Ni Ceta, Cyar'ika

Steam IV

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: ATLA au, enemies(?) to lovers, forbidden romance, royalty au

General Warnings: violence (bending fights), injuries (mentions of broken bones, burns, blood, bruises), alcohol consumption, mentions of prostitutionSmut Warnings: multiple smut scenes, fingering, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, marking, virgin!reader, wonwoo has a tiny bit of a corruption kink, breeding kink, marking

Length: ~19k | Fic Length: ~64k

Credits: banner: @caelesjjk and @shadowkoo | betas: @tomodachiii @miniseokminnies @gyuswhore @haologram and @wqnwoos

Note: ITS HERE, steam is officially done :(((((( i made the doc for this fic back in february and didnt start actually writing until October. now i've got over 64k words in the longest fic i've ever written. ill get weird if i talk to much. ALSO IMPORTANT!!! ice lilies look like lily of the valley. just for reference

summary: Wonwoo is the best fire bender in Capitol City. Or he is. But a water bender he's never seen before changes everything.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The dueling arena of the palace was massive; bigger than the warehouse Wonwoo was accustomed to fighting in; rows and rows of seats lining the entire perimeter of the central field, stone columns draped in blue fabric with the royal seal embroidered in silver thread. The rain from the previous day baked away in the hot sun hanging heavy in the sky. Guests lined the benches, not a single seat vacant, voices loud in excitement. The council of nobles sat at attention amongst them, weighing and measuring every man as a potential ally or enemy on the throne. Even Commander Aiko attended, sitting in one of the boxes reserved for the queen's personal guests. 

This was what they had been waiting for since your intent to marry was announced. This was all that mattered. 

Sweat dripped at Wonwoo’s collar. Not from the heat of the day in his black uniform but his own nerves. After the garden, you dragged him into your room, sat on his lap and kissed him for hours like it was the last time you two ever would. Wonwoo kept his clothes on - even as you plucked at the ties and buttons of his soaked uniform - he kept your wandering hands at bay. The queen had prepared him for what the others would say when he declared himself as a competitor, and he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of being right. Couldn’t live with himself.

Wonwoo thought of this morning. When you snuck into his room for one last kiss before the servants came to whisk you away, still in your nightgown, face soft with sleep and eyes half closed as you crawled into his bed and woke him with more of those maddening touches. If all he left the palace with was memories then those would be his fondest.

On the dais, you looked like the perfect image of royal propriety in pearl jewelry and a deep blue gown, back pin straight as you sat next to your grandmother. You kept your gaze forward on the field where the champions would be presented. All the traces of yesterday were gone. Now you sat as princess and soon-to-be queen; half of the woman Wonwoo loved. The other half hidden away in your sitting room, falling asleep as Wonwoo read from your book of stories to the symphony of the previous night's storm.

The Queen rose from her throne and approached the balcony to address the crowd. “Friends, esteemed guests. I am honored to host you today, as we gather for the tournament for my granddaughter, Princess YN’s, hand.”

The crowd roared in response. Wonwoo’s pulse hammered through his clenched jaw to the beat of their applause.

“Present your champions.”

Gyan, Char, Maoki, Bavruq, and others stepped forward, all with the same confident air swirling their shoulders. Wonwoo wasn’t scared. Especially not of Maoki. Even if he lost there would be satisfaction in wiping the floor with the smirky boulder bouncer. Bavruq was older, more experienced but that didn't scare Wonwoo either. He faced men twice his age, revered military men with medals of honor and walked away victorious. Char, Gyan, and the others were wildcards.

Wonwoo snuck to the edge of the balcony and descended the stairs into the arena as the last champions presented themselves. No one paid attention to him. He held the same weight as a servant, blended into the background because people purposefully ignored him. As such, no one stopped him from approaching the line where the other men waited.

He swallowed back his nerves and stepped forward as the queen motioned to speak again; just as she instructed him yesterday.

“There is one more challenger,” Wonwoo called.

The queen kept her face neutral and leveled him with a heavy look. “Who?”

“Me,” Wonwoo announced, chin tipped upwards.

The tension in the arena swelled and exploded. Wonwoo kept his eyes glued to yours, the way your jaw dropped in shock before the icy masks secured back into place. 

“What?”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Outrageous!”

“Who speaks for this man?” the queen asked.

“I do.” Aiko came forward, out of the raging crowd ready to murder Wonwoo. 

So that’s why the Queen invited him. Aiko nodded at him briefly, focusing on the queen. Wonwoo noticed a subdued air to the older man. Aiko only ever stood at attention, years of muscle memory keeping him taunt. This was different. The queen seemed to battle a smile.

When I was her age, I loved a man who was considered below my station. A guard who I became friends with as a young woman in the palace…

Aiko.

Wonwoo stood where his commander once stood, caught between his duty and his heart. History repeated itself and this time Aiko wouldn’t let you and Wonwoo make the same mistakes.

“The rules of the competition state any man of good standing with the crown may compete,” the queen said. “Our brave Commander Aiko vouches for Captain Jeon. He shall compete in tomorrow's games.”

If you didn’t murder him in his bed tonight.

The queen adjourned herself and the council of nobles. Others stayed, mingling and eying him with suspicion. Wonwoo kept his chin high, shoulders back. He would not show fear even in the face of starving wolves who wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out.

Eventually, the arena cleared. Han and Sami found him, and led him away to a different maid he’d never met before. She led him to a wide set of ornate double doors revealing a small suite in the western wing of the palace, as far away from your room as possible. His belongings were laid out in the room; books on the desk, clothes tucked away in the dresser. They must have moved everything immediately after the queen granted her blessing.

It didn’t strike him until then that of course he would no longer be sleeping in your apartment after declaring his intent to win your hand. Now, whether anyone liked it or not, Wonwoo was a suitor and propriety needed to be maintained. No more late night chats in your dining room or stumbling into your bath. No more whisking you away with fake meetings. You treated Wonwoo like an equal from the first day you met, it was the kingdom that now followed suit.

“These cords will call the kitchen,” the maid, Juli, explained, pointing to the crimson ribbon hanging from the walls, “and these will call the maid's quarters should you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

Wonwoo tried to relax in his new quarters but the quiet unnerved him. Only a few weeks ago he would have found this space to be a blessing but now it felt too big, too lonely. The suite had a small training area and he worked through his forms over and over again, welcoming the ache in his muscles as distraction. 

His confidence rose with each punch and kick. Those royals and nobles probably sparred with tutors too nervous to push them, who always let them away with an easy win and a pat on the back. Wonwoo grew up fighting in the streets of the Middle District, spent hours in the ring where it was win or starve. He knew what it was like to fight with something to lose. Now he stood to lose you and he refused.

He’d win. There was no other option as far as he was concerned. 

After a final set, Wonwoo retired to his bedchamber, quickly washed up in the bathroom that reminded him too much of yours and then fell into a shallow sleep.

Chaos claimed the council chamber. Nobles from each house attempted to speak their grievances over one another, echoing the same sentiment again and again. 

“He cannot compete! It is a shame to our allies!” 

“Lock him in the dungeon for insubordination!” Lord Zo hissed. 

Fists slammed against tables, chairs clattered to the ground as more incensed men rose to their feet to yell across the aisle.

“He is a commoner! He has no title!”

“If his lack of title is such a cause for concern then perhaps he can have yours, Lord Gaha,” your grandmother responded. Her voice chilled the air and immediately the ranchous nobles silenced under the threat. She looked giddy.

“Your Majesty, I only mean—”

“How dare we entertain the thought of a peasant on the throne? A peasant who doesn’t even know the first thing about ruling a kingdom!” Lord Baelor roared. “It’s dishonorable to even consider the notion—“

Dak threw his hands in the air. “You’re one to talk of honor. Your nephew has enough bastards to fill half the arena!”

Belaor’s face flushed ruby red. “He has no right to wear the crown. To consider the possibility is an insult.”

“The competition is designed to measure a person’s merit,” interrupted Senator Mo. “Not their luck to be born in the correct family.”

“The law states anyone of good standing can compete. Aiko, you vouched for the man. What do you say?” The queen asked Commander Aiko,

“Captain Jeon is one of the few, perhaps the only, man I would consider to be my successor,” Commander Aiko announced. “He is as good a man as any other presented today. I’d consider it a grave miscalculation for anyone to think differently.”

“But what message are we sending by allowing him to compete? And what if he wins? Does he bring money? Connections? Allies?”

Minister Gul had a point. Your grandmother married for wealth and allies, your parents much the same. Political marriages brought benefits to the kingdom. A marriage with Wonwoo only brought benefits for you.

“I believe you are getting ahead of yourself, Minister Gul,” you responded shakily.

“If Captain Jeon wins, then he will rally the citizens of the kingdom. To see one of their own kind ascend to power, to be respected, that is a man that can rule a country. Not a stranger from far away who will send people off to die in their own wars without understanding the sacrifices they are making in his name.” Your grandmother nodded. “But first he must win the tournament on his own and prove he is a better man.”

Grumbles of begrudged approval echoed through the chamber.

“Since it is her marriage, I believe the decision ultimately is my granddaughter’s.”

Dozens of eyes turned to you expectantly. A part of you, a spiteful sliver of your conscience, wanted to reject Wonwoo’s attempt to compete; punish him for leaving you in the dark. You seethed at your grandmother for planting ideas in his head. 

“If he wishes to compete then I say let him. If it is the lack of title you are concerned about then I will remind you all that title doesn’t prevent people from dying for the crown in our army. It should not prevent someone from sitting on the throne either.”

No one spoke then, the words hung in the air like heavy fog. You stared at Galin, pinning him in place until he cleared his throat and spoke.

He sputtered to attention. “The princess is wise. If she believes Captain Jeon should be eligible to compete then I agree with her.”

“He has proven himself to be a man of honor which is more what I can say of the others who came forward today,” Dak chimed in.

Others slowly began nodding. Several were on the list Galin delivered to your office shortly after your meeting. You eyed them pointedly until they also agreed. Loudly.

“Then it is settled,” your grandmother said firmly.

A few grumbled under their breath, but voiced no more objections despite the obvious desire on their face; flaring tempers, clenched fists, and furrowed brows. The decision had been made. Wonwoo would compete.

The meeting adjourned and on the way back to your apartment, you hatched your own plan.

It took some begging for Han to lead you through the tunnels to Wonwoo’s new accommodations. If your grandmother thought tucking him away in a secluded wing of the palace could keep you away, she was wrong.

“This is so romantic,” she sighed dreamily.

You stewed in silence a few paces behind her. It wouldn’t be romantic when you screamed at him for being an idiot. Before you burned through the last of your patience, she stopped in front of a door and took her leave.

Your annoyance waned at Wonwoo’s sleeping face, bittersweet fondness swelling in your heart. He was flopped on the mattress - too tired to pull the covers aside apparently - snoring softly. You cupped his cheek and smiled when he nuzzled into your palm gently.

Then you dumped the pitcher from his side table on his head.

“What the hell?” he coughed.

It gave you enough satisfaction to pull the water from the bed sheets into an orb over his head and drop it again.

“Stop!” Wonwoo sputtered and glared up at you.

“No!” You lifted your arms to do it again but Wonwoo caught your wrists, flipped you beneath him and pinned your arms into the pillows. “Get off me!”

“Stop trying to drown me!”

“No!”

You thrashed against him and Wonwoo flattened on top of you. “Then you’re staying put.”

“This was your plan?” you seethed. The vase on his dresser cracked from your anger, the water frozen solid. Wonwoo held fast, and you deflated in resolution.

“I knew you wouldn’t agree, which is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Of course I wouldn’t agree!” you scoffed. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I assure you I’m very sane.”

“You can’t assure me of anything.” You thrashed again, this time flipping him over and pinning him beneath you. He could’ve gotten out of the hold if he wanted to but instead he rested his hands on your thighs and gave a reassuring squeeze. “They’re going to try to kill you and make me watch. I… how can you ask me to sit through that?”

Something wounded flashed through his gaze. “You don’t think I can win?”

You knew he could win but you didn’t want him to pay the price to. He didn’t get it. How much it would hurt you to watch him take a beating for your sake. Over and over and over again. You wanted to shake him until he understood. Outside the window, the moon sat small in the night sky, a little more than a crescent, edges blurred by thin clouds. You felt it like fingers up your spine. So small and powerless.

“They’ll stop at nothing to prove a point! If you lose you'll spend months in the infirmary and if you win then you’ve made some very powerful enemies.”

“If I lose then you marry someone else and if I win you marry me. So I just won’t lose.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “Well if it’s that simple.”

It wasn’t easy to admit you were scared, like swallowing a mouth full of ash. You couldn’t see him hurt because of you, for you. Even if he won, what was the price he’d have to pay at the hands of scorned men who thought of him as nothing more than a thorn in their side. 

“Fine. Get yourself killed, see if I care.” You rolled off him with an ‘arrogant hothead’ under your breath before moving towards the door. Wonwoo rushed to catch you and pinned you against the wall. 

“When I win, will you have me?” Wonwoo dragged the tip of his nose against yours, eyes sinking shut as the tension swelled. You didn’t push him away. You didn’t want him anywhere other than where he was at that very moment even if you wanted to dump another pitcher over his head. You wanted him by your side. Always.

You kissed him once then responded with a frown. “Win and find out.”

Wonwoo kissed you again. He kissed your cheeks, chin, your nose. The wrinkles in your brow that refused to smooth. He was still so warm with sleep and it lulled your raging pulse until you surged and caught his mouth in a frenzy.

You didn’t know everything about marriage. In fact, you knew very little and realized more and more how out of your depth he was as the hours passed since that morning. But right then you couldn’t help believing that it was the first testament to what a life with him would be. One of you inevitably upsetting the other, only to forgive just as swiftly; flowing back and forth just like your elements. A flicker and an inferno, a ripple and a tsunami.

“Wait,” you blurted, pulling away from his hold. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Then let me apologize.” Wonwoo lifted you onto the dresser, parted the front of your robe and bunched the fabric of your nightgown around your thighs before claiming the space between them. He released a deep breath as he discovered how little you wore beneath. 

You hadn’t walked across the palace without underwear or bindings with any intent. Not that it mattered. You tugged at the tie on his sleep shirt until he stood in nothing but his bottoms. Soft touches have you both warm, sighs of breath ruffling your hair line. Your arms snaked around his shoulders - fingers diving into the short hairs at the base of his skull - and exhaled. “Is this how you plan to apologize every time we argue?”

“Depends…” His fingers slipped up, too high on your thigh but not high enough. Nowhere near where you wanted him to touch you; just grazing, before moving away.

If Wonwoo plans to tease then you will too. 

“On?” You sucked his ear lobe.

Wonwoo grunted at the sting, fingers rising a fraction higher. “How willing you are to forgive me afterwards.”

“Then I guess that depends…”

“On?”

“If previous experiences are anything to go by, then that leaves me in a very difficult position.” You faltered into an airy sigh as he bit your collarbone. All teeth and no mercy. Your blood turns thick as he does it again further up your neck.  “And I really want to be mad at you.”

His hands ran across your ribs, cupped your breast as he thumbed your stiffening nipples. He pulled back to look over you, cheeks pink and eyes glazed, far too cocky for your liking but you let it slide. Just once.

“Still angry?”

“Furious.”

He took a nip of your pulse and smiled when you choked on a moan. Then you kissed him, grabbed his face and pulled him close with a desperate arch in your spine. The hard tent of his pants pressed into your core. An easy target for your wandering hands. 

“I,” his voice hitched from a tight fist. “I thought I was apologizing.”

It was your turn to smile and tease. “Can’t multitask?”

“I—” he choked into a brilliant shade of red as you dipped your hand beneath the fabric and thumbed the leaking tip.

“What’s wrong?” you smirk, palming him with more vigor. “Something distracting you?” 

You pressed your tongue along his lower lip, invited it into his mouth and swallowed his moan as you worked him with quick, tight strokes. Your knees itch to sink to the ground and put your mouth on him, lick and suck his cock the way he did to you. Give him a fraction of the relief that's been so greedily reserved for only you up until now.

“You…” Wonwoo panted against your neck. ”You fight dirty.”

“Me?”

Wonwoo pulled you off the dresser, knocking your hand away as you both tripped towards the bed. He pushed you down with a light bounce before laying on top of you and biting at your chin. “Take your dress off.”

“Whatever for?” you gasped. You knew but wanted him to say it; wanted him to vocalize how badly he wanted to touch you.

You pushed him off with a jagged finger on his chest and waited.

Like always, Wonwoo met the challenge head on. 

“I want to taste you,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear. “I want to make you come again and again and again until you can’t remember your own name. Keep you in this bed until they drag me away.” Your hips curled into nothing. “I want you to be my wife, and let me take care of you the way a husband should.”

You sunk deeper into the mattress, the only thing preventing you from floating away was Wonwoo’s weight and his fingers wedging between your thighs to take advantage of the slippery warmth. He didn’t try bartering for access, simply flipping the fabric up until it pooled around your throat. “And how is that?”

He sucked a nipple between his teeth, rougher than before; patience worn thin from having his cock in your hand. It sat sticky and used against your thigh and the horribly tempting thought of what would happen if you touched him the way he touched you took root.

Wonwoo inside you, surging between your legs like he had in your hand; cumming inside you, marking you as his. The first. The only. Your core clenched.

You tried to sink a hand down, circle him in a tight grip with hopes he’d maybe make the tempting fantasy real. But he snatched it away and pinned it beside your head. Huffing his name, you pouted against placating kisses. 

Wonwoo dragged you closer to the edge of the bed. You're exposed perfectly to his eyes, body completely on display to be touched exactly how he wanted to. Focused on rubbing your clit until you couldn’t breathe, Wonwoo sank to his knees at the edge of the mattress and put his mouth to use pressing teasing kisses across your hips. His teeth raked over your hip bone. “Tell me what you want, Your Highness.”

You couldn’t think straight enough to chastise him for the name, angling him closer with a hand in his hair. “You.”

“More specific.” He gave a shallow thrust of a finger but that was all.

“Touch me,” you whined pathetically.

“I am.” You felt his laughter against your skin. Another press of his finger but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

“I want—I want you to…Wonwoo, please.”

He pushed your legs wider, making more room for himself as he licked a broad strip up your core. A throaty groan vibrated against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. He sucked tenderly at your clit. Your back arched, nipples aching for more attention. 

“Don’t stop,” you warned. 

You moaned at the electrifying feeling when he gently coaxed your clit to life with his tongue, tracing it with devastating precision over and over again, lapping away the arousal he’s stoked out of you in excess. He didn’t let you rut into the friction. Kept you pressed flat for whatever plans he had, biting the crease of your thigh before resuming mind numbing touches. 

You watched his lips, pink and swollen, as he lathered your core in wet kisses and then suctioned tight until you bowed off the bed. The fingers curved into your inner walls warmed, easing the stretch enough you choke on a beg for another. “Oh, spirits.”

