#'is this a good piece of writing?' and 'do I like this thing I've written?' and 'did lots of other people like this piece of writing?'

[kaysungshine]

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .☽ fae trap ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

{ Pairing } - Elf!Felix x Witch.afab!Reader

{ Genre } - Smut, Dark, Fantasy

{ Synopsis } - It is said, that if you ever find yourself inside of a fairy ring. The fae will punish you, by making you dance until you are passing out from exhaustion. But when you find yourself doing a different kind of 'dance' on the ground, in the middle of one, with the most beautiful creature you've ever seen you might add, you wonder; is this truly a punishment?

{ WC } - 7.7k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, aphrodisiac effects, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), rough/hard sex, overstimulation, big dick felix, dacryphilia, talk of breeding & mating, talking of mating rituals, please don't touch fly agaric mushrooms, srsly they're toxic and deadly, possible incorrect french usage.

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - For the love of all things skz. DO NOT EVER TOUCH FLY AGARIC/AMANITA MUSCARIA MUSHROOMS. THEY ARE TOXIC. DEADLY. This is also probably the darkest thing I've written on this account so far. But it doesn't feel inherently evil to me personally??? But it is enough to warrant a TW! This started off as a birthday oneshot for Felix. I'm starting to think I'm no good at oneshots. This could be left alone, but it could also be a series... I have so many world building thoughts, but idk if I wanna do that. What do you think?

Dusk was approaching as you made your way home from your walk. 

You were blessed to own a cute little home, right on the edge of a beautiful and mysterious forest. Every day you were able to take nature walks, wandering through the treeline, exploring the vegetation. Collecting materials, making sure never to take too much of what the woodland had to offer. And caring for as much as you could, though you knew you were not essential to the survival of wilderness itself. 

That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there. 

You never brought anything with you to permanently invade nature. Instead you wrapped your daily essentials in a little bindle. It usually contained a hearty snack, a book or two, endless vials and jars, your cell, and a small emergency kit. Homemade salves, balms, and tonics included. 

You always had some new shiny objects for your crow friends, making sure to exchange the gifts they left for you at your designated spot. And you always made sure to leave some nuts and seeds for the various rodents who liked to stuff their cheeks. Again, you didn't need to, but they really liked sweet black walnuts and salty peanuts in the shells. Who were you to deny them that treat! 

Some days you brought select crystals with you, cleaning and recharging them in the streams of spring water. Other days you'd use that same water, sealing it in jars and leaving it nearby to make moon water overnight. Those were about the only two things you ever left in the forest, always making sure to come back the next day and retrieve them. 

You always carry a little basket with you too. The forest was abundant in ingredients for many different things. Your favorite is mushrooms and fungi. 

There were many times you'd find a log of an oak tree, fallen over and resting on the ground. A bunch of chicken of the woods growing on it. You'd collect them, taking them home to cook for dinner or other meals.

Other days you'd find lion's mane, and make sure to gather some for your favorite tincture to make and take. It did wonders for your anxiety. 

You were a green witch through and through, and you were raised this way. You drew your energy and essence from nature, always taking little bits of it home. 

Today was no different. Forgoing mushrooms, you instead had bundles of mugwort and a jar full of mulberries in your wicker basket. Wrapped in a little cloth were a bunch of spicebush berries.

You were nearing the last clearing within the woods, your house was about a ten minute walk away at this point. 

The soft moss against your bare feet was grounding, and you were listening to the buzz and crackle of nightlife within the forest. Your white skirt ended at your knees, flaring out. The chiffon is blowing in the cool breeze. It was still tshirt weather, and that's exactly what you wore on top. A fitted one, pale and muted ivy green. You gave up on bras long ago, you were a solitary creature anyways. The friends who did visit never cared about your attire.

You were in your own world, playing a balancing game on a stump and humming to yourself, when flashes of red caught your eye. 

In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric. 

Your heart fluttered at this rare find. You walk past this clearing daily, and never noticed any of the red mushrooms with white speckles there before. 

Eagerly, you approach. In the back of your mind, warning bells are going off. Thinking back to childhood, of the stories your mom once told you of the fae folk. You'd encountered fairy rings before, but never of this type of mushroom, and never broken ones. Certainly never one so big. You never breached the little white rings in the past, not wanting to mess with entities so possibly mischievous. 

But it would be fine right? This might not even be considered a fairy ring. It was sort of... circle-ish? But not really. There were so many gaps in between them, it wasn't a perfect circle like you'd seen in the past. And these mushrooms were so rare and so powerful, in so many ways. You could feel their energy radiating around you.

You glanced around, searching for any signs of immortal creatures lurking near. You saw and heard nothing, but that would be typical. They never willingly reveal themselves, in fact... You've never seen one. You've never seen any kind of fae folk. It's not that you didn't believe in them, you were sure some form of them existed. Afterall, you practice a form of magick. Your own form, and that exists. 

You were convinced all mythical creatures either exist or had existed, the idea of them couldn't come from nothing. Not when they were in so many stories across all different cultures. 

You paused for a few more moments, really trying to feel any negative energy. There was none, there was never any in your little forest. 

So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out. 

Nothing.

You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth. 

They all varied in size, some were large with bulbous caps. Some were shorter, and had flatter caps. Each mushroom, you made sure to pick with a cloth barrier between them and your fingers. These could be deadly if used the wrong way or taken in excess. You had no idea what would happen if you came into direct contact with it, on your bare skin. 

You really should start carrying gloves with you.

You made your way around the broken circle, humming in between giggles, and unconsciously dancing. You were nearly prancing each bare step to the next. 

If you had paid more attention to your mothers tales, you'd realize the consequences of stepping inside a fairy ring were already taking effect.

You were collecting more than you needed now, your basket was overflowing. But still, you didn't want to stop. You felt strangely overcome with merriment. You never felt more at home in these woods than this moment. 

You mindlessly set your basket down, your humming growing in volume. You looked to the sky, as you allowed your body to sway back and forth. Arms stretched out towards the waning moon, coming to life in the dark sky surrounding you. 

Your eyes closed, soaking in the moonlight. And you brought your arms back down, letting them float at your sides as you twirled, and twirled. Your skirt flutters up to reveal your thighs even more, hair whipping in your face. You revelled in the feeling of the squishy dirt beneath your feet. You felt grounded, but as if you were flying all at the same time.

You don't know when your solitude was breached, or if you were ever truly alone in the first place, but you finally noticed his presence when his hands intertwined with yours. 

He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles. 

He was nearly glowing, strawberry colored lips revealing the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. His long, straight white hair framed his face stunningly, tendrils of it outlining his strong jaw line. And his face... so, perfect. He had hundreds of freckles splashed across his cheeks, nose and eyes. Even some scattering up to his hairline, and down to his chin. You'd imagine you could create many constellations with them, like the stars that twinkle in the night sky. He adorned various jewelry, all silver. In his ears, and a cuff across the bridge of his nose. He even wore a gorgeous crown that laid across his forehead as a head piece. It was thin, and wiry, made up of gorgeous silver filigree that shone in the moonlight. You knew that the rings you felt in between your fingers would be silver too. 

He wore all white. You couldn't be sure exactly what his outfit was, but his shirt was a flowing lace up top. Revealing delicate collar bones and toned chest. It was mostly a blur in the midst of his movements. 

Your gasp was delayed, only coming out when he pulled you closer to him. Your hand remains in his, while his arm is wrapped around your waist. You were nearly flush with him, feeling the rest of his chiseled torso against your plush body. But he kept your face at some distance to maintain eye contact. The smile never slipped from his lips. 

He has you captivated, and the two of you don't falter in your melodic movements once. His eyes bore into you, dark and sharp. Yet he exuded a certain softness, and you found yourself lost in the moment. It didn't seem real. 

But it was. 

You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. 

You were hearing him. He was humming the same tune you were, an old lullaby your mom used to sing to you. His voice was deep, and even, harmonizing with your breathy high pitched voice beautifully. 

You were feeling him. He was touching you, his hand interlocked with yours. His grip around your waist is gentle but possessive. He held you like he didn't want to break you, but knew if he was too loose, you'd go running. 

Though you weren't so sure you would run. 

Your mind was racing. There's no way you could stumble across a perfect stranger, who was immediately dancing with you, so close to the edge of the forest. So close to your house. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination. A side effect of being surrounded by so many toxic mushrooms. 

The mushrooms. 

That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears. 

His aura, his energy, his perfect pixie-like features. You noticed the point of his ears now, the glittery sheen to his skin. His smile is full of white pointed teeth, dull now, but you could tell they were once sharper in the past. His slight cat-like eyes, giving them that sharp look even though everything else about him screamed delicate.

Your humming stopped, but his didn't. Your mother's voice is filling your head, and you were repeating the words she once told you so long ago. 

'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.' you whispered quietly. 

His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes. 

He finally spoke, his chest vibrating against yours, "Wise words, from a magnificent young lady."

He had an accent, you couldn't quite place it. Something between old english and australian. It made you want to melt. 

He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground. 

You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth. 

"Who are you?" You ask curiously. 

"Who?" He chuckles, "Usually it's 'what are you', that people ask me. Though it's been almost a century since I have revealed myself to a mortal."

A century? Your mouth dries, and you feel something akin to fear course through your veins. But you aren't scared of him for some reason. Wary, suspicious, but not scared. 

"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm." 

You want to get angry at that comment. You'd like to consider yourself well informed and educated on all supernatural and magickal subjects. There'd always be more to learn though, and the human brain simply could not grasp it in its entirety. So he wasn't wrong. 

You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues. 

"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures. 

"You're a fairy?" You whisper, wonder dazzling in your voice.

At that he laughs again, and you swear you hear small chimes behind it.

"An elf. I believe that is the universal name humans gave us. Not all fae are fairies, there are others too." 

As he speaks, he lets go of your hand, bringing his fingers up to brush strands of hair from your face. His touch is warm, for some reason that shocks you. 

"Elf." You repeat, not a question, but a statement.

He hums, in agreement and starts to twirl you around again. His hand resting on your cheek, thumb brushing featherlight touches against it. 

You're trying very hard to wrap your head around the entire scenario. You shouldn't be surprised. You've dealt with other worldly things in the past. Spiritual realms are completely different from anything having to do with the fae world though. 

Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening. 

"Am I being punished?" You lip quivers as you speak, "I-I was just trying to collec-"

He's bringing his head down, his forehead meeting yours. You feel the cold bite of the silver headpiece touching your skin. It's enough to shut you up.

"Shhh, darling. Don't view it as a punishment." 

"I don't want to dance until I pass out." You slowly say, even though your body feels otherwise.

Underneath the initial shock and caution, you still felt that overwhelming happiness. It was borderline euphoric... and strangely arousing. 

Everything happening inside your mind and body right now was so confusing. You were feeling lost, and found yourself clinging to the man--the elf, before you. 

"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children." 

French? This being was a riddle. 

"I don't understand." You force out. 

He leans back a bit, so he can look into your eyes and your thighs clench, "We tell the kids, fae and human, that if a mortal is caught within our rings. They dance to exhaustion. The humans carried this myth with them into adulthood, while our kind later learned the truth of these special rings." 

He's still dancing with you, moving your body elegantly to a now imaginary song. Leading you in something reminiscent of a waltz, but you can barely focus on that when his touches are electric against your skin. 

"The truth?" You ask. 

He's dipping you down now, bending with your body as he once again is peering into your eyes. At first you think it's part of the dance. Until your back meets the land that was underneath your feet. The mixture of smells was potent. The scent of damp moss, and semi-sweet foliage filling your nose. 

He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing." 

The timbre of his voice was pooling wetness in your panties. You felt beads of sweat forming on your brow, and you were bewildered at how your body was reacting right now. It didn't make sense. 

His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again. 

"What better way to set the mood than a passionate dance, and in this case, under the moonlight?"

You whimpered, feeling disoriented and needing his touch. 

"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble. 

He chuckled, and you felt his breath puff against your lips, "It's unimportant darling, but since you're so... alluring. You can call me Felix... I'd love to hear it rolling off your tongue when I make you cum."

You were mewling at the thought of fucking this mystical being, when you felt his lips against yours.

He was almost lazy in the way he kissed you. Seemingly in no rush at all. And it's not that you were complaining, but you wanted more. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his body flush with yours. 

He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access. 

"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more." 

You knew it was absurd to lust after a man--an elf, gods how could you keep forgetting that, that you just met. But your body was burning and it felt like he was your only rescue. 

His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch. 

He had your leg wrapped around him, his hand trailing down the back of your thigh and his lips attached to your neck. He was marking you with what you imagined to be the most beautiful bruises. You were panting at this point, and it felt ridiculous to be this turned on by so little. By a stranger. But it didn't make you want to stop.

His fingers reached the edge of your panties, and you gasped. You felt his smile again, he was enjoying every bit of this. You felt powerless to his strokes against you. Your hips were bucking up, chasing for friction.

His hand gripped your hip tightly, fingers squeezing into your flesh, pinning you further into the dirt. 

You hissed before whining, begging "Please."

"I said be patient." His voice was stern as he spoke against your ear.

It still didn't stop you from squirming beneath him, your mind wasn't registering anything beyond wanting to feel him filling you up. 

He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it. 

"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this." 

He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you. 

"A-aaah!" You were moaning loudly, his movements jarring.

"This is what you wanted darling, isn't it?" He's muttering against your lips now, slipping his fingers into you. 

Your body feels more alive than ever, waves of pleasure washing over you. His fingers skillfully curl inside you, while his thumb works your sensitive bud. Swipe after swipe, eliciting more and more of your arousal onto his hand. 

His kiss is searing, and feels like the only thing currently keeping you anchored to your body. You felt your orgasm building quickly, the band growing tighter and tighter in your stomach. It felt like you'd float away when it snapped. 

You can't contain the lewd noises you're making. Between the moans he's swallowing from your lips, and the loud squelching from between your thighs, it was deafening. Or maybe it was just that your ears were ringing. 

It felt like only seconds later when he brought you over the edge, his movements slowing but never stopping. You're whining, and your legs are trembling but you don't want him to stop. You're nearing over sensitivity and when you close your eyes, you see nothing but stars.

All you can think of are the freckled constellations on his cheek. 

You feel drunk on this moment, and you don't want it to end. It's as if he knows exactly where your mind is when he speaks again.

"You're not done little dove, don't you worry your pretty little head." 

When you open your eyes, and tilt your head up, his shirt and pants are discarded. Revealing a dizzying body. He was lithe yet chiseled. His body is almost dainty, but each muscle is carved in the most irresistible way. His abs were glorious, your eyes trail lower, following the v cut. You notice the faint spattering of a happy trail, and your eyes follow it. 

And fuck.

You've never been one to view someones cock as pretty but... his was. The tip was so swollen and pink, and leaking generous amounts of precum. Faint blue veins prominent along the shaft, and he stood tall and proud. His girth made you wonder if you could handle the stretch. It had been a while since you'd last been intimate. 

He brought his hand, covered in your slick, to his member. Spreading it all over in a mixture with his precum, making it glisten. Your mouth started to water, and your legs spread wider for him. You pulled your skirt completely up, presenting yourself to him. 

His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly. 

"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile. 

There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you. 

Then he was on top of you again, cock sliding into you. Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and you wailed, a mix of pain and pleasure. But it was so satisfying, you couldn't get enough. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, and he was thrusting into you at a brutal pace. 

Your back was digging into the ground, and you started to feel bits of grass and dirt against your skin. You pulled against him, trying to adjust yourself so you could lose yourself in the dance you two were now performing. 

He pulled out of you, and sat back on his knees, that's when you noticed his clothes underneath him. You had no idea he was wearing a cape earlier. It was sprawled out, creating a barrier between him and the ground. 

He picked you up, and positioned you to straddle his lap, facing him. Then he slid back into you, your eyes rolled back, and you let out a filthy moan. 

This position felt more intimate but still desperate, he was reaching deeper into you. The head of his cock pistoning against your g-spot. It felt so good you could cry. 

You were crying, you realized. 

"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?" 

"Yes!" You sob. 

He's wiping the tears from your eyes with his fingers, and smiling at you like you're the most precious thing on this planet. 

"That's right, pretty. So pretty when you cry." He groans out, and his pace grows faster, rougher.

His hand dips down between you, and he's toying with your clit now. In any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed by the way your body uncontrollably trembles. Your muscles are spasming at his touch. You just couldn't bring yourself to care, he was making you feel too good. 

"Darling," He purred, as he slowed his thrusts and pinched your clit between two fingers, rolling it, "I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum for me, can you do that?" 

You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you. 

At that he started fucking into you harshly, almost painfully, and you were coming undone with a loud cry on top of him. Your body tensed, nails digging into his shoulders, struggling not to throw your head back. His hand that was playing with you, gripped your jaw, smearing your own arousal on your face.

He was making sure you kept your word, maintaining your gaze on his while you clenched around him. Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to keep them open. He was biting his lip, eyebrows scrunched together as he fucked you through your orgasm. Watching your face contorted in pleasure. 

"So tight." He grunted.

You were scratching at him now, nails dragging down his shoulders. And your mouth was hung open in a silent scream, your voice having given up on you. 

It was becoming overwhelming. 

You still didn't want it to stop.

"I know you can take it darling, take it." He growled, gripping both your hips now to steady you.

So you did, until you were limp in his arms, and he was releasing into you with a groan. 

Your head was resting on his shoulder. Sweaty skin sticking to each other, and he was soothing you. Humming and stroking your hair gently. You were breathing heavily, trying to come down from this mind blowing experience. But you weren't descending, not mentally. You were still riding that high, stuck in a lust filled haze. 

He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard. 

His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet." 

You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements. 

"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"

"Yes." You breathed.

"I can fix that." 

You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty. 

He was positioning you to lay down on his clothes, taking care that no part of you touched the ground. You just let him handle you, molding your pliant body however he wanted it.

His hands were rubbing down your arms, and he was smiling down at you. When you met his eyes, you couldn't explain the exact emotions you were feeling. You'd let this man take your soul if he asked right now. 

He was licking his lips as his hand trailed back to your core. You gasped again, then whined when he dragged his fingers through your swollen folds. His touch was almost massaging, yet sensual. He was touching everywhere, teasingly avoiding your sensitive bud. 

The more he touched you, the more you writhed. And sensing another comment about how you can't be still or patient, you yanked him down to you so you could kiss him. 

You were tired of just laying there, you wanted to start giving. To start touching.

You didn't know where all this stamina came from, but you were determined to use it. You jerked your hips up, leaning more into his touch. 

It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements. 

He was still slick with your cum. And you used that to give him slow strokes.

He let out a hoarse moan against your lips, before pressing his fingers directly on your clit, rubbing in small circles. He was matching your tempo directly. You whined into the kiss, your hand picking up pace. Pumping him faster now, and he followed your lead. 

Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away. 

He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core. 

"So pretty, even here darling." 

You were blushing at his words, but you couldn't take your eyes off of his, as he stared at you from between your thighs. 

"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove." 

And you felt his tongue lave through your folds. It was gentle and it felt hot, and it drove you crazy. The flicks of his tongue against your clit were maddening, and you wanted more. 

Your hips started slowly moving against his face, and this time he let you. He lets you roll your hips, and grind against his face. His tongue flattened against you, and you slid your hand into his blindingly white locks. You started grinding against him harshly, losing all sense and control of your body and just focusing on climaxing. 

He let himself be used by you, and as your grip in his hair tightened, so did that feeling in your stomach. You felt another orgasm come over you, and he let you ride it out, quite literally.  

You expected to start feeling spent by now, but you didn't. So before he could climb back up your body to kiss you, you were sitting up and pushing him onto his back.

He landed on it with a thud, puffing out air and looking at you incredulously. 

You let the primal urges take over as you lowered yourself onto your stomach, and took his member in your hand. You licked up the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his. He groaned as you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips. 

"Fuck..." He whispered.

"Let me return the favor." You mumbled before you took his tip between your lips.

You let your tongue swirl over it a few times, savoring his taste. He brought his hand down to your face, and pushed your hair back for you. 

You let your tongue run down the underside of his cock, and you sunk your mouth onto him. You had completely engulfed him, and were struggling not to gag. Still, you never intended to stop. 

He was grunting as your head bobbed up and down on him, saliva collecting at the corners of your mouth and dripping down to pool at his pelvis. 

"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned. 

He lets you keep at your own pace for a while longer before he starts thrusting into you. He kept your head in place, and you gagged and tears started running down your cheeks. Each stroke became more and more erratic, until ropes of his hot cum were shooting down your throat. 

He pulled you off of him and you gulped down breaths of air. He was caressing your cheek, swiping a mix of tears, spit and cum from your lips before kissing you. 

That's how you both continued throughout the night. Pleasuring each other, nearly non-stop, under the moonlight. Your mind was fractured, nothing else but him existed inside of it. He'd touched, fondled, massaged, and embraced you, until you could only respond with breathy whispers of his name. 

"Felix..." You sighed, when he was bringing feeling back to your numb legs by massaging them.

"Felix..." You moaned, as he slowly took you as you both laid on your sides.

"Felix..." You screamed as you came undone on top of him, riding him roughly.

