them on. Joel watches before his eyes snap back to yours. "Noted." You honestly didn't think he'd talk this much. "And let me guess. Yours is patrol in silence?" You punctuate the nervous quip with a smile.

Joel snorts. "Nah," he says. "Unless you're Max. Can't stand that fucker."

It startles a laugh out of you and any ice you'd imagined breaks for good. Max is one of the middle-aged men who probably would have been a lawyer or a politician based on the way he likes the sound of his own voice.

"Now," Joel says. "You done this route before?" His knuckles are a little red but he doesn't put on any gloves.

"Twice, I think. First log book in that old station, right?" Joel nods. "Second in the town?" He nods again.

"Color me impressed." His mouth tugs up at the corner into something you might call a smile. You try not to look too pleased with yourself. "Some of the dipshits on the roster don't even remember that much."

It feels like you've passed a test. His praise makes you feel nice. Noticed. Not something you often seek but you know yourself well enough to admit that you'd like a little more of it. Even if it's from a man you just met.

"Not that hard," you say softly. Joel looks at you for a moment longer before clicking his teeth. His horse starts to walk. You signal to Apollo to follow.

The patrol goes off without a hitch. Joel signs the log book in the station and you sign it in the tower. He lets you snipe two runners that he spots and doesn't scold you when you take three tries on the second one.

"Settlin' in okay?" he asks once you've rounded the town one last time and started back towards Jackson. "Six months, Tommy said?"

Despite his earlier words, you haven't chatted much this patrol. While you'd like to know more about him, want to get him to smile at you again, you're really just enjoying being out here with someone else, knowing that you're safe. That you've got somewhere to go back to.

"It's nice," you sigh. "I never imagined I'd find a place like this."

You really should pick up the pace to get back to town but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry.

"I know the feelin'," he murmurs. "Ellie'n me slept on the floor for a good two weeks at the start. Been two years and some nights I don't take my boots off."

"What a fucking life, huh?" That earns you a wry smile. "Having a house is...strange. All of the hinges squeak and I --"

"The hinges squeak?" You look over at him and Joel's brows are furrowed.

"Oh, I mean, it's no big deal --" You stumble over apologies. You don't want him to think you're complaining about a home his brother gave you when he sure as shit didn't have to.

Joel taps his thumb on the pommel of his saddle. "Can get that fixed, y'know."

You didn't know, actually. "Really?"

Now he looks at you like you're a little stupid. "Ain't you the one hauling shit to people's houses when they need a hand?"

He has a point and you hate it. It never occurred to you to ask for someone to come fix your hinges. They're just hinges, for fuck's sake. Other people have holes in their floorboards or leaks or need new rooms for family members. You're just...you.

Joel sighs. It feels like you've disappointed him and it swirls in your gut. "I'll take a look at it this week."

Your neck cracks audibly with how quickly you look up at him. "What? No, Joel, you don't have to --"

He says your name in a tone that you know means no arguing. "I know I don't have to. I offered."

"You don't even know me!" The words fly from your mouth before you can stop them.

He brings his horse to a full stop so quick you almost run into him.

"Look," he says. His gaze holds yours. Wow, he really can be intimidating when he wants to be. You can only imagine the things he's done, the things he's capable of. Anyone who has made it this long has blood on their hands. You've washed it from your own skin plenty of times. And yet, you feel completely safe. And you know that you'll probably do whatever he tells you. "I know how it can be."

Your gut swirls. "You don't know what I've been through," you say softly. It's not a jibe, it's just the truth. No one knows because you've told no one because it doesn't matter. You're here now.

"I've been alive for a while longer than you," he continues. "I've seen the world, just as you have. I've been out here. I was out here for a long, long time." He runs a hand through his beard, fiddles with his broken watch in what looks like reflex. "I know how hard it is to ask. To get back to something that makes any damn sense. But you can if you try."

The words linger in the chill around you. He's right, obviously. He's so fucking right that you want to be mad. You haven't asked for anything because you don't want to fracture the good thing you've got. Don't want to be too much, to be a burden they can't support, to make people think you don't deserve to be in Jackson. All things that don't make any fucking sense, not really, but you can't stop them. It's just how you're wired.

"So I'm comin' over this week to fix those hinges. Alright?"

"Alright." Something in Joel softens when you agree.

"Good," he says. "Good."

You finish the patrol in comfortable silence. All told it's been nice. To talk to someone, to feel like they give a shit about you even for just a few hours. You have no doubt Joel will be over to fix your hinges but you figure it'll fizzle out after that -- it always does. You don't know how to ask someone to stick around, anyway. But even this little bit of him will have been worth it.

Something both loosens and tightens in your chest when you get back to Jackson and through the gates. Goodbye beautiful, horrible outside world, hello safety, community, home. It's a trade-off. You and Joel hop off your horses and return your rifles. You're about to hand Apollo off to be brushed and returned to the stables when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Joel says your name and you turn around.

"Good job today," he says softly. "Not too excitin' of a patrol, but you're good out there."

You blink owlishly. "I-- thanks," you manage. "Maybe we'll get to go out again as a pair." You're showing your hand but you can't help it. You want more of whatever this was.

Joel's mouth pulls up at one corner. "Maybe."

___

Two days later you drag yourself out of the house for community breakfast. Most mornings you're out the door and at your work detail for the day before you can pop over but you don't have anything assigned today. It's a rare respite and it has you antsy. You don't remember how to be idle, aren't any good at it. Sitting in your empty house means your mind might wander to the thoughts you try very hard to keep at bay. The loneliness, the regret, the fear. The loss. It's always there and you've gotten better at dealing with it after so many years but some days you really just wish you could talk about it to someone, could just bitch and moan about how fucking awful this life can be.

But everyone is carrying their own shit and you don't need to add to it. You don't want anyone to have to carry yours, too.

Breakfast is quiet this morning. You settle at a table with your toast and your eggs and your potatoes and smile back at anyone who smiles at you but no one sits with you. If they did you don't know what you'd say.

But then the air changes. Your neck feels a little hot and you slowly look around until you see what's caused it -- Joel and Ellie are here. He's already looking at you when you meet his eyes and he smiles a little, a half-moon curve of his mouth, and nods. You wave.

Ellie waves back, which you don't expect. She says something to Joel and he frowns, rolls his eyes. She punches him in the arm and he flips her off and grabs two plates, starts to fill them. You smile down at your own food.

"Man, are the potatoes that fucking good today?"

You look up and find Ellie in front of you. You're pretty sure she's 16 or thereabouts, still growing into herself based on the way she shifts on her feet. Her right forearm has the outline of something floral. She notices you looking at it and crosses her arms, looking unimpressed. Ah, teenagers.