He licked a little firmer, refusing to treat you as something fragile when you chant his name the way you learned he liked. If this was an apology you’ve forgiven him tenfold. Every swipe of his tongue dragged you deeper; forgetting anything beyond where he pulled your strings like a puppet master.

The feeling tickled up your legs. You’ve sweated out of your own skin, warm and blushing head to toe. Everything’s tighter, hotter - wetter - as Wonwoo snuck a hand up your front and flicked your nipple until it hardened. You stopped thinking. Let him give whatever he could, soaked in the attention until his name like a weak mantra until your voice broke. Your thighs squeezed numb and finally that feeling snapped into a million pieces.

When your heart calmed and feeling returned, your lover was already tracing a gentle trail up your body with his mouth. Wonwoo nestled close, cock hard against your thigh. “Forgive me?”

You cupped his wet cheeks and kissed him until the taste of your own arousal faded away. The warmth of his body on yours left you sweating. Too hot to be touching like that but tomorrow he’d be entering the lion's den, and it’d be a miracle if he came back to you completely unscathed. 

Your greed was Wonwoo’s downfall.

He fell to his back with gentle prodding, taking the initiative to pull you into his lap and pointedly ignore your nudity in such close proximity to his; cock displayed out in the open, pants halfway down his thighs. Wonwoo let you memorize all the ridges of muscle and soft plains of his chest; laid there silently through the painstaking tease of your fingers mapping his body. His only demands came in the form of weighted kisses to your lips.

You watched him fight the urge to touch you as well; fingers twitching where he gripped your sides, hands smoothing over bare hips in an attempt to distract himself, jaw clenching as your nails caught on his nipples. You were the queen of the world in his bed.

Wonwoo sucked a tight breath through his teeth when you gripped his cock once more.

He shut up when your tongue traced the curve of his thigh, down, down, down until his cock sat front and center. Steeled with false bravado, you licked the tip, savoring the taste leaking eagerly. His hips kicked, nudging the head through your lips into the wet heat of your mouth, catching you off guard. Wonwoo choked out an apology but you ignored it; seeing him lose control was more intoxicating than ten bottles of fire whiskey.

You did what he had done to you before, sucking and licking, gaining more confidence with each throaty groan you received. You felt dirty; on your knees for a man who wasn’t your husband yet, cock in your mouth, how it turned you on to have him completely exposed and at your mercy. 

You pressed a kiss to the tip and pulled back. “Does it feel good?”

Wonwoo answered with another indecipherable grunt and you took it as permission to suck his cock back between your lips. He cued you into the motions; back and forth and back and forth. The same rhythm used on his fingers and face to find your own end. Each time he moaned you took it a little deeper, preening as he choked in shock at the barrier of your throat.

“I-I’m —fuck— I’m gonna,” he grunted, fingers flexed at his sides, so dedicated to maintain some semblance of control. 

That wouldn’t do.

The competitive part of your brain, the side that was unignorable in Wonwoo’s presence, roared at the challenge. You sucked him deeper, eyes watering as instinct guided you through.

He tried not to thrust into the brutal sanction, hands flying to the sheets, grip hard enough his arms shook as he watched you with rapt attention. The beginning of a blush spread through your cheeks as he gawked boldly. 

You jumped back in shock as evidence of his spend flooded your mouth. Some dribbled down your chin, stained your lips, mixing with spit as he came on your pout. You didn’t mind the taste; you could learn to love it if the universe gave you another chance to unravel Wonwoo one thread at a time. You swallowed the mess, licked it up from what your tongue could reach, sucked his softening cock again for good measure until he tugged you up his body and rolled on top of you, hiding his face in the curve of your neck.

“You are…” he grunted, “going to cause me a lot of problems.”

You brushed back the hair sticking to his face, soaking in his glow like it's your own. “Still plan to marry me?”

“Of course.”

“Good.”

He begged you to stay; not in words but touches. Pulling your clothes from your hands, lacing his arms around your waist and tugging you back to the bed each time you tried to get up.

It wouldn’t hurt to bend a little. The palace was fast asleep and no one would come looking for you for hours so you allowed him to pull you down and spoon you from behind. You sighed and moaned as he kissed your neck and wedged a hand between your legs until you came again. When you tried touching him in turn he shivered with sensitivity and pushed your hands away.

When you rose to leave the final time, Wonwoo had started to nod off and you weren't much better; eyes burning from fatigue and brain fuzzy from another orgasm under the hands of your lover.

The door to the tunnels was tucked away behind a pillar near the bathroom door. Wonwoo watched you with keen eyes as you made your way to it. “And where does this passage go? Your office? The gardens?”

“Actually,” you turned with a smile and eyed the stain on the front of his trousers, “This one leads to my bedroom.”

“Don’t tempt me with that,” he groaned, flopping back on the mattress.

“Survive tomorrow and maybe I’ll show you the way.”

You fell asleep clinging to the tiny spark of hope in your chest.

The arena boomed like an organized riot. Ranchous voices filled the space, deafening as the nobles and servants alike clamored with excitement in the stands. 

It was truly no different than the warehouse Wonwoo grew up fighting in. If Jeonghan appeared then he’d start taking bets, Dokyeom would lead the crowd in cheers and make a huge spectacle of the match. Seungcheol would watch from the highest stands with his wife. Wonwoo saw his friends easily fitting into the unfamiliar space and it gave him the confidence he needed to step into the battlefield.

Maoki stood at the opposite end of the field, bouncing from one foot to the other. He looked nervous; beet red face already covered in sweat. Maoki was a senator which meant he probably never saw a real fight, let alone participated in one. He probably did his military service the same way all noble sons did: symbolically. 

You sat high above the rest. The crown of silver and jewels glittered in the sun, face stoic. You stared at nothing while Wonwoo stared right at you as the official recited the rules, hoping to catch your gaze before he humiliated Maoki in front of everyone. When the official said his name, you finally looked, startled to find him already waiting to greet you. You rushed to look away but Wonwoo caught the twitch of your lips threatening to bloom into a smile.

He remembered last night, how you felt beneath him, on top of him. How you knelt between his legs with wide eyes, face shining with his cum. He focused on the more innocent acts like you tracing shapes between his shoulders or the snorts of over tired laughter. When he won this match he’d go back to his quarters and hear that melodic calming sound again.

Wonwoo didn’t risk finding out if Maoki was as unskilled as he seemed. After the call to start the match, he charged forward, blades of fire filling his hands. 

Maoki slammed a stone pillar into his gut and sent Wonwoo skittering back. He managed to dodge the next blow aimed straight for his head and rushed forward again. Maoki yanked the ground from beneath his feet, but Wonwoo used the momentum to leap over Maoki and slam his foot into the center earhtbender’s chest.

Fear and pain twisted Maoki’s face. He raised his hands and the earth around Wonwoo’s feet formed thick boots, locking him in place as the other man hurled huge chunks of rock at him. Wonwoo threw his arms up and defended from the worst of it, jets of fire crumbling the largest boulders into pebbles. There was no way out of the trap without breaking his ankles unless Maoki stopped his assault.

Wonwoo didn’t have to think long about escaping because the force of the next boulder launched him out of the trap and sent him sprawling across the arena. Something in his side made a sickening crunch, it hurt to breathe too deeply. He refused to stay down despite the pain. If he lost this competition, it wouldn’t be to someone like Maoki. He’d rather die.

“You think she loves you? You’re nothing, just some pathetic babysitter with a crush,” Maoki sneered.

Wonwoo stayed silent and dodged the next onslaught of dagger like earth, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he rushed to where Maoki stood. Maoki sent a thick wall to prevent him from gaining ground but Wonwoo sprung over it and blasted a stream of fire from his fist. 

Maoki rolled out of the way. “Unless… you’ve already had her.”

“You piece of shit!” Wonwoo roared, fire blazing from his fists. The air reeked of ozone. Lightening jumped from his skin but Wonwoo pulled it tighter, stuffed deep down where he maintained control. He couldn’t kill Maoki no matter how much he wanted to.

The shorter man’s face lit up with petty pride. “Is that it? You damaged the princess and now you think you’re doing something honorable?”

The earth churned beneath Wonwoo’s feet but he was faster.

He saw nothing but the ruby blood gushing from Maoki’s nose.

Silence. The arena sat in complete silence as Maoki fell to his knees, clutching the burned side of his face, shrieking in pain. No one moved. No one cheered. Only Maoki’s choked gasps filled the arena.

You told Wonwoo they would make an example of him if given the chance, so he made an example of Maoki first.

He knelt beside Maoki, watched him writhe in pain. The smell of burnt flesh rolled his stomach but Wonwoo didn’t flinch away. “If you ever say anything about YN again, she’s the one you’ll answer to. And she will not be as merciful as I am.”

Wonwoo stepped back as healers rushed to the fallen man’s side. Maoki would be fine, Wonwoo put more of his fist behind the blows than his fire. The burn they would heal; but the shame Maoki felt would linger forever.

Good.

“First victory: Captain Jeon!”

Wonwoo remained on his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain radiating across his entire body demanding attention. Spots floated in his vision and his ear rang with a high pitched screech. The hand that made contact with Maoki’s face was definitely broken, hanging limply by his side. But he walked back to his room without assistance, locked himself away in his room, and promptly passed out from the pain.

Wonwoo didn’t wake until after you started healing him. You cleaned away the dirt and caked blood with a wet cloth, careful of broken bones and tender muscles. He was so tired he didn’t budge an inch, only the shallow rise and fall of his chest proving he was, in fact, still alive.

You focused on washing away some of the grime matting the hair around his temple and when you leaned away, a pair of brown eyes greeted you.

“What were you doing out there? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Getting my ass kicked wasn’t a part of the plan,” he croaked.

You poured him a glass of water and held it to his lips. “Oh, so now there’s a plan.”

He drank until the cup emptied before answering. “There’s always been a plan. First, I win. Then, I beg you to marry me. And then, you finally take pity and say yes.”

“What an incredible plan, I can’t believe I ever doubted you.” You set the glass down and conjured water to cover your hands. “Now hold still.”

“It hurts.” He groaned and attempted to wiggle away but didn’t make it very far before giving up.

“I haven’t even touched you.”

“It still hurts.”

“It’ll hurt worse if you don’t hold still and let me help.”

With most of the filth wiped away the damage became clear. You healed the smaller scrapes littering his torso and arms, then the bruises. It took several passes but they slowly cleared until nothing but unblemished skin remained with faint pink scars. His hand was nasty work, broken bones wrapped in angry swollen flesh. He stiffed as you lifted it, a choked scream stuck in his chest, then relaxed as the healing water enveloped it, soothing away the pain.

Then it was time for his ribs.

“Don’t move. The closer to your heart the more risk,” you warned, hands cloaked in freshwater. He jumped as the bones knit back together, winced in pain but sat still. “Okay, I can’t do much more now. You’ll be sore tomorrow but Raza gave Jao some nasty blows so at least you’ll be evenly matched.”

He panted. “Great.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” You crossed towards the bathroom with the pitcher in hand, dumping it in the sink and returned to find Wonwoo sitting up at the edge of the bed like he attempted to follow you but couldn’t manage it.

“I know—” he panted.

“If you talked to me about it first then—“

Wonwoo cut in. “Then what?”

There was no then. You’d been completely resigned to your fate while Wonwoo made a plan, found an ally in your grandmother. There was no use in suffering through hypotheticals. He would win with his blood and sweat and your tears shed in the solitude of your room. But you didn’t have to like it.

“I don’t like watching you get hurt,” you admitted quietly, taking the space between his spread legs and cupping his face.

Wonwoo snorted and looked up at you. “Unless you’re the one doing it.”

“You make me sound horrible.”

“My sincerest apologies, Your Highness.”

You combed a hand through his hair. “I have you at my mercy and you want to insult me?”

Wonwoo wrapped his arms around your waist, still careful of his hand, and buried his face in your stomach.

“Stay,” Wonwoo sighed.

You kissed the top of his head, fingers following the muscles across his back. He’s had knicks and scraps there too. You tugged at the water in the vase on his dresser and soothed them away. “I can’t.”

“Just for a little while. Don’t think I forgot about you showing me how to get to your room.”

“I don’t think you're in much condition to make use of the information,” you smiled.

One brown eye cracked up, peeking up at you. “All I wanted was to sleep. What were you thinking?”

It took great effort to get him beneath the covers but once he was settled you claimed the space next to him. If this brought him comfort you’d oblige. Maybe it brought comfort to you too. After watching him take a beating it was nice to feel the solid weight of his body next to you, the warm smell of smoke and spice that clung to him no matter what; knowing he was okay, at least for now. Your grandmother said the first flower to bloom had the most difficulties, and bloom Wonwoo did. The palace murmured with quiet curiosity after his victory.

A few hours of sleep wouldn’t be so bad. You slept better knowing he was nearby anyway. You rained gentle kisses over the side of his face, careful to avoid the lingering bruises. Wonwoo hummed in content, trying and failing to catch your lips with his own. 

“I love—”

“Don’t.”

He leaned back and gave a puzzled look.

You brush a kiss against his frown. “I want to hear it after you win.”

Because a part of me is terrified that you won’t.

The objection sat on his face but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he burrowed down into your chest and slept.

When he woke up the first time, you’re still there, eyes dropping while staring out the window. Every time you started to nod off you jolted awake, paranoid until his chest swelled with another breath. The moon swelled in the sky, daylight still a long ways off. 

“You stayed,” he whispered, burrowing down into your chest to savor the comfort for a few more minutes.

Your hand didn’t stop tracing lazy shapes between his shoulder blades. “You asked me to.”

“You need to get back before—“

“Let me worry about that.” You smoothed the wrinkle in his brow with your thumb. “Sleep.”

Wonwoo did.

When Wonwoo woke the second time, you were gone, the bed sheets already long cooled. You could heal his injuries but the exhaustion for yesterday lingered deep in his veins, making itself at home and weighing him down. He stumbled out of his suite and towards the arena for another fight. 

Under the blazing sun, his fire burned hotter. More powerful. Easier to call upon. But whatever advantage he had in the midday sun, Jao had too. Wonwoo approached the center of the arena, the dry earth cracking beneath his boots. The nobles in the stands sat up straighter, strained their jeweled necks for the best view. His victory yesterday sent ripples through the ranks. Or at least, that's what the maids talked about as he ate breakfast. All were curious about the supposed dark horse that burnt half a senator's face off and walked away in silence.

“Prince Jao of the Earth Kingdom, and Captain Jeon of the Royal Army,” the official called. Jao tilted his chin cockily, and eyed the cheering crowd. Jao was your friend, he remembered. But Jao was also a prince and standing in Wonwoo’s way. He wouldn’t take the same vengeance like he had on Maoki but a fight was a fight.

The official signaled them to start and without preamble, Wonwoo thrusted his hands forward, unleashing a vicious wave of fire. The flames crackled, swirled violently like an inferno out of control, the air shimmered around it from the heat.

And hit nothing.

Jao dodged, sidestepped, and parried no matter how Wonwoo attacked him; used only the minimal energy necessary to deflect or avoid each blow. Wonwoo’s body ached, but his pride fueled him.

“You’re quite skilled, Captain Jeon,” Jao commented, feet slipping in the dry dirt.

Wonwoo wasted more energy chasing the prince around the ring, the high sun banishing their shadows into nothing and burning the fire from his body hotter. He pressed and pressed until Jao finally stumbled. A glimmer of hope to end the battle before Jao took advantage of his waning energy crumbled as the prince leapt back to his feet and danced around again.

“Quit playing around,” Wonwoo growled.

Jao ducked beneath the stream of fire and rose again. “Might I say, I wasn’t sure until yesterday but watching you smack Maoki around warmed my heart.”

“He’s a prick.” Wonwoo waited this time. No use fighting against someone who only evaded. They circled each other, fists raised in loose form but came to a lull in fighting.

“Unfortunately, he comes from a long line of them.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help it, he laughed.

“You’re an honorable man, Captain Jeon. But being honorable doesn’t mean you’re good enough for YN.”

His hackles raised like a wolf under attack. The smell of lightning came again from Jao’s words. A part of Wonwoo agreed he would never measure up but it wouldn’t stop him from trying. “And you are?”

Jao looked over Wonwoo’s shoulder, where you sat. Your guard protecting you like he was bound to; from any ill fit suitor. “You love her?” 

“Do you think I’d sign up for this insane contest if I didn’t?”

Jao side stepped again, driving Wonwoo around to face you before speaking. The change in position wasn’t lost on him as Jao spoke again. “Men do all sorts of ridiculous things for power.”

“Her crown is the least interesting thing about her.”

Jao’s gaze flickered with approval. 

“I’m here as a favor to YN. But I believe I’m no longer needed.” Jao knocked away Wonwoo’s unthreatening volleys easily. “It would be a shame if you took advantage of my weak ankle.”

A trap. A fakeout. Wonwoo didn’t let his guard down to take the bait. “What?”

“Horrible injury when I was a child. Broke it in three places, never the same again.” Jao said beneath his breath. “My left ankle, by the way.”

Wonwoo swept the man’s feet out from under him with a flaming kick and sent him sprawling. He launched a series of fireballs as Jao rolled across the ground, careful to ensure each one fell short. Jao lifted a wall of fire to defend himself but it was weak. Wonwoo launched through it and landed squarely on top of Jao, pinning his chest down with his knee. He stopped from crushing the man’s nose when Jao eagerly shouted.

“I yield!”

Wonwoo helped Jao to his feet. They were both filthy though the amount of blood staining Wonwoo’s clothes was considerably less than yesterday. Jao limped next to him as they both returned to the center of the field. 

The official lifted Wonwoo’s hand for the cheering crowd. “Second victory: Captain Jeon!”

Jao waved away the healers buzzing like a swarm of bees around them, instead walking side by side with Wonwoo back towards the tunnels.

“I would say don’t hurt her, or else,” Jao smiled. “but we both know she is more than capable of fulfilling the ‘or else’ herself. Next time, don’t burn my shirt. This is one of my favorites.”

“Next time?”

“I intend on a rematch - friendly of course - once you’re the prince. And I won’t go easy on you. Even if your girlfriend scares me.”

“She scares me too.”

“Good luck, Wonwoo.” Jao nodded and left Wonwoo to find the way back to his own rooms by himself.

You healed Wonwoo again but thankfully his injuries from Jao were minimal; superficial burns that stung rather than hurt and singed hair. They were nothing compared to the damage from the previous day but Wonwoo let you coo and fret over him. When you were done he pulled you beneath the covers and nuzzled that space beneath your jaw. He wanted to touch you. Wanted to savor your taste and those delightful noises you made when he did something that pleased you. But he was so very tired.

As you touched him, massaged the knotted muscles of his back free and untangled the hair on his forehead, it soothed some untouchable part of him that ached. Even with the worst of the day, he found something healing in you. He knew you didn’t want to hear him say he loved you. He understood why. How painful to hear the words, knowing they were true, only for him to lose the tournament. But he also knew that even if you didn’t say it, you showed him how much you cared as you cleared away bumps and scrapes from his body, studied him for any lingering pain and healed him until your brow sweated with exhaustion.