He took you in many different positions, and you indulge yourself in each one. When he wasn't fucking you, you were whining in complaint and going down on him. If he wasn't going down on you, he was edging you with his fingers. Your hands never left each other's bodies, always needing connection. You were sure he was just as familiar with your body as you were by this point. 

The exhaustion finally hit when he had you on your back in a mating press. The last thing you remember, is staring up into the twilight sky. Dawn was approaching, the stars were disappearing before your eyes, as the golden glow of the sun started to peek through. 

Your eyes were fluttering as you fought unconsciousness, determined to finish fucking this completely ethereal creature. Felix was barely putting in an effort to fuck you, but he still slid in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, as if he wanted to keep your orgasm at bay. You both wanted to extend this moment in time, but your body wouldn't have that.

When you finally let go, cumming on his cock for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when your eyes shut and you gave into the exhaustion. 

The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to. 

Your bedroom, permanently infused with your favorite scent to burn, that's where you were. The familiar feel of your sheets beneath you, and your heavy comforter confirmed that.  

Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest. 

That's when you feel a body next to you and your eyes shot open.

"Felix?" You croaked, your voice dry and hoarse.

He was laying next to you on his side, in your bed, in your house. 

He had the blankets pulled up to his waist, and was resting his head on his hand. Elbow propped up, so he could see you better. He was shirtless and he wore that same smile on his face, like he was so fond of you.

"Is that still the only thing you can say, little dove?" He whispered teasingly. 

"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches. 

You hiss at the burning sensation you felt between your legs. And your legs, gods, you don't think that they've ever felt so sore. 

"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up. 

He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink. 

You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were. 

"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more." 

"More?" You questioned him.

"I did clean you up last night, I'm not a monster. The bath will help ease your muscles." He chuckled.

"How did you even know where I live?" 

"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles." 

You still felt guarded around him, even after the night you shared. If the stories your mother told you turned out to be partially true, you could only imagine what other lore could turn out to be true. 

Now this mischievous creature knew where you lived, he was in your home.

"I know this is your sacred space little dove, I don't intend to intrude. However, I couldn't exactly leave you in the state you were in. How are you feeling? Is your head a little clearer?" He spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your hair. 

It is. Almost all of that dazed feeling was gone, you felt more lucid. In that clarity though, a rush of embarrassment hit you. You felt your skin heat up at the more clear memories of last night. 

You were never the type for hookups or one night stands, yet the things you did with this perfect stranger... This perfect magickal stranger... they felt unspeakable. You'd never lost yourself so completely in someone else's presence, much less with your own... sessions. 

You hide your face in your hands and rub at your temples, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Of your own feelings. You didn't exactly regret it or hate it. Something still felt off. Not only was the entire act abnormal in general, and downright questionable. But it was so out of character for you. Did he use... compulsions? Did he have that type of magick?

"Thinking too hard will just exhaust you more." He said.

"Look..." You sigh, as you turn to face him, "I'm a little lost here, I don't know what to make of this all." 

Next thing you know, he's off the bed. He's picking you up in his arms, and you notice you're both still nude. Your face flushes again at that, and you struggle a bit in his arms.

"Be calm darling, I'm just taking you to the tub. We can talk about it all." 

You let him place you in the tub, and then he's sliding in behind you. Slotting you between his legs. He's pulling you back towards him, so you lay against his chest. You both sit like that for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the bath and getting used to each other in a new type of intimate way.

You should be kicking him out of your house. You should be cussing him out. Defending yourself, but why didn't you feel the need to defend yourself against him? Why were you drawn to him? 

When you think about the facts, some would say you were attacked last night. I mean there's a reason the Fae call it a punishment You didn't feel attacked though. You enjoyed yourself, as crazy as that is to say. 

You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent. 

How do you come to terms with actually feeling okay with this whole thing, when you knew you shouldn't be?

"You're a witch, right?" He suddenly asks you, breaking your train of thought. 

"I am... though I'm beginning to question the validity of that title, seeing as I have an actual magical creature behind me." You mumble. 

You knew the magick you practiced was real. You could feel it. It's not like you could create fire though, or move things, or transfigure things in front of you. You weren't even sure Felix could do any of that as an elf. You weren't sure of anything anymore. 

You felt like you were entering an existential crisis. Panic was starting to settle within you when you felt his chest vibrate with laughter, it was an oddly soothing sensation that you know you've felt before.

"No, you are. I can sense it, it's in your blood. It took me a while to piece it together, but you are a witch through and through. Sometimes humans don't know of their tie to the magickal world, but I figured... from your altar, among other objects and ingredients I've noticed here, that you knew." 

You hummed, your mother always told you that you were a part of a long line of witches. She raised you heavily within her practice. You never doubted her, but somehow this new revelation made it so much more real. You realize this was opening a whole new aspect in your own practice. A hidden world, seemingly waiting for your return.

"Is that why you came to me? Because you sensed a witch was near?" You questioned him, your hands playing with the water. 

"No, you stepped inside my fairy ring. I have to say I was shocked. I placed it in, what I thought was, an inconspicuous area. I hadn't realized your home was nearby."

"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain." You sighed. 

"Well... you already know what I told you yesterday. The stories you were told, were passed down by your ancestors and other mortals in general. You don't really just dance in fairy rings, that's a small fib we tell the children. As more human children found the rings, when we'd find them dancing. We'd send them off, warning them if they came in again that we would have them dancing until they faint. When our own children wandered into them curiously, we'd tell them the same thing until it became time for them to learn. It's just something stupid the ancestors came up with, I don't know... It does always start out with a courting dance though, but the main reason for them is, inside a fairy ring... you mate. They're essentially a part of an ancient mating ritual."

At that you nearly jumped up to smack him, but he was a step ahead of you. His arms tightened around your body, pinning your arms to your chest. 

"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-" 

"Please, calm down little dove. It's not possible for me to actually breed you. That requires an entirely different ritual, one that hasn't been performed in centuries. I'm not even sure anyone would know how to perform it these days..." He trails off. 

"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech. 

"They're not traps, and they're not meant for humans." He says defensively, and you can hear the pouting in his tone, "Think of it like this. You know how some penguins build big and pretty nests to attract a mate? It's kind of like that. It's a lot to explain in detail, and I had to create one. Now that I'm of age, it's expected of me to find a partner. Even if I don't find the need to." 

"And why do they exist in this realm if they're not meant for us?"

"Well, a long time ago, back when there was only this realm, and there were more Fae than humans, they came across one. That fairy was so angry at the human for intruding on something so intimate of his, and he threatened the human with a punishment. Before any of the other Fae could stop him, he entered the ring. When they both were inside of it, they were overcome with the magic of the ring. The courting dance had started, and no one else was able to enter. The desire for each other grew. In his anger he must've forgotten what the ring's intention was, and was only focused on punishing the human. But he never got that far. They ended up... mating. They never separated from that night, spending their lives together. It was millenia ago. It created an uproar though. Our kinds had never joined before that way."

You sat and listened, calming down a bit as he told you this story.

"There were battles, not an outright war but there might as well have been. They grew to love each other, and they led the winnings of those battles to stay together. They opened the door for Fae and humans to be together, but it has always been frowned upon from both sides."

There was an entire history of this world that you had never known. One that you could never even imagine to be true. But it is. Before your mind let you delve into it though, you thought back to something he said.

"Overcome with magic? These rings hold compulsions over beings?" You questioned hastily, needing to confirm your suspicions. 

"No. It's not like that..." He sighed, "Didn't you feel different last night?" He continues, "The mushrooms release something like a pheromone. An aphrodisiac, to enhance your sexual stamina. Among other mood boosting and energy boosting properties. It starts by uplifting your mood, making you feel the happiest you've ever been. Then you start dancing, your energy building up in preparation for what's to come. It's not until your partner enters that the aphrodisiacs start releasing. But it doesn't just take away your consent like that. Both parties have to be willing... it needs to be mutual. Though that's not to say that's not how every instance turns out. Evil exists in all realms." 

You shivered at his words, trying to process everything. You could clearly remember the primal urges taking over, the need to constantly be filled. It explained that off feeling, why you were acting so out of character. But you couldn't deny that you had wanted it. 

Craved it. 

You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent. 

He started talking again, "That's why I couldn't just leave you there. Especially not in that forest, where other creatures lurk and might find you. I never felt anything dark there, but that doesn't mean it won't come along. I brought you home. I cleaned you up, I made you drink because you were getting dehydrated. I cared for you."

He was loosening his grip around you to rub your shoulders. It made you think back to the skilled massages he gave you last night, in between all of the sex. He made sure to take care of you the whole night it seemed.

"But none of this answers my question from earlier, why not place the rings in your own realm now? Why would any of the Fae place them here?" You asked.

"There are many different reasons..." He mumbled, "Some of them do it because they want to experience sex with a willing human. Some of them do use them as traps for humans, and those Fae are disgraceful, downright evil. Most of those types have been banished from the realm I come from. But some are like me. We try to hide them, from everyone. Because even though we're required to have them, we don't want to use them."

Then you thought back to his previous words, "Wait... 'find your partner' you said? Are we- do we have some sort of bond now?"

The silence was thick in the air. You waited for him to speak, but he didn't, so you turned around in the tub to face him. Your legs spread out on top of his, as you half straddled his lap. 

His eyes stared into yours, expressionless. It was much colder than his usual warm aura, so you grabbed his hand to hold it, and asked again in a softer tone, "Do we?" 

"We don't have to. It's not permanent. Most Fae who get humans within their rings leave them there once they've passed out anyways. Humans don't have the same stamina as we do, even with their boosted energy from the ring. The first woman passed out, that's where the ancestors got their silly tale from." He spoke tightly, like he was debating even revealing this bond at all. 

"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all. 

Not much made sense. In a span of hours you found out the true existence of a hidden realm, and these magickal creatures. You met one, you slept with him, then you actually slept with him, and now you bathe with him. You talk with him, as if all of this is a normal day.

It should all unsettle you more than it actually does. You should be freaking out, 100% meltdown level. This is the story of fairy tales, and maybe not a good one. This could be the big bad wolf and you could be little red riding hood. But somehow, you were comfortable in his presence. Comfortable enough to want to spend more time with him. To learn more, about him, his world, and this new bond. 

So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck. 

"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is." 

His eyes lit up with hope, and his charming smile returned to his face. The thought that you could wake up every day to that smile entered your head quicker than you could blink.

You'd figure something out. You had to. He couldn't leave your life now. Not when it seemed like it was just getting started thanks to him.

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv

@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu

@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd

@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties

@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @irrevocable-exposure

As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡

But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

[karlachismylife]

Wrote the intro the day I started this work and decided to leave it since it reflects the shitstorm in my head quite well, eh.

Okay Idk what it is with me today (I actually do know, I'm having a bad fucking night as a consequence of my own actions but I prefer not to think about it), but I just thought about task force 141 and reader that has such a bad withdrawal after their orgasm that they actually cry and not in a fun way (cue my lack of understanding how crying in bed can ever be fun, but i'm not here to kinkshame)

CW: NSFW (so minors and ageless blogs DNI, I'll block you), but there's barely any sex, hurt/comfort, body image issues, low self-esteem, chubby/fat!reader, written with afab!reader in mind (but most parts can be read as gn), potential mental health issues (?), thoughts of selfloathing and selfharm, smoking mentioned once at the end. Very self-indulgent and I'm definitely unwell, so yeah. It's also more focused on reader's inner shitstorm than the guys in many places so idk if this even really is enjoyable...

Starts as a single piece, then splits into individual blurbs/drabbles/oneshots + some polyamory cuz I'm spoiling myself today having done nothing to deserve it, lol.

They vary in size and tone since I've been writing them through several ups and downs in my own mental state, so please don't take this as a sign of which characher/combo is my favourite. I'm greedy, I like everything.

This is unfair.

Like, you just had wonderful sex, probably came more than once in a short period of time, ears stuffed with cotton, limbs weak, head spinning... and it keeps spinning, sweet tingling on the skin turning into nasty rushes of cold, muscles too tense, but it's not a cramp.

You feel like shit, every possible hormonal and neuromediator crash downing on you, a hollow, depressing weight in your chest instead of a sweet afterglow. Sweat and cum feel disgusting on you skin, your skin feels disgusting, strangling, your whole body seems revolting, too heavy, too sluggish. A sticky, suffocating heatwave on your nape, but your chest is cold and covered in goosebumps, a feverish feeling clogging every pore. Nausea wrenches into your stomach and stops just before you can relievingly barf and get rid of this parasite inside.

You simply want to dig your nails into your own shoulders instead of his and rip the skin and meat off, free yourself from this burden (you're the burden). Each second as he stays blissfully unaware, holding you tightly with his big hands and panting into the crook of your neck, drags on like a hundred hours of pure torture - the torture of being yourself.

Throwing up feels like an appropriate reaction to how unappealing and ugly you feel.

You're spiraling. You couldn't fucking keep your own messed up emotional outburst - completely unreasonable and unprovoked, by the way - to yourself, and now it's going to be noticed. You'll ruin someone else's fun. Make it all about yourself when you've already been nothing but doted on, cared and provided for. Fucked so good that your body is still clenching around that magnificent cock deep inside you.

And you're fucking crying, like an ungrateful, egotistical brat. Never having enough, unable to provide something as simple as a hole to make someone else happy without fucking it up.

Ghost notices immediately. There's nothing that can escape this man, and definitely not his love's distress. He's not reacting immediately for a sole reason: he's frozen in fear, horrified that he made you cry. How - he's not sure, he always takes great care to stay within limits, never allows himself to push you further than you both agree on. But what if he slipped up? What if he got carried away? Did he cause pain? Did he say something hurtful in the heat of the moment?

"Fuck. Hey, hey, lovie... look at me... wha's wrong? Did I... did I hurt ya?" Good thing you're hiding your face and your red eyes so desperately that you can't see how distressed and downright terrified Simon looks, lost at the sight of your tears. When you shake your head and attempt to push him away to hide your pathetic sobbing, he somewhat calms down and brings his big calloused hands to cradle your face, gently prying your own palms away and holding your puffy cheeks tenderly. His thumbs brush your tears away as he holds you, holds you through the growing rage fit of touch aversion, through the shudders and actual wailing. At some point he moves his palm to cover your eyes, a dry, dark blinder to keep the world around you shut out, help you concentrate on his voice.

He's not talking, just humming, a familiar, deep, grumbling noise that soothes all the flashes of anger, hate and disgust in your brain. You're tired now, like you're always are after such an intense outburst, and as you go limp, he finally pulls away, only to pick you up - barely a strain, a direct spit in the face of your own insecurity - and bring you to the bathroom. A warm shower evens your distorted body temperature out, his hands running over your body and cleaning all the stickiness away bring back peace with your own skin. After a quick rinse Simon holds you, your head cradled against his chest, until you make a weak attempt to help him wash too - he lets you trace his body, that perfection you adore with all its old wounds, sores and scars, for a bit, and then finishes himelf.

Gives you fresh cotton underwear and his hige T-shirt, still holding you around your shoulders and keeping the comfortable pressure even while he changes the bedsheets, kissing your temple as you find it in yourself to help.

It's only after you settle on top of him, nice, clean comforter protecting your back against the world, head on his chest right next to his heart beating in a steady rythm, he finally breaks silence.

"Need anything else, lovie?" Just like that. No prying, no occusations, nothing that would put you on the spot. You can ask him to bring you the moon soaked in unicorn's milk, and he'll just nod, kiss your hand and start dressing up, already calling Johnny to ask where the fuck did Scots hide their last horned horse and if he happens to know where they enlist astronauts.

"Just you."

His grip on the small of your back tightens and you feel his uneven, scarred lips graze the top of your head.

"Ya've got me. Always."

Soap is running hot like a furnace, still shivering and panting after what he considers the best sex he has ever had (every time with you is). He lifts his face, buried into the crease of your neck previously, and starts peppering you with slightly sloppy, grateful kisses - your neck, your jaw, your lips, your...

When he tastes your tears and opens his unbelievably blue eyes to see your expression contorted in disgust, he panics. Pulls away immediately, hands both itching to grab you and shake a reason for that look on your face out of you and too scared to touch you in case this hatred is directed at him.

"Whit's wrong, leannan? Are ye a'right? Ye didnae lik' it? Shite, lass, Ah'm so sorry, Ah didnae mean tae-" He stops yapping only when he notices the way your lips tremble as you try to plead with him, sobbing that it's not his fault.

"'M sorry, I ruined it... I'm so sorry, sushine, I just... fuck I wish I wasn't so bloody sick in the head and ugly..." Speaking out loud only worsens your anger, directed solely at yourself, and you try to wipe your eyes furiously. As the tears keep rolling, your frustration only grows - maybe if you yanked your own hair really good or slapped the disgusting pudgy cheek you've despised ever since chidhood as everyone kept pointing out how big they were...

"Ye didnae just call the love of mah fucking life ugly." Johnny's voice is a mix of a harsh order to cut your bullshit and pure disbelief. His huge paws wrap themselves around your wrists, stopping you both from harming yourself and covering your face. You're forced to look at him, and as you do, you see his handsome face flushed with a passionate anger at the intrusive thoughts in your head, heavy frown in his thick eyebrows and the sea in his eyes dark and deep enough to drown a whole fleet. You'd be scared if it wasn't obvious how hurt he is underneath it all - like a kid whose favourite plushie just got mocked by his classmates.

"It's just a toy," adults would say, and they would be bloody wrong.

"Tis not a toy, tis mah friend."

You're his friend. His love. His heart, his soul, his everything - he whispers that frantically, kissing you over and over, hot palms running over your body, wiping the cold, the stickiness, the goosebumps away. You don't have time to think, to spiral again, you're drowning in that exact sea that's spilling from his eyes, staring at you with pure devotion - a sea of affection, admiration, love, love, love.

Johnny nuzzles up to you like an animal seeking comfort, hides into your chest, right after he kisses your sweaty double chin, breathes in deeply, lets go of your soft shoulders only to grab two handfuls of your tummy, kneading it, warming up the stale blood, squeezing your big thighs between his and getting lost in the frenzy - he honestly doesn't even remember already that he was comforting you, he's fully in the worshipping mode, leaving you no chance to dip even a single toe into the self-conscious thoughts again.

You'll just have to stay there, every single tear lapped up from your face, and accept every greedy touch and word of a man utterly in love with you. Even the messed up parts.

Gaz keeps his cool despite how distraught even the thought of your sadness makes him. First of all he moves aside to give you space, makes sure you're not hurt, asking in his usual kind - unbelievably kind, so much that you burst into tears again, feeling undeserving of such unapologetically soft treatement, tone.

"Shh, shush, gorgeous, you're not hurt, are you? It's okay, c'mere, jus-st like tha', very good, love," praises keep spilling from his tender lips as he carefully helps you sit up, simply dragging you away from the damp from sweat and everything else spot on the sheets. He ends up balancing half his bare ass off the edge of the bed, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest as he feels you already coming back from that hopeless place as soon as your body gets stuck between clean, dry and a bit cool sheet and Kyle's firm lean body of a litearal god - or a prince, at least.

His deft fingers are already at work, massaging your scalp, chasing the tension away, but the second he feels you grow uncomfortable with the repetitive movement, he stops and retreats to simply holding you in a steady, reliant embrace. You know he's good with his words, that's how he got you, swept off your feet completely and made you swoon with sweet compliments, hilarious snark and smart talk.

You just don't expect him to do it all over again in the face of your burdened mind crumbling in the paradise.

"Talk to me, angel. Let me inside that pretty head, hm?"

It takes this sweettalker just a couple of words to coax whatever that ugly, slimy knot in your throat is, out. You sob, retelling Kyle every single thought that has been stuck in that coagulated mess in your head, spill the bile that has been burning your retching throat, out in the open, for him to see the disgusting ugliness of your insides - matching your outside.

Somehow throughout your choking trade his soft, careful hand never leaves your back, rubbing circles of different radius and intensity into your skin to keep the aggression at monotonous touch at bay.

"Must've been some terrible person to overbear your spirit and plant all those lies in your mind, angel." You don't catch the meaning of his words at first, glancing at him confused and whoozy after you exploded with self-deprication. Those dark, calm eyes look at you no different than before: quiet, calm reverence and determination. A thread of spider's silk, thin as a hair, but stronger than steel, his love does not waver. Were you in the right state to actually pay attention, you would've seen it only grow.

"Well, beautiful, this isn't how I planned to start writing poetry, but since you insisted... maybe I can think of a diss track about you."

"A diss track?.." Poor you, so upset that you can't catch onto the mischievous glint in his eyes and that silly smooth sarcasm slipping into his words. You're actually half a step away from believing he would diss you, destroying that already non-existent self-esteem once and for all.

"Yup. Gotta diss-tract you from all that bullshit in your head for good. Unless you'd rather me fuck it out of you instead?"

You cannot not smile at that, even if it's a weak, timid smile. Kyle's face still lights up as if he sees an actual angel, bringing the good grace or whatever.

"There ya go. First step of the mission? Success. Permission to continue? I repeat, permission to continue?"

"You spend too much time with Simon. Permission granted..."