"Pretty okay," you tell her. "I don't know if we've met yet --"

"We kinda have," she interrupts. "I know your name and you know mine, so. And you're at the library sometimes when I check shit out."

This still does not explain why she's over here talking to you. You can see Joel in the breakfast line still, glancing over his shoulder every so often to see if she's still in the room. You try not to catch his gaze because you're a little afraid of what Ellie might read in it.

"Can I do something for you, Ellie?" you ask, not unkindly. She scrunches up her nose and then sighs.

"Joel told me not to bother you but I wanted to ask if you could look out for a book for me. At the library." Her words get faster as she reaches the end of her sentence. She takes a look at you, sees that you're not telling her to fuck off, or something, and keeps talking. Some book about the history of comics or something.

"Oh," you say. You feel a rush of affection for her and the fact that she can hold the record for headshots on a group patrol and still want to read about something she loves in her free time. "Yeah, I'll look for you. I don't have a library shift until tomorrow but I'll look and put it aside if I find it for you."

Ellie tugs on her fingers. "Don't you need to write it down or something?"

You smile at her. "No, I'll remember." You recite the title and author she just told you back to her and it seems to satisfy her. It's like a switch is flipped -- her earnest expression morphs into something you can only call mischief.

"So Joel's coming over to fix your doors, or whatever," she says. "How'd you crack him?"

"I--what?"

"You patrol with him once and he's coming over to your house," she says. "It took him like, weeks to laugh at one of my jokes. And I'm fucking funny!"

You have no idea what to say to that. Patrol with Joel was your first time talking to him and while he's a bit intimidating, sure, he never came off as anything other than...good. But you'd bet he wasn't always that way in this world. Maybe this girl in front of you had something to do with it.

And honestly, you're sure he just feels a little bad for you. He's nice enough to worry, to make sure everyone in town can do their part and you'll take what you can get even if it's temporary attention.

Part of you knows Ellie is just giving you a hard time because she's a teenager and you're kind of connected to the guy who looks after her so you're fair game, too. But she's talking to you like she wants to which is throwing you for a loop. And you're realizing it's been a long time since you actually wanted someone to like you. Well, Joel aside.

"You want to tell me one?" you ask. She looks surprised and then delighted.

"Oh, fuck yeah. Okay, let me think." You take another bite of your breakfast. "Okay, okay, I got it. What did the mermaid wear to her math class?"

You give it a few seconds before you shrug. Ellie grins. "An algae-bra."

Your laugh makes her grin bigger. "See? Fucking hilarious." She holds out her hand for a high five and you oblige. "Anyway, Joel's gonna come over tomorrow, I think. Seriously, dude, I don't know how you did it. He never used to be this nice!" She looks over her shoulder at the man in question. He's sitting down at another table. "He's getting soft."

Her voice is fond and you're pretty sure she doesn't notice. "You should go eat your breakfast, Ellie," you tell her.

She sighs like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fucking hungry. Let me know if you find that book!"

"I will," you call after her. You can't help but watch as she barrels back to her table with Joel and immediately makes an attempt at his bacon. He fends her off with his fork before surrendering a piece with a scowl.

He looks up and catches your eye again. You stand with your tray and nod at him, turning around before you can see his expression. Stupid, so stupid to be caught looking like that. But you can't help it -- looking at the love still alive in this shitty world and wondering what it feels like.

___

You run into Joel on your walk home from the next day's shift at the library. You spent probably far too much of it looking for the book Ellie wanted but it was worth it because you've got it tucked under your arm. It feels like a small miracle but you're not one to question it.

Maybe it's the good mood you're in, but when you see Joel from behind you call out his name. He doesn't stop walking but turns his head like he heard something. When he spots you he does stop, waiting for you to catch up.

"Hi," you say, suddenly a little less brave.

"Howdy," he replies, amused. "I'm headed your way."

"You --" He lifts a toolbox you now realize he's carrying. "Oh, right. Hinges."

"I can come by another day if it's not a good time."

Joel could knock on your door in the middle of the night and it would be a good time. "No, ah. Now's good." He motions for you to lead the way even though he clearly knew where he was going. He must have asked Tommy.

It seems like everyone waves as you two head for your street. They call out Joel's name and he knows pretty much everyone. You feel a little self-conscious being seen with him like this -- you, pretty much a nobody in town through your own doing and Joel, beloved by all.

It doesn't stop until you're almost at your door. "You're popular," you say, trying to make it sound teasing. Instead, it sounds awed.

Joel runs his free hand through his beard. "Don't remind me," he grumbles. "Can't go for a walk without a damn conversation."

You pull out your keys and unlock the front door. There are plenty of people in Jackson who don't lock their doors but you can't shake the need. "Sounds difficult."

He chuckles and you feel it zing up your spine. It's nice to make him laugh. "Yeah, yeah. S'pose it's nice." The front door opens with a creak and you look at him sheepishly. His eyebrows touch his hairline. "They all like that?"

You nod. Joel whistles. "Christ," he says. "Alright." He follows you into the house. You try not to think about what he sees. You've tried to make it your own, just a little. Posters you traded for, books you've collected. You cleaned the whole thing top to bottom when you moved in but somehow it still looks a little un-lived in. You're working on it.

"Don't let me bother you," Joel says, getting on one knee with a grunt and prying open his box. "Probably need 'bout an hour to get 'em all. I'll holler when I'm done."

That's your cue to busy yourself with something, anything, but you don't want to. You want to talk to him, to watch him do whatever he's going to do, to soak up this time with Joel before he walks out the door and you go back to being acquaintances.

"What are you going to use?" you ask. He looks up, a little surprised, before pulling out a spray bottle and a rag. He shakes it at you.

"It's some sorta homemade shit one of the younger guys cooked up," Joel says. Somehow he manages to sound self-deprecating, like he thinks he should've thought of it first. "I think it's...soap? And cleanin' stuff? Fuck, I don't know." He huffs a laugh. "I know it works, though. Back in the day we'd use shit you could buy on the shelf." He stands with a grunt. "You old enough to know that?"

That gets you to laugh. "Yeah, Joel," you say. "I'm old enough to remember the hardware store."

His gaze feels a little different than before, like he's allowing himself to look. "Hmm," is all he says. "I'll just --"

You don't know how to justify shadowing him as he oils your hinges -- there's a joke there's somewhere -- so you don't. You grab a book from the shelf and settle on your couch and try your best to read but your mind wanders.