He fell asleep as his heart thumped steadily, and in the morning you were gone again. 

You hated leaving Wonwoo. He looked so boyish in his sleep; face slack, lips pursed in a pout. But you had to be back in your room by sunrise. So you slipped from beneath him, left a final kiss on his brow, and set for the tunnel before the servants started rising.

Hours later Han and Sami arrived to dress you for the day. Neither mentioned Wonwoo. They chattered between themselves, happy to fill your place in the conversation with their own voices. They didn’t think twice of your silence or the bags under your eyes or how you kept nodding off while they combed your hair and straightened your gown.

A woman in a position such as yours, with the man she loved fighting not only for her hand but his own life, would spend most of the night restless. They were happy to believe that story and not the fact they both knew you had a direct path to Wonwoo’s room and no supervision to put a stop to it.

When the games started again at noon, you were wide awake.

Yesterday’s matches drained you. Wonwoo beat Jao easily but it was Bavruq that gave you concern. The match between him and Char lasted hours. Both men refused to concede even as the arena threatened to crumble around them. Just as one gained advantage, the other regained his footing. It was a battle of wills until the end. Bavruq nearly drowned Char but Char came back with forceful blows of his own, throwing Bavruq high into the air with a gust of wind. The prince landed with a sick thump but managed to roll to his feet and beat Char with a final icy blade into his shoulder. 

Bavruq had the best healers in the world managing his wounds each night, Wonwoo had only you and your will. Bavruq had years of training and luck on his side, but Wonwoo was in better shape after his last battle with Jao.

If he got hurt fighting Bavruq then you’d march down onto the field and kill Wonwoo yourself.

They shook hands at the center of the field and then the match was on.

Wonwoo sidestepped each blow, adapting without pause - using your own tricks against Bavruq. He maintained a healthy distance, plenty of room to escape and dodged the ice floes the older man attempted to crush him with. Wonwoo attacked faster and faster, summoning more fire, bigger flames that made the crowned tug on their robes and flee the first few rows of seating. 

Their muscles shined under the blazing sun, covered in sweat and blood from hours of fighting. Bavruq looked truly exhausted while Wonwoo collected a few scrapes and a limp from a failed evasion. 

And then something changed. The atmosphere crackled with static. The sun reached its peak and with his opponent weakened, Wonwoo struck.

A swift kick launched a huge fireball from his foot, a swell of heat surging across the field with terrifying speed. Then another and another, driving Bavruq back until a final explosion sent him rolling across the arena. 

Wonwoo’s hesitation is the only reason Bavruq rose to his feet once again. 

You couldn’t hear what they shouted to one another, the pounding blood in your ears deafening. The metal cup on your table covered in frost, contents frozen solid. Their elements clashed with enough force to rattle the arena but you stayed glued to the battle; refusing to blink. You wanted to intervene but if you did, then Bavruq won.

Wonwoo sliced his hand through the air, a razor thin whip of flame bursting forth snapped against Bavruq’s feet. He evaded once more by riding a wave around the edge of the arena. Bavruq had power but Wonwoo had stamina. Eventually, Wonwoo evaporated whatever water was left available, the wooden barrels across the arena completely empty when Bavruq attempted to pull more water from them. The prince was defenseless against the tsunami of flame that crashed down from above. 

When it dissipated, Bavruq was left cowering on the ground, hair singed and tan skin tinged pink from the heat. But he was alive when he shouldn’t be and for that he yielded.

The servants cheered first; from the high plazas behind the seats filled with nobles their voices echoed like an endless roar of thunder. Mingyu whistled from behind you, bellowing next to Han and Sami. Even the servants in the garb of other kingdoms shouted and clapped. There are more of them than there are nobles. Guards, including Aiko, punched the air with wide smiles.

You couldn’t hear any of it. You couldn’t breathe.

“I present our Champion, Captain Jeon of the Royal Guard,” your grandmother announced, beaming before she turned to you. 

You joined her at the edge of the balcony, shaking hands hidden beneath the long sleeves of your gown. Wonwoo looked up from where he stood, sweaty and bruised but smiling. 

“Will you accept this man as your husband?”

You whispered a short prayer to the spirits begging he’d forgive you some day and answered.

“No.”

His smile disappeared completely.

With square shoulders, you addressed the crowd. “I am Princess YN. First in line for the throne of the United Islands, and I will fight Captain Jeon for my own hand.”

Just like when Wonwoo announced his intent to compete, the arena settled into silence and then ruptured into chaos. Nobles, servants, and guards cried indignantly as you tilted your chin in defiance. Wonwoo stood frozen, eyes trained on you.

Your grandmother whisked you away to her private meeting chamber. No servants, no guards. No one. Only her quivering rage and your solid defiance locked away.

“What is the meaning of this?” your grandmother hissed.

“I will not be sold off like livestock to the highest bidder,” you sniffed. 

A maid came in with a tea tray but your grandmother shooed them away with a wave and they scurried back through the servant’s entrance with a squeak.

“Is that what you think this is? That man put his life on the line for you, endured the wrath of other kingdoms for the chance to marry you because he loves you. And how do you thank him? By throwing his effort back into his face?”

“Wonwoo proved himself to them, now I must as well. What do I look like if I let them force me into a marriage? I allowed the tournament but I will not allow them to think I’m weak.”

“And if Wonwoo beats you? Did you think of that?”

You scoffed at the idea. 

“Do not act so bold!” she chastised. The air in the room rustled with her anger. “He defeated some of the best fighters across the kingdoms. Well, one of them. Jao and Maoki couldn't fight their way out of a pillowcase but Bavruq is a respectable adversary.”

Anger and hurt swelled inside you. This had been your plan since after the stormy night in the garden, when Wonwoo asked you to marry him. You figured out a way to make an example of the suitors and fortify your place as heir apparent. Your grandmother had meddled, stuck her nose where it didn’t belong — albeit with good intentions. 

“You made a plan with him without me so I made a plan of my own.”

She threw her hands up and opened the window at the far side of the room. “Is that what this is about? You felt left out?” 

“If either of you just told me—”

“If you were implicated then the nobles would have been suspicious. World of good that is now. It looks like you sent Wonwoo into this competition with the intent to have him win and then forfeit.”

You joined her by the window. She had a point. But Wonwoo wouldn’t forfeit, his pride was too strong. And you would win. You’d beaten him at his best in the warehouse but anger hadn’t been on his side then; he’d also have the advantage of the daylight. But even without the boost of the moon you were confident. You had to be.

In the gardens below, families from across the kingdoms gathered, their conversations floating straight up to where you both listened in secret.

A sham! 

We’ve been made fools!

If she thinks she can beat him then she’s crazier than we all thought…

“I don’t agree with your methods,” she sighed. “But if you manage to win then it sends a very powerful message. Besides, they’ve never given your bending the respect it deserves. I just hope Wonwoo doesn’t decide to forfeit.”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I won’t have a coward for a husband.”

You did not visit Wonwoo that night. Perhaps for the best. He practically vibrated with annoyance, vision narrowed into a red haze. He fought, he bled and bruised, for you. Only for you to turn around and reject him so boldly. So publicly. In front of people who already looked down on him.

He didn’t understand; couldn’t. What was the point? To punish him for competing at all? 

One of Jao’s healers came and patched him up in silence, Mingyu standing guard. Neither man spoke while Wonwoo fumed silently. The candles littered about the room burned brighter from his mood, flickered widely from an invisible breeze as he tried to reign in his temper. 

The healer knitted a final wound, a deep cut on his arm from one of Bavruq’s ice knives sealing and blending with the other pink scars littering his body. Bavruq had been far more capable than Wonwoo’s previous opponents; ran Wonwoo ragged around the arena for hours. His muscles ached. Even breathing left the healed wound in his side from Maoki sore. 

A cup full of herbal tonic was pressed into his hand. He drank as the healer explained it would help his energy for the next day. Wonwoo downed the entire thing and the healer left him and Mingyu alone.

“Is she always so…” Wonwoo trailed off. The effects of the drink were already making him feel fuzzy around the edges.

“Confusing? Irritating? Hard headed?” Mingyu responded. “Yes.”

“One minute she tells me she loves me and next she says she doesn’t want to marry me.”

You wanted to marry him. Wonwoo knew you did. Or was he another brainless fool who fell into your web like the others; a pawn in your game to make a point.

“I don’t doubt she loves you but she won’t debase herself for you, or anyone.”

“But then why put me through this entire game?”

Mingyu leaned against the doorway. “I won’t pretend I understand her reasoning. Ever since we were kids she's done things her own way. If she couldn’t win a game, she used the rules against you to make sure winning felt a lot like losing.”

Wonwoo stared at the ceiling. The night sky stared back, hand painted silver constellations covering the entire ceiling from wall to wall. You had pointed out the ones you knew the previous nights. The Dragon, the Chained Spirit, the Warrior, the Lionturtle, the Earthshaker. His head pounded.

“The council sees her as something to be controlled,” Mingyu said. “We know they’re wrong but now she has a chance to show them and the other kingdoms she’s not. It has nothing to do with you.”

Wonwoo huffed and closed his eyes. It was much colder without you beneath the covers which was odd because as a firebender, nothing short of dropping him somewhere in the poles would have affected him. “Why must everything be so difficult?”

“You wanted to marry a queen. It comes with the job.”

Mingyu left after that.

Wonwoo sat in silence and realized he’d still marry you whether you beat him tomorrow or not.

Wonwoo entered the arena feeling simultaneously better and worse than the previous days. His body was well rested, the tonic from Jao’s healer giving him a good night's sleep. Though his new energy might’ve been from falling asleep at a reasonable hour since you were not in his bed asking to be kissed.

You waltzed in, head held high and back perfectly straight; chest bound in blue wrappings, pants the same color. There was no crown on your head or jewels on your fingers. There was no need for finery when every inch of you screamed royalty now that Wonwoo knew what to look for. You looked the exact same as that night in the warehouse, that first encounter that bound his fate to yours. His heart lurched.

You both faced each other in the center of the field, a foot of space between. Fire burned in your gaze. Wonwoo knew beating the others proved his worth to the nobles but this was more than that. This was you proving your ability to lead, proving no one could control you.

This time, you extended your hand first, and Wonwoo shook it.

“Good luck.”

“I won’t go easy on you just because I love you,” he said loud enough for the entire arena to hear. Your jaw dropped in shock. Even though his face heated at the declaration, your reaction made him want to say it again.

“Likewise.”

The official signaled the beginning of the match.

Wonwoo launched a stream of fire where you stood. You dived low, easily avoided it and returned the attack with more force, several massive jagged ice floes aimed straight for his head.

Fire. Water. Fire. Water. Red. Blue. Back and forth across the arena. The ground became a messy pattern of mud and scorch marks. Spectators watched the dance in awe, marveling at the ways your respective elements met and clashed with enough force to deafen them.

“That's all you got?” you goaded. Your clothes smoldered where one of his fire whips made contact, blue stained with ash, your hair singed at the ends.

Wonwoo looked like a drowned ice rat.

He chased you to the far end of the field, sending comet after comet after you but you evaded, skating away on a wave. Reaching a safe distance, you turned the wave against him. Wonwoo failed to clear it in time. Feet frozen in place, you released a torrent down onto him.

Wonwoo laid still on the ground when you finally stopped.

“Wonwoo?” you gasped and ran to him.

When you stood over him, he knocked your feet out from under you and rolled away.

Mud caked your arms and back. “Seriously?”

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” he called. 

The fighting picked back up again. 

He promised not to go easy on you and he’d keep the promise. Wonwoo knew you wouldn’t forgive him if he broke it. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t help you make a spectacle. 

Wonwoo cut your attack off your next attack with a swift lash of fire, a razor thin whip cleaving the wall of ice clean in half. 

The smell of ozone clouded the arena electricity jumping from his skin as he pulled it closer and closer. Your face hardened, preparing for the strike as Wonwoo thrusted his hand forward.

In the same confident show as before, you redirected the hit as if it was nothing.

The arena was silent. You and Wonwoo continued like no one was watching.

You pulled all the water in the arena into a massive fifty foot wave. It blocked out the sun and most spectators' view of the field. When you released it Wonwoo opened his mouth and breathed fire. The two unstoppable forces clashed and steam erupted, cloaking the entire battlefield.

You couldn’t master him any more than he could beat you. Even in the thick fog, he wasn’t scared. He heard your wet footsteps run around him somewhere behind and prepared for a snowball to his temple.

When you couldn’t beat them, you apparently fought dirt.

The air rushed from his lungs as you tackled Wonwoo around the waist and into the slick mud. 

“Oof,” he grunted.

You were laughing. “Did I hurt you again?”

“No, I’m used to it.”

“Good. I’d hate to injure my fiance before our wedding.”

He froze. And then the same laughter infecting you shook his body. He grabbed a fist full of mud and smashed it into your hair. “You had this planned from the beginning!” 

You gave an indignant shriek and pushed your mud hands against his face. “Maybe this will teach you not to make plans with my grandmother without consulting me!”

Wonwoo rolled, you beneath him, thrashing for release but he held fast; pinned your arms down and used all his weight to keep you where he wanted. “Yield.”

Apparently he didn’t have the grip he thought he had because the sweat covering his body froze, stinging against bare skin. You took the moment of distraction to roll back on top, pin his hands and freeze them in the mud.

“Really?” he grunted. He summoned heat into his hands and melted the icy cuffs but waited to make use of his freedom. He forgot all about it when he felt your laughter puff against his mouth.

Wonwoo’s world narrowed down to just you, like every time you pulled him into your tide.

“Yield,” you commanded. Wonwoo heard the smug satisfaction in your tone but also the giddiness.

“Never.”

You swooped down, kissed him once more. “Good.”

A harsh breeze cleared the cover of steam. Alerted by the noise, you sat up straight and Wonwoo tipped his head back, both of your eyes landing on the Queen watching from the overhang.

Wonwoo wanted to bring the steam back and hide away with you. The dumb smile wouldn’t leave his face, even under the weight of an audience.

“Since you both refuse to yield,” she announced dryly. “This match is a draw.”

You knelt across from Wonwoo as the sages recited the martial rights in monotone. The only thing that kept him from nodding off was your fingers tangling and untangling with his, the silver and gold fabric of your wedding robes obscuring the way your nails scratched over his palms. Your hands were cool and dry, his clammy with nerves. Not nerves to marry but nerves to be paraded around the palace for the rest of his life, having to smile at the nobles that insulted him and his wife under their breath. 

He’d marry you in every lifetime if he could.

Eventually, the sages finished their speech, snapping Wonwoo back to reality. You eyed him expectantly and leaned closer. Wonwoo knew he must’ve looked like an idiot, staring starry eyed as you kissed him gently and then pulled away to face the sages once more. You held his hand a little tighter.

The sage, clad in his own robes of navy and burgundy, read from a scroll. “Do you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of the United Islands, according to our laws and customs? Will you, in your power, cause law and justice and mercy to be executed in all judgments?”

“I will.”

The sage faced Wonwoo. “And do you swear to uphold and protect Her Most Regal Majesty? To never waiver in support of the crown and people of the United Islands?”

Wonwoo was thankful his lines were short in the ceremony. Between planning the wedding in only a few short days and being all but banned from seeing you between the end of the match in the arena and this morning, he wasn’t left with much mental space to memorize anything grand or impressive.

“I do,” Wonwoo said.

Smoothly, you rose to your feet and Wonwoo rushed to follow, hand clenched so tightly in yours he was afraid it hurt. 

“Presenting Her Majesty, YN, Queen of the United Islands. And His Royal Highness, Prince Wonwoo. Long may they reign.”

The marriage hall broke into cheers, his friends’ voices the loudest among them. Hoshi, Dokyeom, Seungcheol and his wife, Jeognhan and many others crowded amongst the pews, brushing elbows with royalty like they belonged.

Once again, he found courage in reminding himself just because he was in the palace didn’t mean he had to completely act like nobility.

Wonwoo grabbed you around the waist, ears deaf to the shocked gasp of onlookers as he pulled you into his chest and kissed you. Not a chaste peck or something gentle and fleeting. He channeled the passion and happiness flooding his heart into it. Wonwoo kissed you like a man kissed his new wife, not like a prince kissed his queen. 

You adapted quickly, tongue shy against his lower lip, far too suggestive but Wonwoo bit at the bait. He should've known that if he started the flame you’d fan it into an inferno. Hands surging into action, he pulled you tighter into his chest and slid his tongue against the sensitive side of yours to hear one of your precious moans.

Someone wolf whistled loud enough to remind Wonwoo he was, in fact, on the verge of groping his wife in public. He pulled back but it was you who refused to let go, only conceding when the hand in his hair met the metal of his new crown. 

You didn’t even have the shame to blush as you pulled away and faced your subjects, smiling proudly while Wonwoo tried to calm his racing heartbeat.

The reception occurred in the same ballroom as the night of the Spirits Festival but decorated with cascading white ice lilies and fire poppies, the chandeliers dripping with pearls and diamonds, and long banquet tables draped in embroidered tablecloths crowded with food and wine. Wonwoo didn’t like crowds but he loved you and if people were watching him dance with you through every song then let them. He spent too many dances at the edge of the floor tortured by the sight of you in another man’s arms to sit through another one.

“If you step on my foot one more time,” you warned but the threat was empty. You smiled too much.

Wonwoo pulled you even closer if it was possible, no space between your bodies as his hand curled tightly around the curve of your waist. “You’ll do what, Your Majesty?”

“I’ll…” you huffed. 

“Terrifying,” Wonwoo chuckled, sweeping you around the room.

“Where did you learn to dance like this anyway?”

Wonwoo recalled the incredibly awkward moments in his temporary accommodations with Mingyu and Sami teaching him the court dances. Han wasn’t invited for obvious reasons, like using the way Wonwoo led the taller man around the room while Sami provided instruction as black mail. 

“I’m a man of many talents.”

You didn’t buy it. “Last time we danced together I thought you’d drop me.”

“You don’t trust me?”

You nuzzled his jaw softly, lips leaving a trail until you reached his ear, damp breath sending goosebumps racing down his back. “I trust you with my life.”

It wasn’t a truth he took lightly. 

Before Wonwoo could respond, someone crashed into him from behind. 

Hoshi and Dokyeom were dancing with each other, nothing but uncoordinated limbs flailing in place as everyone chuckled. Most people laughed, a few stuck up nobles seemed to hate fun. The sidestepped the other couples following the unspoken choreography to stay close to you and Wonwoo.

“Great party,” Dokyeom grinned.

“If I knew you were the queen I would've given you a way nicer bottle of whiskey.”

“I wasn’t the queen when we met,” you laughed.

Wonwoo shook his head at his friends and led you away; he’d see them later. At that moment, he wanted you to himself. 