Price undrstands what's going on before he even hears your first sob, the tension in your body and the change in your breath telling him all he needs to know. There's enough experience in this man for the both of you, he has learnt to read people and immediately accomodate them in a way that serves a common goal so long ago that it's a secong nature already.

Your comfort is that common goal.

With a grunt, he rolls you over, planting you firmly on top of his warm, burly body. Untucking your head from his hairy chest, he holds your face and does not let you concentrate on anything but his stern, focued gaze under those bushy eyebrows - but there's still that undeniable tenderness in his eyes that's always there whenever John looks at you.

His voice sounds usual too: a calm, commanding, but not harsh tone, not a loud bark any of his subordinates would hear, yet still an order. "Look at me, darling. Tha's right, look at me, look at your John. You shut whatever's going through that troubled mind of yours out and let me take care of the rest, a'right? Can you do that for me, darling? I know you can. I'll do all the thinking for ya, eh?"

Giving control over to him feels natural at any other moment, but right now you're too deep in the trenches of the war with your own mind, hissing at you with pure disgust for being so selfish. Really, now? Had to use this sweet, caring man for your own needs, and now you're dumping all your perverted, fucked up baggage on him too?

"Nuh-huh, ya're still thinking. Told ya to cut if off. You know that's not you thinking right now, dontcha? You're a smart one, love, ya know shit like this happens. And when shit happens, who are you going to to deal with it, huh?" His deep voice rumbles in his chest, seeps into your clogged ears, fills your skull with the unyielding determination and leaves no room for your own dark thoughts.

When you hesitate to answer, John slides his rough palms over your back, tracing your soft rolls and landing onto the pudge of your hips, squeezing lightly to remind you who's in charge and what your task is. "Who is there for ya to deal with shit that happens, hm, darling? Need ya to tell me."

You want to hide, escape his demand for an answer, but he keeps you firmly in his embrace, a gaze of steel unmoving from you. It almost makes you tear up again, almost feels mean of him to put you on the spot, when all you want to do is curl up in a dark corner and stay there for all eternity. But the love you have for this man overpowers even the seething hatred you bear for yourself, so you give up and murmur meekly: "You..."

"Tha's right, darling, it's your John. I'm here to deal with everything that bothers ya. Everything, ya hear? Tha's me job. Your job is to stay wit' me 'n' not overthink, eh? Especially not when it's just hormons making ya feel bad." You have nothing else left to do, other than sniffle into his chest and melt under a warm kiss he plants on your crown. "How about a cuppa, eh, darling? And something just as sweet as ya for a bite. Ya'll feel better in no time, I promise."

Ghost and Soap cancel each other's panicking out. As soon as both you and Simon slip out of the sweet afterglow, falling backwards each into your own pit of self-doubt and spiraling, Johnny starts babbling, terrified at the thought of both his beloved people feeling worse after being with him. His slurred, panting words and frantic kisses help Simon shake of his own horror - in return, he squeezes Johnny's shoulder to slow the worried mutt down and redirect his energy into helping you. Soap tenses up under the firm touch of his Lieutenant, then relaxes again, leaning into him for a moment to collect himself - they charge from each other, mere seconds of feeding off each other's energies in the middle of a time-limited mission with the highest stakes: your well-being.

They exchange glances, no words needed after the way their work together almost makes them mindreaders to each other, and turn back to you as you lay there, face painfully contorted in an attempt to keep the black foamy bile you feel rising in your throat from spilling. Slow, sticky, angry tears run down your flabby cheeks, and with each millimetre they go, your scalding wish to gouge your eyes out with your bare hands grows, just to punish yourself for being ungrateful after two perfect men spent so much of their time making you feel good.

"Dinnae cry, bonnie. Ye're a'right, ye're 'ere, wit' us. Right, LT? We're nae gonnae let ye marinate in whitevur got ye so upset." The pressure from inside your body that threatened to burst you open into a messy explosion of bile and rot, gets evened out from outside by Johnny's tight hug. He squeezes you up to the painful point, cradling against his broad chest, holding the fort while Simon leaves the bed, but not without kissing both your palms and holding them against his lips until he feels the cold leave your fingertips.

"Oi, Johnny. Help lovie get in 'ere," he calls out several minutes later out of the bathroom. Soap, who has been holding you and allowing you to sob against his heart this whole time, stroking your sweaty hair and murmuring every word of love he knows, scoops you up immediately. He pads over with you in his arms to where a warm bath is already filled thanks to Simon, and when you react to the temperature with another wave of tears, they both reach out to the tap simultaneously.

"Is tha' a'right, bonnie?" You make a strangled noise as Johnny finally sets you down into much cooler now water. It soothes you, makes you feel instantly cleaner, smaller, lighter. Breathing gets easier, that swollen blob of anger and disgust shrinking down in your chest and allowing you to inhale bathroom's damp air normally. You open your mouth to apologize and get cut off before even a single syllable leaves your mouth.

"Don't," Simon's voice sounds gruff, but even his murky reflection in the rippling water looks genuinely soft towards you. They're both perched on the cold bath edge, naked and seemingly not caring about that at all. "Jus' let us take care of you, yeah, love? Tha's what we're here for. Tha's what we want to do."

"Well, actually, there's one more thing," Johnny interjects, causing you to finally lift your sullenly lowered head and look at him, Simon's big palm using this moment of distraction to press onto your back in silent support. "Can Ah make ye a foam beard? Please, bonnie? Ye jus' 'ave the prettiest sweetest cheeks fur tha'."

Soap and Gaz feel like their world is sinking into a whirlwind of stormy clouds, the kind that sucks all light out of sky in mere seconds and can't be cut through even by blinding flashes of lightnings. There is no sun in their skies if you're not smiling, and the sound of your muffled sniffles hits their eardrums harder than thunder or explosions. The frowns distorting their faces only make you more self-aware of the fact that you ruined things between you - the initial hysteria starts rapidly flowing into complete shutdown, threatening to turn you into an emotionless shell for unknown period of time, when several warm, big hands intervene and cut the depressing trajectory down at its root.

"Damn, we did a shit job fucking all your thoughts out, didn't we, angel?" Kyle's joke sounds soft, teasing, but empathetic, ready to be met with sobs or silence instead of the usual laughter that flashes your teeth at him and makes his own smile grow brighter.

"Aye, we did. If anythin', Ah think we put more thoughts intae 'er instead," Johnny scratches his head dramatically, and then you feel his big, hot palm on you sweaty forehead, as if he's trying to get a feel of the thoughts inside your skull. It doesn't linger there for long, though, rough fidgety fingers digging into your hair and tugging at the roots. This makes the hot-and-cold collar around your nape unclench, uncouth and chaotic massage confidently pulling every ounce of anger out of your brain. From time to time his calloused palm slips lower, squeezing your scruff, wiping the cool sweat away and taking control over what seems to have escaped your own.

"How does it feel to be the first person to get knocked up mentally, love? Having any cravings yet? Feeling your brainworms kick yet?" Dry cotton comforter suddenly covers your exposed to be looked at with disdain body, and before you can choke out a protest and something about you being sweaty and sticky and disgusting, Kyle grips your shoulders firmly, rubbing up and down as he slowly helps you sit up a bit.

"Ye eejit, how dae ye think thay can kick? They're brainworms, thay dinnae hae any legs!" The sheer passion in Johnny's heated counterarguement does the impossible - makes the corners of your deeply upset mouth twitch against all the weight the sadness put on them. Your knights in shining (from all the sweat your lovemaking covered them with) armor of their own warm skin seem to not notice the slightest twitch of your lips - there's no excessive attention drawn to you, none of them puts you on the spot. Their touch isn't going anywhere, but it almost seems mindless, simply their need to have something soft and pleasant to squeeze in their restless hands. "'N' wasnae Mary th' first lassie tae get up th' duff through th' heid?"

"That wasn't mentally, that was spiritually, read your books, Soap," scoffs Kyle, as if it was the most obvious thing, and ducks just in time to avoid a pillow thrown at him with sniper's precision.

"Oi, ye sayin' Ah cannae read now?!" Whatever snarky retort Kyle was ready to shoot, gets wiped out as Johnny tackles him, barely avoiding pushing all three of you off the bed. Their scuffle consists of chokeholds and sneaky kisses, legs getting caught in the sheets and somehow tangling you into the mess too.

Until you laugh, finding yourself squished into Johnny's hairy chest with Kyle in a gently headlock somewhere under your arm.

"Hey, hey, careful, mate, our lovie's expecting, we can't just throw 'her 'em around!" However obvious that deflection is, Johnny reacts as if you were actually with child and grabs your face, boring his eyes into yours, slowly widening his two blue lochs in pretend horror.

"Och naw! Ah think we lost 'em, Ah cannae see nothin' there now!" Flushed after the playfight, you avert your gaze, still a trace of self-consciousness about yout outburst somewhere deep inside, but none of the "brainworms" that clogged your insides in sight indeed. Johnny's little drama earns him a soft nip on his thumb from you, and he smiles at you, clearly satisfied with the effect their little scheme had.

"Aw, damn, and here I was, ready to hear the pitter-patter of 'em little feet," Kyle's warm lips somehow find their way to kiss your temple, eliciting another shy giggle.

A pillow crashes onto both of you with the force of a small bombshell.

"THAY DINNAE HAE FEET, GARRICK, THAY'RE WORMS!"

Price and Gaz fall into their usual ways seamlessly, responsibilities and tasks split between the two seemingly without even any verbal communication. Clearing out the space around you with the same quick efficiency they clear out enemies with, they prop you up on some pillows, assess your condition in case they got carried away and hurt you, and finally settle on both sides of you, warm hands on your knees squeezing softly.

"Are ya gonna talk to us now, lovie? Or will we have to use interrogation tactics to learn what made our love so upset?" John's voice bears no trace of threat, but it still makes you cower and try to take up even less space that your curled up body already has, which earns you a sigh from the Captain. "I see. Take over from here, Sergeant. I expect results once I return."

The matress sighs with relief a Price's weight leaves it, bare feet padding a few steps before he reaches his slippers and leaves the room. The pit that the sound of your bedroom's door closing opens in your chest is crushing your ribcage with the iron fist of vacum. You can't blame John for not willing to deal with your bullshit, but the hearbreak only reenforces the choking smog in your head that's rasping in a hundred different voices that the only thing you deserve is pure repulsion.

Kyle's soft thumb pads wipe the tears teetering on the arrows of your lashes, and in a smooth movement you find your face cupped and pulled close to his shoulder. His smooth skin sticks to your wet cheek and you find yourself crying like a little kid, the unbearable pain of the revolting dark knots inside somehow replaced with surprisingly more bearable grief over what you consider an ending reltionship. Perhaps John leaving our bed finally shattered your heart, letting the ungodly pressure out and allowing it to beat - and bleed - again.

"We'd really like if ya talked to us, angel. Don't think Captain can stand there bare-ass naked much longer, might catch rheumatism at this point, he's not getting younger, you know..."

"I hope you know I can hear you perfecrly clear, Garrick." You stop mid-sniffle, eyes snapping to the closed door. You can finally see the shadow of a man standing just outside, and the air slowly feels with some flavour you can't distinguish through all the snot yet, but seem to like a lot...

"Good, so your hearing's still intact, sir. You're in good shape," Kyle's cheeky remark must've broken John's famous patience and restraint, because the bedroom door finally opens, and you see him there. With a tray with a whole bunch of tea mugs and little plates of treats balanced in his hands.

"Still not talking? Well, we'll try another method then, lovie. Sandwich for your thoughts, eh?"

His cheeks are round with a kind smile, confusing your tortured mind even further - Kyle uses your stupor to fetch John's big, slightly scratchy bathrobe, successfully wrapping you into a cocoon of grounding stimulation all over your feverish skin. With a huff and a grumble about staying butt-naked a bit longer, John puts a pleasantly warm mug into your hands and looks at you, arms crossed and tucked into his armpits now that he got rid of the tray.

Expecting an answer.

"'M sorry..." seems appropriate right up to the moment when a little finger-sandwich gets shoved into your mouth. The bread is soft, nice, salty ham and crunchy cucumber filling your senses and cracking a bit fat line of light right in the middle of the dense cloud in your thoughts.

"Try again, love," Kyle gives a hint and wipes a crumb off your lips, licking it off his thumb. "We don't need an apology, we just want to know what's troubling ya. John, tell 'em."

"Already did," grumbles Price in response and clears his throat, sitting back down on the creaking bed. "Food's working though. Eat up, darling, get your energy. Then we'll talk properly, a'right?"

You chew slowly, still stiff in your own body, but regaining control gradually. Yes. Then you'll talk.

Ghost and Price exchange a single glance over your from, choking on the self-destructive rage, and John shakes his head so slightly that one can barely notice, but it's clear enough to stop Simon from tumbling down the traumatic spiral staircase of his own. Grounded by his Captain's presence, he shrugs his broad shoulders, shaking off the creeping up feeling of his own monsterous nature, and rolls onto his back, pulling you out of the miserable wet ball of wrinkled sheets and onto his firm lap, sideways, his big palms resting comfortably around your hips; he's not squeezing or digging his fingers into the fat like he usually does, but it's a secure hug you can't really escape.

Exposed held too far away from his chest you could hide on, you shrink, rising your shoulders protectively and trying to cover up your soft belly, spilling over your pelvis in a shapless manner - that's when John's arms come from behind, catching yours and instead of pulling away forcefully, simply repeating your own safety cocoon, hiding your body from your distorted sight and keeping you warm.

"You're not thinking straight right now, darling," every phrase he murmurs gently, calmly, convincingly into your ear is accompanied by a little kiss, beard tickling and burning your already irritated by tears skin. "So good for us, so kind. Can you spare some of that kindness for yourself?"

Even though it doesn't sound like a rhethorical question, Simon cups your cheek and shushes you tenderly, pressing his thumb to your lips, allowing John to continue with his little speech aimed to dispel the storm coagulated in your chest.

"'Cos if not, it's a'right, love. We know it's hard, and ya're doing good already. Ya 'ave us, eh? To love ya, to cherish ya. No need to overthink, jus' let us hold you, a'right?"

He finally pushes you onto Simon's chest, his big heart stuttering with worry as you seek shelter among his many scars that paint a horrifying picture once you put all the fragments together.

"How'd you do that, sir?" Simon's voice sounds vulnerable - so much that it strikes through all the layers of your egocentric self-hatred and shifts you almost immeditely into a completely different mindset; one where you throw your whole self into loving your scarred and battle-worn men in such abundance that it's ought to compensate for all the unfairness they've gone through.

There's no need for it now, you realize a little too late: Price is there, keeping Simon away from the darkness. They're fine. Better than ever. It's a distraction, a trick, a play to make your bleeding heart stop the internal self-destruction and turn to healing.

A sly little switch you're not sure they were planning to flip, but it worked.

"Hm?" As if emerging from the depths of his thoughts in response to Simon's question, John caresses your cheek as gently as his rough thumb can and then smiles, maybe catching onto the change in your mood or simply remembering all the times he pulled Ghost out of the same gloom and darkness. "Jus' taking care of me own, Simon. Tha's what a Captain does, no? Now, love, how about a shower? I reckon we can squeeze in all together and papmer you really good, what do ya say, eh?"

Ghost and Gaz manage to keep their cool. Kyle's confident and gentle presence serves to reassure any doubts Simon has about hurting you, he shoots a single glance at his sergeant and recieves support immediately. Two pair of hands cradle you with all the tenderness two soldiers are capable of, which is always enough to drown you in fully. It's a tight hug, a hot mess of limbs, too much skin on skin contact that makes your brain flare with undirected rage, but as seconds trickle by and you're still trapped between two firm bodies, you have no choice but to slip into the exhaustion phase of your outburst.

It's not pleasant, nor could you say you feel calm; if anything, you just petrify, a permanent frown on your face and blindly staring forward glass eyes. You're tired, you'd still rather be anywhere but inside your own body that still feels like a useless deformed bag that should be gutted and emptied to lighten up, inner layer of your skin scrubbed with a knife to peel off the suffocating thickness of fat trapping this heated rage inside...

Instead, you get a kiss.

It's Kyle, soft, full lips touching your wet with tears cheekbone, then again - your temple, your cheek, the overheated spot behind your ear. They're light, soft kisses, too gentle to be playful or arousing. Calming. They do not demand anything in return - he allows you to stay in your inner world where you feel secure, even pauses to kiss Simon the same way right in front of your eyes. A silent demonstrationg of the love and reverence these pecks carry, Simon's hooded eyes fluttering shut as if his own compartmentalized demons get exorcised by Garrick's touch.

"Wanna talk about it, angel?" Kyle's voice rumbles at a nice, grounding, smooth timbre, and your still-too-slow mind struggles to grasp how is it possible that he's talking and you're still getting kisses - until you recognize the uneven texture of Simon's scarred lips, trailing along your skin tenderly. "Whenever you're ready, love. But we would love to know what's going through your head right now."

It feels strange to say it out lound when you're held and caressed like this, but their kisses and solid embrace cleared your windpipe enough of the mental gunk for you to be able to speak.

"I hate myself... 'M disgusting, and-" A displeased grumbling kiss from Simon interrupts you, and even Kyle pushes his huge shoulder to reprimand his own Lieutenant for the interference. Kisses his temple immediately to make amends, though, and turns back to you, prompting you to continue.

"Wot? Don't like when someone talks shit 'bout mine," grumbles Simon like a dog that got flicked on the nose for growling at welcome guests.

"Let 'em talk, mate, it's good to get things off your chest." At least their little bickering coaxes a tiniest hint of smile out of you, and Simon, noticing it immediately, stares back at Kyle with such pride, as if he just did something great.

The thing is, in the way his arms squeeze you a tad bit tighter, pressing into his firm body, you can read that for him - your smile is the greatest achievement.

"Don't tell me you prefer his silent treatement, angel, I'm trying to be the attentive boyfriend here, and for what?" Your smile grows a little braver. A little brighter. You would've kept talking if you could remember what it was that hurt so fucking much in your chest.

"Shower. Then a cuppa. Then we have the talk." No one dares to argue with the Ghost and his gruff commands. You feel the sheet sticking to your skin as he lifts you up, Kyle already sneaking off to prepare towels and clean clothes for you three. He'll stay with you and help you wash the remaints of the mind attack off. Simon will make fresh tea.

You're going to be alright.

Price and Soap take quite an intense approach the second they notice your distress. You feel Johnny's weight disappear from you after the first strangled sob that escapes you, and if you could open your eyes glued shut by the hot, messy tears, you would see John practically dragging the poor Sergeant away by his scruff. It's easy to suspect that Johnny couldn't contain himself and went too hard, too rough on you - with no malice, but pure passion that's spilling from his big, hot heart every time he gets to be close to you.

But it's not Johnny's fault, neither is it John's. It's all you, a useless, pathetic thing, good for nothing and holding two gorgeous men to yourself like a greedy glutton hoarding delicious food.

"Ah'm sorry, bonnie- ow, Ah got it, Ah got it, Ah'm not touchin'!"

"Did we hurt ya, love? Was Johnny boy too rough wit' ya? Wha's wrong?"

You feel big warm hands gliding over your skin, quick assessment of your state in search of potential harm caused. This immediate care only makes you feel worse, every cold sweaty patch of your disgusting hide shivering and twitching under Captain's careful touch. You struggle against your own spiraling anger, fight it with what's left of your exhausted resilience - and lose, curling up with another burst of tears, shoving the loving hands away and dusting the lingering warmth off your body.

After all, you do not deserve to be treated with such kindness after the fit you just threw.

"No, no, no, it's not his fault, it's not Johnny's... it's me, it's my fault, it's all my fault, I ruin everything, I'm- I'm disgusting!"

The silence that follows you blowing up on them is heavy. Just as bad as the knot in your chest.

"Johnny."

When you open your eyes to find a way out, run away, scatter and hide in the furthest corner of the apartment until everyone who tried caring for you leaves again, you're met with Johnny's bright blue eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

It's a shocking sight, pushing you out of the muffled misery into an alerted worry - his face is red with unexplainable pained anger, fists clenched as John holds him tightly by hunched shouders, seemingly trying to prevent a violent outburst.

"Ah wanntae ken names of th' bastarts who made ye feelin' tis wa'. Ah swear Ah will mak' thaim fuckin' choke oan thair ain tongues, Ah'll rip thair spines oot 'n' shove thaim up thair-" - "Enough, Johnny. Stand down. This won't solve anythin'. Ya calm down and help our lovie feel better, a'right?"

Still a bit shells-hocked, you stir on the bedsheets and push yourself up to sit upright, stretching your arms hesitantly to the men in a weak attempt to remedy whatever shitstorm you caused in their minds.

"Don't get mad, please," you whisper sheepishly, and the shy sound of your still choked voice seems to wash Johnny's explosive anger away better than the firm grip of his handler's (Price's) hands. With a look of a beaten dog, Johnny huffs loudly, cuddlng up to you and hiding his face in your lap. His heavy jaw sinks in the plush of your thighs, accomodated nicely with the softness of your body.

"'M nae mad at ye, leannan. Jus' dinnae say tha' again, a'right, bonnie? If ye need me tae prove ye-"

"No..." your hand finds it place in his damp mohawk and brushes through, while you glance at John. His eyes are shimmering with love and love only as he looks at you and Johnny, and you feel a wave of shyness - the good, giddy, warm kind - replacing the paralyzing shame. "I'm fine already. With you."