It's pretty clear that you have a crush on Joel. You've spent one patrol with the guy but somehow he's gotten under your skin. It's inconvenient but also...nice? A crush at the end of the world. The fact that you can still feel something so sweet, so juvenile after all you've seen and all you've done is almost laughable. And it's not like it's going to go anywhere -- you're sure Joel thinks you're too young for him, too green, and he's probably tripping over admirers in town. But you can let it be something to keep your days interesting until it fades.

It was hard enough to love yourself before the world ended for reasons anyone could understand. Societal pressures, stupid comparisons, things that don't matter at all now. Who has time to think about being loved when you're constantly faced with death? Feeling desired, feeling loved, feeling looked after isn't exactly top of mind. You're not even sure you remember how. You put one foot in front of the other and that's enough.

But wouldn't it be nice to be on the receiving end of affection from a man like Joel?

"All finished." You startle and realize you haven't turned a single page of your book. If Joel notices he doesn't say. He wipes his hands on a rag and eyes you. "Pretty sure I got all the doors."

You hop up from the couch and try to find your words. "I -- that's -- you're --"

"Thank you will do just fine," he says with a smirk. He tucks the rag in his back pocket and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall.

"Let me cook for you," you blurt out instead. "In exchange." You can make a few things fairly decently and making him something is another excuse to talk to him like this, to be on the receiving end of those eyes. "I can make chili. Does Ellie like chili?"

"Don't have to do that," he says kindly. "Helpin' you ain't a business deal. S'what people do here." He stands straight and heads for your front door, picking up his toolbox on the way.

"Joel," you say, snagging his sleeve with your fingers. You pull them back quickly and grab the book you brought home, holding it out for him. "Ellie asked me to look for this. Could you give it to her?"

He looks at the book the same way he looks at his kid. It's tenderness so raw you look away. "I will," he says softly. He tucks the book under his arm like precious cargo. "Thank you for findin' it for her." He clears his throat and looks at you, smirk back in place. "Wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks. You don't follow. "Havin' someone help you," he adds.

Your face feels hot. "I'll still cook for you," you say, opening the door. He shakes his head.

"You let me know if you need anythin' else, alright?" A quick smile and he's down the steps and back into the street, strolling back to his own home.

"I will." You say it to yourself and almost mean it.

___

You patrol a few more times over the next month but never get paired up with Joel. If you were a little braver you'd ask Tommy or the kid he's training to take over the schedule to put you two together but you don't. Instead, you wave at Ellie when you see her, nod at Joel from the other side of rooms where he's always talking to someone else. You let yourself enjoy the way your heart picks up at the sight of him and the thrill you feel after he smiles at you. It's a nice change to the boring, lonely routine you had before.

The doors in your house open and close silently.

Being outside is fine. You don't like it any more or any less, it just is what it is. Life at the end of the world continues on.

Until you have a bad patrol.

It's no one's fault and no one gets bit. You and your partner, Astrid, are tailing a buck that's wandering along your route. If you can shoot it you can load it on one of your horses and ride back together on the other. Winter is on its way and any extra meat helps.

You follow protocol. You're lining the deer up through the scope while she keeps watch. Just as you prepare to pull the trigger you feel it -- the pull of your gut telling you something isn't right. That feeling has kept you alive all these years so you lower the rifle and turn to Astrid just in time to see a stalker lunge out of the brush.

Its broken and jagged nails catch your shoulders and you go down hard enough to bruise. You can't hear anything over its snarls and the blood pounding in your ears but you do your fucking best. You wedge your forearm under its chin and try like hell to keep its mouth away from you. Your other hand somehow makes it to your belt and unsheathes your hunting knife and in one swift movement, you shove it into the soft jaw of the infected. Hot blood spurts over your face and you keep your mouth closed, shoving the corpse off you.

A gunshot has you whirling around and scooping up the rifle. You've got it ready to fire but you only find Astrid standing over a stalker corpse of her own, forehead bleeding and revolver smoking.

"You clean?" you ask her, eyes on her forehead. She nods.

"Shoved me into some thorns. You?"

"Yeah. Can we go home now?"

Your hands don't shake until you get back to Jackson. They tremble when you wash the blood from your face, your hair. You wish for just a second that you had someone to hold them, someone to tell you it's alright. Someone to talk to about how shitty your day was and how scared you were and how sometimes this life is so fucking exhausting and just when you think you're safe you're reminded that no one is safe anymore.

Maybe this is the kind of thing Joel was talking about. Asking for help.

The thought fades quickly. You can deal with this. You're just out of practice. You just got comfortable.

You go to bed as early as you can bear, closing your eyes and hoping for dreamless sleep.

You could only be so lucky.

You're no stranger to nightmares. Hell, who isn't? Usually, it's the same old shit -- people you've lost, fucked up things you've done, horrors you've seen. You know how to deal with it.

But this is the first time in a while you've got new nightmare fuel. The hot, rancid breath of the stalker and the agonizing sound of its moans. Your own choked gasps as you try with all of your strength to keep its rotting teeth away from you. Unlike reality, your dreams don't allow you to grab a hold of your knife and instead, you feel it take a chunk out of your neck, hot blood splattering your face and you have to just lie there as it bites and bites and bites --

You jolt upright with a small gasp. Necessity has taught you to wake silently.

"Fuck," you say to the empty room. No way you're going back to sleep after that. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and put your head in your hands. "Breathe. Breathe."

The sky is black through your windows. You have no idea what time it is but you stand before the lingering panic can take hold and make things worse. Fresh air will get the iron smell out of your nose. You dress in the dark in more layers than necessary but you want to stop shaking.

Jackson at night is quiet but there are always a few people around, always someone else who can't sleep. The sky is clear and the moon is bright and it smells like woodsmoke and the unique earthy feel of the valley. This is your home. So long as you have this you can get through it.

Your feet take you through the streets of houses, most of the windows dark. Just another lap around town and then you'll go home, try to sleep again.

Then you hear something. The gentle strum of an acoustic guitar weaving with the night air like a dream. A song from before, a song you recognize but don't know the name of, don't know the words. You wrap your arms around yourself and follow the sound down Rancher Street. If you find whoever is playing it you'll wave and walk slowly home.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see whose house it is. Joel is on the porch, rocking slowly and head leaning back, eyes closed as he strums. How did you not know he played guitar? It only makes sense that the hands that are capable of such violence can also make something beautiful. He can ruffle Ellie's hair and pull the trigger and fix your doors and do this.

Something in your chest tightens.

Joel's eyes open and land on you immediately. You realize how it looks -- you standing in front of his house in the middle of the night, watching him. But he stops his playing and calls out your name.

"Hey, you alright?" he says. You hover between taking a step forward and a step back.