But the spirits had other plans. Every time he thought he had you both alone for a few moments, someone else popped up. They acted like koala sheep flocking to the trough. Attempted to surround you two at every chance. Luckily, you were apt at leading the dance and tugged him away from the most overzealous nobles already attempting to petition for funding and favors. When Wonwoo’s friends approached he didn’t feel guilty cutting the conversation short.

You only successfully spun you away from Belaor’s grumpy face to find Jao waiting for his own turn. His partner was old enough to be the old queen’s grandmother.

“I have a wager there will be an heir within the year,” Jao winked. “Don’t let me down.”

Wonwoo blinked and looked down to find you hiding in his lapel. 

“Jao is a very odd man.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “But a wonderful friend.”

Wonwoo managed one song completely uninterrupted, not that he enjoyed it much. He was too focused on eying anyone that came close, nearly snarling when looks didn’t warn them off fast enough.

“This party is dreadfully boring,” you whispered.

“You mean our wedding?”

“Our wedding was hours ago. I mean this party where the same men who beat up my husband a few days ago are drinking my wine and eating my food.”

You gazed pointedly at him and then the door. Oh.

“Are you planning to take revenge?” Wonwoo smirked.

“Maybe.”

“Less than a day as queen and you’re already trying to start a war.”

“Then I guess it’s time to take our leaves for the evening. I wouldn’t want to have an outburst.”

It felt like eternity before you finally untangled from the party and returned to your new apartment. It was bigger than your old rooms, big enough for more than two people with a vacant nursery and Wonwoo’s own private bedroom connected to yours through a door. You doubted he would appreciate the space. He seemed fond of keeping you close.

Han and Sami beamed from ear to ear as they readied you for bed, untied the silk ties of your wedding gown and plucked the heavy jewels out of your hair. 

“You might as well speak freely, you both think so loudly.”

Han burst. “Can Wonwoo introduce me to his friend?”

“Which one?”

“The one with nice lips, and muscular thighs. He was dancing with the other loud one.”

Dokyeom. From what Wonwoo told you, Han would eat him alive.

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“Everyone knows the way to a man is through his wife.”

You wondered just how your newly minted husband was fairing with his own servants at this moment. Someone undressing and dressing him, catering to his every fleeting desire. He probably was as red as the fire poppies down in the ballroom. 

“Wonwoo likes you two,” you said. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

“He has so many handsome friends,” Sami sighed.

“You got over your crush on Bavruq quickly.”

She thought for a moment before responding, “There’s something unattractive about a man cowering for his life.”

You didn’t tell her about the match you witnessed between Seungkwan and Hoshi the night you first spoke to Wonwoo when Hoshi got on his knees and begged.

“Are you nervous?” Han asked.

You met her gaze in the mirror. None of today felt real. 

“Honestly? It feels like we still have to sneak around the castle.”

“I knew there wasn’t a bird that morning!” Sami gasped, jaw dropping. 

Han rolled her eyes. “I already told you there wasn’t a bird in her room.”

“Whatever. Now you’re the queen and can do whatever you want.”

They tidied your dressing room and left you alone. When you re-entered your room you found it empty, the door connecting yours to Wonwoo’s firmly shut. Once you opened it then you two would be alone to do whatever you please. No one waiting around the corner to catch you, no more rumors of impropriety, no more sneaking around in the dark.

Just you and your husband.

You nearly sprinted.

His room resembled yours: massive bed, dark wood furniture, velvet curtains half obscuring the massive window on the opposite wall.

Wonwoo sat on the edge of the bed in sleeping clothes. The candle light jumped over his skin and made something in your chest squeeze. He held something in his lap, you couldn’t see from the angle as his hands fiddled with it.

You rested against the door jam and cleared your throat. 

He looked up, black hair flopping into his face. “What’s wrong?” 

“You are so far away.”

“I thought I was supposed to stay in here or something.”

“The rooms are more a formality than anything. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.”

“Thank spirits.” Wonwoo heaved a sigh of relief and came to stand in front of you. “I meant to give this to you earlier.”

He passed whatever he held to you. It took a second to figure out what it was but when you did your chest ached again. A glass ice lily shoot with white bell shaped petals so thin you could see through them, frozen in perfect bloom. The verdant green glass stem sat dainty between your fingertips. It was small and delicate, so realistic you could smell the sweet aroma tickling your senses.

“Where did you get this?”

He blushed, eyes on the figure resting in your hands. “I made it.”

“You made this?”

“Mingyu helped a little but… you said it was your favorite.”

It wasn’t much. Nothing like the grand metal works or massive jewels displayed around the palace. The piece of glass work wouldn’t stand out amongst the hundreds of expensive gifts you’d received for birthdays over the years. But Wonwoo made it for you. He took the time to listen and remember even if you didn’t recall ever telling him the information. There wasn’t a value to be assigned because that tiny glass flower was priceless.

You didn’t know what to say.

“Do you want to take a bath with me?”

He nodded mutely, allowing himself to be pulled through your bedroom and into your bathroom where a pool-like tub waited. You turned on the water and poured in soaps and oils until satisfied and then turned back to your waiting husband.

“Will you warm it for me?” you whispered.

He stepped around you, hands ghosting along your sides as he passed. One disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

“Not like that.”

Wonwoo stared at you quizzically. “This is how I heated it last time.”

“Last time.” You approached him slowly as if he was a frightened animal. When he didn’t move away, you untied the sash holding his shirt closed, pushing it from his shoulders. You kissed over his heart and plucked at the tie of his pants. And then Wonwoo was naked; naked and hard and looking like something out of a painting. “Last time you weren’t my husband and I couldn’t pull you into the water to join me like I wanted to.”

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint the queen,” he chuckled and sunk into the water. 

The sleeves of your nightgown floated down your shoulders, leaving you completely bare as it pooled around your feet. Wonwoo wanted to look, you saw it on his face; the strain in his eyes to stay at an appropriate level. But he was your husband now. And if he couldn’t look at you naked, who could?

You remained standing until his eyes fell from your face, filtered down to your chest, across your stomach, your core and legs. He drank you with heated looks that made you preen with pleasure. You wanted him to look at you like that forever.

He spread his legs in invitation and you took the space between them. You leaned back into him, thrilled by the press of his bare chest against your back. Like that morning you woke up in your bed with him. Now, you get to wake up to him every day.

An hour passed in cozy silence, only the crack of candle wicks and content sighs mingling together; occasionally a splash as you stretched for more comfort. Wonwoo couldn't stop pressing his mouth to your shoulder, rubbing his hands over your sides, tracing odd shapes in your stomach as the water soothed your tense muscles. It was perfect. He was perfect. Like the warm flicker of the candle light in the night, the toasty comfort of a fire during a cold day. He was perfect and he was yours. Forever.

With Wonwoo in the water, it never got cold. He pushed heat through his body and kept it perfectly warm. 

You showed off by making tiny figurines skitter along the surface: horses, dragons. You froze some in mid air and Wonwoo raised a hand to melt them with a lick of flame, placating your petulant frown with a kiss to your ear.

Sneakily, you placed your hand on his knee beneath the surface. It was innocent enough, you were already touching everywhere else. His knee was nothing compared to the soft pressure of his cock against your lower back but you were done waiting. You slowly dragged your nails over his leg, a fraction higher each time before descending again. If he caught on to your game he hadn’t shown it. Instead, Wonwoo leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, sighing in your ear. 

He didn’t initiate anything beyond gentle touches. Smoothed his hands down your arms, laced and unlaced his fingers between his, swiped your hair to the side and gently pecked the back of your neck.

You left his lap, swimming into the deeper end of the tub and submerging yourself beneath the surface. When you came back up for air, Wonwoo sat sprawled against the side of the tub, arms out at either side, washcloth clutched tightly in one hand.

Straddling his thighs, you dipped down for a kiss. “Wash me.”

He took his task seriously, scrubbing away all the powdery makeup and oil perfume until your skin felt fresh and clean. The rough washcloth stung your breasts but Wonwoo soothed the ache with his tongue, lapping away the bath water as your chin tipped back.

“You looked beautiful.”

Your shoulders itched closer to your ears as he sucked your nipple stiff. “I know. You told me.”

“Never hurts to tell you again.”

You opened your mouth to goad him again but he beat you to the punch with a kiss on your sternum. 

His cock grazed over your clit with each grind. You wanted it, wanted him; all of him. You didn’t care you were in a bathtub or that you didn’t really know much more beyond wanting inside you. You rose higher on your knees, titled your hips and… 

“Slow down,” Wonwoo warned, teeth firmly around your breast. He held himself in a tight grip, just below the tip and prevented you from taking any of him inside you.

“But—“

“Let me take care of you first.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” you whined. “I need you inside me.”

Hands squeezed your hips, halting any attempt to take him further. He flipped your positions, him standing in the deeper end of the bath, you pressed into the wall completely at his mercy.

“Wonwoo!” you protested, water splashing as you thrashed against him in a tantrum.

“Be patient.”

You snaked a hand around his cock beneath the water and gave a quick stroke. You remembered the noises he made last time, how he liked to be touched. If you pulled the right strings then maybe he’d let you feel all of him. If you got your mouth on him he’d crumble to whatever you wanted.

But he snatched your hand away and tangled your fingers through his. When you looked at his face he was already watching you with a half formed smile. The sight alone was enough to make your stomach flip.

You pulled a ball of water and dropped it over his head. 

“You’re gonna pay for that!”

“Oh, I’m soooo scared,” you cackled. 

He chased you around the tub, just a little too late to catch you. Screams and giggles and splashes echoed off the walls. When he finally managed to pin you to his chest, an ember in your own flared.

“Take me to bed.”

It was tricky moving from the bath to the bedroom. You were so consumed with groping him - his ass, his chest, his cock - that preventing an accidental tumble fell entirely on Wonwoo. Unfortunately, he needed to touch you as well. He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you and guiding you towards the door without looking.

He sandwiched you between his body and the door jam, the bed only feet away but too far. Fingertips glided over your damp skin as Wonwoo smoothed his hands down your sides and caressed your hips, his thigh wedging between your own for you to clench and grind against. His hands traced up and down your sides, driving you more mad with every pass. Wonwoo squeezed your breast, thumbs rolling your nipples until they were stiff enough to bend and latch his mouth on. 

You’d never tire of the contrast of his fingers against your skin, the sight of how your own breasts perfectly fit his hands, the feel of him touching you like he was made to.

You melted beneath his tongue, hands sinking in his wet hard and tugging with each gentle suckle. Arousal smeared between your thighs and you want him to touch you there too. His fingers or his mouth, you were wound so tight you didn’t care, anything to relieve the stifling heat in your blood. You’re wetter, han you could possibly need to be and yet he still wouldn’t take advantage of it just yet.

“Take me to bed,” you panted again, failing to instill the authoritative tone that came as second nature.

Apparently, it was enough for Wonwoo. He finally pulled you from the wall with that, tripping over his own with eager clumsiness. You followed in his wake, knees meeting the edge of the bed and pulling him down on top of you.

This much you’ve grown accustomed to; touching, caressing, stroking. A week ago you would’ve begged for the chance to have Wonwoo naked and so close. Insides coiled with a spark desperate to smolder into something greater but now, the more he touched you the less confident you felt. He knew what to do and you didn’t and it shouldn’t have ground against your already thin nerves but it did; for a split second you resented him.

Wonwoo picked up on your mood immediately. He raised up, hair tangled, cheeks stained and lips bruised from kissing. He looked like a dream. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, trying to pull him into another kiss to distract from the moment but he avoided it.

“Not nothing. Tell me.”

“I said I’m fine,” you bit.

You weren’t. And it wasn’t because Wonwoo had been with others that predated your knowledge of his existence. 

He moved further away, sat upright next to you on the bed with his hands firmly in his lap despite how much you did not like it. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“If you want me to go into my room and stay there the rest of the night I will. I’ll be pretty upset not spending the night with my wife but I’ll do it.”

Your head shook. “No, I don’t want that.”

“Then tell me what happened between now and the bath.”

“I…I just…” you made a frustrated noise. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Me either.”

You looked at the ceiling before grumbling, “Yes, you have.”

He had. You weren’t naive to what others experienced while you sat guarded away in the palace. The maids had sex, the other guards, the men you met from other kingdoms. It was you who was the odd one out. Thrusted into the deep in, swearing you could swim and now that you were here you floundered.

Wonwoo kept you afloat. 

He grabbed your hand, traced circles on your palm with his thumb as he spoke. “I’ve never had a wedding night, I’ve never been married, I’ve never been with someone I feel the way I do about you. I know it’s your first time but it’s my first time with you.”

“But you at least know what you’re doing. I have no idea.”

“‘Wow, Wonwoo. That’s so romantic, Wonwoo,’” he cooed in a poor imitation of your voice.

You huff an amused breath, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

“I– I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

The admission lifted a weight from your chest. You burrowed closer to your husband, suddenly aware of how naked you were.

“Do what feels good.”

“It all feels good.”

You didn’t have to look to know he’s pleased with that comment. 

“Lay back and let me make you feel good. Then you can boss me around.”

You pull back from hiding, scoffing in protest. “I don’t boss you around!”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

Wonwoo didn’t answer, too busy smiling into a kiss at your childish pout. His laughter sparked some of your own as you realized how ridiculous the entire thing was.

True to his word, he took the time to sink to his knees beside the bed, shoulders cloaked in your legs, face level with your center. He indulged you with sweet flutters of his mouth across your thighs then lower, over your entrance with teasing gentleness. Only when you’re close to pulling your hair out did his tongue part your folds to collect the wetness he coxed so easily without even really touching you.

You shivered from the combination of his tongue snaking across your clit and the first shallow thrust of a finger between your walls. 

“M-more,” you rasped.

One arm slung across your stomach, preventing you from bucking him off. He turned his head and sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh until a bruise formed.

Even if you felt out of your mind you were in good hands. Wonwoo would take care of it. He'd show you what to do, take your first time and make it something at the very least good. Even if it’s just you two putting your mouths on each other's sex until the sun rose.

The idea of having him back in your mouth sent a zing through your gut.

“Wonwoo?” you sighed.

He hummed into your clit, simple acknowledgment clenching your muscles tight from the vibration.

“I want…” you started but faltered under the stretch of another finger and a sloppy glide of his tongue.

He circled the swollen nub, groaning the way you squeezed his fingers so tight. He doesn’t stop. Not until your thighs snapped shut around his head, hips buck into his waiting mouth. You coiled around the sparks in your veins and let it rush up to greet you. He licks every single nerve to life until you nearly rip your own hair out. 

The candle flames jumped a little higher with every pitiful noise, the vulgar sound of his mouth worshipping your core. Wonwoo knew what he was doing when he gave you a third finger. More sloppy kisses to match. “Spirits—” you choke on a whimper. 

You clawed at whatever came in reach: his shoulders, his arms flex over your hips, the back of his head. He kept going; heavy licks of his tongue dragging you over the coals until a tidal wave washed that final break through your blood.

Wonwoo crawled over you, planted himself between your spread legs and waited. “Good?”

“Great,” you croaked, delirious.

When you finally opened your eyes, you nearly seized again.  His face was wet; chin, cheeks, lips covered in your arousal he rightfully earned. You fumbled for his face, bringing him back into a kiss. His cock laid flush against your center with a little more movement; a sensation you’ve rapidly grown accustomed to except now there’s nothing to stop you from having all of him. 

The itch to parade him around the palace like that, completely debauched and on display, tickled the back of your skull. Wonwoo would never agree but the idea of rubbing all those nobles’ noses in proof that you don’t care what they have to say about your husband sparked something in your gut; tightened the nerves in your neck like a hand would and maybe that’s something else Wonwoo can show you later.

Right now you wanted him in your mouth.

Wonwoo went where you directed, leaned back on his elbows in the pillows, body splayed across the sheets like a meal. His nudity only made you more aware of your own. The blushing tip of his cock shining in the light. It was a little different now than when you believed you’d only get one chance to touch him as bold and free as you wanted. But you took the challenge head on like everything else. 

If you messed up, Wonwoo was there to show you the way.

“Show me,” you commanded, cheeks flaming from nerves. “Show me how you like to…”

Wonwoo sat up and grabbed you, arms tangled between your bodies with your head on his shoulder.

“Hey!”

This time, he commanded you. “Watch.”

You do, eyes glued to the hand skimming down his belly, fingers traveling across the flat plane of his stomach, over his thighs. He teased himself as you gawked tongue tied. You stayed quiet as he gripped his cock and gave it a squeeze.

“Can I…”

His hand shone in the dim light, wet, and not from the sticky mess leaking from his cock. It’s the same hand he used to make you come, your arousal easing the friction of his thrusts. Your hand sunk down, fingers woven between his.

“You wanted to watch. Now, watch,” he hissed but made no move to swat you away.

He shaped nicely in your hand, really his hand but you focused on the contrast of your fingers between his. Wonwoo told you to watch but didn’t make any mention of refusing any of your own demands.  You swallowed, thighs rubbing together for some relief. 

The sensitive side of his neck became your newest victim, teeth scraping against the raised vein; a pretty bite mark evidence of your presence.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Even with only one experience, you’re confident as you shimmied down his body and kneeled at his side. His stomach caved with a few tentative licks, as you stroked him. Eventually his hand fell away and found new interest in tracing your spine. His fingers itched down your back, over the curve of your ass. You spread your legs a little wider, give him more room to touch you the way you both want.

You moaned around his cock as he fingered you again, a little firm, not as hesitant. You tasted and teased and catalogued every tiny grunt and curse to memory. When your jaw started to hurt your hand took over with a slick glide.

“Fuck, okay.” Wonwoo pulled you back up, rolled until you splayed beneath him.

You frowned. “I wasn’t done.”

“I almost was,” he sighed. 

His fingers were still buried inside you, a fact he reminded you of with a quick rush. You tingled from head to toe.

“Move your hand.”

The idea thrilled the life out of you; finally having him inside you where you knew he’d fit perfectly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You’re not gonna break me.”

“There’s a chance you’ll…” he trailed off. “If I finish inside you.”

“Wonwoo. I know how babies are made,” you snorted. “I took care of it.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t not want children with him. But at that very moment, the idea of learning to be a queen and a wife and a mother felt overwhelming. You wanted to enjoy your husband; and spirits knew there wouldn’t be much time for that with the full demands of running a kingdom on the horizon. After your honeymoon, you’d be lucky to have the energy to maintain a conversation with Wonwoo before bed.

You deflated, eyes closing. “I just… There are already hundreds of people sticking their noses into our marriage. I wanted to have you to myself. At least for a little while. But I want that. Eventually.”

“Me too.”

You melted right there, laid back down on the sheets and dragged him over you. Wonwoo molded to your shape, kissed you gently and pressed his crotch to yours, let you both soak in the heady contact for a moment before the head of his cock nestled at your entrance, and then he was inside you. 