"Maybe we should 'ave a little chat 'bout it, love," John's hand meets yours on the sad mutt's head in your lap, intertwinig fingers with you through Johnny's soft hair. "When ya feel better. Jus' so we know what we're dealing with, eh?"

"Yeah. A bit later. Thank you."

All four of your men get frozen witnessing your reaction, struck with a horrifying sense of helplessness - it feels like the biggest failure among many unsuccessful missions, operations where lives were lost and enemies missed, to have you curling up and crying in misery between all the love they've been pouring onto you just mere seconds ago. As if everything they touch is bound to go up in flames, drown in blood and rot, be it on the outside or from the inside.

They're lost, and as always, they turn to the Captain, giving themselves up for him to direct, trusting that he knows better what use they can be of.

And, frankly, he does.

They're barely talking, but the commotion around you is decipherable even through the red mind fog and closed eyes - it honestly only makes you feel worse, unsafe, exposed, despite that simply being Soap, sent off to fill a bath ("Ye want it hot or a tad bit cool, bonnie?" - Silence. Your nails dig into your scalp, the soud of someone simply breathing, even more so talking to you, sending you into a new fit of rage. "Make it warm, Johnny, we'll adjust later."), and Simon, leaving for tea duty - silently, your favourite way to have it attentively observed in the first two weeks you've been together and memorized ever since.

It's Kyle whose voice, murmuring into your ear sweet, reassuring nothings as he keeps you caged in a tight embrace, your back pressed against his warm chest, forces you out of the highly irritable state. You have no choice between his short, chaste kisses on the crown of your overloaded head, and John's calloused hands massaging your calves, soft flesh dipping under the firm pressure.

"Ya jus' focus on fighting tha' storm off, a'right, darling? We'll take care of th' rest. It happens, we know it does, 's not your fault. Jus' a funny lil' thing your mind does, eh? Yeah, love, we know wha' it's like when your mind does funny things. Don't we, Kyle?"

"That we do." Maybe it's just your own depressive state rubbing off on them or distorting your perception, but Kyle's voice sounds almost solemn. You would turn to look into the smoky quartz of his eyes, but either he holds you too tight, or you have barely any strength left in your upset body - you simply can't.

Maybe it's alright. Maybe tonight they don't need you ripping your heart out to tend to their restless minds, and you can just allow them to take care of you.

Allow Kyle to carry you to the bathroom.

Allow John to stay there and help you wash yourself with a nice, scrubby loofah.

Allow Johnny to bring in his huge, baggy loungewear that doesn't hug your curves too snugly and allows you to simply forget what you were so angry about for a while.

Allow Simon to serve you perfect temperature tea in your favourite mug and keep you quiet company on the balcony, night air cooling your wet and clean now skin and hair further and blowing all thoughts out of your troubled head away.

As you share a cigarette with rich clove aftertaste, breathing ironically becomes easier. Behind your back the bedsheets are being changed, proper meal is being cooked, a good movie you won't be upset falling asleep to is being chosen.

"Simon." - "Hm." - "You sure you're okay with me being like that?" - "Standin' in the wind with your hair wet, tryin' to catch a cold?"

You grunt, not appreciating him taking the piss while you're tryig to be vulnerable, but allow him to pull the hood of Johnny's hoodie onto your head.

"No. I mean, fucked up in the head?"

You don't actually know what answer you expect. With an unreadable expression, Simon turns his head, looking through the glass door at the men crowded in the living room and waiting for you, and then stares back at you with a smirk, a permanent scowl carved into it by someone's cruel hand.

"Nah. Tha's how I like 'em."

He throws the cigarette butt away and chuckles, cupping the back of your head and pulling you inside, into the warmth of home.

"Oi, bonnie! C'mere, As saved ye a spot." There is no spot as you look at the two-story cuddle pile on the sofa and the blanket nest in front of it, unless of course... ah, yes, Johnny's patting his lap. "Ah promise Ah'll behave. Mostly."

And as his warmth envelops you through a big hug, his hands clenched humbly on your belly and behaving indeed, you feel stupidly happy.

Because you're enjoying touch again.

[seventh-district]

I Don't Care If You're Contagious

He reaches beneath his jacket again, this time retrieving his gun from its concealed holster. He points it skyward, finger thankfully off the trigger, tapping the end of the barrel a few times against his temple. You note the edge of unhinged pride in his voice. “He’d never met me though.”

The few remaining shreds of your sanity beg you not to find the display endearing. They lose in the face of your love for him.

Smiling, you shake your head, trying to reprimand him still. “You’re reckless, Matthew. Utterly reckless.”

“C’mon, poppet…” He lowers the gun to rest on the table, pointing away from you. “You can still hear my heartbeat, can’t you?”

You nod.

“Did you ever hear it stop?”

You shake your head.

“Then there you have it. I’m just fine.”

His idea of reassurance could use a little work.

When he comes home bloody and drained from a job you regret missing out on, you and Matt both find comfort in one another, unorthodox though it may be.

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat - Minors DNI

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Word Count: 11,154

Contains: [spoilers for The Malenkee Saga (Jimち ASMR)] [not canon compliant] [SH / NSSI] [Reader's gender isn't specified but they're kinda implied to be fem] [blood] [blood consumption] [blood play] [comfort] [consensual, but not safe or sane] [descriptions of food and eating] [domestic? maybe?] [gun] [first kisses] [implied murder/death] [implied SA & violence] [needle play] [pet names] [praise] [PTSD] [scars] [traumatic memories/flashback] [unnatural abilities] [you and Matt are both criminals, mentally unwell, and so, so in love with each other 🖤]

Note: This fic is a sequel to this one, and while it isn't required reading, I'd recommend that you do if you want to have the full context going into this one.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy and fiction, and should be regarded as such. I don't condone replicating the acts depicted. If you're interested in this sort of play, please educate yourself, take the appropriate precautions, and use the correct tools.

The delicate scent of freshly chopped vegetables simmered in broth fills your small kitchen. Taking it in with a deep breath as you slowly stir the pot, you smile, content in the peaceful moment. Bringing the ladle to your lips, you blow away the rising steam with a few unhurried breaths.

Once it’s a tolerable temperature, you sample your work, and hum a quiet note. It’s… on the bland side, to put it mildly. If this pot were for you alone, you’d be reaching for the spice cabinet post haste. It isn’t, though, and you don’t even find yourself lamenting that fact, given the company you’re soon to be sharing it with.

When you’d first begun attempting to feed Matt, you started with something you considered quite basic and mild. A simple bowl of oatmeal. Forgone were any of your more extravagant toppings and mix-ins, you were sticking to the bare minimum. Oats, water and milk. A pinch of salt, a small spoonful of sugar, and just a dusting of cinnamon. It doesn’t get much more basic, (or flavorless…), than that.

Or so you thought.

The memories of his favorite cuisine must've fallen too far into the back of your mind. Mixed in and tucked away with all the other parts of your past you’d rather not dwell on, the taste, or lack thereof, of his signature “soup” was hardly the worst of them.

It was hardly the best either.

Rather unremarkable aside from the bizarre circumstances of its initial presentation, it wasn’t the taste that you found so off-putting. It was the texture. Clumps of bread that’d grown far past soggy, nearly turning to sludge amidst the watery broth, it was just… unpleasant.

You could never wrap your head around Matt’s apparent genuine enjoyment of the dish. In the beginning, before you knew him better, you’d thought he might just be fucking with you. Surely no sane person could like it at all, let alone name it their favorite. But therein laid the error in your reasoning. You weren’t dealing with a sane man at all.

When you once questioned him on it, he gave you a vague yet sincere answer. “Oh, it’s an old family recipe.” The words had rolled off his tongue with ease, and your brow furrowed. He rarely spoke of any family, hell, you weren’t sure he ever really had one. When you pressed further though, his answer quickly fell apart. When required to actually try and recall any detail as to this supposed family, he drew a blank.

It wasn’t that surprising, in all honesty. It didn’t make you doubt him much, either. Even less so nowadays, with your approximate knowledge of just how old his idea of “old” is. The mind can only recall so much, can only reach so far back before everything starts to fade.

Sometimes you mourn the amount of his memory, his history, that’s been lost to the unrelenting passage of time.

Sometimes you wonder who he’d be mourning, if their memory still lived within him.

You blink, and pull your eyes back into focus.

You stir the pot on the stove before you.

Best to keep yourself grounded in the here and now, you suppose.

Regardless of Matt’s supposed love of that awful soup of his, you weren’t too keen on it yourself. You’d been far too afraid to tell him so the first few times he fed it to you, and you were hardly in a position to decline. But time passed as it always does and you gradually turned from his captive into his companion. You learned that you needn’t fear a disagreement so trivial. Eventually you brought it up, letting him down slowly so as to not insult his… family’s cooking.

He took it far better than you’d feared, only seeming a bit… saddened, that you’d exaggerated your initial assessment of the dish. You weren’t sure if his sadness stemmed from your newfound dislike of his soup, or from the reminder of your initial fear of him. You never asked.

You couldn’t imagine that eating nothing but bread and water could be good for him, but then again he’s shown great enough feats of survival that you suspect he may not even need food at all. The black scars on your wrist suggest that you may now share that trait too, but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your taste. You still crave food, and if the two of you are going to be eating together, you’d like it to be something you both can enjoy.

That’s how you found yourself presenting him with an innocent bowl of oatmeal, figuring it wasn’t that far of a step away from his preferences.

You quickly gathered that you’d underestimated his palate’s sensitivities.

You’d tried not to stare as he pulled the bottom of his mask up, the sight still relatively rare to you then. With bated breath, you watched him take a tentative bite of the benign breakfast food. To his credit, he didn’t cringe, or gag, or any other outrageous reaction you’d feared. He just… frowned. And your heart sank a little. Had you used too much water? Not enough milk? Too much salt? Not enough sugar?

Your inner worries were soon quieted as he politely questioned you, holding another spoonful up in front of him. “Why is it… spicy?”

It took everything in you not to laugh, both from pure surprise, and at the meme he was unknowingly quoting. “I… is it? It’s spicy to you…?”

He took in a second thoughtful bite, and nodded. “Yeah… kind of? It’s a little thick… and has this… I don’t know.” He brought his hand up to cup his exposed jawline in thought. “It’s… hmm… no, not dirt, oh what’s the word… earthy! Like… spicy… wood, or something.” You bite back a smile at his explanation, and catch how he mirrors yours when his eyes land on you. “I… I think I quite like the sweetness of it though.”

You quickly gathered that he was awfully sensitive to- well, just about every flavor, the more intense ones especially so. And his baseline for “intense” was adorably low. It made enough sense you supposed, given you’d no idea how long he’d been eating that same flavorless glop of his. It did raise a brief question in your mind though, the answer which you’d silently searched for when you were next alone.

A brief search in your phone’s browser shut down your fleeting line of thought that perhaps he’d never been accustomed to such flavors. It seemed quite the opposite, in fact, given that apparently Britain had taken over the cinnamon trade during the 1800’s. So, it was unlikely that the spice, and similar others, weren’t available to him in some capacity then. Well, if your attempts at surmising his origins were correct, that is. It didn’t seem to be considered a rare commodity by those times either.

Shaking the tangling web of thoughts from your mind, you dismissed it in the same way you’d learned to treat his many other anomalies. Perhaps he’d lived in… unique circumstances even then. Perhaps the true extent of his “old family recipe” has simply been lost to time, leaving him with memory of nothing but the utter basic ingredients. Perhaps your rough calculation of his true age was incorrect. The variety of reasons were plentiful, multiplying, and eventually, overwhelming to your tired mind.

Best to not dwell.

You were appreciative of his continued willingness to try your offerings, having not been too badly put off by his first impression of your “spicy” oatmeal. You began modifying your simple recipes, removing more and more flavor until you were left with the tamest possible versions of them. He came to enjoy your oatmeal, once you’d upped the water and forgone the cinnamon. He’d quite enjoyed your vegetable soup, too, once you parted ways with your beloved garlic and onions.

It wasn’t a hard sacrifice to make, in all honesty, because the satisfaction of finding something, anything else he liked to eat, far outweighed the loss. Besides, the omissions only applied to the initial recipe. Nothing stopped you from seasoning your own serving after the fact, which you often did. One would think you were eating Carolina Reapers with the way his eyes widened at the sight of you seasoning your food.

You never considered yourself to be much of a genuine spice lover, you just liked some flavor in your food. It became a lighthearted joke between you both. He continually balked at the sight of your heavy-handed garlic powder pour, and you gently poked fun at him over his bland taste. Watching him contentedly eat his watery oats, you once playfully remarked as much, affection lacing your quiet words as they crossed the kitchen table. “Matthew, you’ve got to be the whitest man I know.”

You doubted he’d get the reference, which only made his honest response infinitely funnier in retrospect. In the moment, though, it just made you a bit sad. “…You know other men…”

It wasn’t a question, nothing more than a quiet, trailing statement with a jealous undertone. He seemed saddened by such a reminder, and you quickly felt the urge to remove the frown settling on his lips. Rising from your seat and closing the space between you, your hand found his shoulder as you bent down to his level. After planting a long kiss on his temple, you reassured him softly. “None of them have ever held a candle to the ways in which I know you.”

You recall the feeling of his muscles relaxing beneath your touch, and you smile.

Using the edge of your ladle, you gently press it down and part a soft carrot slice in two. Nodding to yourself and giving the pot one last stir, you reach out and return the range’s dial back to its vertical off position. It’s then, in the otherwise quiet room, that Matt’s heartbeat grows noticeably louder in your ears.

It took a little while to adapt to at first, this new constant pulse in the background of your mind. When he first explained it to you, you’d had a fleeting fear that it would grow to annoy you, but you’re relieved to have found that to be far from the case. It’s comforting, above all else. A soft, constant reminder that he’s still alive, and still with you, even when he isn’t physically with you. And like any constant sound, you grew accustomed to it. Before you knew it you found it fairly easy to let slip from your focus when you so desired, and just as easy to tune back into when you wished.

Even when you weren’t paying specific attention to it though, it was always unmistakable when he first came home. Its volume being based upon your proximity, the steady beat always made itself re-known when he drew close. He was an otherwise quiet man, the many years spent in his particular occupation lending him an innate degree of stealth that he carried with him everywhere. He could never sneak up on you again, though. Such was the price he paid for giving you his heart, and he’s never seemed to mind.

So it wasn’t the silent unlocking of your door, nor was it his silent footsteps through the short hall that told you he was home. It was the steady thump of his heartbeat, catching your attention as it grew louder.

Smiling, you turn away from the stove to face the doorway just in time to greet him as he’s rounding the corner. “Welcome ho-…-ome…” The disheveled sight of him then causes your face to fall. You falter for a moment as his exhausted voice greets you in turn, making his way to the kitchen table and pulling out a chair. Reaching a hand inside his jacket, he pulls out a thick wad of cash, dropping it on the table with little fanfare as you make your way over to him.

The heavy scent of iron lingers on him, and your hands hover for a moment before gently landing on his upper arms. Catching his gaze, you question him in urgent concern. “What- what happened? Are you okay?”

He pulls his gloves off, tossing them onto the table next. “Of course I am, doll…” His unconvincing statement is punctuated by a quiet groan as he lowers himself into the chair. Your hands slip away from his arms, and when you register a cold wetness on the left, your breath hitches. Your eyes flick down to assess your palm at the same time as his preemptive reassurance hits your ears. “It’s not mine.”

The blood that soaked his jacket tints your hand a shade of red, not black, and you release your breath.

Reaching for a hand towel and wiping it away without a care, you resist the urge to put your hands on him again. You want to feel, want to search his pitch black clothes for any patch of blood that might not be red, but you refrain. You don’t ever want to overwhelm him.

Turning behind you and pulling your own chair near, you release his name in a shaky breath. “Matt…” You have to ask. “Did it… go south?”

His elbows thunk lightly against the table as he props them there, leaning forward. “Only…” He sighs. “Only a little bit.” He eyes the cash on the table. “I still got the job done.”

You follow his gaze, and frown. Reaching out, you lift one end of the stack with your thumb, watching the hundreds flicker past as you riffle through them. Pulling your hand back and crossing your arms, you voice your doubt. “Was it worth it? I don’t ever want you taking a job for the sake of the-”

“This wasn’t about the payment.” He gently cuts you off, shaking his head slowly. “That’s not why I took this job.”

“Was it… personal, then?”

“…Not quite.” His gaze drifts up from the table to stare out the small window above the sink. “It was… a moral thing, I guess. If I’d passed on it, there was a risk of it becoming personal. But- even if there wasn’t… I’m not the type to let a man like that walk.”

You question him gently. “…Like what?”

He glances at you for a moment, hesitating on his words. “He… had a reputation. Real big, strong, the cocky type. Liked throwing his weight around, starting fights…” Matt laughs. “He was so overconfident in himself, that- word was- he never even carried a gun. Thought that his sheer strength, “street smarts”, whatever, would be enough to carry him through anything.”

You roll your eyes at the notion. “Sounds like a real prick, yeah. But still, that’s not enough to get a bounty put on himself… right?”

You can’t see the way the edge of Matt’s lips tug up in the slightest smile at your words. It fades fast regardless though as he continues talking around the dark truth of the matter.

“Fist fights weren’t the only way he liked to… throw his weight around. He also had a penchant for targeting people that he knew couldn’t stand a chance at fighting back. He… enjoyed taking things that didn’t belong to him.”

The dark, disgusted edge that Matt’s voice has taken tells you that he’s not talking about material possessions. Your stomach drops. “…Oh.”

“Yeah.” His gaze locks onto the table. “There are… certain lines that you just don’t cross. He quite enjoyed crossing them. I quite enjoy killing those who do. So, no. It wasn’t about the money, doll.”

You uncross your arms, taking a deep breath. The metallic sting of the low-life’s remains wafts off of Matt and hits the back of your throat. The two of you sit in thoughtful silence for a few moments, and you come to a conclusion. “I wish you’d have let me come with you.”

You can hear the frown in his voice. “Like I said this morning, love, it was too dangerous-”

“Don’t you know how much I’d have loved to get in on a job like that?”

He breathes. In, and out. “I… do. I do. But I couldn’t risk it. Not this time.”

To his credit, he was often quite lenient with your requests. As much as he’d sometimes like to keep you here, safe, tied to the bedpost to never leave again and subject yourself to the cruel, dangerous world outside… he doesn’t. He’s come to recognize the strength that resides within you. He knows you can hold your own. He usually does let you accompany him on these jobs. He can even admit that you two make an excellent team.

That’s why you didn’t argue this morning when he insisted that he handle this one alone. The both of you have come very far. If he has reasons for wanting to work alone sometimes, you’ll step aside. But seeing him now, looking so worn down… knowing the type of revenge you missed out on, even if it wasn’t yours to take… it’s hard to stomach that you could only sit back and wait.

Your silence doesn’t sit well with him, so he continues to explain. “I know you can hold your own. As much as I hate to see you have to do it, I know. I know. But against a man like that, if there existed even the smallest chance that we could be overpowered and you could be subjected to… him.” He shakes his head, resolute. “No. I won’t ever risk that. I couldn’t live with myself if he’d so much as laid a finger on you.”

His eyes meet yours, and to your surprise, they’re almost pleading.

You hold his gaze for a moment before responding, letting the air’s tension ease. “…I get it.” You sigh, but it’s mostly one of acceptance. “But Gods, Matt, you look like you could collapse. How big of a fight did he put up, anyways?”

The old wooden chair creaks beneath him as he leans back, giving it his full exhausted weight. “He was a good fighter, I’ll admit. Strong too.” He reaches beneath his jacket again, this time retrieving his gun from its concealed holster. He points it skyward, finger thankfully off the trigger, tapping the end of the barrel a few times against his temple. You note the edge of unhinged pride in his voice. “He’d never met me though.”

The few remaining shreds of your sanity beg you not to find the display endearing. They lose in the face of your love for him.

Smiling, you shake your head, trying to reprimand him still. “You’re reckless, Matthew. Utterly reckless.”

“C’mon, poppet…” He lowers the gun to rest on the table, pointing away from you. “You can still hear my heartbeat, can’t you?”

You nod.

“Did you ever hear it stop?”

You shake your head.

“Then there you have it. I’m just fine.”

His idea of reassurance could use a little work.

“Are you though? For- for all I know he could’ve hurt you fifty different ways, you healed on the way home, and I’ll be none the wiser! It’s not like I can just strip you and look for myself, I have to take your word for it!”

He’s grateful for the mask hiding the way his cheeks flush at your sudden mention of stripping him. He tilts his head to the side, searching for a more convincing answer.

The way his head moves causes the fabric of his mask to stretch out across his cheek. Not much, but enough. Just enough for your worried gaze to catch the tear in the fabric and the way it pulls apart, exposing a sliver of skin beneath.

You bolt up, leaning in close to him before he can even understand what you’re staring at. His wide-eyed gaze flicks toward you, but he doesn’t pull back. “…What is it?”