"Couldn't sleep."

He shakes his head. "Can't hear ya," he says. "C'mere."

Step forward it is. Up the stairs and onto the porch that creaks a little under your boots. There's only one chair and a small table with a lantern on it. Wind chimes dangle over the railing and you drag your hand through them on instinct like a child with a toy.

"Sorry," you say softly.

"Only got one chair," Joel says. He's got one boot resting on his knee, guitar slung across his lap. He looks tired. "I'll go get another --"

You wave him off. "No, please," you say. "I'll stand. I'm too antsy to sit, anyway." If you sit down in a chair next to Joel Miller you might never get up.

He frowns but settles back into his seat. "You alright?" he asks again.

His gaze is a little too much. You feel silly all of a sudden, not sure how you got here. A fucking nightmare? God, you're ridiculous. You cross your arms and lean back on the railing and look anywhere but him.

"Couldn't sleep." Joel hums.

"Heard that one before."

He strums some more and you relax again despite yourself. "Sounds nice. Do you play a lot?"

"Sometimes," he says. "Old habit."

"It's a nice one. Better than walking the streets in the dark." Your tone is harsher than you mean it to be and Joel frowns.

"It's safe to," he says, as though your wellbeing is his personal concern. "Bit cold, though."

"Why are you out here then?" You're frustrated with yourself and taking it out on him just a little bit. The smell of blood fills your nostrils again and you press your fingertips into your crossed arms, hard, and close your eyes. Your breath stutters in your chest.

"Nightmares," Joel says wryly. There's some shifting, the scrape of wood on wood and you open your eyes. His are fixated on your fingers and you stop squeezing. The guitar is now leaning up against the house and he's got his elbows on his knees like he's about to ask you a serious question. The lantern light makes his hair look darker, less silver, but it also makes the lines on his face look deeper. You wonder what kind of shit he's seen. What things he has nightmares about.

"Had this conversation with Ellie a million times," he huffs, rubs his hand through his beard in what you now consider a familiar gesture. "You don't need to talk if you don't want to. But can't hurt."

Is he asking you to talk about your nightmare? Does he actually want to know? Do you know how to talk about it?

"I take it you're a fountain of emotional sharing, huh?" Again, the misplaced frustration. You don't know how to turn it off.

His eyes flash but he just leans back in his chair and shrugs. "Depends on the day."

The low-level hum of your infatuation with him flares and your traitorous brain bats it down right away. You want to see all sides that he can offer you, want to make him frustrated and angry just to see if that'll make him sick of you.

You run your hand through the wind chimes again, watching your fingers move through the air. You remember what the knife felt like in your hand, the way the blood was hot as it dripped down your wrist and onto your face.

"Tough patrol," you say. "Messiest since I got here." Joel says nothing and you don't look at him. "I...it was fine. We got jumped by some stalkers and it was fine but...close. And I -- I didn't realize how badly I wanted to come back here until then. How badly I wanted to go home at the end of it. Does that make sense?"

You finally look up and Joel's knuckles are white on the arms of his chair. When he sees you looking he crosses his arms. "Sure," he says, clears his throat.

The urge to try to explain more is overwhelming. "I mean, we've all done fucked up shit. I've been up to my elbows in infected guts and still come out on top and slept like a rock the night after. And all of a sudden I can't fucking handle a stalker getting in my face. It's like I've never had to get my hands dirty before and what if it means I'm going to fuck up next time --"

"Hey," Joel says firmly. You feel a hand on your forearm and realize you've been pacing, arms flailing as you rambled. He gives it a squeeze and then releases you. "Feel like I gotta say fuck now to catch up with you."

A wet chuckle works its way out of you. Where did that come from? Are you about to cry? On the porch of the man you have a stupid, stupid crush on? This is embarrassing. And his touch. People touch you all the time, all things considered. A tap on patrol indicating silence, a hand on your arm to get your attention, to brace you as you lift something. Children in town who don't know the horrors outside the walls give affection freely. Hell, Joel touched your shoulder after your patrol. You're not touch starved but you feel like no one has touched you with tenderness and meant it in years.

"Sorry."

Joel tuts. "C'mon," he says. "I asked."

"I don't think I feel any better."

He stands and grunts as he does so. He's so much closer than before, so close you can smell what you can only describe as Joel: wood shavings and gunpowder, laundry soap and leather. It's a little dizzying. He leans on the railing next to you.

"Bet when you go back to bed you won't dream," he says. "Usually what happens."

"Here you are again," you sigh. "Helping me out. I promise I get on just fine on my own."

"I know," he says. His eyes are warm and so, so deep. "Don't have to, though."

Joel, for all his kindness and popularity in town, is a man just like any other. A person who has seen and done shit that no one should have to see and do. You know he's got his fair share of secrets, of things he won't talk about. You all do. You know he can be unflinching and maybe even cruel, dangerous and deadly. Whatever is happening here -- this openness, this desire of his to help you out -- is hard won. You think about what Ellie said and let yourself have a dangerous thought: maybe he's this way with you because he wants to be.

You sway into him just a little before catching yourself and standing up straight. "I should go try that dreamless sleep," you say softly. "And you should, too." It does not escape your notice that you haven't talked about Joel's nightmares, whatever they are. You don't think he'd be that open. A piece of you imagines a world where you ask and he answers.

"I might," he says. Neither of you move.

That small piece of you would stay here all night. That small piece of you tries for the next best thing.

"Will you let me cook for you now?" you ask. It sounds a little desperate to your own ears. "Please?"

"Persistent, ain't you?" He taps his closed fist on the railing once, twice. "Well, if it's that important to you. Chili, you said?"

"I can have it done by sundown tomorrow. I'm on greenhouses but we always finish early. You can come by and get it. I'll do enough for you and Ellie for a few days." You're rambling but finally he's going to let you do something for him. Hinges, nightmares, it's too much. Maybe you can somehow cook out this affection for him, get rid of it with your own hands if you try hard enough.

"Alright," Joel says. He puts his hand on your shoulder lightly and squeezes once. You feel it all the way down to your toes. "Now get outta this damn cold."

He doesn't offer to walk you home. You'd say no if he did. You need the time to sort out the mess in your mind. You give him the most earnest smile you can manage and he watches from his porch until you turn out of sight.

Joel is on your mind all day. More so than usual, which is saying a lot. The crush has turned into something...more. Something that makes you hope and that something is dangerous. It's just setting yourself up to be hurt through no fault of Joel's when it goes nowhere. Because why would he be thinking about you?