It didn't hurt. But it certainly didn't feel good.

“Ah–” you squeaked, thighs protesting in discomfort.

“I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Wonwoo repeated it like a mantra, slowly retreating before pressing forward again. You’re stiff and awkward in the worst ways. It’ll pass. The unfamiliar stretch and stunted motions couldn’t last forever.

The worst of the discomfort faded, your hesitation leaving with it as your insides adjusted to his presence. You spread a little more, lifted your legs around his waist, and gave him leverage against your clit. Better. 

“Slower.”

Maybe you did enjoy bossing him around but Wonwoo listened. 

Another slower thrust knocked the stretch from better to great. Something about Wonwoo on top of you, inside you, suddenly the hottest thing in the universe. 

It felt new. More. Better. It was for the best that you never felt something as satisfying as him inside because if Wonwoo had you that morning in your room then the way things had to be done - him earning his place next to you and you earning yours on the throne - would’ve become completely ignorable; a blip on your consciousness. You’d lock him in away forever just to keep him in your bed, shun the world outside for a better one between the silken sheets with him.

“Wow.”

“Good?”

“So full,” you whispered in a daze. Your eyes rolled as he pulled your legs up a little higher, changing the angle and eliciting a real moan. “Wonwoo, please. Move.”

It’s a sad cadence at first. Your body protested the sudden intrusion again and again, but it felt good as the initial discomfort faded. Patience was never a strong suit but there was no other option. Each rut forward brought you closer to that heady glow you’ve associated with Wonwoo’s touch. Your nails left pink lines in their wake across his skin.

Your breath ripped raw in your throat with a new kind of contact, deeper. Harder. Wonwoo sucked the moan straight from the source, honing in on the enticing friction again and again.

“Touch yourself. Like this.” Wonwoo clumsily shoved your hand between your thighs, rubbed quick tight circles that made you tingly.

“Oh Wonwoo – yes, yes!” you keened. You thrashed against the bed as he latched on to your breast. Too much. Everything was too much and not enough and you couldn’t vocalize what you needed.

He spread your legs, tilted his hips to fuck you deeper; cock heavy in your walls. Wonwoo rolled his hips in smooth thrusts. A hand looped beneath the arch of your back, his other arm protecting your head from the head board. 

“Please,” you pleaded. Wonwoo heard but there’s nothing for him to do except emphasize his presence in between your walls and give you that final nudge over the cliff edge.

Wonwoo gasped, hips stammering into clumsier rhythm as you came around him with a kicking of your legs. Your vision went white for a second as your throat burned from the rough sound of his name. 

“I think ‘m…I’m—” he came in a choked breath. You took all of it greedily, ground down on him for more of the indescribable warmth flooding your insides until your hips protested. “Shit. O–oh fuck.”

You felt his lips move against your temple, curving around the syllables of your name as he rocked into you a few more times. You felt raw and sensitive but you took it; not ready for him to pull away just yet.

Cum leaked out of you, slipped down your ass and pooled in the bed sheets. Wonwoo rocked into you few more times without the same strain as before. Each subtle press spread more of his mess. You didn’t mind.

“Was that,” he panted, “up to your standard, Your Majesty?”

“When I can think again, I’m going to freeze you to the headboard.”

He lit up with pride, rubbed his cheek against yours while you both calmed down.

When he finally pulled away you whined. Empty. Horribly empty where he fit so perfectly. You don’t have the energy to demand he fix it, you don’t have the energy to do much at all.

Soreness already filtered into your lower body; back, hips, thighs all ached from being twisted in half beneath your husband for however long. Wonwoo rolled you onto your front, pushed your arms and legs from beneath you until your chest lay flat against the bed. The soft sheets soothed your sensitive nipples while Wonwoo’s hands warmed your back.

Your body responded to his proximity, aroused even through the heavy swirl of exhaustion. Wonwoo ignored the squeeze of your thighs. His hands firm, he moved from your shoulders to your lower back precise fingers untangling deep knots as your thoughts drifted into perfect nothing.

“Good?”

You nodded dumbly.

He reached your ass, large hands palming the soft flesh. You tried not to give it; to let him touch you with innocent curiosity. Wonwoo was anything but as he dragged his teeth over the curve of your ass and made you shiver.

His thumb brushed your entrance, barely dipped inside. “Sensitive?”

You shuddered and nodded again, more aware. There’s a weird satisfaction to the used and stretched feeling, the fact Wonwoo did it to you. That he might do it again.

“Want me to stop?” He asked. This time he dipped two fingers inside and crooked them softly.

“No.” Never.

“Good girl.”

Your lungs seized at the praise, wavering slightly. He pulled away, dragged his fingers through the mess on your inner thigh and sheather them back inside you. On reflex, your legs spread wider to accommodate.

A million thoughts floated through Wonwoo’s brain, none seemed to stick for very long as he focused on you. 

How many nights had you healed him in the dark? Erased every injury you could find and soothe away the ache of his muscles? But no one stopped to take care of you. He would now though. 

More heat flooded into his hands as he continued to knead your inner thighs, focusing on the sore muscles. You melted like wax beneath a flame. All he meant was an innocent massage but the smear of his cum and your arousal mesmerized him as he rubbed it into your skin. It felt right; the mess covering your most sensitive areas looked like it belonged there. He tried not to overwhelm you with all the horribly inappropriate things he wanted, mainly to feel you come for him again while he forced his cum deeper into you.

Wonwoo watched as more of it leaked out of your used hole. He collected it on the pads of his fingers and pressed it back where it belonged but each time he did, your inner muscles clenched and pushed it right back out. He knew you wouldn’t get pregnant. He knew that no matter how much of himself he gave you, it wouldn’t take. Not tonight. Not for a long time while you both enjoyed just each other for the first time. But he’d never had sex with the intention of getting his partner pregnant and now that he technically was supposed to, he couldn’t think of anything else.

You with a swollen belly, still bossing the entire kingdom around. Pregnant and radiant as you knocked someone councilman into place. An instinctual part of him roared to life at the fantasy. The nobles would know. Everyone would know the child you carried was his; that Wonwoo was yours and you were his.

But that was for later. At that moment, you rocked back into his hand like you’d die if he didn’t feel you. He rose on his knees behind you, pulled you up on your own but kept your front tight against the sheets as he bent at the waist and nipped your shoulder.

“Want you,” you whimpered.

His cock was still sticky with combined arousal and cum but hard as he ran the tip through your folds.“Like this?”

With your face buried in your arms you nodded, pressed back into his cock and took the first inch with a sigh of relief.

“Gonna be deep.”

“I want it deep.”

Like anything you want, he gave it to you. 

You pulsed around him. His eyes threatened to roll back but he kept them open, watching you take every inch with rapt attention before pulling back and starting again. The room swelled with heat, the scent of sex heavy in the air. dirty. The queen on her knees for her husband, begging him in choked breathes to fuck her hard and deep. 

“F-fuck.”

Even if he couldn’t see the way you stretched around his cock to accommodate, he could hear the wet slaps of his thighs against your ass, feel the contact of your body against his, the perfect curve of your hips in his hands.

“Okay?”

“So…full…” you heaved. “More.”

He needed you closer; needed to feel you on every part of him. He hinged at the hips, chest hot against your back, teeth at your neck. You’ll come again, Wonwoo made sure of it. He doesn’t have enough energy to fuck with the vigor the sight of you on your hands and knees incites. 

“So fucking good,” he moaned in your ear, fingers maneuvering to pet your clit with enough pressure to make you keen. Another night, when he isn’t fighting just to stay awake long enough to satisfy you both, he’ll dig into your praise kink. 

You’re both exhausted, clinging on to wakefulness with white knuckled grips because it’s your wedding night and the first time Wonwoo didn’t have to think about all the things he wanted to do to you. He could just do them.

“Harder,” you whispered greedily.

There was a moment's hesitation but he trusted you to tell him exactly what you needed. Wonwoo anchored himself with a grip on the headboard, fucking your next command into a shrill moan; so much force you both scrambled for some leverage but refused to stop. A few rough swipes of his hand and you come with breathy gasps like you’re drowning.

Wonwoo chased his own orgasm, spurred by the image of your pussy flooded with even more of his cum. It’s the most painful orgasm of his life, pulses hot and tight in the pit of his stomach like a gut punch. He faltered into a stunted rhythm while you clawed at the sheets.

You took it perfectly. 

You collapsed against the bed, Wonwoo following to hold you tight to his side. This time the dead weight consumed him completely, trapping you in a tangle of his arms. There is much he could do but rest his lips against your damp hair and enjoy the silence.

“I love you.” The admission was more breath than words but his heart clenched all the same.

“Love you too.”

“How does it feel to defile the queen?” You laughed without real bite. 

“Gimme a few hours. I’ll do it again.”

Your only response was a hum and a kiss on his chest.

In the early hours of the morning, when the sky shifted from black to pale grey to orange, you woke Wonwoo with wandering hands followed by drowsy kisses. He didn’t stop you as you mounted his thighs and slipped his half hard length inside you.

“Good morning.” Your rough voice was hushed.

Most of his brain remained dedicated to sleep as you rocked over his lap but that didn’t mean he couldn’t savor the silky wet heat around him so early, the gentle squeeze of your cunt as you ground lazily against him, cooing sleepy noises in his ear. 

“Seems like it.”

After you both finished, he dragged you from the bed into the bath, heated the water with his own body. You washed him, and he watched through wet eyelashes as you healed the red streaks of your nails from the night before. At some point he fell asleep. When he wakes, you’re tracing shapes against his chest.

It still didn’t feel real. Everytime he woke it felt like you’d dissolve, this entire ordeal some wild dream only possible in his head when he slept. But no. You were real. You were real and there with a sleepy smile and half closed eyes as he nuzzled your cheek. His wife. His queen. His love.

“What are your plans today?” He asked, kissing your cheek while waiting for a response.

“I’m supposed to attend a council meeting this afternoon.”

Barely a full day after your wedding and there was work to do. Wonwoo dreaded when his duties as prince started.

“Is it important?” 

Your fingers, pruned from so long in the water, stroked his neck. “Depends what you’re offering.”

“There’s a shop in the Middle District with really good waffles…”

“I like waffles.” You yawned against his throat, nuzzling further into the warmth there. “If we go now we can make it through the Noble’s Quarter before everyone wakes up.”

“How do you plan to get back?”

“It’s our honeymoon. We can worry about that later.”

You never made it to the Middle District. You and Wonwoo barely made it to the bed before your limbs tangled together and you both fell asleep.

The next time Wonwoo woke you up it was to eat the waffles he asked Han to bring from the kitchen. 

Four and a half years later…

The afternoon sun warmed your face, the breeze pleasant and floral. A cold winter finally broke into a pleasant spring, the gardens full of sounds; birds, cicada frogs, palace guests.

You soaked it all in with your eyes closed.

Wonwoo continued to read, hand resting on your stomach, thumb rubbing soothing circles. “The rabbit hopped further into the forest until he came to an open space. There was a woman busy picking lettuce. She put everything she picked into her apron. She looked up and saw the rabbit with his basket.”

“I don’t think it can hear you,” you smile.

He took one of your hands and nipped at your fingers. “Nesa’s favorite story is the frog one I read all the time when you were pregnant with her.”

“I think that has more to do with the fact you and Mingyu taught her how to catch frogs the second she could leave the nursery.”

“Because she loves frogs.”

“Whatever you say dear.”

Wonwoo opened the book back to his page and started reading again. He didn’t get far before Sami chased your daughter through the gardens as she raced to you and Wonwoo.

“Papa! Papa!”

Even though she called for her father, Nesa buried her face in the skirt of your dress. You bent to kiss her hair; overly difficult given the baby growing inside you and its habit of crushing your bladder and lungs simultaneously. Nesa jumped into Wonwoo’s lap once you let her go.

“Why do you smell like smoke?” he asked.

Sami swallowed. “The princess set the bushes on fire.”

You and Wonwoo froze. “She did what?”

“She was playing with the gardener's son and…set it on fire.”

“She set it on fire?”

“Yes.”

Nesa tugged at your sleeve. “Can I go play with Jun now?”

Wonwoo looked positively thrilled. Spirits help you.

“Yes, but no more fires.”

“But—“ she argued. She looked so much like her father.

“No buts,” Wonwoo warned. She listened to him better than you anyway. “Not until Papa teaches you how to control it.”

“Fine,” Nesa huffed, squirming out of his hold and took off towards the archway, Sami on her trail.

“We’ve raised an arsonist.”

“She got your temper,” Wonwoo jabbed, dropping a kiss to your cheekbone.

“I’ll show you a temper!”

He snickered into your hair, turning you to face him for a quick peck. “You’re six months pregnant.”

“And I can still freeze you to a wall,” you sniffed. It was difficult to be mad with how doting he was, fatherhood fitting him perfectly. 

“She’s gonna set her nursery on fire the next time we try to feed her peas.”

“She’ll probably set it on fire for fun just like her father.”

The turtle ducks splashed in the pond a few feet away.

“Your grandmother told me about how you threw Mingyu in the pond when you were little.”

“First of all, Mingyu deserved it.” You snagged a cookie from the tray. “Someone else might end up in the pond if he keeps bothering me.”

You’d take revenge later, in the privacy of your shared room. He looked better in icy cuffs than he did completely naked.

“I wonder where Nesa got her temper from,” Wonwoo pretended to ponder. His hand still hadn’t left your swollen belly.

“Shut up, hothead. Finish the story.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Iya’s favorite animal turned out to be rabbits. Wonwoo took his win without an ounce of humbleness.

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I have no idea what he's saying but I agree

Kind of a big ask…but I am a sucker for 5+1 fics. Are you able to write something from Joel’s perspective about the five times he almost kisses reader and the time he finally does?

AN | I’ve never done one of these before and I hope it’s okay! It was so fun to write! 🥰 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The First Time

The first time Joel almost kissed you happened to be the same night he finally met you. Yeah, it wasn’t exactly anything you had bargained for. 

You’d been drinking for a little while with your girlfriends and he’d walked into the bar and a few beers with his brother Tommy. He was new to Jackson, you knew that much, but also devilish and ridiculously handsome. 

But it definitely wasn’t love at first sight…the complete opposite honestly. He’d caught your eye right away as you had his. You’d met him and seen him in passing but - unfortunately - it hac never been more than that. 

“Hey,” it was liquid courage talking…it had to be. Normally you wouldn’t be so bold and brash. In your previous life you wouldn't have dreamed of doing this.

Joel looked at you and raised an eyebrow, making a small sound of acknowledgment before turning back to Tommy. The younger Miller, meanwhile, gave you a sweet smile and greeting. He was always kind….unlike his brother apparently. 

But in your wine-tipsy state you weren't talking no for an answer, "I said hello, Joel Miller. You're not going to say anything?"

"Hello," his lips pulled into a line as he looked you over. You couldn't tell if he hated you or wanted to devour you, "is there anything else I can do for you?"

And oh. There was just a hint of a southern drawl behind his words and you decided that you very much liked him. But that was probably just the alcohol talking. Right? Right.

"Oh, there's a few things I can think of," you said softly as you attempted to wink at him, "being less of a dick would be a start."

Tommy snorted in amusement as Joel glowered at him.

"Alright," Joel shook his head before sighing heavily. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist before gently pulling away from the table, "I think it's time for you to get home. You've had enough to drink."

“I’ve barely had anything,” you beamed at him, cheeks warm and eyes wistful, “I can handle another drink! Oh wait - dance with me!”

“I am not letting you have another drink or dancing,” he hated to admit that you were adorable even when you were tipsy, “you’re going home.”

“Only if you come with me,” you were definitely going to hate yourself in the morning when this all came back to you. 

“I am taking you home,” he agreed, looking towards your friends and gesturing that he was taking you out of the bar. They seemed to understand what was going on, wicked little smiles on their faces, “but I am not staying.”

“You’re so boring,” and yet you were following his lead, at his side like a puppy.

“And you’re not sober,” he reminded you, following your instructions to get back to your place. You fell into silence, studying each bit of him, wanting to get to know him as best as possible. You were home much more quickly than you would have liked. He turned to you and appraised you for a moment, “are you okay to get inside?”

“Yes,” your answer came out as a whisper as you looked at him with wide, soft eyes. You noticed the way his breath hitched in his throat and his hand twitched at his side. What was invisible to you was the inner turmoil that had surfaced within him as you looked at him, “Joel?”

He remained silent for a moment before bringing his hand to your face and brushing his knuckles along your cheek. You gasped lightly in surprise at the tender gesture but remained silent otherwise. It took everything within yourself not to lean into his touch. Your entire body was calling out for his touch and there was nothing you desired more than to kiss him. 

And if you weren’t mistaken, you were sure that he wanted to kiss you as well. He leaned in ever so slightly and you prepared yourself for it but then - he pulled back. 

“I can’t,” you weren’t sure if he wasn’t talking to himself or to you. You already missed the warm touch of his hand, “you’re not sober. And I’m not…I can’t.”

You swallowed thickly but nodded nonetheless taking a step closer to your front door. You offered a weak little smile in return and before disappearing inside. You watched him through the peephole; it was a while before he left.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Second Time

The second time Joel Miller kissed you was after you were injured on patrol. 

It was a few months after he’d moved to Jackson and established a life for himself and Ellie. And ended up in a close knit friendship with you; not that you were complaining. You were just as drawn to him as he was you. 

You’d been out on patrol with Matthew when it happened. It wasn’t even anything horrible and the way you’d gotten injured was…self-inflicted. Basically you’d rolled and twisted your ankle and scraped up your knee as you tried to follow a bunny you’d seen. Yeah, alright, even saying it out loud like that made it sound terrible.

You’d seen the cute bunny and couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t like there was anything else happening and Matthew was boring company - when he wasn’t trying to get in your pants - so you took the opportunity to see the bunny. But you’d slipped and list your footing and took a tumble you hadn’t quite expected. 

The look on Joel’s face when you had returned seemed like he was ready to commit murder to anyone who had done this to you. Oh, he was gonna love hearing that it was your fault.

“What happened?” he sounded so upset that it almost made your heart ache. He stopped in front of you, hands finding your face as he looked you over, “you’re bleeding. You’re hurt.”

“I-I didn’t,” you found it hard to focus on anything as you looked into those big brown eyes of his, “nothing happened…”

His gaze shifted to your swollen ankle and bloody knee.

“Okay nothing that anyone else did to me happened,” you laughed nervously, hoping to alleviate his worry, “I, ugh, itrippedandfell.”

“Pardon?”

“Joel, fuck,” you groaned lightly, “I saw a bunny and got off my horse and tripped and fell.”

And…now he was laughing. You pouted at him and that caused him to try and hold down his giggles. But at the same time…it felt good to see him relax and not lose his mind over you. 

“You are…” he trailed off as he tenderly wiped some dirt off your face. But when he was done he didn’t move his hand away. Instead he leaned in closely and you were positive that this was the time he was going to kiss. The tension had been building up for some time now and you kept wondering when it was going to break, “something else.”