You reach a cautious hand out, giving him time to stop you, and he doesn’t. Pinching the material of his mask between your finger and thumb, you wince when you feel that it isn’t dry. Gently pulling down, you part the fabric far enough to get a better look beneath. “You have a tear in your-”

You can’t see much through the hole without tearing it wider, but the smeared black stain on the otherwise pale skin of his cheek causes you to falter. “…It’s not a tear.”

You pull your gaze away to look into his eyes. “It’s a cut.”

Recollection seems to hit him at your words, and he raises a hand to meet yours, his fingertips blindly assessing the area. When he pulls them away they’re tinted black.

Sheepish laughter escapes him as you release your hold on his mask, your frown deeper than ever.

“What can I say? He, eh… he brought a knife to a gun fight.”

You don’t laugh. “He cut through your mask. He hurt you.”

At your tone, Matt scrambles to do damage control. “It was barely a scratch! You- you know- one thing about big guys like him? They’re not all that nimble- or- or- agile like me. He hardly even landed any hits on me!”

Your eyes widen. “‘Hardly’? Are there more!?”

He shakes his head, hands held out in a placating gesture. “No! I- I mean- I don’t think so! It’s… kinda hard to tell… y’know? I was so caught up in the moment, it’s… easy to miss something as small as the sting of a blade.”

You stare at him, mouth agape for a moment in incredulous silence. You eventually close it, bringing your palms up to drag them down your cheeks in exasperation.

You suppose for a man who’s been shot as many times as he has, the pain of a cut would hardly even register by comparison.

His name comes out as a whine this time. “Matthew…”

“I’m sorry, love…” You can’t read much of his expression, but he sounds guilty.

You force yourself to take a calming breath.

“…No, no… it’s not your fault that he hurt you.” You could argue that it’s his fault for taking the job alone in the first place, but that’s hardly fair of you to say. Not when you know how much of his motivation was to keep you safe.

“You… don’t have to show me, if he hurt you elsewhere. Not if it isn’t vital. But please, at least let me help somehow. I can- I can wash those clothes for you.” Your gaze roams across the cut in his mask. “And I can mend that hole.”

“You don’t have to do any of that, doll, I-”

“I want to.” You cut him off with conviction. “I’ve- I’ve got food for you too… if you want it…” You add, gesturing to the pot on the stove with less conviction.

His gaze lingers on you as your tense shoulders fall, and his own tired muscles relax in response. Thoughtfully, he slowly begins to shrug off his jacket. “Yeah… yeah. Okay. I’d like that.”

You stand, coming around to lift the fabric from his shoulders. His voice grows soft. “…Thank you.”

-

With soup in your stomachs, Matt’s freshly washed clothes tumbling in the dryer, and himself currently in the shower, you release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you set a freshly rinsed bowl in the drying rack. Retrieving the nearby hand towel from the counter, you admire what you can see of the sunset from your kitchen window, sifting through the thoughts and emotions cluttering your mind.

Matt’s order of operations this evening were strange, but hardly anything about him isn’t, so you don’t think about it too hard. Whatever compelled him to eat before his shower makes no sense to you. But hey, everybody’s got their preferences, you suppose.

Thankfully, his mask and jacket seemed to be the only two things that had any significant amount of blood on them. He let you take them off, what with you so eager to get them in the wash and rid your kitchen of the metallic scent. You imagined his shirt and pants didn’t come out completely unscathed, but with his penchant for an all-black wardrobe, it was hard to tell. You weren’t about to have him strip right then when it seemed all he wanted to do was take a nap right there at the table. It was fine, the rest could go in the wash later.

Returning from the washroom to the kitchen, the sight of him smiling at you, politely requesting soup with blood still smeared across his cheek gave you pause. When you questioned him on it, he blinked at you with tired eyes, stating that your cooking would give him the strength to go shower afterwards. You figured he was mostly saying that in an attempt to lift your spirits, surely he wasn’t that hungry. Nevertheless, it made you smile.

Pulling your mind from the past and your gaze from the purple-orange sky, you drape your towel over the oven door’s handle. With the kitchen back in order, you close the curtains, kill the lights, and make your way to the dryer.

You interrupt the machine and pull the dry mask from the drum before shutting the door and allowing the remaining larger, thicker, still-damp fabrics to finish out the cycle.

You flatten the balaclava in your hands as you make your way to the bedroom. Matt’s humming escapes from the crack beneath the bathroom door, along with the sound of running water as he continues his shower. Thoughtfully running your thumb over the slit across the mask’s left cheek, you stop at your dresser. Pilfering through the top drawer for your little sewing kit, you decide to make good on your offer to mend the hole.

Clicking on your bedside lamp, you kick your slippers off and settle atop the sheets, laying your supplies out in front of you. Analyzing the fabric, you pick out what you’ll need. It’s a pretty clean cut.

You push aside the quiet question of how sharp the man’s knife had been.

Should be easy enough to mend it close to new with some tight, careful stitching.

You push aside the quiet question of if any part of Matt might’ve needed stitching.

Cutting a length of black thread, you ready the needle, and set to your quiet work.

You shake your head at the prior thought, finding that it won’t leave you be. There’s never any need for stitches when it comes to Matt. The same likely holds true for you now as well. You both heal too quickly for that to be necessary.

You find yourself wishing that’d been the case for you back when you had a knife stuck in your gut, countless safety pins pushed through your skin, and a maniac cornering you, intent on bleeding you out the hard way.

“Death by a thousand cuts.” He’d told you.

Long as you may live, you don’t think you’ll ever forget it.

You try not to dwell on those memories, but it’s hard not to lament what could’ve happened. How differently things could’ve gone if you’d had the power that you possess today. How you’d have pulled that blade from your stomach without fear and shoved it through his throat so fast he wouldn’t have seen it coming. How you’d have torn that hideous white mask off of his face just to watch the shock and pain contort his features as you twisted the blade.

You watch the needle push through the fabric in your hands in a rhythmic, repetitive motion, your body on autopilot as your mind lingers in the past.

Maybe if Matt hadn’t had to show up and save you that day, things could’ve gone differently. Maybe the two of you wouldn’t have had to part ways afterward. Maybe your next meeting wouldn’t have been handcuffed together in an unfamiliar room.

Who knows. It’s a waste of time to wish you could change the past. And if things hadn’t gone the way they did, maybe you’d have never seen him again at all. Maybe there’s a reason for everything happening exactly how it did. Who knows.

An unknown force suddenly jostles you and you yelp, startled out of your thoughts. You immediately hear Matt apologize, and you turn, quickly gathering that the “unknown force” was nothing more than him, plopping down on the bed next to you. You open your mouth to respond, but you’re interrupted when you go to move your hand and an instinctive hiss of pain comes out of you instead.

Looking down, your eyes widen at the sight of your sewing needle, pierced straight through the pad of your left index finger.

“Oh, no!” Comes Matt’s shocked voice from beside you after his gaze follows yours. “Ohhh, no, no, no. Did I make you do that?”

You assume your fingers must’ve slipped when he startled you, but you aren’t about to blame him. You struggle to find your words as you stare at the tiny impalement. “It’s… it’s fine, honey, I was just… zoned out. Didn’t even notice that you’d left the bathroom…”

You gather Matt’s mask in your free hand, unable to put it down given that it’s still attached to the thread, attached to the needle, attached to you. Pinning the fabric between your wrist and your chest, you twist your body and hold your hand out under the lamp to your left. The thread attaching you to the mask grows taut, tugging lightly at your new piercing, and you feel your mind slipping.

You don’t feel yourself in your bed anymore, and you don’t see your nightstand in front of you. You feel yourself pinned to a wall, and you see that awful man pushing another pin through your skin. He’s rough and careless, pressing them deep to catch on more than just skin, tugging them back up to fasten them and make sure this hurts as much as possible.

Tears well up in your eyes as you feel someone take hold of your wrist. You instinctively pull away, and their soft grip tightens.

You hear that awful, wet, sputtering voice in your mind, muttering its nonsense, growing louder, angrier. You try to make sense of its repetitions. You shut your eyes tight and all you can see is blood. All you can hear is the blood spilling from his lips… his tongue. Tongue. That’s right. Someone cut out his tongue. Who? Was it you? Have you forgotten that too? Is this your punishment for such a crime? But- no- why would you do that? Did you do that? Did you do that? Do you deserve this? What did you do to deserve this?

What did you do?

What did you do?

What did you do, child?

Matthew’s voice cuts through the noise at last, shouting your name.

When you open your eyes, you meet his through a watery gaze.

He lowers his voice, but his heavy, serious tone remains as he begins to ground you.

“It’s over. He’s dead. He’s dead, and gone, and never coming back, and you didn’t do anything. You never did anything to deserve that. Not any of it.”

You’re tempted to close your eyes, wanting his voice to be the only thing you can perceive, but he stops you. “Ah-ah-ah- no, no, poppet, stay with me. Want you to keep your eyes on me, okay?”

You nod, raising your free hand to wipe at your eyes. He keeps one hand around your other wrist, holding your injury steady as he tugs at the collar of his bathrobe. He then reaches for your free hand with his, and you hardly have time to be confused before he’s slipping it beneath the thick fabric of his robe, bringing your hand to rest on his bare chest. The bold move shocks you halfway out of your mind’s haze, and for a brief, blissful moment all you can focus on is how warm he is.

Guiding your hand, he settles it directly over the part of his chest where you’d planted his last two hearts. “Do you feel that?”

The steady twin thumping against your palm aligns with the rhythm of his pulse in your mind. You nod. He rests his hand atop yours, a silent invitation to keep it there.

“Good. Focus on that for me, okay? Focus on that while we breathe. Just follow my lead, I know you can do this.”

He patiently guides you through a few long minutes of breathing, until you’re able to match his measured breaths. As soon as you feel able, you try to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Matt, I don’t know what came over me, I just-”

He gently hushes you. “Pumpkin, c’mon, none of that. You don’t have anything to apologize for, okay? Just breathe. In…” You copy him again. “Aaand out…” You manage to let your shoulders drop on the exhale this time, and he smiles. “Good. There we go.” His hand slowly leaves his chest, and you wordlessly slip yours out of his robe, not wanting to overstay your welcome.

You risk another glance at your injury, and to your relief it doesn’t make your head swim this time. Matt still tries to distract you from it, leaning in to break your line of sight. “You don’t have to worry about that, doll, I’ll take care of it-”

You nod, but still cut him off by tugging your hand closer for a better look. “You can- I’ll- I’ll let you, I just… wanna see.”

He allows it, his careful grip on your wrist remaining. “See what?”

You turn your hand under the light. “How deep it is.” Your stomach turns a bit as you stare, but you’re relieved to find that it’s not that bad. The needle simply slipped through the soft pad of your fingertip, not hitting anything else. You feel silly for caring, what with your body’s capabilities, the risk from something like this is as trivial as a paper cut. You suppose you just haven’t gotten used to living in a more resilient body. All of your old fears still linger, unnecessary as they may be.

Regardless, you look away as you allow him to take your hand back. “…Okay, Doc, have at me.”

Matthew chuckles. “Me? A doctor? Goodness, what is this world coming to…”

Attempting to keep the mood light, he playfully considers your minor injury as he steadies your upturned hand on his knee. “Now, this is a pretty cool piercing, I’ll admit. But it’s also a pretty inconvenient one, isn’t it. So as- uh- oh, what do the kids say these days… hardcore as it looks, I’m gonna need to remove this, alright?”

You nod, laughing beneath your breath, and he finds himself satisfied with the small smile he manages to bring out of you.

“I’ll make it as quick and painless as I can, yeah? Want me to count you down?”

You close your eyes, shaking your head. “Nah, it’s fine. In your own time.”

“Alright, love. Deep breath in for me?”

You inhale, and one short, mildly uncomfortable moment later, you’re freed from the painful intrusion.

“There we go.” You open your eyes as he takes the needle with its attached thread and balaclava out of your hold. Playful as ever, he scolds the offending object as he sets it aside. “Bad needle, bad! No one hurts my poppet, not even you.” He shakes his head, and you huff a laugh at his commitment to the bit.

As sweet as your partner is being, your focus still shifts to your sore finger, held in your own lap now. You watch two little beads of black blood form on both ends of the puncture wound. They swell, and slowly begin to roll down your finger as Matt returns to kneel in front of you.

A half-baked thought occurs, and you act on it immediately. Holding your finger out to him in offering, you feel a sense of déjà vu, recalling the first time you made an offering like this. His eyes widen at the sudden presentation, and far be it from him to presume, he questions you.

“Would you… like me to go grab a bandage for that, dear? It should… stop bleeding on its own very soon, but, I don’t mind if you-”

You shake your head. “That’s not necessary. I, uh… I’m offering.”

His brows raise. “Offering?”

“Y-yeah. A taste. If you want it.”

His tongue briefly pokes out to wet his lips, a minuscule movement, but you catch it. “Are- are you sure? You were just pretty upset, I don’t want to make anything worse…”

You nudge your hand closer, an odd sense of desperation fueling you. “I’m sure.”

Conflicted but clearly craving it, he brings your finger to his lips carefully. You take in a breath, nodding. Painfully slow, ready to stop himself at any second, he finally tastes you, and you exhale involuntarily. When he pulls away, there are already two little dots, tiny twin scars adorning both sides of your finger.

Damn, you sure do heal fast.

Why does that disappoint you?

You catch him eyeing the twin trails running down the length of your digit, and you encourage him to do what he likely considers too obscene. “Go ahead, if you’d like, love.”

His unsure gaze flicks between you and the remaining blood on your finger several times, before eventually giving in when you don’t waver. His tongue peeks out again, chasing the trails down the length of your finger, and his cheeks are burning red when he pulls away.

You feel lightheaded at the sight, in the best way possible. Sighing out a breathy “There you go…”, you take your hand back, admiring the pinprick scars.

“Thank you… you, uh, certainly didn’t have to offer that…” Matt’s appreciation goes in one ear and out the other as you quickly find yourself in the grips of a brand new idea. A newly born desire.

A stupid one? Maybe.

A dangerous one? Perhaps.

A weird one? Certainly.

You turn and pitch it to him before you can think any better of it.

“Can we do that again?”

He blinks a few times. “…Pardon?”

You reach for your sewing kit. “Can we…” You fish out a pin-filled cushion and present it to him. “…Do that again?”

You imagine the gears in his brain stuttering and shifting as his face cycles through several different expressions. “You want… to do that… again? All of it?”

You nod, a slightly less than subtle smile on your face. “Uhuh!”

“You want to pierce yourself again? On purpose this time? Because I- I promise you there’s easier ways to draw blood-”

“It’s not that different from a cut.” You interject. “And I… certainly don’t have to be the one to do it, but I can be… if you… don’t… want to.” Your voice is barely audible by the time you get the full sentence out.

“You want me to do it?” He reaches up, placing his palm on your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” His question is mixed with disbelieving laughter, and the sound is contagious.

Now laughing too, you nod, pulling his hand away and taking it in yours. “Matt, I’m high on endorphins right now, I’m better than okay.” You squeeze his hand. “And I’d quite like to make this last.”

What remains of your rationality pipes up, reminding you that perhaps he doesn’t want to. You sober up a bit at the thought.  “That- that is… only if you want to.”

He shakes his head. “No, I- wait that’s- that’s not a no! I mean- it’s not a yes either- at least- not yet! I…” He sighs. “I just… don’t want to bring up bad memories again.”

You alleviate his concern with admittedly shady logic at best. “We can make new ones! Re… I don’t know… re-route the association.”

He frowns, clearly skeptical.

“I promise you, Matthew, I wouldn’t do this if I thought it would upset me.”

You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back.

“How can you know that it won’t?”

“I… can’t. Not for sure.” You place the pin cushion gingerly on your knee, and you crack a smile. “Not unless we try.”

He considers you for a long moment, and you release your eager hold on his hand,  reiterating your prior point.

“It’s really okay if you don’t want to.”

He takes the cushion in one hand and slowly pulls a random pin out with the other. He asks you a very serious question.

“Will you tell me to stop, the moment you don’t like it anymore?”

Surprise paints your features. “Of course.”

He sets the cushion aside. “You’re sure you’d rather I be the one to do it?”

Your breathing picks up. “I’m sure.”

He notices, because of course he does, and he smiles, voice regaining a playful edge. “Well then… what kind of doctor would I be to leave a patient in need?”

You hate to admit the effect such a silly statement has on you, but from the way he’s watching you like a hawk… you probably don’t need to admit anything.

You ask one more time. “You’re sure you’re okay with this? Don’t let me pressure you…”

He toys with the tiny, sharp instrument, rolling it between his fingers.

“I’d be lying if I said the idea of this doesn’t… entice me.” He gently pokes at one of his own fingers, testing the waters. “And having you put this level of trust in me?” He meets your gaze. “It’s nothing short of an honor.”

“Then…” You feel heat rising to your own cheeks, and flex your fingers before offering him your left hand. “Please?”

He takes it in his, and pauses with a question. “Are you sure this is where you want it? Other areas would likely be… less sensitive. L-less painful, I mean. They… might also bleed less though…”

You nod. “Yes. I want it all, pain included.”

He smirks, running his thumb along the length of your middle finger. “You’re a little crazy, you know that?”

You pout playfully. “Only a little? …Gotta step up my game then…”

He shakes his head, laughing beneath his breath. Focus returning to your hand, he requests your preference. “Through the fingertip, like the first one?”

A rush of excitement tightens your chest. “Yeah, uh… the middle one, this time, please.”

He holds the appendage steady, readying the pin. “So polite…” He glances up at you. “A countdown this time, or no?”

You shake your head. “No… uh, again, in your own time.”

He picks up on the slight nervous edge in your voice. “You don’t have to watch, love.”

You consider it, and close your eyes. “Just… for this first one.”

You feel the tiniest point of pressure against the pad of your finger.

“No second thoughts yet?”

Your lips curl up at the edges.

“None.”

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he mentions it. “Breathe for me, doll.”

You obey.

“In…”

Your lungs fill.

“Out…”

You breathe out, slow at first, and then hard, as you feel the thin metal pierce through your sensitive skin. Your free hand grips the bedsheets and a sudden heat washes over you. Matt’s calm voice is quick to fill your ears.

“Good, good. There you go, you’re okay.”

You open your eyes and sure enough, he’s mirrored the first injury. Not too deep, just enough to hurt, and draw blood when removed.

His thumb rubs distracting circles into your palm. “How are you feeling now?”

Your shaky breath turns into quiet laughter, and you feel a little unhinged as you look him in the eye. “Good… really good.”

Relief softens his features, and warms his smile. “Good. You did very well.”

Your cheeks heat from the praise, the feeling mixing deliciously with the slight throb of pain. “You-” You take in a breath. “You can take it out now.”

He shifts slightly in his position beneath you. “You sure? I’m in no rush, doll, we can take our time with this.”

“I know, I know… but I want it to bleed.” You unfurl your right hand from the sheets, reaching out to rest it on his left shoulder. “Besides, I hate to make you wait for your reward.”

His brows raise. “Reward?”

“You didn’t think I’d have you pierce me just to keep the blood all to myself, did you?” You grin. “It’d be an awful waste.”

“That’s…” His own breath grows slightly heavier, and you revel in it. “…Very generous of you, love.”

He takes the end of the pin between his fingertips, careful not to tug on it. His eyes ask for permission, and you grant it with a nod. You don’t close your eyes this time. You do squeeze his shoulder, though.

Slowly, gently, he pulls the pin back, and you watch in rapt fascination as it moves through your skin. Your breath hitches the slightest bit when it slides fully out, and comfort spills from Matthew’s lips. “Sh-sh-shhh, you’re okay, you’re okay… it’s out now.” The mixture of comfort, pain, and praise that he’s giving you is enough to make you dizzy. You love it. Maybe too much. A brief thought passes that you may never get enough.

It fades when he looks up at you, and you see the restrained desire in his eyes. It mixes with surprise. “Oh-oh! I didn’t know you were watching that time…”

You raise a brow. “Is that okay?”

A beat passes, and he laughs, soft and breathy. “Of course. Of course it is.”

Blood is already beading at your fingertip, so you raise it up in offering. “You’re really good at this.”

He eyes your fresh little wounds and a faint sense of satisfaction blooms deep within him. “…Am I?”

His eyes close as he takes the tip of your finger between his lips, and you bite back an embarrassing noise when you feel him apply light suction. “S- shit- you sure are...”

Your lidded eyes graze across his features, and they catch on the new scar adorning his cheek. They remain there even after he’s released your finger, and as you allow that hand to fall to your lap, you reach out to him with the other. He doesn’t pull away when you cup his cheek, but he does comment after a quick breath to collect himself. “Like I said earlier… ‘s just a scratch.”

You gently brush over the raised line with your thumb, a pout turning your lips down. “Scratches don’t leave scars…”

He cups a hand over yours, blinking slowly. “I’m okay, truly.” Tongue poking out from between his wet lips again, he smiles. “Feeling better than okay right now, thanks to you.”

You look from his scar, to his eyes, and back to his scar a few times as an urge blooms within you. It’s a familiar one, often fought back, and re-emerging with renewed intensity every time.

You let it win tonight.

Leaning down toward him, giving him ample time to stop you, you move to press a kiss to his cheek. He makes no attempt to object.