"You're smiley today," Dina says. She's a sweet girl and you're paired together on greenhouse shift today. She's always got a story to tell about plants she and her sister saw in New Mexico or some weird mushroom she found on group patrol. You love how positive she is and you try to absorb some.

"Am I?" you say lightly.

She tugs on one more cucumber, putting it in your shared basket before wiping her face. She gets dirt on her nose. It makes her look young. "Got big plans?"

Your face feels hot. "Just cooking for a...friend." It's the first time you've said that out loud. It's probably true, right? Acquaintance, at least. Joel is important to you and it's taken an alarmingly short amount of time for it to solidify. That's just how the world works these days -- you never know how much time you have so everything moves faster. You care harder despite years of proof that nothing good comes of it. You can't help it. You were made to leak love like an open wound.

"A friend," Dina teases. Teenagers. You remember that she's friends with Ellie and it's very possible she knows exactly what you're talking about but she's too kind to say anything more.

"Yep," you say, popping the p. "Do I have to start teasing you about Jesse or are you going to cut me some slack?"

"Well, hey," she laughs. "I think it's nice to be excited about something. You're so serious all the time."

"Am not," you mutter.

Something you appreciate about Dina is that despite her age she knows when to leave it. "Whatever you say," she says primly.

Once work is over and you're back home the cooking goes quick. You focus just enough considering you want this to actually be good and for Joel and Ellie to like it. It's thank you chili, it's you are important to me chili, it's I want to see you every day for the rest of my life chili.

Well. It's thank you at the very least.

And food, especially in this world, means something extra. There's enough to go around in Jackson, more than enough, but anyone taking the time to fix something with their own hands means more. You know how different a meal can taste when someone makes it with care.

And to say you care is a bit of an understatement.

The chili is simmering and you're about to start on the dishes when there's a knock on the door.

"Shit," you say. You wipe your hands on a towel and pad down the hall in socked feet. When you open it you find Joel bathed in the golden light of the sunset. His hands are tucked in his pockets, the collar of his coat turned up to protect his neck from the chill that's settled in for the season. His face softens at the sight of you but his shoulders are still tight. Is he...nervous? No, you're projecting.

Here he is on your doorstep again. If you're not careful you'll get used to him being there.

"Sorry for bein' a bit early," he says at the same time you say, "I was just thinking about you ."

The tension melts out of him and he smirks like a man with a secret. "That so?"

Your eyes are wide as you find your words. Hopefully ones that aren't embarrassing. "Come in," you say. "I'm letting the heat out."

He follows you to the kitchen. "Smells good," he says.

"It's not quite done yet but that's a good sign, I guess." You stir the pot before rolling up your sleeves and taking your spot in front of the sink. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess, I was about to start on this --"

"Now I know you ain't about to do all that yourself," Joel drawls. It's a syrupy tone you haven't heard from him, not really. Is he...flirting with you?

"I...what?"

"Scoot," Joel says. He steps beside you in front of the sink and gently bumps your hip with his. "Seriously."

"Joel--"

"Does it look like I'm kiddin'?"

He keeps his eyes on yours as he shrugs off his jacket, tosses it on this island, and rolls his shirtsleeves up to his elbow. You look away from him so you can watch.

"This is getting ridiculous," you tell him even as you hop up to sit on the counter closest to the sink so you can see his face. He turns on the tap and starts on the various things in the sink even though some of them are clearly not from cooking tonight. "You'll be sick of this chili before I can pay you back."

"I told you it ain't like that," he scolds. "So quit it."

There's no real bite to his tone but you do as he says all the same. You kick your feet out a few times and do your best not to stare but fail miserably. The fall sunlight seems to have followed him into your house, pinkish-golden beams falling across his face. You can see a triangle of chest at the top of his shirt, a few dark curls teasing the hair on him. The scar on the bridge of his nose is much harsher up close, much deeper than the countless other ones that dot his forehead, his temples. He doesn't look as tired today. Maybe he got some sleep after all.

So did you. You didn't dream.

"How was your day?" you ask. Joel's eyes flick up to yours for just a breath before he looks back down at his task. His mouth pulls up at the corner.

"Fine," he says. "Had to fix the water heater at Ellie's place."

A piece of hair falls in his face and you shove your palms under your thighs so you don't brush it back.

You tap his denim-clad thigh with your socked foot, almost like a compromise with yourself when it comes to touching him. "And that took all day?" Damn, are you the one flirting now?

Joel seems amused in a grumpy way. "Well, no," he says. The faucet is on so he speaks a little louder. "Did some house chores. Worked on a guitar. Took a nap."

The image of Joel sprawled out on a couch is clear as day. You bet he looks relaxed in his sleep, the lines on his face not as pronounced, his breathing steady and even.

"Busy day," you say softly. He's about to say more, lips parted to ask about your day, maybe, but you're not about to admit that you spent all day thinking about him so you keep talking before he can. "Does Ellie like living in the garage?"

"Think so," he says. "She spends a night in the house every so often but I think she likes havin' her own space. S'important to me to give her that."

This is uncharted territory. You desperately don't want to step in shit, to somehow make him bring his walls back up. Everyone is protective of the things they love in this world and for good reason and you're pretty sure there is nothing and no one Joel loves more than Ellie.

"She's a good kid," you offer. "Everyone in town loves her."

Joel smiles down at his hands, that soft, raw smile you've seen a few times when talking about her. It makes your chest ache. "She is," he admits. "Pain in my ass, too."

You want so badly to ask him the details. How did they meet? How did they get here? How did they become so devoted to one another? And what happened in the last twenty years to get him to right now, washing dishes in your kitchen?

But you haven't earned that stuff yet. Maybe you never will.

"Does she like Jackson?" You remember what he said about them settling in, sleeping in the living room with their shoes on. You imagine he kept watch for weeks, maybe months, before deciding it was safe.

He nods. "S'good for her to have friends. And havin' school is good for her. She's real smart." He clears his throat. "And you? D'you like it?"

"Well, I like it much better now that my hinges don't squeak."

Joel laughs. "I'll bet you do." He's almost done, everything from your chili-making washed and set aside to dry. He's doing your dishes from breakfast but shows no signs of stopping."Do you cook like this a lot?

Your brows furrow. "I-- no, actually," you admit. "It's just me, so. Not worth putting in the effort that often."

He turns off the tap and grabs a towel and starts to dry. You should offer to help but you feel frozen to the counter. If you get any closer to him you might snap. His jaw is tight.