“So are you,” you didn’t back away but the megawatt smile on his face was worth it. And if you leaned in even the slightest bit more, you could have kissed him. Your lips would have brushed up against his, “Joel Miller.”

And you wanted to kiss him and you wanted him to kiss you. To want to kiss you. Every fiber of your being was humming with energy. And just when you thought he was about to do it, slowly crouched down to look at your leg. 

“We need to get this cleaned up,” his voice sounded thick as you almost sighed in exasperation, “and get your ankle elevated and iced.”

“Yeah,” were you bad at reading the signs or was he just avoiding it all together, “good idea.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Third Time

The third time that Joel Miller almost kissed you was when you were in his house, helping him take of a very sick Ellie. You loved the kid as much as you had fallen for the man himself, and you would have done anything for either of them. 

You were in the kitchen, throwing together some soup and singing along to the record you had playing. It was simple moments like this that made life feel so utterly normal and wonderful; moments that made life worth fighting for. 

“Hey,” his voice was soft as he tried not to startle you. As soon as you heard him you turned around and gave him that smile that had started to make him turn into jelly.

“Hey,” you tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, “how’s Ellie Bean doing?”

“Feeling a little better,” he said and you related slightly, “she’s still a little warm but she’s sleeping now.”

“Good,” you continued chopping some vegetables for the soup you were putting together, “hopefully she’ll have an appetite when she wakes up. I’m making soup…obviously.”

“It smells delicious,” he admitted as he looked over your shoulder and into the pot. You stilled momentarily as you felt him behind you, his warmth and delicious smell overwhelming your senses.

"Family recipe," you tried to keep calm, "my grandma used to make it whenever anyone got sick. She always claimed it cured you right away."

"Did it?" There was a bemused little smile on his face as he leaned against the counter. He stole a piece of carrot and popped it into his mouth to which you playfully huffed.

"No," you grinned, "but no one ever told her that. And it's still delicious. Wanna help me make some bread?"

"Whatever you want, I am at your disposal," he winked and you wanted to perish a little bit, "just have to say the word."

It turned out that Joel wasn't too bad of a helper at all. He listened to your instructions with rapt attention and then delivered on making delicious bread. It was so easy and fun with him that it had your heart yearning for this bit of domesticity all the time.

"I have something to ask you," Joel took the bread out of the oven and set it down to cool. Your heart skipped a few beats before you nodded at him to go on. First he walked over to the record player and switched it to a different record, "dance with me?"

Well. Joel Miller asking you to dance definitely wasn't on your bingo card. But you weren't about to turn him down either.

"Yes," you whispered as he came back over to you, holding out his hand. You offered him yours in return and he wasted no time in taking it and pulling you into his arms. 

You almost instantly decided that his arms might have been your favorite place in the world. His touch was gentle as the two of you stayed to the music and you laid your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be lulled by the steady beating of his heart.

"Joel?" After a while you whispered his name and he pulled back, watching you with curious eyes. You swallowed the lump in your throat, all words suddenly lost.

Joel seemed to know what you were saying and leaned in closely, so close to kissing you once again. You were ready to jump for joy because surely this was the time he actually did it. 

You closed your eyes and waited and just when you thought he was about to do it, "hey! Whatever you're making smells delicious."

Both of you groaned slightly when you looked over and saw a very tired but happy looking Ellie in the doorway, bundled in a large blanket. 

"Hey Ellie Bean," you tried to make the disappointment in your voice at yet again not getting by him, "its good to see you up. We made some soup and bread. Hope you're hungry!"

"Starving," she grinned; unfortunately Joel felt the same way. As did you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Fourth Time

The fourth time Joel Miller almost kissed you was the same night he became your savior. 

You'd gone out with your girlfriends and had some drinks. You weren't drunk, that was never your style, but it was evident that you'd had a few drinks. But you were with your friends and dancing and having a good time.

You felt safe and everything seemed fine. Joel was even in another part of the bar, out with a few with a few of the guys, unbeknownst to you. 

It wasn't that he was keeping an eye on you but…for his own sanity he was keeping a bit of an eye on you. He just wanted to know you were safe, especially when your guard might have been a little lower than normal.

And he was glad that he had. Because as he watched you dance with your friends he saw the man walk over to you. Joel stayed back for a moment to see if maybe you knew him or something. But when he leaned in and you almost instantly recoiled, a frown on your features, he knew something was wrong.

Joel wasn't about to let that happen. He was on his feet and storming over almost immediately and was grabbing the man's collar to pull him away. Anyone could have sensed what was going on. The relief on your face was palpable as you looked back at Joel. He gave you a nod before dragging the man outside. 

"What the fuck did you think you were doing in there?" His voice was low and dangerous as the man shook with nerves. He knew exactly who Joel was, "answer me!"

"N-nothing-"

"I don't believe you," Joel whispered, "and I don't think you do either. Don't ever do that again. And don't ever let me see you again."

"Sorry! I didn't know she was your girl-"

"It doesn't matter if she is or isn't," oh yeah, he was angry now, "don't ever do that to any woman - anyone - ever again."

"I said I was sorry-" and the next thing you heard was the sound of a loud cracking sound followed by some pathetic whimpering.

"Sorry isn't good enough," Joel pushed the man away and he stumbled backwards, clutching at his face, "don't let me see you again."

He ran away without another word, leaving you staring wordlessly at Joel. You couldn't deny that while your heart was racing with anxious nerves, you were feeling a type of way at how protective he was.

"You shouldn't be out here," he slowly turned around, a worried expression on his face. You could see that his hand seemed to be bothering him, "did he do anything?"

"He didn't get a chance to," you whispered as you stepped closer to him, the tension thick but the anticipation so delicious, "thank you."

"You weren't supposed to see that either," he kept his eyes on yours as if he expected you to say something yes. To yell at him or…anything, "I probably shouldn't have done that."

"You did that for me," it wasn't a question, a simple statement instead. He swallowed thickly before nodding. You were in front of him now and reached for his hand, gingerly examining the bruising that was blossoming across his knuckles, "oh. You're hurt."

"It's nothing-"

"It's not nothing," you brushed your thumb across the back of his hand as you looked at him with soft eyes. You were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it, "let me take care of you. Please?"

His breath hitched and he looked at you in wonder. How did he get so lucky as to win your affections? Something so good and pure shouldn't have to deal with something so broken. But he wasn't broken. Not to you.

Joel took his injured hand and lifted it up, putting on your face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. Your lips pulled into a small smile as you inched closer, every part of you screaming for him to finally kiss you. 

He leaned in too - he wanted this.

And then you heard the sound of your name being called by your girlfriends as they stumbled out of the bar to make sure you were okay. The two of you pulled apart quickly, looking at each other like children that had been caught being naughty. 

You cleared your throat before pointing over your shoulder, "I, umm…I should go."

"Yes," he agreed softly.

"Put some ice on your hand, okay? I'll come by in the morning to take a look at it."

"You don't have to-"

"It wasn’t a question, Miller," you grinned, "it's a statement. So - see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning, sweetheart."

Once again so close, but so far.

-─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Fifth Time

The fifth time Joel Miller almost kissed you, he was positive it would happen. The universe could only keep pulling you apart for so long, right? Eventually it would have to give…or so he hoped.

It was your birthday and what better time to have a little kiss, right? The man had it all planned out. Like he was going to kiss you and put his heart out to you. Yes, it was scary and daunting and in some ways he would have rather dealt with clickers but he was going to do it. You were worth the risk.

So he planned this whole party for you; a big bash filled with lots of food, silly party games, and lots of friends. It was the biggest birthday party you'd ever had and it was never something you'd imagined having again.

But Joel wanted to celebrate you and make sure you knew how loved you were. It had been a complete surprise when Ellie had lured you to their home under the guise of needing help with schoolwork. You'd fallen for it easily but the shocked look on your face as you walked through the door had been worth it. Your eyes always seemed to find Joel and it was like there was no one else, only the two of you.

It took a while for the two of you to make your way to each other, but you finally managed to get a moment alone outside.

"Thank you for all of this," you tried to blink back the tears of emotion that had welled up, "this was so sweet of you."

"It was nothing," he tried to play it off as you just smiled at him. You reached up and brushed a few rogue curls off his forehead. The gesture was enough to make him practically vibrate with energy, "happy birthday, sweetheart."

The two of you looked at each other wordlessly, an unspoken understanding flowing between the two of you. This time, everything else be damned, you were going to kiss him. 

Joel gently cradled your face in his hands and leaned in. You could feel his warm breath fanning across your face, his lips almost touching yours-

"Hey!" Joel audibly groaned as Tommy poked his head out of the house, "let's do cake now!"

Joel audibly groaned, cursing under his breath at his younger brother. He pulled back and you looked at him sheepishly before shrugging. You quickly ducked inside before he could say anything else. You really just wanted to kiss him too.

Joel ran a hand over his tired face. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him something. But either way - universe be damned. He was going to kiss someday.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And Finally

When Joel Miller finally - finally - kissed you, you'd all but given up on anything happening between the two of you. Part of you, the very disappointed part of you, thought that the universe might just want you to be friends.

But then it happened.

It was at a wedding in the spring. At first you'd thought it was odd when people were still having weddings in this day and age. Then you realized why people did it - it was a sense of normalcy, of life going on, and was still something special.

So there you were, celebrating Anna and Nathan's wedding. And you were having fun, despite what you'd initially thought. You'd gone with Joel and Ellie, and it was definitely not a date…despite how much you wanted it to be.

You were on the dance floor with some of your girlfriends when the beautiful bride decided to toss the bouquet. Antiquated tradition? Yes. Still tons of fun? Also yes.

The only surprising thing was when you caught the pretty flowers, easily and effortlessly. You made a small sound of surprise and when you looked up you immediately caught Joel's eye. Because of course you did. Of course.

Joel's expression turned incredulous as a smile tugged up the corner of his mouth. Your face turned so warm that you forced yourself to look away. 

Eventually the excitement died down and you stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. It wasn't long before you heard his telltale footsteps making their way over to you. 

You turned around and smiled softly at him. He looked ridiculously handsome and it only served to make your heart ache, but in a happy way, "hi."

"Hi," he smiled back at you. And then it happened - finally! 

He took your face in his large, soft hands and didn't hesitate to kiss you. It took you a moment to catch up with what was happening but when you did, you kissed him right back, settling your hands on his hips.

Kissing Joel Miller felt so natural and easy; like you'd been doing this for years. You hoped you'd be doing it for many years to come.

Joel only pulled away, reluctantly still, when you both needed a moment to breathe. You looked at each for a moment before sharing a soft giggle. 

"Finally," you beamed at him and he practically melted, "had to wait long enough for that."

"I hope it was worth it," he touched your cheek tenderly.

"Absolutely."

"Good," and then he kissed you again, "because I plan on doing that a lot more."

"I hope that means forever," and yeah. You were kinda, sorta, definitely in love with him.

"Forever is perfect."

Can't stop looking at this

I’m literally so down bad for haechan it’s 😧😫😵‍💫

---

So cuteeee

pairing. chenle x shy!reader

synopsis. the one where your affection-starved boyfriend keeps asking you for kisses

tags. established relationship, purely fluff, no specific prns used for reader, lmk if anything was missed :D

wc. 0.8k

notes. this is heavily self-indulgent (again) and i have no excuses. why can't all men just be chenle im so srs 😞😞 also can we talk about the dreamies love me right stage like it was SO good (i am still here it is my roman empire),, anw likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

꒰ m.list ꒱

“babe, kiss please.”

chenle’s voice is light and teasing, as though the request is the most natural thing in the world. his lips are already puckered, his chin tilted upward just enough to let you know he’s fully expecting to get his way. his arms are sprawled comfortably on the couch, legs stretched out, one sock-clad foot nudging yours beneath the blanket draped over both of you.

you glance at him, already feeling the warmth creeping up your neck. his confidence is unshakable, and it’s maddening how he knows you so well—knows you’d never outright deny him, especially when he’s in one of these moods.

“but le,” you stammer, your voice slightly higher than usual, “that’s the tenth one today.”

your face is already flushed, the heat blooming across your cheeks as you avoid his gaze. you fiddle with the hem of the blanket, trying to appear unaffected, but the small, traitorous quiver in your voice gives you away.

“no one told you to keep count, baby,” he replies smoothly, his lips quirking into a grin that deepens the dimple on his left cheek.

“i know, but…” you trail off, words slipping away as he leans closer, his eyes locked on yours with that mischievous spark that always sets your heart racing.

“kiss?”

his voice is softer now, more of a coax than a command. the single word lingers between you, playful and persistent, as if daring you to resist. his proximity is overwhelming, the faint scent of his cologne that vaguely reminds you of fresh laundry mixing with the warmth radiating from his skin.

you shift slightly, trying to steady your breath, but the couch feels impossibly small. “le,” you murmur, barely audible, and your eyes flit nervously to the muted television.

he tilts his head, his dark eyes wide with mock curiosity. “hmm?”

the late afternoon sunlight streams through the windows, casting soft, golden patterns on the walls. outside, birds chirp faintly, their song weaving into the cozy stillness of the room. the scene is peaceful, but the fluttering in your chest is anything but.

“i just think…” you pause, your fingers curling tightly around the edge of the blanket. his presence is so close, so consuming, that forming coherent sentences feels like a monumental task. “i just think you’re doing this on purpose.”

his grin spreads wider, and there’s a twinkle in his eye that confirms your suspicions. “maybe i am,” he says, his voice low and lilting. his hand drapes casually over the back of the couch, fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. “but what are you going to do about it?”

you puff your cheeks slightly in frustration, your lips pressing into a thin line. “you’re impossible,” you mutter, though your tone lacks any real bite.

“and you’re adorable,” he counters effortlessly, his teasing edge softening into something sweeter. his gaze lingers on your face, taking in every shy glance and nervous fidget.

the quiet stretches between you again, and for a moment, all you can hear is the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. the weight of his attention feels heavy yet comforting, like a blanket wrapping around you.

“hey.”

you glance up at him hesitantly, and he takes the opportunity to tilt his head slightly, his expression now devoid of the teasing smirk. “you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable,” he says, his tone sincere in nature.

the sudden shift in his demeanor catches you off guard, and your heart skips a beat. you realize then, with the way his gaze softens and his teasing fades into genuine care, that this is why you never deny him.

your hand hesitates, but eventually, you reach out to brush your fingers against his cheek. his eyes widen slightly in surprise before his grin returns, smaller this time but somehow warmer.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice so quiet you’re not sure he hears you until he leans in again, this time slower, giving you all the space in the world to pull away if you want.

but you don’t.

your lips press against his for the briefest moment, featherlight and shy, but it’s enough to make his heart swell. when you pull back, your cheeks are aflame, and you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“see?” chenle murmurs, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and affection. “not so bad, right?”

you swat at his arm, grumbling under your breath, but he just laughs, leaning back against the couch with a contented sigh. “eleven,” you mumble after a moment, counting softly under your breath.

“what was that, baby?” he asks, feigning ignorance, though the grin tugging at his lips tells you he heard every word.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye, a small smile tugging at your own lips despite yourself. “that’s the eleventh one today.”

chenle chuckles, leaning over to press another quick kiss to your temple, his voice low and teasing.

“then make that twelve.”

---

I love the spectator sport AU and the hurt and comfort! Can you write Joel having a nightmare? Maybe the reader comforts him?

in the dead of night

pairing: joel miller x reader (pairing from the soccer parents AU)

summary: joel has a nightmare, you comfort him.

warnings: nightmare, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff

word count: around 400

author’s note: i wrote this in a few minutes on my phone. i cannot be held liable for any grammatical errors.

i’m also taking more drabble requests!

Being a mother, you’d woken up to all sorts of strange things in the middle of the night. Whether it was Chloe shaking your shoulder because she had a nightmare and didn’t want to be alone, or the absolutely lovely sound of your baby wailing through the night. Despite your extensive knowledge of strange wake-up calls, this one was definitely a first.

Fingernails dug into your skin, causing you to wake up with a yelp. A cold dread washed over you for a second, your sleepy brain thinking that maybe there was a deranged home invader whose preferred method of invasion was scratching their victims awake.

The reality was far less scary—for you, at least. As your eyes adjusted to the dark room, you recognized the fingers gripping you extraordinarily tight as your partner’s. You slowly became a bit more awake, and realized that Joel was shaking just the slightest bit, and that perspiration beaded at his hairline.

“Joel,” you whispered, removing his tight grip from your shoulder. After quietly saying his name, all you got in response was an unintelligible murmur.

“Joel,” you repeated, this time slightly louder, but still aware of the fact that your children were sleeping in the next rooms over.

At this utterance of his name, he stirred slightly more, but was very clearly still asleep, and still grappling with whatever strange thing was happening in his dream that had him sweating and gripping onto you like you were going to slip from his fingers.

You set your hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him while saying his name one more time, this time with a sense of urgency and concern. That somehow managed to be enough to finally wake the man in bed with you up, and Joel gasped as he awoke.

“Joel,” you said softly, hovering over the man. “Are you alright?”

He looked up at you wordlessly, blinking a few times before pulling you into a rib-crushing hug.

“I thought I lost you,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“Oh baby,” you cooed, playing with the hairs at the back of his head as he tightly embraced you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

POV: Your camera roll but you’re dating Pedro Pascal (part 2)

Jere with This Kind of Look on Him Compilation

(also known as: "I love his bowl cut, as well, but I go even more crazy when his hair is messy—or slicked back—like that and I decided to make it everyone's problem." )

Part #1 | Part #2/?

Behind Closed Doors:

Bojan Cvjetićanin x fem!reader

Chapter Three:

Masterlist

No murderer was knocking on innocent women's doors, unfortunately. Only a guilty Bojan. So, at least you got one thing correct?

"I'm trying!" You grunted as Jere's boot slipped from your grip, hitting the ground with a thud.

And you certainly felt innocent - a target even - in all this as you had to help with this mess.

The mess in question is an unconscious Jere.

After the worrying yet annoying texts from him, you found a puffed-out Bojan and a passed-out Jere outside your hotel room. Bojan was equally as tipsy as you were but insisted that you helped carry - or more like drag - Jere to bed. You both had decided on taking him to Bojan's hotel room, which he shared with Kris and Nace, hoping that way if he woke up sick or just very hungover, Kris would be there for him, instead of leaving him alone in his own hotel room. (poor Kris) And also because Jere didn't have his key on him. You only hoped it was misplaced back at the bar so he could retrieve it tomorrow but for now, you were struggling to carry him, and regretting ever leaving him on his own with Joker Out. God knows what happened.

"Well, try more!" Bojan grunted as all of Jere's body weight shifted to his hands, his legs staggering to keep himself steady.