His breath catches, almost imperceptible if you weren’t so close, as your lips meet his freshly scarred skin. You linger for a moment that feels like forever, before pulling away. When your eyes open and meet once more, the room feels warmer.

…Maybe it’s just you.

His eyes flutter closed again as he leans into your touch, still cupping his cheek. His other hand finds yours, joining it on your lap.

As the two of you bask in your respective little highs, you feel uncharacteristically bold. So when a question arises, you don’t dismiss it as you’ve done in the past.

“Matthew?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever think about kissing me?”

His eyes blink open.

“I… do kiss you?”

You smile at the innocent confusion.

“Not… not like I just did. Not on my cheek, or my forehead, or my hand…”

Your thumb brushes past the corner of his mouth.

“On my lips.”

His eyes widen.

“…Oh.”

You didn’t think his face could grow much warmer, but it does.

“I… well…” He seems reluctant to answer, and you wonder what’s holding him back.

“It’s okay if you don’t, love. I just… wonder, sometimes.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, seeming to come to a quiet conclusion. “…I do, though.” His words suddenly have a desperate edge to them. “I have, and I do. But… I feel like I shouldn’t.”

Your head tilts to the side. “Shouldn’t think about it?”

“N-” He falters. “…Yes… that’s… part of it. I do feel like I shouldn’t sometimes. I don’t ever want to push that sort of affection on you. I- I’d be okay if we never… went there. Honestly. Just… having you- the honor of calling you mine. That’s more than enough for me.”

Your eyes threaten to water from the effort of containing your emotions. “That means a lot to me, you know? That you don’t want to push me. But… I’d like to put that inner conflict of yours at ease. Because I think about it too.”

“You do?” There’s genuine disbelief in his voice.

You nod. “I sure do. Ha… honestly, I fear it’s a bit… obvious, sometimes.”

He shrugs, shaking his head slowly. “I mean… I never want to assume. I’m not always the best at reading people…”

“Well, what if I make it clear, hm?” You lock in on his gaze. “I want to kiss you too, Matthew.”

Flustered by the direct confession, he trips over his words. “I- ahaha- well, wow. Uhm- I mean, you see…”

Your voice is soft. “What is it, love?”

“I’m…” He closes his eyes. “Afraid.”

You first try the lighthearted method of easing his fears. “I promise I won’t bite…”

In spite of his apparent inner conflict, he laughs. “Not, uh, not of that… but thank you. It’s, eh…”

“You can be candid with me, honey.”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to… get you sick.”

You blink. “Do you… feel a cold coming on, or…?”

You move your hand up to feel his forehead, but right now he’s flushed all over, so… oh. Oh, maybe you’ve been misinterpreting that.

Mirroring your earlier exchange, he pulls your hand down with a small smile. “No… not that kind of sick. I mean…” He toys with your fingers as he finds his words. “Sometimes I feel like there’s something inside me. Something dangerous. Something bad. I’m afraid of passing it to you.”

You glance at your wrist, and its slowly growing collection of black lines. “Honey… I think that whatever lives within you is already in me too.” You tap a few times on your chest, right over both of your hearts. “You know?”

“Yeah… I do.” His gaze lingers on your chest, but you can sense that it’s innocent. Honestly, it’s almost like he’s looking more through you than at you. From his next words, you can tell that his mind’s a little far away. “Still, though… I fear that there’s more. Something worse. Something that wouldn’t serve you. I… I don’t know what it is.”

You mull his words over, and come to a rational conclusion. Well. As rational as you’re capable of being in your current state.

You reach out to place a finger beneath his chin, your thumb dangerously close to his lower lip. It doesn’t take much more than that to bring him back into the here and now with you. “Even so. I’m not scared. I wouldn’t be here with you today if I was afraid of taking risks.”

His lips part slightly as you pause, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“If you really don’t want to, I will not pressure you. I won’t bring this up again unless you do. But regardless- I need you to know this, Matthew.”

For once, he’s the one holding his breath.

“I don’t care if you’re sick. I don’t care if it’s contagious. Hell, I’d kiss you even if you were dead.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips again. A subconscious thing, you figure.

Satisfied that you’ve made your stance clear, you move to release your gentle hold on his chin.

His hand flies up to stop you.

“Please.”

You freeze.

“Please… what?”

His tone is full of quiet desperation.

“Kiss me. Please. I want it too, I do, I do.”

Your breath grows shallow.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

You allow your hand to slide until it’s cupping the back of his jaw, and you lean down slowly. He rises to meet you halfway, you both close your eyes, and together, you give in.

It’s desperate and clumsy, trembling breaths and shaky hands. Your uneven positioning doesn’t lend itself well to the action, and your shared inexperience makes itself quietly known.

But it’s passionate, it’s intimate, vulnerable, and honest.

It’s far from perfect. It’s real.

Neither of you would change a single thing.

Breaking apart, you both descend into fits of quiet giggles. Eyes still closed and foreheads pressed together, you lean into each other, catching your breath.

When you’re calm enough to speak, you pull back, squeezing his hands in yours. “You’re so warm…”

He laces his fingers between yours. “You’re so soft…”

He shifts in his half-kneeling stance at the bed beside you, and it suddenly hits you. “Gods, how long have I kept you like this?”

The sudden question pulls him halfway out of his post-kiss daze. “Like what?”

You laugh, embarrassed. “On the floor in front of me! I’ve been so caught up in… in- in you, I didn’t even think about it, I…”

He shakes his head, tone completely unbothered. “It’s alright, doll! Really, it’s…” He stares up at you for a moment, and exhales. “It’s far from a bad position to be in.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Even so, you can’t be comfortable. C’mon, we’re getting you back in this bed with me properly.”

You move to encourage him to stand, and he puts his hands down on the edge of the bed to support himself. Only, instead of standing, he flinches with a quiet “Ow!” When he pulls his hand back, you’re mortified to see the pin he’d used on you earlier sticking out of his palm.

“Oh, fuck- Matt- here- let me see.” You reach for his wrist, and he lets you take it.

You sigh in relief once you hold it in the light. It’s not buried to the hilt, just about halfway. It hasn’t pierced through his hand completely, but the sight still makes you cringe. Guilt is quick to wash over you. “Matt, I’m so sorry, this is my fault.”

You hear the smile in his voice before you see it. “It’s okay, poppet. It hardly even hurt, just took me by surprise more than anything.”

You throw him a skeptical look, and he doubles down. “Honest! And anyways, it’s not your fault that I left it lying on the bed.”

You frown. “I distracted you…”

He shrugs. “I’d say it was well worth it, given the type of distraction.”

Shaking your head, you cradle his hand in yours. “I’m still sorry.” Looking at him with worried eyes, you make an offer. “I can take it out, if you want me to. Or- or you can! I mean- whatever you’re comfortable with…”

He nods, his smile soft. “You can do it, doll. You won’t hurt me.”

The confidence- (or is it trust?)- in his words surprises you. It shouldn’t, you suppose, given that this is nothing compared to the whole heart-transplant-thing. He wasn’t quite conscious for that, though…

Still, you don’t take the job lightly. Carefully steadying his hand, you reach to grasp the end of the pin. “Do you want me to count?”

He mirrors your words from earlier. “No, it’s okay. In your own time.”

You hold the pin steady, and pull. Not too fast, not too slow, you try to mirror how he did it for you, and it’s out in no time. He doesn't even flinch. You frown at the offending object as you place it on your bedside table with purpose. “Bad pin, bad.”

Chuckling, he flexes his hand in your hold. “It’s really alright, you know? I’m not upset.”

Your focus returns to his palm, watching blood bead up out of the tiny hole. Apparently deciding to continue acting out your prior exchange in reverse, he offers it up to you. “That’s yours, if you’d like.”

You raise an eyebrow, skeptical. “…I’ve hardly earned it.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not something to be earned. I’m giving it willingly. You’re welcome to any part of me… whenever you want it.” He catches your downcast gaze. “Always.”

Flustered by his sincerity, you try to let go of the guilt nagging at you. Focusing on the blood collecting in his palm, you recall the taste from last time.

You crave it.

Leaning down, you kitten-lick at the tiny puddle. Once you catch a taste, though, you’re quick to lave your tongue over it in earnest. He watches you closely.

Shutting your eyes, you savor his offering, but it’s quick work nonetheless, his injury healing as fast as yours had.

Once his hand is cleaned, you thank him, feeling fire on your cheeks.

“Hmm. I feel like I should be the one thanking you.” He remarks while moving to stand. Surely his knees are killing him, but he voices no complaint. He’s far more content than you’d seen him all day, actually.

He stretches with a yawn before falling into step and making his way around the bed to rejoin you. He combs his fingers through his half-damp hair, feathering it out. You watch in quiet admiration as it drapes across his shoulders.

The man has nicer hair than you do, you think to yourself for the millionth time since knowing him. Not in true jealousy, of course, but it has always surprised you. In your early meetings, you’d only ever seen a hint of it, peeking out from beneath the neck of his mask. He keeps it tied back and tucked away when he’s working, so it wasn’t until the two of you had some genuine alone-time together that you’d been graced with a proper view of it.

Milk-chocolate brown, silky-smooth, and pin-straight. He had the type of hair you’d once envied, seemingly effortless to care for. He never had to do much to make it look nice. But of course, he’d always brush it off when you said so. Seeming almost flustered, he was often unsure of what to do with your compliments, especially in the beginning. You did your best to lay them on easy.

The bed shifts once again beneath his weight, and this time you don’t flinch at all. Sitting back against the headboard, he shuffles up beside you. You lean into him as the mattress dips and he stretches out his left arm, wrapping it around you.

“Comfy?” He asks.

“Mmmhm.” You hum.

Reaching out for his hand, you pull it toward you. You love his hands, and he knows it. Luckily, he’s never seemed bothered by your penchant for hanging onto them. Quite the opposite, if you were to guess. You aren’t oblivious to his possessive nature, after all.

Idly manipulating his fingers, you quietly admire them for the thousandth time. You’ve made yourself quite familiar with every scar, callus, and crease on these strong hands. With one thought as to all that they’re capable of, it still baffles you how gently he handles you. He always has.

That doesn’t mean it’s never hurt. Sometimes pain is necessary. Or, at the very least, it’s unavoidable. But he was always gentle about it. Injuring you, bandaging you, feeding you, caring for you… hell, even that time he prepared to kill you, he was gentle about it.

You can hurt someone gently.

You can pleasure someone roughly.

…There may be a few wires crossed in your brain. You laugh to yourself softly.

“What’s funny, love?”

You shake your head before resting it on his shoulder. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just thinking.”

Even when he was scared, or angry, his gentle touch never faltered.

You sometimes wonder if it was fear, or rage, that caused his hands to tremble after your encounter with Mr. T. Was it fear of losing you? Was it anger at what the man had done? Honestly, it could’ve simply been the adrenaline rush of having just finally killed the man.

…Regardless. It wasn’t lost on you how hard he tried to keep himself composed, diligently removing pin, after pin, after pin.

That’s the only part of that awful memory that you don’t mind.

Well, that, and the confession of his feelings for you. That was certainly a highlight too.

Manually curling his fingers one by one into his palm, you run your thumb over the symbol of Venus, tattooed on his middle finger. Every time you see it, you hear his voice in your mind, answering your inquiry as to its meaning.

“Because I’m a feminist.” He’d stated matter-of-factly.

You pull his hand up further, and plant a kiss on the reminder inked into his skin.

He turns his head, planting one on the crown of your head in turn.

Using your thumb to push his fingers back out, you frown at the sight of the new scar on his palm. It’s a tiny thing, honestly. Unnoticeable unless you’re looking for it.

You huff, and plant another kiss there anyways.

Matt breathes his laughter into your hair.

“Y’know, I’d been planning on piercing myself anyways, and offering you my blood in turn. That little accident with the pin really just cut out half the work for me.”

Your eyes widen and you lean away to turn and look at him directly. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean- you were so generous with me today… it only felt fair.”

“I wasn’t expecting… you… you didn’t have to do that.”

His hand comes to life, turning the tables and beginning to gently play with yours.

“Okay… okay, I’ll admit.” His thumb taps thoughtfully over the black dots adorning your fingertips. “Fairness wasn’t the only motivating factor.”

The undercurrent of suggestion in his tone sparks your interest. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” He thoughtfully hums.

“Well, if you had further plans, I certainly never meant to interrupt.”

He considers it, softly pinching your fingers between his own. “Well. You did seem to imply earlier that you wanted more than one piercing. I’m still very willing to help.”

At the prospect, you grow a little bold. “Would you be willing to let me return the favor? You shouldn’t be doing all the work.”

He smiles, playful. “Haven’t had your fill of me yet, hm?”

You reach out to your nightstand, retrieving the pin once more. “I don’t think I could ever get enough, love.”

-

The two of you settle in, taking a few turns carefully piercing one another and nursing the blood. You keep the focus on your hands, for tonight, at least.

At one point, his palm brushes across the stub where your left pinky once was, and a shiver runs down your spine. His voice slips out, low and apologetic. “Sorry, poppet.”

“It’s alright… ‘s just sensitive sometimes.” You’re willing to move past the moment, but he lingers on it.

“I really never wanted to do that.”

“I know. I… it could’ve been a lot worse.”

Pain and regret seeps into his voice.

“It shouldn’t have happened at all. But they… didn’t give me much choice.”

You recall the hammer he held that night, and how he set it aside instead of turning it on you.

“You bent the rules as far as you could without breaking them. I know that.”

“I told you how I went back and made them pay in the end, right?”

You nod, but still, you question him, wanting to hear it again.

“They suffered?”

His left arm tightens around you.

“Absolutely.”

You relax against him, nodding in approval.

“Very good.”

He holds his own left pinky out for you, and you pierce it slowly.

-

When you’re both comfortably high off of one another, you will yourself to move one final time to set the pin safely aside.

As you curl back into Matt’s side, you notice his latest wound, still smeared with a small amount of congealing, black blood. Bringing it to your lips without hesitation, you mumble to yourself. “Getting sloppy with my work… shame on me.”

After cleaning up the mess and kissing it better one final time, you let your head fall back against the pillows. Matt regards you with lidded eyes and a soft laugh, reaching down to cup your cheek. You question him with a soft sound, and his voice is low when he answers you.

“You’ve still got my blood on your lips.”

Having lost your brain-to-mouth filter several piercings ago, you pose a bold solution.

“How about you help me clean it off then?”

You hear his heart pick up its pace at the invitation.

“Oh, I’d love to.”

Bringing his lips to meet yours for the second time tonight, you both melt into the kiss. It’s slow, and lazy, neither of you in a hurry to pull away. Even through your shared haze, when his hand finds the back of your neck and his fingertips press softly into the muscles there, it sends a jolt of pleasure through you that makes your head spin.

He pulls away to keep from laughing into the kiss. “Sorry, love. Didn’t know that would… affect you so strongly.”

Your tired eyes flutter open, and you speak between heavy breaths. “Don’t be.” You snake your hand around the back of his neck, and pull him down into you once again.

-

When you’ve both exhausted your air and energy, you roll over, wrapping yourself around him. As you lay there, head on his chest in the cozy, quiet room, a distant thought occurs to you.

“…Damn.”

“…Hmm?” His questioning hum reverberates in your ear.

“I never got the rest of the laundry out of the dryer.”

He huffs a laugh, pulling you in close.

“What’s so bad about that? The machine turns itself off.”

“Yeah, but… the laundry will get wrinkled…”

You trail off, and after a moment of thought, you both come to a decision together, voicing it aloud in sync.

“Ah, fuck it.”

Tiredly giggling at the jinx, the two of you give up the fight against sleep.

In the dark, beneath the sheets, your hands find each other, and you lace your sore fingers together, squeezing gently.

A/N: If you'd like to read my thoughts in regards to the process of writing this fic, as well as the musical inspiration behind it, you can find all of that over here, in the end-notes on Ao3! Header Image Sources: x - x - x (they're from Pinterest again, i know i know don't yell at me) My playlist and pin board for Matt. Lastly, of course, here's the link to The Malenkee Saga, and here's a link to Matt's videos if you're just looking for him.

[giantkillerjack]

ur post about queerbaiting and the dismissal of people in fandom to critical analysis is so incredibly true thank you. i feel like marcille's writing in the anime has been super misogynistic a lot of the time and every time i bring this up all anyone wants to say is "well maybe this isn't for you! and you shouldn't watch the show!" like. i don't think this is about taste lmao, i am analyzing the text in front of me and coming to conclusions about the craft of it.

[This is in reference to this post]

YES!!! THANK YOU!!!!!

It is so so frustrating!!!!

It's like being at a restaurant and being served a bunch of delicious appetizers, but then one of the bread appetizers is literally just a plate of crumbs; and then when you're like, "Hey, uhh, why are we being served literal crumbs?", a bunch of the other folks eating at the restaurant are like,

"WELL HOW ABOUT YOU JUST DON'T EAT HERE THEN??!? YOU MUST NOT BE THAT HUNGRY, SO JUST FIND ANOTHER RESTAURANT AND DON'T EAT WITH US!!"

And maybe they say it politely, but "Aw, sorry, maybe this restaurant just isn't for you 💖" is just trading out an aggressive dismissive tone for a patronizing dismissive tone. It's the same message.

And it's like! I was honestly happy to move on from the crumbs once my complaint was acknowledged because the meal overall is still delicious, but then all these folks got SUPER WEIRD AND DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT, so now I find myself double-checking all the other dishes -- and, actually, you know what those eggs DO look a Iittle misogynistic undercooked!!!!

[tavina-writes]

For the fanfic ask meme: T, X, and Y:

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

X: How would you categorize your fanfic reading?  Are you a voracious reader?  Do you carefully pick and choose?  Something in between?

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories?  Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?  

oh man, Ceru thank you so much for letting me procrastinate on writing this fic :DDDD

T: I am oddly really picky! I both really adore and also can't stand lots of different romance tropes, (and tbh other tropes) and it's really about context? Even if I say "oh I don't really like x" I tend to also...either write x or enjoy x in certain contexts, so I think for this I'd say that I can like most things in the right context, and there's nothing I really can't stand in universe, just more stuff that I dislike on a meta level.

Okay false, I thought of something: I hate not self aware ~cute~ farmcore and gardening adventures. Farming and Gardening are about WAR and SUFFERING and DEATH and LIFE and not about ~cute.~

X: I used to read almost everything and really often, but uhhh in the past two? three? years I've kind of, fallen off the fic reading bandwagon. I still do read fic! But almost exclusively because it was recced to me, I barely ever wander through character and ship tags anymore, which is a real shame! Maybe I should get back into doing that.

Y: I'd say there's a lot of stuff that I've written that hasn't gotten as much attention as the stuff that's "most popular" that I'm really fond of. TBH if I've published it, I'm really fond of it in some way. People often surprise me with what they really liked of my works or what they thought was really good!

I have to say, I'm still so fond of After tomorrow — who can say? which I wrote last year on a whim, and 有谁例外| Who is the exception? which I'm still rotating in my brain even now, but I know the "this is really far post canon" and "fic for a drama you certainly have never seen isn't really...lots of people's tea. So in a way, I can also see why certain fics that I really like and think of as some of my best work are like, "and this fic was beloved by you and two tumbleweeds."

:DD thanks for the ask!

[practically-an-x-man]

DAMN my writing masterlist is getting long. how the fuck did that happen

[ehlnofay]

19 for the worldbuilding prompts + Torr?

the profound quiet of a small settlement at night

North Eastmarch is freezing cold all over, but it wears different outside the city than within.

Torr would never call Windhelm warm – not even in summer months, no matter how used to it they are – but what little heat it has it clings to with great determination. The walls huddle together, trapping the air so that it’s either still and muggy or a howling wind, like each close-knit house is breathing in tandem. The heat of the people run up and down its streets, blood through its knotted stone veins. The city is alive, an ecosystem unto itself; its snow, dark with footprints, runs sludgy down the roads; a fireplace is always burning somewhere.

Outside of the walls, surrounded by nothing but empty air and snow-laden trees, a slow-moving stream running with barely a burble – it feels dead, in contrast. Silent. Branches reach needle-sharp across the blue-black sky, the ground is gleaming white and undisturbed by anyone else’s footprints, and the nearest fire is the barely visible gleam of the Kynesgrove mining camp, up the hill and through the sporadic spindles of the trees. The breeze ghosts past Torr’s neck and whips the mud-stained snow into a flurry.

In the city, Torr’s comfortable sleeping almost anywhere – as comfortable as they ever get, anyway. Some of the buildings have great gaps under the porch where the snow can’t reach and no-one ever finds them; there’s places in the nooks of the walls, and sheds built into the side of the house that people don’t lock, and Torr knows a few people besides who don’t mind him kipping on their floor every now and again, as long as he doesn’t ask too often. The outside isn’t like that. There’s not many places to go. He’s lurking around Kynesgrove tonight – on his way back from a quick venture out to get some things done that pay better than running errands around the markets – and there aren’t many options. The inn, which he can’t afford – the mine, which would be warm but is very guarded – the miner’s encampment or someone’s house, both of which would most likely result in being chased off. Besides, there’s a performative element to meeting people, especially adults, in strange places, and Torr’s not in the mood to play to strangers. So much of his being is caught up in Windhelm’s grimy alleys, tangled in the hair and fingers of its discarded children; he doesn’t know how to be himself away from it all.