"When Ellie and I --" he stops, takes a moment to focus on the bowl in his hands. Joel, you've noticed, doesn't tend to say things he doesn't mean, at least not to you. It's like he knows that every word counts in a life as unpredictable as this. "We had a bit of a rough patch last year and we didn't talk for a while. I was damn near eatin' canned veggies on days Tommy didn't drag me to the community meals." He sighs and sets the bowl on the counter ever so gently. Violence and tenderness go hand in hand with him. "Just didn't have it in myself to try cookin' if she wasn't there to eat it."

It's the most vulnerable thing he's said. He keeps doing this -- offering you pieces of himself that you want to hold close, that make you think maybe he wants you to know him.

"Joel--"

"I guess what I'm sayin' is it's easier to take care of yourself when you're also takin' care of people who matter to you. That make sense?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "It does."

The whole scene is so...domestic that your chest aches. Joel in your kitchen doing your dishes. He's helping you yet again but this feels different. It feels like he wants to be here, talking to you. It feels real.

He finishes his task and dries his hands on a faded towel. You hop down from the counter to check the chili. "Should be done," you say. "Do you want to try it? Make sure it's worth it?"

"Oh, it's worth it," he mutters. You work to keep your face neutral. What does that mean? "Sure."

You pull a spoon from the drawer and while it would make more sense to just hand it to him you don't. Instead, you dip it into the steaming liquid and hold it out for him, your other hand cupped underneath to catch any spill. Joel stares at your offering for a few seconds and you wonder if he can hear your heart beating.

Then Joel reaches out slowly like he's afraid you'll bolt if he goes too fast, and lightly wraps his hand around your wrist. It's the first time he's touched you skin to skin and you know immediately that it's a mistake.

You'll never stop wanting him now.

His palm is warm, callused fingertips pressing gently into your skin and he tugs, bringing the spoon -- and you -- closer to his mouth. Everything moves in slow motion for a few moments and it's like you are the only two people in the world. Your kitchen fades and it's just Joel. His lips part and he slides the spoon into his mouth at the same time as his thumb strokes the inside skin of your wrist.

It's very possible that you gasp a little.

He closes his eyes and you're torn between watching his face and his throat as he swallows. You could look at him forever, you think, and never get enough. The set of his brow, the hard line of his jaw. Lines around his eyes and mouth from years of terror and violence but also from laughter and smiles. You want to learn every inch of him if he'll let you.

"Christ," Joel says. His eyes fly open and find yours. "That's good. That's real good."

"You're just saying that," you say weakly. He hasn't let go of your wrist and his thumb strokes once again. You wonder if you realize he's doing it.

Something in his face changes, something so small that you only notice because you're watching. It feels like he has decided something and you wish you knew him well enough to say what. You dare to hope it has to do with you.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm a good liar but I ain't just sayin' that."

Sweetheart. It echoes in your ears, burrows its way into your chest and takes root.

You're so fucked.

But there's something in Joel's gaze, in the brush of his thumb across your skin, in the fact he's just done all of your dishes and talked to you like he wants to be here that gives your traitorous heart some ground to stand on.

You send him home with as many glass containers of chili as he'll take. He argues that you won't have enough for yourself and manages to convince you to keep a few. You don't tell him that what you really want is to sit next to him at a table and eat it, knees bumping under the wood and his smile making your empty house feel warm.

"Tell Ellie I say hi," you say once he's out your door and on the porch. "And let me know if she likes it."

"Will do," Joel says. You hug your arms around yourself against the chill. He frowns slightly.

You wonder if he'd touch you if his hands weren't full.

"And thank you for--"

He shakes his head. "Not acceptin' thanks," he chides. "Not from you."

You don't know what to say to that. Joel seems to realize he's rendered you speechless, not for the first time, and nods his head before heading home.

"See you around, Joel," you call after him. It sounds half like a question and half like a wish.

He turns. "Countin' on it."

___

You do see him around but not as much as you'd like. Things pick up around town before the seasons can change and send Wyoming into winter. You find yourself in the kitchen most days helping seal jars for the community food stores, hands chapped from the hot water and heart light when you think about Joel. He nods at you from across the dining hall, opens the door of the library when you're going in and he's coming out, and tells Ellie to tell you how good the chili was when you share a shift at the stables.

"Fucking amazing," she says.

You sleep fairly well, going to bed each night with a little bit of lightness in your heart that you allow because why not? There's no way out short of Joel telling you to fuck off and you don't think that'll happen. If only you could get over yourself a little more and actually do something about it.

As much as you want to keep telling yourself that this -- glances across rooms, smiles from a distance, memories of his hand on your skin -- is enough, you're not sure that it is. The force of your want is destabilizing considering the most that's happened is maybe a little bit of flirting. But maybe this is you taking his direction to ask for...no help, not exactly, but to ask for something. To ask for him.

Today you're going on patrol. You decide as you mount your horse that you're going to ask Joel if he wants to get a drink when you get back. You want to talk to him again, let him under your skin a little more. Maybe tell him some things about yourself. Sometimes he's milling around the gate or on wall duty but you don't see him as you and your partner -- a fairly new kid in his twenties -- take your rifles and head out. You're on an easy route today, just clearing out the town over the hill and the highway exits near Jackson. Shouldn't take you more than a few hours.

It goes to shit fairly quickly.

The kid -- Conner? Charlie? You can't remember -- is rambling about the infected he's killed for some reason when you realize something isn't quite right. You can't hear any birds. Apollo snorts and it sounds panicked. You motion for the kid to stop talking but he either ignores you or doesn't see.

He sure shuts up when the clicker bursts out of a house to your left. Apollo startles and rears at the moment you reach for your gun and you can't grab hold in time.

You go flying, bouncing off a rusted-out car and landing hard on the broken pavement of the street with a popping sound. There is a pain in your shoulder so intense your vision whites out. The kid is shouting, the clicker is making that awful sound, but then you hear two gunshots and nothing else.

"Holy fuck," he says, rushing over to you. "Fuck, are you okay?"

Well, for a talker, this kid a good shot.

"Get the -- horse --" You roll onto your back with a groan and he grabs Apollo and settles him.

"What happened?"

You stare up at the sky, blue turning purple. It'll be sunset soon and you very well might be fucked if this is what you think it is.

"I think my shoulder popped out," you say through gritted teeth. Your head doesn't hurt like you smacked it and your side is only a little sore. Maybe some bruised ribs. Your hands are scraped, blood beading on the heels of your palms. "Help me up."

"Holy shit." He helps you sit up and then stand, your left arm hanging limp at your side. You hiss through your teeth as it gets jostled and lean heavily on the car. "You don't look so good," he says. "Can you ride? We should only be a half hour out of town."

"I...don't think so." You're pretty sure you'll pass out from the pain and this kid doesn't look like he can handle that. You don't want to fuck up the joint any more than you have to. "You're going to have to go back and bring someone to set it for me, okay?"