"No shit Sherlock, THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING!" Your voice raised out of frustration as you glared at him while bending down to pick up Jere's legs again, accidentally revealing your cleavage in the dress you still had on from earlier, and grabbing onto his ankles. "My eyes are up here." You spoke flatly as you felt Bojan's eyes on you.

"I mean, it's not like I haven't seen it before," Bojan admitted nonchalantly as he smirked, provoking another glare out of you. You had been doing that a lot today.

You kept a firm grip on Jere's legs as you carefully carried him again and asked, "So, you remembered what happened then?"

"Hmm, I think you need to clarify." Sarcasm oozed off his tongue as he smirked again, making you groan, either because you were using all your strength to carry Jere or because you were fed up with Bojan. Probably both.

All Bojan could do was laugh at your reaction, "I remember us having some fun. Much more fun than well...what this is," He gestured to the passed-out Jere who was flopping about as you both hauled him.

Your eyebrows knitted together, "You say 'having some fun' as if implying we did...something..." You knew the pictures were well, suggestive, to say the least, but you knew for sure you never had sex with him...or either of them!

Bojan laughed, his eyes crinkling as a grin formed on his face as well as his dimples which were faint but still showed themselves to you, only making you want to stare at him for longer than you should. "No, we didn't. Only a little kiss...unless we did and we can't remember," He joked yet this didn't really amuse you. "I know for sure this guy is not gonna remember anything in the morning." He glanced down at Jere and chuckled to himself again, reminiscing on the partying they just enjoyed. A little too much, it seems.

"Good. I mean, I would want to remember that..." You awkwardly cleared your throat. Oh God, you were really talking about this. Changing the subject you asked, "What did you do to him anyway?!"

"Don't blame me! You are Finnish. Aren't you known for this?"

"I guess," you sighed, faintly laughing at your blacked-out best friend and his predicament.

Bojan didn't say anything other than muttering expletives under his breath as you worked up a sweat lugging Jere to the lifts. As soon as you reached them, both of you dropped him to the floor as you stood in front of the lifts. "Oops," While you caught your breath, you chuckled and eyed Jere on the floor but Bojan stayed silent. For a second you thought he was catching his breath like you were, but there was no sound of that. So, you wondered if what you had said about wanting to remember if you did it caught him off guard and made him uncomfortable and/or because the whole sauna situation had made him uneasy - even though he seemed to be making jokes about it just a moment ago and the day before. 

However, the moment you looked up from the still passed-out Jere and onto a shocked Bojan, you observed him staring unexpectedly at the lifts. Your confused self continued to watch him for a second before your eyes finally followed his gaze, immediately scanning an OUT OF ORDER sign that was stuck on the doors of the lift, almost mocking you. Not to mention additional caution tape that was stuck around for safety, as if you needed to be rubbed in the face more at the fact you'd have to carry Jere upstairs.

Your expression was just as equally shocked as Bojan's, but at this point it increasingly became irritated. "Of course." Your voice exuded sarcasm before scoffing, shaking your head as you turned back to face Bojan, expecting him to have disappeared, having given up on this whole journey.

But that was far from what would come out of his stupid mouth next.

"Well, we have a mission to complete. You know what they say, seize the day!" Trying not to act absolutely annoyed at the broken lift he cheered his signature line, almost making you automatically roll your eyes. Yet deep inside you wanted to laugh.

Well, this was one way to completely sober up.

____________________

Having almost tripped and fallen down the stairs while hauling Jere you were thankful when you saw Bojan's hotel room in sight. You thought carrying him was hard, until you tried carrying him while walking up stairs...

"Finally!" Exhausted, you flopped on the floor outside the hotel room next to where you rested Jere on the floor. Your head pounded. You and Bojan had successfully made it to the hotel room. Now you just hoped Bojan had the key.

"The key..." his voice sounded uncertain.

You hoped Bojan had the key-

"Uhh-" Looking up at him from the floor, you hoped to see the key in his hand but you couldn't.

"I don't have the key."

A long and tense pause lingered in the stuffy air. You stared at him with an almost blank stare, needing a moment to figure out how you were going to react.

"You what?" You laughed in disbelief.

"I, uh, may have lost the key..."

You were going to react angrily. "YOU WHAT?!" After all that hard work carrying Jere across the hallway along the hotel carpet - which you regret laying on now as the scratchy carpet digger into your skin - and up those steep stairs to the next floor, since the lifts conveniently happened to not be working so you could take Jere to bed, he hadn't thought to care more about keeping the room key safe... "What do we do now?!" Standing up before him, you half asked yourself and the guilty culprit in front of you.

Bojan shifted uncomfortably, "Umm...it must have fallen out of my pocket as we were carrying him!"

"Ugh. Well, you have Jere's key right? We can just go back and put him in his room, it's fine. Not what the plan was but-"

"Nu-uh! Do you know the leading cause of death from being hungover is puking while lying down!"

"Wh-"

"HE'LL CHOKE AND I'LL GET THE BLAME."

"Damn, okay, but you got us into this mess! One hundred percent I'll blame you. So what do you suggest?!" Your hungover headache is creeping its way back, harder this time, as this situation escalates. Although part of you thinks it's not just the hangover causing it.

He scratched his head and avoided your glaring eye contact. "We trace our steps and go back-"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS--"

A noise from beside you pulled your attention from Bojan. You looked over and saw it was Nace who had slammed the door open. "Shut up already! You woke me up and I'm very hungover. And what are all these texts about-" his eyes landed on the wiped-out Jere on the floor. "Oh."

"Thank god you're awake, I lost our room key-"

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Nace grumpily interrupted.

"Please just take him," You sighed and began handing Jere's legs for him to hold, Bojan following your lead. Nace sighed and accepted his fate. It's not like he had a choice anyway, and he just really wanted to go back to sleep, which you could relate to.

After putting Jere to bed, with a glass of water next to him for when he wakes and with the help of Bojan making sure to position him lying on his side to avoid any vomit-choking death, the two of you were ushered out by Nace, who now portrayed a snide smirk plastered across his face. "You're lucky Jan isn't here. He'd have a field day with this," he stifled a laugh, not wanting to make any more noise and wake Kris up, who was still sleeping blissfully unaware of the chaos that just occurred. Nace shut the door in both of your faces, not even bothering to ask where Bojan would sleep, which would be your room. He'd probably find that out from the Queen of Gossip, Jan, in the morning.

Together, you released a sigh of relief and Bojan high-fived you which you grudgingly reciprocated, nonetheless still annoyed at the whole situation.

When you made it back to your own hotel room with Bojan, you sank down on the bed with another sigh. Noticing your tiredness, Bojan handed you some water and stroked your stray hair away from your face, which you weren't expecting him to do though you didn't push his hand away. "Thanks for helping," he spoke lowly, but lightly.

Once his fingertips finished pulling the last strand, tucking it behind your ear gently, your skin burned, yearning for more. But you knew it was wrong, right? That sauna situation embarrassed you and those pictures, even worse. And you still hadn't talked to Bojan about it. Not properly anyway.

You were supposed to be colleagues. But it seems a lot can happen behind closed doors.

Realising you hadn't replied to him you uttered, "It's fine,"

God, of all the things you could say, that was all that came out?

You should shout at him for letting Jere get that drunk - even though everyone knows no one can stop him. You should tell him how embarrassed you are about whatever happened in the sauna. The kiss...The photos...

"I know what you're thinking about," Bojan whispered, almost sing-song-like. As if this was a game. Whatever this was.

"Go on then,"

His eyes squinted as if he was trying to mind-read, and you wondered if he did somehow get more drunk being near a blacked-out Jere for too long because he was staring at you longer than needed, with that piercing glare.

Tauntingly, his eyes quickly lowered to your cleavage again and back up to your eyes. Oh, how you wish you could roll your eyes right now but you were stuck. Frozen. Yet still burning from his touch.  You kicked yourself over how fast you seemed to swoon over the singer from Slovenia. That was all he should be to you.

"The kiss." he finally declared.

You took a deep breath, drinking him in, as he seemed closer than he was before. The strands of his fluffy hair fell perfectly on his forehead. Your fingers instantly brushed them away, just as he did yours. entangling with the rest of his dark blond hair. His eyes never left you. They couldn't.

"Is that why you've been ignoring me?"

"I haven't-"

He quirked an eyebrow at you, not believing you for one second.

You sighed again, softly this time. "Okay, maybe I have. So you do also remember taking those photos? Don't you think I'm some kind of slut?"

"What? No way. We were joking around."

"Oh, good. I'm glad they didn't get accidentally posted online or something. That wouldn't be good. Especially for our managers."

He chuckled, "No, it wouldn't,"

"Was this some sort of plan you two came up with?"

He hummed in question, eyebrows furrowing.

"The whole passed-out-Jere-I-need-somewhere-to-sleep fiasco."

"You said we should take him to mine,"

"Yeah because you screamed about how if he dies you'll get blamed, which is still what's gonna happen if he does. For now, Kris and Nace can deal with...that." Your mind wanders to the texts and for a second you imagine it all unravelling. God knows you've seen it happen before, being friends with Jere for so long.

"Did you want it to be? Did you want it so I planned to get in your bed," Bojan's voice was hot, you could suddenly feel it. He was moving closer and closer to you by the minute. And you didn't move away or tell him to do so. You didn't want to. "Because it seems like it. Not to mention" - he leans down, fingertips caressing your leg down to your heels - "your naughty trick."

Naughty, he says.

You blushed intensely, feeling goosebumps rise across your skin at his touch, and at remembering your caressing his leg with your heel. You didn't know what possessed you then in that moment but, boy, you did not regret it. Especially if it meant Bojan would be this close to you right now, making you feel light-headed in an excited way.

His fingertips glide back up, tingling. He leans in and you do too. Tingling now on your lips, just as the photo of him kissing your cheek made you feel. Just as he made you feel in the sauna. Just as he made you feel whenever he looked at you. Kissing never felt this good. A wave of almost relief washed over you. If he thought you were 'weird' or 'a slut' then he wouldn't be kissing you now, would he?

Seeing you were more comfortable, he spoke softly, yet with a hint of something else. Desire.

"Let me make it up to you.

No Duolingo, no problem

Jere Pöyhönen / Käärijä x Fem! Reader

Summary: You moved to Finland a few weeks ago and can't seem to feel at home: you're starting at a new job, you don't understand the language, you're kind of going through a break up... One tired and cold evening you head into the first bar you can find and briefly meet a cute guy you can't stop thinking about for the next few weeks. You try to forget about him, but when you go back to the same bar for some random gig your coworkers have invited you to go to, you find him again. [This takes place way before Eurovision]

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: English isn't my first language and I got a little lazy mid writing. Also they smoke a vape oops (seriously now don't do it it's shit for your health). Maybe smut implications at the end?

A/N: I didn't know what to name this lmao. I cannot believe I wrote fanficiton for the first time in YEARS because I fell in love with a Finnish guy after watching Eurovision. Anyway, I noticed an enormous shortage of Jere fics and decided to risk my final exams to serve the people. I hope it's worth it! Also apologies if the Finnish translation is shit I used a random website for it lol

Glossary:

"Anteeksi, pudotit takkisi" -> "Sorry, you dropped your coat"

"Jere, istuimme takapöydässä" -> "Jere, we are sitting at the back table"

"Olen tulossa" -> "I'm on my way"

"Hetkinen, kiitos!" -> "One moment, please!"

"Jere, sinun vuorosi on kymmenen minuutin kuluttua" -> "Jere, you're on in ten minutes"

"Minä menen nyt" -> "Coming"

"Hei kaikille, miten meillä menee tänään?" -> "Hi everyone, how are we doing today?"

"Kiitos, Mikko, arvostan sitä todella" -> "Thank you, Mikko, I really appreciate it"

"Miten uskallat tulla tänne?" -> "How dare she come here?"

"Meidän on hyödynnettävä sitä" -> "We'll have to make use of it"

"Mikä on sana?" -> "What's the word?"

...

It was cold. Hell, it was colder than she could have ever imagined before coming here. Sure, she had checked the country's temperatures before moving, researched online about what to expect for someone who was used to easy winters, had bought the fuzzy-fur-on-the-inside-boots and the heavy jacket and all that was recommended to face the never-ending snowing. But still, it somehow hadn't been enough.

A job offer and the need to find some new purpose to latch onto had led (Y/N) here. Now three weeks in, with no friends and hardly a place to call her home had helped regret start to settle in. So many things felt out of her control: the way her colleagues seemed to think she was a mess, the cashiers at the supermarket sighing because she still didn't understand the language, everyone from her hometown rolling their eyes when she announced she was leaving in a way that meant you're not gonna make it.

Yet being thrown outside her comfort zone, and being forced to move on however she could manage, made her feel at least some kind of thrive. Which was far more than she had back home.

As she walked down the street for some place to find shelter in, hands shaking and breaths almost uneven, a neon sign caught her attention. Even though she couldn't figure out the name, it looked like a pretty okay bar. She didn't need much convincing anyway; anything would do to get out of this freezing gale. She made her way in.

The warmth was a instant relief. Stripping down from the many layers of upper clothes, she took a quick glance to check the place out. Not many people, which was fair for a Wednesday evening. There was low music playing, mild chatter and a bunch of people sitting alone in the stools, which was a relief. At least she wouldn't be the only one.

As she ordered a beer (one of the few phrases she had made sure to master) she felt her hands come alive again. The beverage came along and she took a long, much anticipated sip. It tasted significantly different from the brands she was used to, but it was just fine. Alcohol is alcohol.

Finally feeling at ease, she took her phone out and started mindlessly scrolling through social media to kill some time. It was still early in the evening since she had just gotten out from work. An extra challenging day is what had led her to wander outside for a bit instead of heading back to the dull apartment she hadn't even been able to decorate yet. Going home right after would've led her to start overthinking if this job was even right for her, if she had gone crazy by moving hundreds of kilometres away from what she's always known, if her ex-girlfriend had been right when she accused her of being too impulsive, if it would be such a bad thing to give it up already and leave—

"Anteeksi, pudotit takkisi", she heard a voice say behind her.

When she turned around to give her "sorry I still don't speak Finnish" speech, she was met with a blue-eyed, dark-haired, funky but sweet looking guy holding her jacket, which she now understood had fallen to the floor. It caught her by surprise that she somehow forgot how to speak for a brief moment.

"Oh! Thank you, I hadn't noticed it was on the floor" she ended up answering, taking the jacket back as the man handed it to her with a confused look in his eyes. "Sorry, I'm not from here. I don't speak Finnish yet" she added with a small chuckle.

"No, don't worry, Finnish, uh- hard language to learn" he answered through an amusing smile, with a thick accent and a clear struggle to speak English.

She half laughed at his answer. Until now, people hadn't been so kind about the language-barrier impediment. "Yes, it is a little bit", she followed, now taking in his appearance.

Painted nails. Double nose piercings. Earrings. Facial hair. A bowl cut? Interesting choice, but it suited him surprisingly well. Her brain decided through that brief examination: he was cute. Attractively cute.

"You can try Duolingo. I use for my English, but don't work very very well" the man said the second part more as a correction to himself, making both of them laugh from the random half advice. He tried to fix it: "Maybe for you works better".

"Maybe. I'll check it out. Thank you again" her response was going to be followed by an invitation for him to sit down with her, as she felt a sudden wave of boldness: I need to make some friends in this town or else I'll go crazy. But a group of three other guys that had come in after him caught her stranger's attention.

"Jere, istuimme takapöydässä", one of them said to him, while walking to a table at the back corner of the bar.

"Olen tulossa" he turned around to answer, then looked at her once more, "I go now with my friends. Enjoy your beer" he smiled and small-waved goodbye, as she copied his gesture. "Enjoy your evening".

That small interaction was enough for her to spend the next half hour looking up from her phone, which she had retreated to, to glance at him from time to time. His group of friends and him seemed to be having a good time, and she enjoyed the view of him. He looked like a very interesting person, too, and if she was being honest, she hadn't been struck by someone new in quite some time. Not by her neighbors, not by the people she was starting to coincide with at the grocery shop, not even by her co-workers.

She noticed him looking at her from time to time as well.

When her glass was empty and just as the clock on her phone struck seven, she got up and got prepared to face the freezing wind once again. At least it wasn't that long of a walk to her place.

She lingered for a moment before exiting the bar, then finally did so while warning herself not to get too caught up on the nice stranger she suddenly felt she was leaving behind. It was just a one minute interaction. You probably won't see him again. Quit this teenager act. Focus on the important tasks ahead of you.

It was already pitch black outside, snow accumulated on the sidewalks, the air was even colder than before.

Excitement started to bubble up in the pit of her stomach.

...

Two weeks had gone by and although she had been meaning to return to the bar, she just hadn't find the time to do so. Once the job's training period ended, the hectic rythm started. In her free time, when she wasn't taking care of the house or just resting, she was trying to find some language academy where she could actually properly learn Finnish. Cute guy had been right: Duolingo just didn't do the trick.

She had hoped he would appear around the neighborhood, that maybe he lived nearby. But there had been no luck. It was fine, though. She knew she would let go of it rather quickly at that point, it's not like she had been thinking about his addictive smile or pretty eyes or soft-looking hands. Not at all.

It was Friday, and some acquaintances from work she had managed to pull off had invited her to a small gig. She didn't even remember the musician's name nor did she know where it was going to be, but nevertheless she was happy to go and actually get to have some fun with other people. Who knows, cute guy might even be there.

She didn't even realize they were headed to the bar until they were right in front of it. Inside, a small stage platform had been set up and tables and chairs had been removed to make space for the audience. It wasn't very spacey anyway, the place could hold about a hundred people squeezed together tops.

"Huh, hadn't even thought of this place as a venue" she let her thoughts trail out loud.

"Have you been here before?" her coworker Aubrey, who she had slightly bonded with because she was also a foreigner, asked her. "Only once" the girl explained, already searching for a certain someone's face in the crowd. "So, who have you brought me to see tonight?" she asked, in the hopes of at least getting some conversation non-work related flowing. "I don't really know, coming here was Mikko's idea. He's always trying to get us into these weird small rap-rock Finnish bands, and listen, I've lived here for over a year now and I still don't really get the hype" Aubrey explained making both of them laugh "But it always ends up being fun when we go out" she added.

The rest of the group had moved forward to get a good spot near the humble stage, as Mikko babbled on and on about nonsense the two women couldn't figure out from the distance. "Hey, I'm going to the bathroom real quick. Mind saving me a place?" (Y/N) asked her colleague, who answered affirmatively.

She made her way through the crowd in between "excuse me's" and "sorry's" but got there with quite ease. One of the two toilet doors had a sign that read "Out of order", so she knocked on the one that was left to check if anyone was inside. A voice that sounded vaguely familiar came from the other side: "Hetkinen, kiitos!"

Nervousness suddenly struck her. Is this who I think it is?

When the door opened there was no doubt. Cute stranger was standing in front of her.

"Oh! Hello" he blurted out just as he saw her, sounding surprised. Today he was wearing eye makeup and bottom eyeliner, which suited him very, very well. He has such a pretty face.