But they don’t have to, seeing as there’s the rickety old sawmill on the edge of a stream feeding into the harbour. It’s not bad, as shelter goes; no walls, so the wind rubs its fingers wraithlike down Torr’s cheeks and tangles them in his hair, but at least there’s a roof. It looks newly thatched, too, the floorboards free of rot, the water-wheel still chugging creakily along. There’s no wood to cut here, all the nearby surrounding trees too scraggy to be worth the bother. The only big ones are part of the grove up on the hill. There’s no point in keeping the mill running, but Torr is glad it is; he watches the distant firelight flickering through the scrub, and listens to the splashing of the wheel. It’s proof that people and the things they make do still exist – if not necessarily here.

It really feels dead, out in the cold, with the leafless trees and the wind that doesn’t even whisper. It always does. It’s a bit discomfiting, which is maybe why Torr doesn’t go on out-of-city endeavours as often as perhaps he could; but really, there’s not work out here enough to make it worth it. There’s always problems with bandits on the road, but Torr’s not a good enough fighter for bounty work; there’s collecting plants and things to sell Nurelion, but that’s easy enough to do on a day trip. (And, really, it’s more for Torr’s own enjoyment, besides. They never even venture far south enough to get to the sulphur pools, which is where the more interesting things grow.)

This trip, though, is an outlier. Unusually efficient. Just a quick job for Niranye, scouting a merchant’s cart on the road – almost definitely for something shady, but that’s not Torr’s business, and it was too much money too easy to turn down. And then – just earlier today, foraging out in the wilderness as best as Torr (a distinctly urban animal) knows how – they’d come across a giant’s corpse, stiff and white as the snow it lay in. Torr’s no master alchemist but they know the value of a cadaver when it comes to brewing alloys and admixtures, so they set to with their blunt-edged dagger and now they’ve got a sack full of what may as well be gold. (Long as it doesn’t start to rot before they can get Nurelion to preserve it, anyway.)

Torr’s going to be rolling in it when they get back to Windhelm. They could use that money for nearly anything – pay off a few things they borrowed, new warm things now that winter’s coming back strong, bedrolls, waterskins. Endless options – which, strangely, is more exciting than it is burdensome.

It’s all the sort of decision that would ordinarily feel life-or-death urgent but right now feels – not small. Not insignificant, not at all, but distant. A choice to be made at another time, by another person.

(Torr’s whole being belongs to Windhelm’s back streets. They’re someone else, away from it all.)

That’s the other thing about leaving the city, spending time in the discomfiting slow-paced ghost-world outside. It’s quiet. Torr sits surrounded by the wind in the trees, the lazy murmur of the stream, the creak of the water-wheel, and nothing else.

He’s been called a worrywart (mostly by Griss in a strop) but to tell the truth he doesn’t think that’s true. Torr doesn’t fuss for the sake of fussing, he just doesn’t like to leave things undone; can’t stop until he finds a solution. Out here, alone, in the empty cold, there are no solutions to find – same old problems back home, he knows, but no steps he can take at this time to right them. That’s never true while he’s in the city, so he can never stop thinking about it, every choice and action accompanied by a buzzing background chorus of everything else he really should be doing – that really should have been done by now – that should never have been left undone this long, what was he thinking? Everything is urgent when it’s doable. But here and now, there’s nothing to do.

So Torr sits hunched on the board floor of the ramshackle watermill, huddled among their heaps of bags and blankets, and thinks of nothing at all.

Not strictly true. They think of supper – haven’t eaten since an apple this morning, except for some snowberries they found around noon, and it’s been a long day. They nabbed some turnips from the garden of the Kynesgrove inn on their way to the mill. They’re fresh, if nothing else – also covered in dirt, so Torr rises reluctantly from their pile of stuff to crouch on the banks of the stream and dip the vegetables in to clean them off. It aches like hell, the frozen water turning their joints to ice – they almost drop the turnip they’re washing, so they scrub it as best they can with the frigid pad of their thumb and whip their hands out of the water soon as they’re able. They stick their fingers in their mouth to warm them back up.

Even after all that time spent warming up their hands, arraying all their belongings back around themself to conserve body heat, the turnips are still cold enough to hurt Torr’s teeth when he bites in. He eats them anyway, relishing a little in the unearthly silence and the aching of his lips and palms. They taste delicious.

With nothing else to do after, the gnawing of his stomach sated, he wraps himself in his shawl and stares up the hill at the camp’s fire until it goes out. The stars wink into brighter being. The wind whistles through the whip-thin branches of the trees. The water-wheel creaks.

Torr sleeps, but he feels like he hears it all – a silent observer, an echo, a beginning – until morning.

[makerofmadness]

Time for a vibe check

*sniff* *sniff* *sniff*

I detect that you have

Good vibes :3

!مرسی

[nicksolemnlyswears]

STAY WITH US

this oneshot can be read as a standalone.

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME (PT. 2 HELAENA'S TURN)

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader x helaena targaryen

word count: ~2.7k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of death of a child, mentions of blood, light cursing

a/n: so i lied, so sorry, my apologies, remember how i said i wanted this part to be smut? well it didn't happen. in the end it didn't seem right because these oneshots originated form a place of care and comfort [not horniness like usual]

that being said i am open to doing a series of small oneshots based on their relationship that are more spicy because regardless it lives rent free on my brain and i'd love to share the pervertedness they'd get up to. also i've never written a threesome and that seems like a good writing exercise.

hope you like this oneshot. it's really sweet and when i was thinking of what else to do with them it simply clicked. my only wish is for it to have the same comfort provoking feeling as the other two. while this little series was written as a way for me to feel better about these characters it makes me happy to know it served the same purpose for a lot of you guys. also this was my first time writing for HoTD and you're all so nice ;) THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE.

enjoy!

Without Jaehaerys by her side, his twin sister Jaehaera must adjust to being alone. Her lifelong playmate is gone, and now she ought to find her place as an only child.

The silver-haired girl restlessly jumps through different activities, searching for the one that will entertain her long enough without company. It is difficult because each time she successfully gets distracted, she turns to catch her brother's attention, only to find he's no longer there.

Queen Helaena watches her as she stitches together a new embroidery piece for a dress. The Queen spent her days with both her children, but now that one of them is gone, she spends nearly every waking moment with her daughter. Observing. Protecting. Alert.

"The three-headed dragon shall rise once more," Helaena mumbles under her breath. The maids ignore her mumblings. The Queen's words don't make sense half the time.

A squeal of delight from her daughter prompts the needle to pierce Helaena's finger and a bead of blood forms at the pad of it. Looking up, she finds you picking up Jaehaera and kissing her chubby cheeks. The girl is enamored by her cousin and the attention you provide.

"Good morrow, 'Laena," you brightly greet her, setting down Jaehaera and sitting by her on the floor. "Have you broken fast yet?"

Helaena places a hand in yours as a greeting and nods kindly, assuring you she's been eating all her meals. At times, her appetite turns into nausea as glimpses of her dead son invade her senses, but she tries fighting through it.

She closes her eyes and thinks of anything else—primarily you. You who distract her and treat her with such care without judgment of her eccentricities. It's odd how she's caught herself multiple times seeking your approval.

As Helaena returns to her stitching, Jaehaera bounces over and falls into your arms. "I wish for my hair to be like yours."

"Allow me, Princess," Jaehaera's nursemaid intervenes. She does not wish to be seen as lazy and incapable of her job to care for the children.

The small Princess holds tightly onto you, hiding her face on your chest as she settles on your lap. "No, I want my cousin to do it. She's a Princess, and I want Princess's hair."

You giggle at her words and gesture to the nursemaid that it's alright. "Come on, sweet girl, sit," you coo, positioning her in front of you.

One of the maids hands you a hairbrush, and you begin your work. As a Princess, your hair is mostly styled by your maids, but every lady should know how to style it appropriately.

"You're such a pretty girl, Jaehaera. Did you know that?" You talk to distract her from squirming too much. She's an impatient little thing, like her father.

Jaehaera giggles sound throughout the room. She hasn't laughed like that since her brother died. It brings a sad smile to Helaena's lips.

"You're prettier," Jaehaera whispers bashfully, her cheeks a healthy hue of pink.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're much more beautiful. Do you know why?"

Jaehaera shakes her head, causing you to hold tightly onto the intricate plaits you're weaving in her hair. You inadvertently smile at her benightedness.

"Because you look just like your mummy, and she's very beautiful, and she's a Queen," you gasp lightly, creating a tone of excitement in your voice.

Although she's kept her nose down while stitching, Helaena's cheeks burn just as brightly as her daughters. Your words continue to flatter her. You have a way with words that can make even the most ordinary of townsfolk feel special.

With a small, excited gasp, Jaehaera asks, "Will I be Queen one day?"

"There's always a possibility," you hum, pining the remaining plait into her hair. It is hard to explain the complexities of succession and legacy to a child when there is a current war debating that same subject. "All done, go over to the mirror."

"She adores you," Helaena sighs as she watches her daughter fawn over her new hairstyle.

"And I, her. She's the sweetest girl ever."

Helaena turns to look at you and sees the soft smile gracing your lips. Your eyes then catch hers, and your smile broadens. It makes her wonder what her life would be like if you were not around. How would she have dealt with her emotions?

"I must go, but can you come to my bedchambers tonight? There is a matter I must discuss with you," Helaena says timidly, casting aside her embroidery.

"As you wish, my Queen." You can't fault her for preferring to speak in the depth of the night when the castle sleeps, and there are no wandering eyes to pass judgment.

It gives Helaena whiplash when you effortlessly switch from calling her name to calling her 'my Queen.' She rather enjoys both terms, especially when you call her yours.

Helaena bids you farewell with a kiss on the cheek, blissfully unaware of its effect on you. Such displays of affection are not rare in court, but lately, their significance has changed for you, as Helaena has never been one to indulge in court etiquette when it involves physical touch.

When the sun has disappeared over the horizon, and the castle has quieted down, you make your way to the Queen's bed chambers.

You have always been inclined to stay in the shadows, where it's safe. You are a sheep amongst a den of wolves, and if you draw too much attention to yourself, danger will follow.

You have failed so far, considering you enjoy the company of the King and Queen. Grief unexpectedly brought you together and made your bond steadfast, but wherever Aegon and Helaena go, watchful gazes follow, thus making you part of the spectacle as well.

Otto and Alicent Hightower are taking the reins of this unnecessary war, but you feel safe under Aegon's and Helaena's careful watch. You believe they will protect you from any danger coming from within the castle walls, at the very least.

You're doing your mother a great disservice as you strengthen the bond of the King and Queen. The ache of losing a child will forever remain in their hearts, and waves of pain continue to crash, but that thick fog of grief that was cast upon them has slowly started to lift, thanks to you.

Pushing open the door to Helaena's bedchambers, you step into the room. It's well into the night, and the candlelight illuminates the room. You stumble over your steps when you notice Aegon and Helaena standing close together as if they were about to kiss.

"My apologies, your graces. I believed the Queen to be alone," you bow your head, red painting your cheeks. It's a gesture that originates from embarrassment rather than submissiveness.

"Do not apologize. We wished to speak to you," Aegon speaks, beckoning you deeper into the room.

He offers you a goblet of wine, which you accept gracefully to alleviate the dizzying wave of nerves you're feeling. You've never been alone with Aegon and Helaena. People have always been around, and up to a fortnight ago, they barely spoke to one another.

The ruling couple sought your counsel regarding their marriage, recognizing you as an intermediary. You offered your advice to the best of your abilities, considering you have yet to marry.

With time and encouragement, they reached out to each other for comfort. Piece by piece, they were able to speak and share the emotions that troubled them. Nonetheless, they kept you closer than ever.

You're the calm amidst the storm.

You take a drink of the sweet wine to busy yourself. Helaena and Aegon stand side by side, his hand on the small of her back as Helaena plays with her fingers. They're backlit by the fire burning by the fireplace. It casts a warm glow over their figures, making the situation seem much more intimate. You're certainly intruding.

"We wish to thank you for everything you've done for us recently," Helaena breaks the creeping silence. She's just as nervous as you are, if not more.

"Helaena and I have been thinking about how to repay you for your generosity," Aegon continues, staring intently back at you to gauge your reaction to his words. He's afraid of reading you wrong and fucking things up—like he usually does.

You instantly shake your head, "As I said before, there is no need-"

Helaena's following words cause silence to befall as you stare back at them in surprise. A sort of surprise they cannot read. "We wish to wed you," Helaena blurts nervously, her fingers twisting together.

This is not a moment to speak in riddles. Helaena is fully aware of the situation before her and wishes nothing more than for you to stay by their side, no matter the cost.

For once in her life, she hasn't felt lonely in the castle. She has an ally she can trust and confide in.

You've been the subject of Aegon and Helaena's conversations for numerous nights. At first, it was difficult to understand that they both held deep affection towards you while caring for each other. They debated for a long time about what to do about it and they agreed on one thing wholeheartedly—you only deserved the best.

Then, it came to Aegon.

He's named after Aegon' The Conqueror' Targaryen. The King took over the seven kingdoms with his sister wives by his side.

A simple Valyrian tradition would solve their dilemma while strengthening his claim to the throne. It's poetic, a part of history being re-enacted.

"Pardon?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You stare back at them with wide eyes as they jump from Aegon to Helaena and back to Aegon.

The goblet in your hand lightly shakes along with your hand. You place it on a nearby table, afraid of spilling it. Surely, you misheard.

"Our affection grows greater day by day. More than we ever thought possible," Helaena confesses, desperately reaching for your hand.

Your gaze falls on Aegon to seek his opinion, and he nods in agreement. There is not much to say. You have proved yourself valuable to them in a way that is much too important. You serve to keep them sane and emotionally stable. A feat no one has cared to accomplish before.

You do not use Aegon as a puppet or manipulate him to achieve sinister goals on behalf of his name, much like the rest of the court does. Those people only care for power, even if they break Aegon piece by piece. They destroy him while you take the time to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

"Such drastic actions must not be taken. I merely offered you comfort when you needed it because I care for you both," you stutter, pressing a hand to your forehead. All of a sudden, the room is warm, and a layer of perspiration forms on the back of your neck.

Aegon grunts and approaches you, cupping your face in his palms, "That is precisely why we wish to do this. You have cared for us like no one has before, including ourselves. You planted yourself in our souls, and now we cannot let you go lest we go insane. If you do not feel the same, say it, but do not lie to us."

His tone is firm, yet he cannot disguise the pleading behind it. He's never wanted something as much as he wants you.

"I-" Your palms ghost over the top of his.

It is all too much. The prospect of being wed looms over your head like a threat. Otto Hightower will have no qualms about using your lack of a husband as a war strategy. It should not be his decision in the first place, but it is out of your hands as you're considered a prisoner to him.

You would be a liar if you said you did not reciprocate their feelings. They've been present for a while now, it is why comforting them comes so easily to you. Seeing them hurt only pains you.

With this new opportunity, you will no longer be used. You will not be sold to some old lord in the countryside for the gain of a few hundred men. You would be protected.

Most importantly, you will marry a man and a woman who love you. Yes, they are broken, but with you by their side, they will thrive and rise to the occasion.

Aegon's lilac eyes beg you to accept their proposal. "I feel emotions I thought impossible. They are confusing and overwhelming, but they are real," you admit.

Relief floods over Aegon, and he can't help but release a sigh of relief. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a silent thank you to the old gods and the new.

"Will you become our wife? Our lifelong companion?" Helaena asks, coming up behind you. You feel her breath on your neck as she leans her head on your shoulder.

One word is enough to respond. One simple word will change your life. For good or bad is to be determined.

"Yes," you breathe, reaching for her hand. The smile on Aegon's lips and Helaena's giggles in your ear make it all worth it.

Aegon needed to do things right so no one could argue against your union. He contacted the Septon himself, and only a day later, after his proposal, the Valyrian ceremony took place.

He clearly instructed his guard and the Septon that they must not tell anyone, or there would be consequences.

The ceremony is quick and private amongst the gardens of the Red Keep. You wear the traditional red and gold robes and headpieces that match Aegon's.

A red dragon decorates the front of your garb, matching Helaena's golden one on her dress. She stands to the side with a faint smile, Jaehaera clinging to her dress.

Aegon carefully cuts your lip with the dragon glass. As blood surges to the surface, he presses his thumb to the cut and later spreads it across your skin. You repeat the same on his lips, staring apologetically back at him, yet the burning pain does not compare to the pain he's felt before. It's almost pleasurable as he takes in the symbolism of the gesture.

Cutting your palms, you let the blood that will bind you together for eternity fall onto the goblet. You lock eyes with Aegon as you take a drink from it, passing it to him a moment later.

He was not raised surrounded by Targaryen customs, but he has a new deep appreciation for them. The ceremony is deeply intimate as they share the blood that will mark them as one.

With a couple of final words, the Septon concludes the ceremony and with the knowledge that you are entirely theirs, Aegon crashes his lips against yours.

Aegon stayed firm in his words. He did not wish to sully your name, so he waited until the moment was right. The reward is much too sweet.

It is the first time you've shared a kiss with Aegon, and it is unlike anything you've felt before. In the past, you've snuck kisses in dark corners of the Red Keep, but none have ever kissed you with the intensity Aegon has to offer.

Helaena approaches your tangled embrace, and as you resurface for a breath, she presses her much more delicate lips on yours. The kiss is so different yet the same simultaneously. The intent behind it is identical while the pace is slower and sultrier.

Yours and Aegon’s blood coats her lips and it’s as if she also partook on the ceremony. Your heart beats intensely inside your chest but you’re happy.

Finally, you three are bonded, destined to stay together for eternity.

Jaehaerys will forever be missed. His life has become a mystery; Aegon and Helaena will never see it fulfilled. But in this tragedy, the gods were kind to Aegon and Helaena and provided a new person to love, cherish, and join their family.

were you expecting a good old throuple situation? eh, eh (pretend i'm wiggling my eyebrows and nudging your side with my elbow). im just saying she's perfect for their little dysfunctional family and the drama it will create with the Hightowers and Targaryens? immaculate.

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and gushing about hel and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

[beegalactica]

hot girl tips to be more productive

With a million things to do, where do we find the time? Sometimes it can be so easy to just procrastinate, not do your work and keep pushing it back till it's too late. Let's not do that anymore.

5-minute rule - start small. If you've been putting something off for a long time, trying to commit 1 hour to it can be challenging. You can't do a marathon without a warm-up first! Could you set a timer for 5 minutes to do that task? After 5 minutes if you want to continue, go for it; if you don't, that's okay, because at least you've done 5 minutes today, which is better than 0. Tomorrow or later in the day, try to challenge yourself to do 7 minutes this time, then 10, then 15, and you will get into that rhythm.

Eliminate distractions - it's all because of that damn phone 🙄 but seriously, tech and social media can have such a tight grip over our productivity and our attention. If you cannot control your usage, set app timers that lock the app after you use it for a certain amount of time or delete the app. I've been using a minimalist phone launcher called 'OLauncher' that removes all my icons and makes me manually have to type and search for the app. In the time it takes me to search for the app, I get to ask myself, "What am I looking for? Do I need to use it for something specific or do I just want to scroll?"

Schedule properly - note down all your commitments and non-negotiables in an app like Google Calendar and make sure all your big events are displayed there. Some people can fall into the habit of planning every second of their day, but I instead delegate a few tasks to each day and give myself any time within the day to complete them, the important thing being not when I do them, but that I do them in the end.

Write to-do lists - now this doesn't just mean in-app lists, which are very useful. Physically write them out. I use a scrap piece of paper and I write: "Today I WILL..." and then list all the things I want to get done. Having it written down helps me commit to it more and the feeling of ticking it is so satisfying.

Know your WHY - Why are you doing this? Why do you want to be more productive? Why do you want to study more? Always look at the bigger picture. Where do you want to be and how will your productivity help you get there?

Celebrate your wins - whether you completed all the things on your to-do list or just one, be proud of it. Some days, you will feel super motivated and fly through all your tasks, and other days you just want to stay in bed and do nothing. Making an effort is the first step to your success.

No matter whether your goal is to complete a project, get good grades, get into the school of your dreams, or just get your work out of the way so you can focus on other things, tackle it little by little. Just 20 minutes every day for a week is better than trying to do 140 minutes worth of work on the last day.

[yoongihan]

Congratulations - KSM - OneShot

pairing: seungmin x female reader

genre: smutty fluff, university au,

romantic trope: Best Friend's Brother (inspiration from this reel)

word count: 2200 (at this point, this is the shortest of my stories)

rating: M for smut-adjacent (acts have already been committed and our mc thinks about them quite a bit)

warnings: language (i don't think i've ever written a fic without using 'fuck'), drinking (everyone is of age) but not wasted, penetrative safe sex has occurred, fingering has occurred, kissing, some misunderstand/not communicating, i think seungmin is pretty damn dreamy in this.

a/n: my first fic in the skz as romantic tropes collab with @jl-micasea-fics! couple things - the parentheticals are the mc remembering what has happened, parenthetical italics are the actual flashbacks. i really really enjoyed writing this one, so i hope it's remotely as enjoyable to read. thank you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So…”

“So…”

He looks a lot different like this. The Seungmin you know usually looks very put together, no hair out of place like even the wind obeys him. He doesn’t iron his clothes or anything, but he does fold each piece really carefully (you and Soomin once watched him spend nearly four minutes on folding a polo shirt, after which you both made fun of him for a good half hour). His skin, like Soomin’s, is flawless 99% of the time, and you think you’ve seen him flush only in anger over the years. And it was never like he is now, skin almost mottled with varying hues of red and pink. His hair is all over the place, the black strands defying gravity. 

