𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋 | 𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
As maid of honour, you promise to keep things simple—no hint of the almost-love you once shared with Jake, the groom. But between the ceremony, the smiles, and the photos that pull you too close, it’s clear some feelings are harder to hide than planned.
Forbidden romance | angst | smut-adjacent tension | cheating implications | sexual tension | sex | unprotected sex | rough/soft mix | possessiveness
Groom jake x maid of honour reader
One shot | angst | smut
[unedited!]
The bridal suite reeked of hairspray and roses—too sweet, too artificial, a little too loud for how nauseous real everyhting felt inside you.
Your best friend was marrying him.
And you—the maid of honour, keeper of cows, fixed of veils—currently suppressed in the pride and bitterness of this egregious situation…
But all of that perished when he had you pressed against the marble counter of the suite bathroom, while Jake Sim stood just a few inches from you, chest rising and falling like he’d run there.
“We can’t… keep doing this,” you whispered, but your voice only broke halfway.
Jake’s jaw flexed as he bit a portion of his lip. “I know.”
“You look..” his voice trailed off. It wasn’t meant to be said aloud.
You cut him off sharply with a smile on your face. “Stop.”
Jake only stepped closer. His black suit, messy hair and the tie you’d helped him choose months ago came into view, much clearer.
This was disgusting—indefensible—impossible.
“We have to talk,” his breath brushed your neck.
“No,” you said, “we don’t.”
He shot back with a light chuckle, “and you think pretending helps?” , “that ignoring everything makes this less—"
“Wrong?” You hissed. “Yes, Jake.”
He flinched.
You weren’t being cruel. You were merely just trying to survive.
Judging by his expression, the raised brows, mouth agape and eyes piercing into yours, you knew exactly what his thoughts were: ‘I didn’t come here to fight with you’
“Then why come at all?” You asked. Jake swallowed hard. Even lozenges couldn’t soothe the ache he felt trickle down his throat. “That’s what I’m intending on figuring out.”
The truth was obvious: he couldn’t stay away from you. And you couldn’t stay away from him.
And that made your heart drop.
His fingers brushed your arm—the smooth ease of his fingertips igniting that fire beneath your skin. You jerked away. “We can’t”
He exhaled shakily. “I know. I know, okay?” His voice cracked. “Which is why we need boundaries. Rules. Something.”
You laughed bitterly, “now? Hours before you marry my best friend?”
“Don’t say it like that,” his jaw tightened.
How else were you supposed to say it?
He then stepped infront of you, blocking your escape, eyes pleasing. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“You’re marrying her for fucks sake Sim,” you whisper shouted. “That’s the right thing is it not?”
His silence was worse than anything he could’ve said. Jake looked at you like he was memorising your face. Like he was terrified of forgetting you. Like he already regretted everything.
Until he asked you for a promise.
“Promise what?”
“That after today…” his voice turned hoarse, fragile. “…you’ll walk away. We both will.”
You blinked hard, throat thickening. “And pretend none of this happened?”
He hesitated, and with red eyes he said, “pretend it didn’t ruin me.”
“Promise me,” he whispered. Reaching for you. Once and lightly so as his fingers brushed your wrist.
“I pro—
Someone knocked on the door. “Y/n! It’s almost time!”
Jake took one last, look at you—and waited for you to walk out before him as if you leaving was the price of salvation.
You stood beside the bride, bouquet trembling in your hands.
Jake stood there at the alter waiting, backing straight and smile perfectly rehearsed. A groom the crowd adored.
But when she walked down the aisle, your eyes met.
Not even for a second.
But long enough to make something under your ribs collapse.
He then looked at her, your best friend Solene, with duty.
He looked at you with devastation.
And when the bows began, your ears rang. The words were selectively muffled out. And only Jake’s voice from the backseat of his car:
“I shouldn’t want you.”
“You’re all I think about.”
“Tell me you feel it too…that you want me.”
A tear slipped down your cheek. No one noticed the real reason behind it, just the typical “crying for your bestie”mask of tears.