"But the rules say --"

"I know what the fucking rules say," you snap. Don't let your partner out of your sight. Your shoulder is throbbing and you might cry but not until this kid is on his way back to town. "That's why you're going to go as fast as you can, alright?"

"We should at least clear a building first so you can --"

"No time," you say, looking at the sky. "If we want to be back before nightfall you need to go now. I'll handle myself."

You really should know his name. He sets his jaw in a move that reminds you of Joel which causes a pang in your chest so intense you want to rub it away. "I'll clear that garage, okay?" He points behind you and before you can stop him he runs towards it with his gun out.

Lucky for both of you it's clear. You take Apollo inside and slump against the wall, pistol in your hand. The kid closes the garage door behind him and you hear the clop of his horse as he gallops away.

"Fuck," you say into the empty room. It's dusty and full of cobwebs and not much else. Empty metal shelves, a rusted-out lawn mower, some tarps so ratted they're useless. Apollo snorts. "Not your fault, buddy."

Death has been nipping at your heels for twenty years now. You've always expected it. And you're fairly certain you won't die out here. Maybe end up spending a night on this floor, having to walk yourself back to Jackson tomorrow morning. But you can't help the fear that rises in your throat. You know how an injury like this means so much more in this world. You won't be able to work for weeks. You won't be able to patrol, to pull your weight.

You're going to need a lot of help.

You close your eyes against the stinging tears and thud your head against the wall.

The pain dulls the embarrassment you feel when you catch yourself thinking of Joel. You wish he was here. If you'd been on patrol together this wouldn't have happened. You wonder what he's going to think of this.

What you'd really like is for him to hold you and tell you it'll be alright.

A few tears slip down your nose. Apollo noses at your knee.

There are no windows so you don't know how much time has passed. You start to question if this was the right call. Maybe you could have made it back on horseback, or at the very least slung across the back of Apollo like a sack of flour, arm be damned.

Your traitorous brain is about to remind you of all the things that go bump in the night out here when you hear something.

Someone is calling your name. Yelling it.

"Here!" you scream. Apollo whinnies. "I'm here!" You have no idea if they can hear you. You press your good shoulder into the wall behind you and try to push yourself to your feet but just as you do the garage door is hauled open and there stands --

Joel.

A sob bursts from your throat and you will yourself to pull it together. Behind him the sky is much more orange than it was when you first sat down.

Joel's eyes look you up and down once before cataloging the space and locking on some milk crates. He stacks two of them.

"Sit," he says. His voice is tight.

"Joel --"

"Sit."

You do as he says. He kneels at your feet and rummages around in his bag. His horse stands munching on some overgrown grass on the driveway. Did he come alone?

"How are you here --"

Joel cuts you off with a glare. His eyes are blazing, jaw grinding as he holds out a length of bandage.

"Hold this." He stands and his knees crack. "Kid said it's your shoulder. Anything else?"

The throb is still deep, still intense, but his arrival almost made you forget all about it. You shake your head.

"Didn't hit your head? Crack ribs? Nothin' like that?"

"No, I don't think so --"

"Need you to sit up straight," he says. There's no warmth in his tone but it's a little softer now that he's taken stock of the situation. "I ain't gonna lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell." He digs in his pocket for something and pulls out a square of leather. "Need you to bite down on this."

He squats so that you're just about face to face and holds out the leather. It feels like being in your kitchen, you holding out the spoon and fighting your desire to touch him. Except this time he won't look you in the eye. You open your mouth and he gently places it between your teeth, thumb catching the corner of your lips and trailing along the edge of your chin before he pulls away and stands up.

"I'm going to reset it on three, alright? Bite down hard on that." He finally meets your gaze and you nod and close your eyes. He puts one hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist and you wince even though you feel incredibly safe in his hands. "Alright. One...two --"

Joel jerks your arm up and around before he hits three and you barely hear it pop back into place because, as he said, it hurts like hell. You bite down hard on the leather which also serves to muffle your scream.

Someone is talking to you."I know, baby, I know. Good job, you did a good job."

You open your eyes and wipe away a few tears with one hand and pull the leather from your teeth. Joel looks pained but his face snaps back to neutral when he sees you watching. His eyes narrow.

"Where did that come from?" He gently grabs your wrist and looks at your palm and you both find it bloody. "Got it on your face."

"Scraped my hands when I fell," you say hoarsely. He clicks his tongue.

"Give me that bandage." You don't even get a chance to hand it to him because he plucks it from your lap. "Gonna make this into a sling for this arm. Try not to move it much. Then we'll clean those hands and head home. Get you to the clinic for some meds." He gently positions your arm, which hurts a lot less than before but is still throbbing, and ties a sling so it's bent close to your chest. You can feel his breath on your neck as he does the knot.

And then he's back crouching in front of you.

Joel Miller on his knees for you so many times in one day makes you a little dizzy. Or maybe that's the adrenaline.

"Are you angry with me?" you ask softly as he wipes clean your palms and cheek with firm touches. The muscle in his jaw twitches again and his hands freeze for a split second.

"No," he says. "I ain't mad at you. I just can't believe the fuckin' kid left you here."

"I told him to."

"Can't believe that either. You know better."

"It's fine, Joel," you say. "It doesn't matter. I would have just walked back in the morning if no one came --"

He pulls his hands away and tosses the rag to the floor. "Damnit, it does matter," he curses. "'Course it fuckin' matters. Cut that shit out."

Now you're confused. It sure seems like he's angry with you. "Joel, I don't understand --"

His hands cradle your face and the protest dies in your throat. "You matter to me," he says thickly. His eyes are wide but his stare is steady. "Ain't it fuckin' obvious?" Anger and desperation are dripping from his words. "It matters."

For one long second you think he's going to kiss you. Now that might kill you.

You wrap one hand around his wrist and lean into his palm. A thousand thoughts swirl in your head but you focus on one. Joel is here which means you're safe. Joel is here which means he's going to take care of you. Joel is here. Joel is here. Joel is here.

"Oh," you breathe. You turn your face in his palm and press your lips to the center of it. His breath hitches and it feels like something big between you shifts, slots into place. "Okay," you say against his skin.

He pulls his hands away and stands. He works his jaw a few times before shouldering his pack and holding out his hand. "Let's go home," he says.

You stand with his help. "I think you'll need to help me get on my horse."

"Not a fuckin' chance," he growls but you can still see tenderness in his eyes. "Can't hold on well enough with one arm. We're ridin' together."