She realized now she had not been able to get over this guy in the two weeks of not seeing him, even though she didn't even know his name.

"Hi" was all she could manage to say. She had been looking for him when she entered the bar but she was convinced he was not actually going to be there, "It's good to see you!" she added, as a way of avoiding an awkward silence.

"You as well. You, uh, you come to... concert?" he inquired, struggling to find the last word while pointing towards the direction where the stage was to make sure he was being understood.

She noticed he was wearing an all yellow outfit that consisted of corduroy pants and a button up. He looks good in it.

"Yes, some work friends brought me here. But if I'm being honest I don't even know who's playing" she confessed, slightly covering her mouth with one of her hands to joke around, as if she had spilled a dark secret. Stranger burst out laughing. His laugh was cute. "Do you know if he's good? I wanna know if I'll be wasting my time or not" she asked him, pretending to be a diva to keep his laugh going.

He had his arms crossed and his tongue between his teeth as he slightly giggled. "No, I think he's pretty ok. I think you will like, even if no understand" his answer was playful and accompanied with another small laugh. She continued joking around, this time putting her hands up in pretend self defense "Hey, I'll try my best. Maybe using Duolingo for two days actually did something" she shot back, realizing after saying those words that she had just told Mr. Stranger she had followed his advice.

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head playfully "You did what I say to you" he stated. "Yes, but you were right. It's not really helpful. Now I just keep getting emails from the goddamn owl and feel scared that he's going to find me and kill me for not going back to the app" she explained exaggeratedly, which made their giggles grow bigger and even he bent his knees with laughter.

Their little chit-chatting was cut when a man who looked like he had been searching for someone stopped in his tracks at the beginning of the bathroom hall and shouted at them: "Jere, sinun vuorosi on kymmenen minuutin kuluttua". She turned around to look at the source of the voice and then back at stranger when he answered "Minä menen nyt". She wished she knew what they were saying, but she assumed it had just been his friend telling him to hurry up. Also, was Jere his name? She had heard it two times already.

"Someone's always calling out for you", she commented when they were left alone again. "It's because me popular, yes yes" he joked, putting a hand to his chest and shrugging. "Listen, I go now. Concert starting soon" he explained, pointing out to the stage's direction once again "I see you there?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he put a hand to her shoulder, looking into her eyes. His blue ones had her mind going blank for a moment. That seemed to happen a lot when he was around. "Uh- yeah, sure, see you there". He smiled again then moved past her to return to the hall. She stared at him leave as she opened the door to the bathroom and finally went inside, smiling to herself and biting her bottom lip.

She hurried back once she was finished not only in fear of missing out the start of the concert, but more so in fear of not finding him again. Aubrey raised her hand to catch her attention and she followed the lead back to the group. The place was packed, it was hot, and there was a lot of chatter going on.

"What took you so long?", Aubrey asked as she got to her side, just in front of the stage, "They're about to start". (Y/N) was standing on her tiptoes and turning her head in all directions. She had just talked to him and the bar was not that big: where the hell had he hid himself?

"There was a long line to the bathroom..." she started off distantly, then turned to face Aubrey "Hey, this is going to sound weird, but have you seen-" just when she was going to make the question, she noticed some people walking up to the stage and everyone started cheering.

As she looked up, she couldn't have been more dumbfounded.

It was him. Mr Stranger was the one performing tonight.

"Hei kaikille, miten meillä menee tänään?" he shouted out to the public, (Y/N) assumed as a way of greeting everyone. He took no time noticing she was right there, which made him grin even wider. "I see we have international people tonight. Good" he said while looking directly at her. She felt her coworkers eyes on her.

"Do you know him?" Aubrey whispered-shouted to her, "I- uh, no, yes? Briefly" she responded back as he continued on in Finnish. She remembered the question she had made him earlier and mentally facepalmed. This cheeky dude. Lying to her face just so he could later get her reaction.

Since there was no way of understanding what he said, she concentrated on what she could see. Two men behind him wearing pink shirts and shorts and sunglasses. A DJ table, no instruments. There was a sign hanging from the wall that read "Käärijä". Was that his artistic name? She was very intrigued by everything going on and wondered what genre he was going to play.

She had no idea what was coming.

As soon as he stopped talking and the music started playing, his demeanor changed. His stare became fiercer, his movements provocative and unleashed. He walked around the stage like he owned it, stared at the audience like he knew they would do whatever he asked them. Every beat before he started singing rumbled inside her, made her hold her breath in anticipation. She let it out once the words started to fall from his mouth.

The lyrics could have been shit for all she knew. His deep voice, the exotic pronunciation, the hard rapping from the boy who had seemed so sweet and wholesome but was now showing another side of him, the song's rhythm and tone. She was all in. So in, that her body started swaying to the sound almost like an automatic response, and jumped around alongside everyone else when the music demanded to do so.

"Ok, he's really good" she said to her coworkers as the crowd sung alongside him. "Mikko, you were right, he's really good" she insisted to the boy beside her, who was clearly enjoying himself. "I told you!" he answered amidst chanting, "Jere is my most talented friend". Oh, okay. Mental note taken.

As he performed his songs, (Y/N) couldn't help but admire the dedication Jere put on and the absolute fun he looked like he was having. Also, she realised he was at least kind of known around here, because people were singng alongside him.

The head banging, self touching, slightly undressing and sticking his tongue out only added more to his eclectic movements and gestures that made the show feel like a mix of energetic, passionate and, why deny it, lascivious state. Her eyes were glued to him in a capitative stare, that he would catch from time to time and hold for a few seconds. Then he would turn to his attention somewhere else, but a smirk would make a clear appearance on his face.

Whenever he finished a number, the loud clapping allowed him some time to take a sip of water. The clothes he was wearing and its material soon became unbearable, which lead him to take his shirt off completely. "Sorry, it is hot in here" he stated into the microphone pretending to excuse himself as a joke, as everyone in the room made a fuss about it. He was heavily sweating all over his face, neck and torso.

If she had previously been absorbed by him, at this point it was almost unbearable. She had not expected to see so much exposed flesh, and the pectoral tattoo nearly had her weak on her knees.

For some reason, freehing himself from his clothes somehow made him behave even wilder from then on out. He started getting closer to the front row, some even holding out their arms to interact with him, him receiving the gesture with no issue. The Fin looked so confident in what he was doing, it only made her feel even more attracted to him.

He moved so quickly (Y/N) didn't even have time to process when he positioned himself right in front of her, amidst performing a song, and full on stroked her cheek for a few lasting moments, all the while mainting direct eye contact. It was as if no one else had been around them, as if this instant had been theirs only. She didn't respond to the touch by touching him herself, since she couldn't find the strength to be as bold; but the breath hitching and swallowing saliva right after were a clear sign to Jere that he made her feel things. He would quite probably feel embarrassed about it later, but right now it made him feel close to powerful.

The whole gig ended on a high note, the applause was strong and lasting. (Y/N) clapped her hands so fast they even started hurting a little, and could understand through the noise that Jere was thanking everyone for coming out to see him. As he was about to exit the stage, some music started playing over the speakers as to signal that the performance was over and everyone could retreat to either leave the bar or get a drink and stay there for a longer while. As the people from the front row turned around and waited to have a chance to move, (Y/N) felt a hand on her shoulder.

Jere looked exhausted, but it also seemed like the whole night had riled him up. "You don't leave now?", he meant to ask, but came out more as a plead. She wouldn't even dream of doing so right now. "No, no, I'm staying" she rushed to answer. "Good. Wait for me?" he went on. She could only manage to nod her head yes. He smiled and quickly went "backstage" to freshen up.

"Okay, what the actual hell was that?" Aubrey took no time to pry her, "It did not look like knowing each other briefly". (Y/N) shrugged while putting her hands in the air and half laughing, not knowing how to beat those allegations.

"It's classic Jere. Finds a girl cute and cannot stop himself" Mikko chimed in, while grinning, "Now I understand, you must be the girl he saw a couple of weeks ago over here, right?"

"He's talked about me?" she said, a bit shocked, while Mikko lead the way for the three of them to go grab a drink. "Yes, well, now that I connect the dots, that evening you came here, it was a Wednesday, right? I came too, but it must've been after you left. When I arrived he was commenting it".

Some of the other coworkers were starting to leave, not without commenting the elephant in the room before grabbing the door. "You're gonna be the talk of the office now", Aubrey asserted, making Mikko laugh and (Y/N) grow redder by the minute. "I don't even- we haven't even talked that much, really. But watching him onstage was..." she trailed off, letting out a sigh and grabbing the drink Mikko offered her, thanking him in the process. "Yes, it's his special trait. That magnetism he holds is what's gonna get him places", he agreed.

"Okay, but does this whole act mean that he always does this? Like, does he take advantage of his concerts to mindlessly flirt with random people?" (Y/N) suddenly tried to rationalize the fast track of actions Jere was taking on with her. Sure, she liked him, and she really, really wanted to have some fun. Needed it, even. This bonding moment with Aubrey and Mikko right now, this non-work related, exciting chatter; the going out; as precipitating as it sounds she was starting to feel like she was finally making friends, establishing a life. But she also didn't want to be played around with.

"Ohhh, no, not necessarily" her coworker laughed, calming her down "Käärijä the performer is seductive, provocative, even uncontrollable" he took a sip from his drink, "But Jere the person is another story. Dude wouldn't even hurt a fly, I mean it" he reassured her. He then was about to say something else, but stopped on his tracks when they all noticed the man of the hour and the tow men who had performed with him coming over to them. However, he quickly commented to the girls the following before Jere could hear them: "If anything, he's the one who has been played around with".

Jere approached Mikko first, going in for a hug, which made total sense given the fact that they were friends. (Y/N) appreciated it, because his last comment had caught her by surprise. He had changed into some track pants and graphic loose t-shirt, and over all he already looked far more calmed down and back to his more, to put it some way, innocent self. Aubrey and (Y/N) exchanged a look before introducing themselves to the guys in pink, who had not changed their outfits. Their names were Jaakko and Aleksi.

"Hey, I recognize you. You were all in the bar that day I was here" she said as a realization. "Yes, we were planning tonight" Aleksi answered, "Did you like it?" he added, to both her and Aubrey.

While the four of them engaged in small talk, the girls understood that Mikko was congratulating his friend on his performance and Jere was thanking him, "Kiitos, Mikko, arvostan sitä todella", he said with appreciation on his face, closed smile and big puppy eyes (Y/N) couldn't ignore. With one last ruffle on his hair from Mikko, the two men stayed with one arm over the other's back and turned to the group.

"Alright, let's talk in English now so we can all understand each other..." Mikko started off. "I see you guys have already introduced yourselves, very good. Now let me introduce you girls to Käärijä himself, although maybe a certain someone doesn't need it" he playfully remarked, making Jere look away while hiding his face and (Y/N) roll her eyes. "Jere, these are (Y/N) and Aubrey from work. Aubrey, (Y/N), this is Jere" he played around using a formal tone and letting out of their embrace.

"Nice to meet you" Aubrey answered, shaking hands with him and gently pushing (Y/N) forward once she was done to signal her to do so as well.

"I finally know your name" he commented, making her chuckle, "Yes, I guess you do". Mikko and Aubrey swiftly moved to give them some space, going over to Jaakko and Aleksi, who were all in in the same unspoken plan.

"You like the show?" he seemed a bit nervous as he rested his elbow on the counter and signaled the waiter to get him a drink, while attentively listening to her answer, "Honestly, I'd never been to one quite like this. I mean, I've been to rock concerts and such, but this energy you guys put on stage was totally new for me. I really enjoyed it tho, you're really good" she sincerely said.

"Oh, thank you, really" Jere put a hand to his chest as to show gratitude, "It was first concert after months of not doing", he further explained, "So means a lot all people who come here, yes. I'm so happy for this, I was worried if not work well". He sounded so humble (Y/N) couldn't help but grow to like his personality even more. She was curious to know why he hadn't played in a way, but also didn't want to intrude, so she opted for another response. "Well you should be. We all had a blast".

"You understand anything I sing?" he wondered with a perky smirk, before taking a sip from the beer that had just landed in front of him. "I didn't need to", she let it out without giving it a second thought, almost as if this was the only real answer she could give, which to her felt absolutely true. He was shocked by it and spilled some of the drink out, quickly catching the dripping by covering his mouth with a napkin.

"Ah, I make fool of me now, great!" he tried to cover up by playing down the incident. She couldn't stop laughing out loud, some people even noticing the whole scene between the two of them, specially Mikko and company who laughed as well from a distance, "That's what you get for lying to me before" she joked, but grabbed a napkin as well to clean his shirt up, softly patting it on his chest. "Sorry, I wanted to surprise" he justified. It was in that moment that she noticed they were almost the same height. When her gaze moved upward from the stain she was cleaning up, his stare was way closer than she had thought. He carried on talking.

"Also, before, I hope I not make you... uh-, mikä on sana epämukavalle?" he looked over at Mikko for help regarding a language inquire.

"Uncomfortable"

"Yes, that" Jere said, "I hope I not make you uncom... uncomfortable when I, you know-" he tried to explain himself, struggling with the pronunciation. He stroked his own cheek to interpret what he attempted to say. "Oh! No no, don't worry, it was- it was okay. I liked it, actually", his relief was evident after she assured him. He let out a nervous giggle.

Then, something caught his attention. His gaze had travelled to the door, past (Y/N), and what he saw made his face turn dead serious, although also sad. Mikko, Aleksi and Jaakko very quickly noticed what was happening. Aubrey and (Y/N) also turned around to check it out: a girl was standing by the entrance looking for someone with a worried expression.

"Miten uskallat tulla tänne?" Jaakko expressed angrily. The three men addressed Jere, who suddenly was a loss of words and course of action.

"Ex alert" Aubrey whispered to (Y/N) while sipping from her drink's straw. "They're asking him if he wants to go talk to her" she informed her friend, which (Y/N) was thankful for. It was really tiring to not catch anything on her own sometimes. While the four men were talking to each other, deciding what to do next, (Y/N) grabbed Jere's arm and everyone's attention fell on her. She just couldn't stop strongly empathizing with him because she had also recently been through a break up and knew how shitty it was. Jere seemed more at ease when she talked, "Are you okay? Do you want to get out of here?" he looked past her again, everyone following his direction and realizing his ex was coming over to them. "I do, please", "Then we're getting out of here", (Y/N) decided, "You guys coming?" she asked the rest. "No, you guys go on. We'll make sure she doesn't follow" Mikko stated, thankful for her determination.

They said rushed goodbyes and (Y/N) got ahold of his hand to guide him towards the door. When they walked past her, she tried to talk, but they were quick to get out.

As per usual, it was freezing. They started to wander off to anywhere.

...

"I'm sorry about having to go"

They had found a comfortable spot in a park overlooking the town's river and had settled there. They had walked for a while, him trying to talk about anything else but his ex.

"Don't sweat it. I fully understand" she comforted him, then took the vape he had previously offered to her and took a puff before continuing, "I got broken up with three months ago... I hate to admit it, but it's part of the reason I ended up deciding to move here", she explained. He listened to her attentively, with a stern face.

The night was silent over here. It was only the sound of the stream and their hushed voices

"Can I ask why the break up?" he inquired, not wanting to pry on too much. "Only if I can ask why the break up", she made him chuckle. "Yes, of course" he accepted.

"She said I was too impulsive and that she couldn't trust me to maintain a steady and stable relationship, because I couldn't even do that with my own life" she sighed after her explanation and rolled her eyes.

"Wow" Jere said, disapproving look on his face "Hard thing to say".

"Yes, but honestly, I don't hold a grudge anymore. She had her right to think that way too. I do so too sometimes" she admitted, handing back the electronic cigarette, since they were taking turns to smoke.

"That's shit" he commented, which made them both laugh, "But I understand, too. "My ex, Sofia, that's her name, she uh- said she not approve of music career" his gaze moved upfront, "She said It's either me or music, and I think she not like my answer" Jere let out a half-sad cackle, "This is all I ever wanted to do. I loved her, I feel like I still do a bit, you know? But..." he nodded negatively before finishing the sentence, "I need someone who give support. What I told you before, the not doing concerts? A part of it was because I got, uh, insecure".

Silence fell between them as they both got lost in their own thoughts for a brief moment.

"You know, for someone who claims to not be good at English, you can maintain quite a deep conversation" her words made him belly laugh again. He looked at her and handed the vape once more. "Don't need Duolingo for that" he referenced. He was about to speak again but cut himself. "You can go on, it's fine", his doe-like blue eyes seeped cherishment.

"Oh, I not know, talking about ex was not in my plans when being alone with a girl I like" he made her blush, "I just thinking that, you know, I'm almost... mikä on sana" he struggled again with the language "Thirty year old?" he doubted if he had said it right, and the girl nodded to indicate him he had, "Thirty year old, and when younger I thought Oh, I achieve my dreams at thirty, have the family, all that... You know? And... nothing of that" he described, "My songs, some say that. But you not understand, so..." he added jokingly to lighten the mood, erupting laughter from her.

"Hey, I'm trying really hard to find a place where I can learn Finnish! Give me a break..." she defended herself, while the giggling from both of them died down. "But, just so you know, most of us feel this way too. Having your life figured out at thirty? That only happens to the lucky ones, I can assure you" she saw his tired expression and put a hand to his shoulder, "And by the way, you're crazy talented. We were all mesmerized by your performance. You can get to whatever place you want to be, and if you don't, well... It won't be because of your fault".

They were once again looking in each other's eyes. His gaze travelled down to her mouth. They were sitting close to one another as to avoid the cold wind. Her heart beat faster. How come did she feel like he had known him for such a long time if this was practically their first ever proper conversation? Yet she couldn't fight it. She had seen so many sides of him in such a short amount of time; she swore she'd never been that much of a romantic but the alcohol, mixed with how vulnerable they both felt in that moment and the fact that she was finally feeling at ease after more than a month of such a big change in her life, probably did the trick.

"Can- can I...?" he started nervously, but was interrupted.

"Yes"

Their lips crashed, finally killing the anticipation. Her hands cupped his face and his ones settled on her waist. She felt his long eyelashes touch her face, his beard tickled her jaw and his hoop piercing was cold on her nose. (Y/N) enjoyed feeling all these parts of Jere on her. He truly was so pretty. And suddenly, she wanted to make sure he knew just how pretty he was and how much he deserved to know it. The wave of boldness she had had to ask him to sit down with her those two weeks ago, but had been interrupted, came back as a stronger force.

When they separated to catch their breath, (Y/N) kept his face close to hers. He was panting through a timid smile and hot red burned his cheeks. She noticed her face doing the same thing.

"My apartment is a five minute walk from here" she suggested.

"Meidän on hyödynnettävä sitä" he whispered, hands going up and down her sides, and the Finnish language had never sounded so seductive to her.

"I didn't catch that",

"You don't need to. I will show you".