Then their kiss drew applause. You purposely blurred your vision with a fake smile through the burn in your throat.
No objections. None.
So the wedding continued. Photos. Speeches you know the whole spiel. Even dancing.
But Jake didn’t dance with you. He didn’t speak to you. He ain’t even let himself stand near you.
He remained far on the opposite side all night long—but his eyes found you like he was magnetised. Every stare stung with purpose.
Every regret, that came packaged with a silent apology.
“Alright! The groom and maid of honor next!” The photographer called.
Your stomach plummeted, at the insult sequence of events.
Jake froze mid convo- whilst solene encouraged you to take the picture.
“You two always take great pictures together.”
You have no idea solene.
Jake tried to avoid your gaze, fear and longing wrapped in one. And the age of the promise you both made. Your unfinished promise…
You walked toward each other slowly, like the space between you was dangerous ground.
“You’re so stiff! Come closer!”
Jake hesitated, then placed his hand on your waist.
Softly. Too softy counting the thousandth time he touched you there.
“Closer,” the photographer said. “You look like awkward cousins.”
Jake inhaled sharply, then pulled you insult—your body pressed flushed against his.
Heat shot through you. Memories. Nights. Kisses. The way he used to—
“Perfect!”
It wasn’t perfect…it was pure torture.
For his hand stayed a second too long. His thumb stroking your waist. Barely, accidentally…on purpose.
“Jake—stop.” You whispered.
“I can’t.”
Click
Click
Click
The camera captured everything. The way your lashes fluttered. The way his body angled toward yours. The way his eyes dipped to your mouth.
You stepped away first, before anything got too messy.
and he let go like it hurt him. He didn’t speak. But as he wakes back to his new wife—he turned.
That devastating look. One that said:
You’re still mine.
Midnight tastes like stale champagne on your tongue.
Heels clicked down the carpeted hallway, each step fuelled by exhaustion and a choking toughness in your chest. The reception still roared downstairs, but you couldn’t sit through another speech, another round of photos, another moment catching him staring from across the room like he was suffocating.
You should’ve left earlier. You should’ve stayed the fuck away. You should’ve been stronger.
But instead, you were here—in the hotel hallway, hands shaking as you shoved your keycard into the slot. The door clicked you exhaled—
Knock. Knock.
His voice was immediate.
“Y/n”
You froze. He found you. Of course he did.
You pressed your forehead to the door. “Jake…not tonight, please.”
“Open the door,” he whispered.
“No.”
He exhaled, shaky.
“I’m begging.”
Your breath hitched. Jake sim did not beg. Ever.
You unlocked door with no second thought, and he slipped in like a storm—tie undone, shirt dumped, hair slightly out of place from dancing with his new wife.
You hated how painfully handsome he looked. How married he looked.
“What are you—
“I can’t breathe,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “You walked out, and I—I couldn’t breathe”
You closed the door behind him, leaning on it because your legs refused to hose you upright.
“We made a promise.” You started.
“And you didn’t finish it.”
He snapped. Eyes wild, glossy and desperate.
He shook his head. Your back hit the door as he approached you slowly, “you disappeared from reception.”
He stepped closer unable to finish his words, like he was afraid you might shatter
Or like he already was.
“You can’t be here,” you whispered.
He knew, you knew, every one knew.
He pressed his palms to the door on the side of your head, caging you in. Close enough that your breath mingled with his.
“Do you still want me?” His voice dropped, destroyed.
“Jake…”
“Tell me.” He leaned in, lips brushing your cheek. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Why?” You breathed.
“Because if you say no, I’ll walk out right now without even batting an eye,” he whispered.
“And if you say yes…” he swallows hard.
“I’ll break…every vow I made today.”
Your heart slammed painfully.
“Jake,” you trembled, “you’re married for fucks same.”
“And I’m in love with someone else.”
You’re knees weakened the closer he got, his face in yours, nose running, “I swear, I did try to choose her…”
He inhales shakily.