This Joel is one you haven't seen. But this is what you wanted, right? You want to see every part of him. Something molten and heavy sits in your stomach at how tense he is, how his hands remain gentle despite his harsh words. How he just told you that you matter to him. Maybe this is all a dream.

He helps you on his horse and then gets on behind you, tying Apollo's reigns to his so you won't lose him. He wraps one arm right around your stomach, mindful of your arm.

"Ain't gonna be comfortable," he says in your ear. "But it'll be over quick."

You lean back into him. Hell, it's all on the table now. If your arm is going to hurt you might as well enjoy your time pressed against him.

"Oh, I don't know," you say. "This isn't so bad." He snorts and snaps the reigns.

He talks low and steady in your ears as you gallop, his palm firm on your abdomen to keep you as still as possible though it's a hopeless venture. Your shoulder aches, sends sharp tendrils of pain through your entire arm with every stride.

He tells you that he was on the wall when your partner came back alone. That he knew something was wrong with you as soon as the kid came into view. He'd seen the patrol assignments and knew you were paired together. Kid didn't know what flag to use to signal his approach because you're not supposed to leave behind your partner.

Joel tells you how he hopped down from the wall and asked the kid where exactly he left you. Demanded to know how hurt you were, if you'd been bit. He was on a horse before anyone else could get their shit together, told them to get Tommy and have the clinic ready for you. Started hollering your name as soon as he got to the street, rifle ready for any infected to show up.

"Damn miracle when you yelled back," he says just as Jackson comes into view. You're sweating and dizzy from the pain, practically all of your weight slumped back into his chest. "Almost there, sweetheart. Doin' real good."

The rest of it is a blur. Joel takes you to the clinic where he becomes increasingly agitated that he set your shoulder wrong until one of the staff says he did it just fine. They give you a real sling and one painkiller to take if you hurt really bad, despite some harsh words from Joel in an attempt to get you more.

"Don't move it above your head for two weeks. Keep the sling on for that time, too. Ice it today, start moving it back and forth a few times in a few days. You got someone to help you for a bit?"

Before you can open her mouth Joel answer for you.

"Yes." The nurse hides her amusement well. She lets you go. Joel keeps his hand on your back as he walks you to your house.

You stop him when you get to your front door. "Joel --"

"If you're about to argue with me, so help me God, I'll --"

"I was going to ask if you need to go check on Ellie." You pull out your keys and after a second hold them out for him. Maybe letting Joel help you is helping him, too. You can handle that. You think.

"Told Tommy to when I left. I'll go home once we get you settled."

We.

"Okay," you say softly. He unlocks the door and motions for you to go in. You sit gingerly on the couch and Joel brings you a glass of water.

And then he paces. He looks at the books on your shelf without seeing them and rubs his thumb against his first two fingers over and over. And all of a sudden he won't look at you.

"Joel, sit down or something," you grumble. "You're making me nervous."

He stops. "Fine." His tone has a bit of bite to it that makes you close your eyes. There's an armchair in the room but he sits next to you instead. He presses his knee to yours, almost in apology.

The adrenaline has faded by now and all you feel is the ache of your shoulder and ribs and rawness of your palms and heart. The shoulder hurts like hell but in a way all of this hurts deeper, harder than that. In the way you know love, or the beginning of it, can hurt.

You sniffle.

Truth is you're overwhelmed. By what happened, by Joel coming to get you and saying all that shit. By him touching you, by him being here, by your own heart beating so quickly at his nearness. Even though you dared hope he felt something close to your affection for him it's a shock to realize he cares about you because you're you, not just because he's a good man. You've always wanted love that came from a place of purpose, which feels selfish on the best of days. You should just accept whatever kindness comes your way in this cruel world.

But, fuck, you've always wanted to feel chosen. Like you matter.

And you do. Right here, you do. From his own lips he's said you do.

You don't even realize you're crying until Joel curses softly and one wide, warm palm is on your face again.

"What's wrong? You hurtin'?" His thumb swipes at your tears. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." You press your face into his shoulder and he holds you, hand soft on the back of your head. "I'm just -- I'm just really glad you're here, Joel."

"Course I'm here," he says into your hair. "C'mere."

There's nowhere for you to go considering you're already pressed against him. But his arms come around you fully, mindful of your shoulder, and your fingers fist in his shirt.

You should be embarrassed. On the scale of fucked up shit that's happened to you, today is remarkably low. But you let yourself have this. You breathe him in and let him hold you.

"I was going to ask you to get a drink tonight," you mumble. His chest vibrates with laughter.

"That so?" he says. His hand rubs up and down your spine. "Reckon I'd say yes."

You pull back just enough to see his face. This close you can see how his eyes have a bit of gold in them. "Really?" Even with proof of his affection right in front of you it's a little hard to believe.

"Am I readin' this wrong?" he asks. "It's okay if I am--"

"No," you say quickly. "No, you're not."

"Thought so." His lips pull up at the corner just a bit. "But, still. You've had a real rough day, and --"

"Joel," you breathe. You free your good arm from your embrace and put your hand on his jaw. He's touched you plenty today and you want to give it a try yourself. His face is warm, his beard gently rubbing against your skin. His eyes flutter close for a breath before he opens them wide and leans into your hand just a little.

"Alright," he says softly. Then he says your name, just once, ever so tenderly. It sounds like a prayer.

Joel Miller kisses you in the middle of your living room. Despite the affection you've been nursing for him over the last little while you never allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss him.

It's like this: the first press of his lips is soft like he thinks you'll pull away. When you don't he takes your lower lip between his and presses a little harder. Your hand slides into his hair and he palms your hip with one of his and cups your face with the other. His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open for him, let him lick into your mouth. You sigh into it and tug on his hair just a little. Joel makes a sound deep in his throat and then pulls away.

You're both breathing heavier than before, both smiling. Joel presses his lips to your forehead, your temple. He holds you against him and you breathe against the skin of his neck.

"Will you let me take care of you?" he says into your hair.

"For my sake or yours?"

You think he'll laugh but he just breathes. "Both," he says. "Hell, you know what's goin' on here. I showed my hand. Been showin' it." He pulls away so you can see the honesty in his face. "I told you in as many damn words as I know how."

He did. He did and you make yourself believe it. Love in this life is worth holding on with both hands. Whatever this is, whatever this is going to become, you want it. You want to let this man continue to teach you to ask for help. You want to learn from him, maybe teach him a few things of your own.

You want to love him. You think you could sooner rather than later.

You trace the line of his brow, run your fingertip over the scar on the bridge of his nose.

"Can you kiss me again?" you ask.

"What a fuckin' question," he says. "C'mere."

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