“But I jus can’t stop—
He kissed you.
It was nothing like the rushed, hungry kisses you’d stolen months before.
This one was slow and ruined. He kissed you like he was sorry for leaving you and not sorry to her. Sorry for loving you at the worst possible time.
His lips lingered on yours, gentle but trembling.
“Stop me if this is so wrong y/n” he said. Eyes stuck on your swelling lips.
You didn’t.
All restraint shattered. He grabbed your waist—hard—lifting you by your thighs as your lips crashed together again. You wrapped around him instinctively, legs curling, dress riding up as he carried you to the bed.
He kissed you like a man famished. You kissed him back just as starved.
“God…I missed you,” he breathed against your neck, hands rising under your dress, pushing it to your hips.
“You saw me everyday,” you whispered.
“Not like this.” His lips brushed your throat. “ I can’t touch you the way I want. Can’t look at you the way I do.”
A shaky exhale.
“I’ve been dying.”
You gasped as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them.
“Jake—
But his pupils blew wide.
“Fuck”
He tore your panties down your legs—slowly, reverently—dragging them past your ankles like fragile silk.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “I forgot how much it hurts to look at you.”
Your breath hitched. “Then don’t look.”
“I can’t help it.”
He lowered himself between your legs. The first stoke of his tongue made your back arch violently.
He moaned into you, hands sliding under your hips to pull you against his mouth, bringing his face like he was finally home.
“Fuck you taste—
He groaned,sucking gently, then harder.
“I forgot how good you taste.”
“Jake—slow—
“No.” He tightened his grip.
He licked you deeper, faster, tongue stroking exactly where you needed until your thighs shook around his head.
You climaxed with a choked moan, hands clawing the sheets.
But Jake kept going.
His tongue lapping. His fingers holding you open. His mouth sucking you through every wave.
“Jake—it’s too much—
He looked up at you from between your legs, lips slick.
“One more,” he softly said. “For me.”
You shattered again—louder, messier—as he devoured every sound you made.
When he finally crawled up your body, his mouth shone with you. He kissed you deeply—letting you taste yourself—breathing hard against your lips.
“Please,” he whispered between kisses.
“Just tonight.”
“Jake…”
“I won’t ask again. I swear.” His forehead pressed yours. “Just tonight.”
His voice broke.
And when you pulled him down, he exhaled like he’d been drowning for months.
His belt hit the floor. His pants slid low enough to free his aching cock, flushed and dripping.
Your eyes widened. He kissed the corner of your mouth, “I’ll be gentle.”
Jake lined himself up—grinding the tip against your entrance, slow, aching, teasing.
“Look at me,” he breathed.
You did. He slid in. All the way. Deep, slow, stretching you open until your mouth fell open in a silent cry.
“Fuck—“ he groaned eyes rolling back. “You’re so warm, ah—“
You pulled him closer as he started to move—slow at first, deep strokes that made your toes curl.
Then faster.
Desperate.
Ruined.
His breaths turned ragged, hips snapping harder, hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he moaned against your jaw.
“I married her—and all I wanted was you.”
A thrust. You moaned.
“Your mouth.”
Another.
“Your body.”
Another, deeper.
“Your voice saying my name.”
“Ah—ja—
“I wanted you,” he whispered harshly, “on my wedding night, I wanted you.”
“That’s—f-fucked up” you struggled to say.
“And yet I’m the one fucking you good.”
Those words pushed you over the edge—you came undone around him, shaking crying his name.
Jake fell apart seconds later—groaning into your neck as he spilled inside you, thrusting and grinding through every last pulse. 
He didn’t move. He stayed inside you. Chest pressed to yours. Breathing in your neck like he needed the scene if you to stay alive.
“Don’t leave yet,” he said.
He finally looked up. Eyes glistening.
“Y/n…what do we do now?”
Your heart cracked open.
“We pretend.”
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t wanna.”
You kissed him softly. Tragically.
Closing his eyes like this moment were knives you mouthed,
“I know.”