There’s definitely the beginnings of a bruise on the side of his neck.

He’s a bit of a jock, sure. You’ve watched him play baseball, but you don’t remember him breathing quite as heavily as he is right now. He is normally calm and composed, with a quick rejoinder toward Soomin and you about your most recent catastrophe at school (Science is the bane of your existence, for Soomin it’s history) or adventure in sneaking into a college party. Now you’re all at university, so any sneaking is unnecessary (and really not fun at all). 

His dark eyes are bright with something untamed, though the longer you stare at him, the more that wildness, that almost unhingedness seems to fade.

A shame, really. 

You both jump at the sound of someone in the living room, stumbling over something. The cursing that follows lets you know that it’s Changbin. 

“Seungmin,” he calls through the closed bedroom door. “You’ll have to clean up since it was your party.” Then the footsteps fade out down the hall. 

Soomin, you, and Seungmin are all in your third year. You and Soomin room together on campus while Seungmin lives off campus with Felix and Changbin. Soomin is regularly your partner when parties are the evening’s plans, but she was sick tonight.

“Go. Support my stupid brother because, and I’ll kill you if you tell him, getting an article published in The Scientific Journal for Undergraduate Research is a big deal. And I’m proud of him.”

So you do. You eat, drink, be very merry; even congratulate Seungmin with actual sincerity even though you’re sure he knows he’s that smart and probably believes it’s his due.

You may have had a few drinks, but you aren’t drunk by any means. College has definitely upped your tolerance level, so when Seungmin admits to you that he doesn’t think it’s that good of an article and that now his professors want him to be their TA and go to graduate school here and he’s not even sure he likes research that much, you put your hand on his arm, give it a squeeze and tell him that it’ll be okay. He can do anything he wants and you’ll always be impressed with him. 

(“You mean that?” he asks and you shrug, recognizing that the alcohol may have lowered your normal inhibitions.

“Of course. It’s annoying actually, how good you are at everything."

He covers your hand that’s still on his arm. “You think I’m good at everything?”

You roll your eyes, a little flustered at his singular attention and the warmth of his skin on yours. “I mean, I can hypothesize,” He smirks at your pedestrian use of scientific terminology. “I certainly don’t know all your skills.”

You both stare at each other, the unintended subtext taking effect.

“You could. If you wanted to.”)

And that’s how you end up where you are currently.

In bed with your best friend’s brother. 

“I should….” You finally look away from his still pink face, eyes dropping to that mark on his neck, courtesy of your greedy mouth. “I should go.” You turn, letting the comforter fall since your back is to him now, and grab the first discarded article of clothing you can find on the floor. As you slip it on, you recognize it’s definitely not your shirt. “Oh.”

“You can wear it.” His voice reminds you of woodworking, when you sand and sand a piece of wood until it’s smooth. His words and tone usually are so sharp, but in the quiet of his bedroom, it sounds soft. 

You yank it off and grab the black top that is actually yours, trying not to care that you are definitely naked and he can see you (where was that worry an hour ago when he was undressing you in between heated kisses?). You slide off the bed and hunt your underwear, putting those on before answering.

“Pretty sure your sister would recognize if I came home in your clothes.” Your voice is not soft and smooth at all. It’s ragged like broken glass. You can’t claim any innocence in this; you had been in your right mind, and you had wanted it. 

You had wanted Seungmin.

(Stumbling into his bedroom, his mouth and hands feel like they’re everywhere. You shove off his shirt, admiring the reveal of skin with both your eyes and hands.)

Zipping up your nice pair of jeans, you glance back over at him. He’s still sitting in his bed, sheets covering his lower half. He’s not beefy or anything, but the baseball he still plays for intramurals keeps him toned.

(He giggles when you trace a finger up his side, grabbing your hand to stop its ascent.

“Ticklish?” you ask the obvious. 

“No.” A lie. He drags your hand down to the button and zipper of his jeans. “Just want your hand somewhere else.”

You can’t really argue.)

“I…” he seems at a loss for words. Another first as far as you’re concerned. “You aren’t going to tell her?”

“God no.” You move to his desk and grab your thin cardigan, jerking it on. You can feel his gaze on you. It shouldn’t still affect you, the post-sex regrets should overwhelm any desire.

“But you two tell each other everything.”

“This would…” you trail off, watching him raise up out of bed, pulling on his boxers. You should completely not be eyeing him like this, but despite the prime opportunity you just had, you feel like it wasn’t enough. 

“This would what?”

He’s standing a few feet away from you and your brain is telling you to leave, to grab your purse that’s somewhere by the front door, and go back to campus because that’s what you do with a one-night stand. But you can’t move. 

He touches your arm as he passes to the other side of his bed, grabbing the t-shirt you discarded. You hone in on his fingers and how lightly they brush your skin.

(“You have to tell me, you know,” he says through shortened breaths. “I can’t read your mind.” 

“I thought you were good at everything?” you tease before gasping when his fingers curve just right. He does it again and your gasp is louder.

His smirk is so knowing, you would say something if you could think. “Guess you don’t have to say anything.” His kiss is far more gentle than the onslaught he's wreaking on your libido.)

“This would…I think her brain would explode, honestly. And I would prefer to keep her intact. I can’t break in a new best friend.”

He regards you thoughtfully. This is familiar. This assessing of his. You assumed he always found you wanting, but after what just happened, you aren’t so sure.

“Let me drive you back.”

He’s so hard to read. Except when he’s…

You are never going to banish those visual memories. Deep down, you admit you wouldn’t want to. 

“It’s not far.”

He sighs as he puts on his pants and says your name. “I’m not letting you walk back. It’s after two am.”

“Fuck, it is?” 

He sits back on the bed, slipping on his socks. “Yeah.”

“I can call a–”

“I’m driving you back.”

You bristle. “Look, just because we fucked doesn’t mean I start listening to you.”

“But you did,” he says easily, walking back to where you stand, now just a foot away. “Didn’t you?”

Sensations; sounds, tastes, scents flood you with just his words. Him asking you to put the condom on, to touch him, to kiss him, to stroke him. Instructing you to roll your hips just like that, to tug his hair, to let him make you feel good. 

“Well, who’s actually themselves when fucking?”

He doesn’t say anything for a second or two. “I am.” He heads toward the door. “Come on.”

You don’t want to spend money on an Uber, or walk back in the frigid cold, but you also don’t want to give in to him. 

(“Relax, pretty,” he murmurs. 

“I am.” 

He smiles warmly, eyes dark before he presses a soft kiss to your nose. “Stubborn, but I like that about you.”)

But you do.

Seungmin drives a beat-up Hyundai hybrid that you know almost as well as Soomin’s equally as beat-up truck, or your dented sedan. You slide in after letting out a sigh of relief that no one was up and about to observe your walk of shame. He turns the heat on high, before grabbing something from the back and handing it to you. It’s a hoodie. 

“I'm wearing a jacket.”

“To cover your legs. Those jeans aren’t warm.”

“How would you–” Oh right, he’d slid his hands up them to unbutton and unzip. You close your eyes tight when you think about how he’d pulled them down, letting his mouth drag along your bare legs. 

Seungmin liked using his teeth. You won’t forget that. Ever.

You set the hoodie on your lap so he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together. 

“Seatbelt.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” You go to grab it, but he leans over to do it for you, head down to click it in place. He smells like your perfume. It works for him. “I can do it myself.” You wrinkle your nose at the petulance in your voice.

He lifts his eyes to you, not moving back into the driver's seat. He’s so close, that mouth of his inches away. You could kiss him and you want to, but you don’t. 

He settles back into his seat and puts the car into reverse. He doesn’t turn on the radio, seeming to be perfectly fine with the silence.

Is he okay with the awkwardness? Probably. He would be, always perfectly comfortable when everyone else is freaking out and wondering what the fuck they were thinking and how do they salvage normalcy after something as monumental as fucking.

But you aren’t going to say anything because sex isn’t that big a deal. Even if it’s with Seungmin, your ‘ride or die’ best friend’s twin brother who you’ve always thought was cute, certainly handsome, stupid smart, and maybe a little wicked. 

His smirk is a case-study in attractive villain-smirking.

It’s no more than ten minutes to get on campus and to your dormitory. But the silence feels like the length of a director’s cut of a movie; interminable. 

He pulls up to the curb and puts the car into park, before resting his arm on the back of the passenger seat. He doesn’t say anything.

“Thanks for the ride–the ride home.” You stumble over your words because every single thing feels like it has innuendo attached. You try to compose your face before looking over at him, offering the hoodie. 

He takes it and tosses it in the back before meeting your gaze.

“You’re welcome.”

You swallow, his current tone too close to his bedroom voice. 

“And congrats again. Really.” 

“Thank you. Really.”

The repetition feels like mockery, and you glare at him instinctively. 

“Yeah, well, don’t forget us when you’re taking the science world by storm…however one even does that–”

His mouth is on yours and you’re pretty sure you squeak at the surprise, before melting into his warmth, the slick heat of his tongue, and how his hand cradles your cheek. 

“I wouldn’t forget you,” he murmurs against your lips. Another kiss, this one sweeter before he draws back. “Give me some warning if you tell Soomin, okay?”

“Why would I tell her?”

You see the movement of his throat as he swallows. “You might. Because I’m gonna ask you out in the next 24 hours and it’ll be easier to explain why you say yes if she knows.”

It takes several moments for your brain to process all that information and he’s kissing you again which halts any understanding your brain hoped to find. You don’t realize that your arms are around his neck, fingers in his hair, until he pulls back. 

“So…you’re gonna say yes?” 

You open your eyes to see that he still looks like Seungmin: a ruffled, flushed Seungmin, his eyes more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen. 

“I…”

He starts to let go of you, but your hold on him tightens. 

“Maybe make it 48 hours so she can try and wrap her mind around the fact that her bff is into her brother.”

His answering smile is so bright that you kiss him again, and it takes another five minutes before you get out of the car.

~~~ 

Soomin doesn’t combust like you expect. In fact, she raises her eyebrow and scarily looks as smug as her brother when she says: 

“About damn time.” 

-----------------------------

(c) yoongihan 2024. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

[headspace-hotel]

i'm...thinking about writing a book?

I mean. I feel really silly at the thought because i'm not like a scientist or anything, i'm barely at the beginning of my knowledge journey, but...being a writer was what I always wanted to do. It's what I've been doing ever since I could remember. And I'm constantly, constantly just so full of things that I want to tell the whole world. I will have a realization or idea and think, oh my god. Everyone needs to know this. But I can't tell everyone. I'm not good at talking.

I'm good at writing. But I will sit down to write a post on my silly little blog and get so overwhelmed by the SCALE of everything I want to say.

I think I've already started to write a book. I think the space for these ideas to fill is already the size of a book and it will never have any smaller of a size, and no one else will come along to write the book, and no one else CAN write the book, and IT HAS TO BE WRITTEN.

I want to write about the ways of the plants, of course. I want to teach how to transplant and how to gather seeds and the properties of keystone species...but more importantly, I want to write about how to learn the ways of the plants. I want to promote the habit of insatiable curiosity and intense observation. I want to show everyone that everything everywhere is infinitely interesting and mysterious, and if you pay attention to the plants, they will teach you.

I want to write about Symbiosis. I want to write about how we are connected to every other thing, how we have our own ecological niche as Caretakers, and our own special adaptations of curiosity and love. I want to write about how the ecosystem needs us to participate in it, not to cut ourselves off from it, and how our powerful influence on ecosystems can be for good or for bad. We are not a disease. We are a Keystone Species.

I want to discourage this Euro-centric idea that sees humans as separate, and recommend more reading from indigenous points of view that understands ecosystems better and sees humans as participants in nature, engaging in a reciprocal symbiotic relationship. I want to speak against all this talk about removing humans from half of the Earth or reducing the human population, and show other people that despair and fear make you paralyzed and powerless, but hope is powerful.

The most important and powerful thing you can do for your ecosystem is to love it. It is necessary to have hope for the future—to learn to imagine a future of restoration and renewal, and to build community with other people working toward that future.

If we don't imagine a future for our ecosystems, imagine them boldly and audaciously in ways that feel crazy and impossible, those futures will not happen. But just the act of saying, "This WILL happen. We WILL be okay." gives you the strength and energy to fight and it gives you the creativity to come up with solutions you never could have thought of before.

And I feel I have to explain, how did I end up listening to plants? And how did the teachings become so important that I had to write about them? There's this black, swallowing abyss underpinning all of who I am, some intimation of a reality so terrible the human spirit breaks beneath it. I had a mental health crisis back in 2021 where I was pulled deep into that abyss, and when I started rescuing little plants and caring for them, I was basically re-learning how to be human.

I feel like I was seeking answers to "How am I supposed to live in this world?" in the natural world because the human world of poetry and books and articles and think-pieces had utterly failed me in that regard. I had taken multiple poetry classes where I had read all the best contemporary poems, and all the poets just wrote flat, plodding, blunt descriptions of their trauma and despair. Nothing is wrong with these topics, but the worst part was how these authors didn't even take themselves seriously; they had to be detached and ironic about their own pain, like a snarky dystopian novel hero who jokes casually about the horrific reality they live in so the reader knows that this reality is normal and unremarkable to them—and even more importantly, that the hero is ironic and cool instead of responding in a vulnerable, human way.

And speaking of dystopian novels...there were a lot of those! It was like all the visions of the future I had read were dystopian. Even I had been writing a dystopian novel. But I realized that I wasn't wise enough to tell that story yet. I didn't know why at first. But then, as I was reading everything people were writing about climate change, I began to realize.

I saw a lot of patterns between the way people wrote about climate change and the tendencies of self-harm and self-defeat that gnawed inside me. Suicide was something that I had never struggled against, but I understood that suicide was only the most striking manifestation of a self-annihilating way. Sometimes you feel like by hurting yourself, you are being transgressive, exercising autonomy against an absolute, crushing reality. It doesn't have to be physical hurt; it can just be deciding no one will like you and denying yourself love, or thinking "Well, there's no use hoping for anything good to happen."

This is how people talk about climate change. They fantasize about extreme, horrific scenarios and talk as if the Earth is already dead and destroyed, and they talk about humans hatefully and as if they were a disease, and then congratulate themselves for seeing how bad it REALLY is instead of being in denial. It is easy for people to get attached to this and even get mad when someone suggests there might be hope, simply because self-harm can be very psychologically reinforcing.

It is common to call these responses "climate grief." But as I came into this very simple and quiet yet profound encounter with Nature, she had an answer to this philosophy that was perfectly gentle and placid and yet caustic enough to strip paint:

"HOW CAN YOU WISH FOR THE STRENGTH TO GRIEVE THE EARTH, WHEN YOU WERE NEVER STRONG ENOUGH TO LOVE IT?"

I realized, with a breaking heart, that I had always hated and resented my back yard and my home town, because it was an ugly place that seemed to me "Already destroyed," and my soul ached for woods and wilderness.

It had taken me 20 years to fully admit my love of nature, because I felt like there was no point in acting upon it—everything would get destroyed anyway.

I had not been brave enough to love the woods across the road, the creeks and the hills, because they were so fragile in a world that didn't respect them, they could be destroyed by some housing development at any time. So I just accepted that it was already a lost cause.

But it was time to be brave enough—not to accept despair, but to choose hope.

To grow up, first we had to become strong and get rid of silly beliefs like hope and fairness and love. But now, we have to become even stronger and start believing in those things again.

[shootingstarpilot]

Do you have any advice for writing Mace Windu?

Hello friend! I've been sitting on this for a while, because everyone's got their own interpretations, but mine is based on an idea I was struggling to put words to.

(Caveat that I have not read Legends material, that people can write what they like, etc. etc.)

The way I see it, Lucas specializes in writing stories in terms of themes and archetypes. This is why certain dialogue choices or the development of certain relationships can be... clunky, let's go with that. Characters (Obi-Wan and Anakin fall into their own category, sure) are written primarily as archetypes. You have Yoda as the wise old sage, Sidious as the ultimate evil-

And Mace Windu as the ultimate good.

We see this in the Chancellor's office, right? During the final showdown. This is the moment where Anakin makes his choice- stay in the Light or Fall- and the characters visually representing that choice are Palpatine and Mace. He's the Master of the Order. He's raised a Padawan who sits on the Council with him. He's an incredibly skilled swordsman- hell, his fighting style of choice (Vaapad) epitomizes how clearly he's mastered the art of internal balance!

All of that to say- his whole character is built around the idea that he is the Good Guy. That would be the one piece of writing advice I would give. If you're wondering how to write him, start with that idea- that he is written to represent the absolute opposite of Sidious. He's the ultimate good. He is the illuminating Light to Sidious' corrupting Dark. This is why antagonistic portrayals of him never ring true to me- they're coming from a foundational understanding that I simply do not subscribe to. It reeks of a fundamental misunderstanding of his character and of the whole saga's themes.

(And also racism. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the racism that too often plays a significant role.)

All of that being said, what might it look like to write from the foundation of Mace being the representation of ultimate good? The good thing about characters being written as archetypes is that it gives us fans a significant amount of freedom in determining what those characters look like when they're written as characters. Different people will have different takes, but for me:

Well, first off- he's the epitome of a Jedi. So all of what that entails- he is fundamentally kind, fundamentally compassionate, and fundamentally in control of himself.

He's funny. I think he has a very dry sense of humor, and that he finds joy in the smallest things.

He loves so much. He loves his Padawan, he loves his friends, he loves his family, he loves the Republic- he loves the galaxy enough to go to war for it, and he loves the men who'll kill his people.

There will never be a situation where he has the capacity to help and chooses not to.

And last but not least, I choose to believe that this man can bake pastries with the best of them. In my heart of hearts, he's a stress baker, and he mends his socks with purple thread.

Hope this helps!

[rkvriki]

PAIRING ! rich jock!jake x mechanic!reader

SYNOPSIS ! Always having had this passion for cars and fixing them, you found the perfect summer job as a mechanic! Working in a mechanic shop where everyone that worked there was friends with each other was perfect until the friend that didn't work there showed up to get his car fixed.

WARNINGS ! i don't understand a single thing abiut cars or how to fix them it was all googled; jake has daddy-ish? issues; horrendously written angst; reader and jake get pretty heart broken but i cant write angst so its awful; reader thinks jake cheated yikes; curse words; drinking alcohol; reader and jake both have anxiety; reader talks about her past and not having many friends; slighlty suggestive talk but minor friendly! i think it's all, warn me if otherwise!!

word count : 18.9k lol PLEASE READ! so i want to warn everyone that reads this that this story is not my best. I wrote this during a huge writers block and I've never written something as long as this. I know there are flaws and things that could be better, so I'm all open to tips and advice on how to be better at this kind of stories. I would love to write more of this lenght fics even if my blog was not created for that but its a path i would like for it to take. I really apologize if this story doesn't reach your expectations, but I'm only starting so please be nice patient with me. i hope you enjoy this at least a little bit !

Summer jobs were a student’s worst enemy. The desperation of wanting money to go on a trip with friends led anyone to get the first job they could get their hands on. That’s how you end up at your friend's boyfriend's mechanic shop. Sohee told you about his shop when she found out you were looking for summer jobs to get money for your long-planned trip and knew her boyfriend was looking for employees. Everyone who knew you well enough knew you had a special love for cars and were good at fixing some car-related problems. Ever since you were a little child you were always running behind your father when he did some fixing around his car and as you grew up you learned a few things, enough to have friends call you occasionally to fix their cars. You were a little hesitant to accept this job, you had never fixed any big thing in a car and this job looked like it required more knowledge than you had, still after considering how much you needed the money you accepted your friend’s offer. 

Sohee explained that only a few people were working around and they were all her boyfriend’s, Heeseung, friends. Heeseung, who ran the shop, does any kind of job around and fixes business and partnership offers, Jungwon worked during the weekends in class months and worked full time during summer break and usually worked in simple things like changing tires and cleaning the cars, Sunghoon who polishes the cars along with Sunoo who also paints and wraps them, Jay worked with changing heavy car pieces and finally, Ni-ki who was friends with all of them and the youngest amongst them all, was also doing this as a summer job and he was in charge of painting costume designs in cars. The 6 of them formed a friend circle along with another one, Jake – who didn’t seem to be working here since he most likely didn’t need to, seeing that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and has always been more privileged than the rest of them in Sohee’s words.

Putting on your jacket and grabbing your keys you made your way out. The weather was hot and you were already regretting putting a jacket on as soon as you entered your car and felt how hot it was inside. You started the car, turned the ac on, waited until you could breathe properly, and felt like you wouldn’t melt in the car seat. You grabbed your phone and pasted the mechanic shop address in the GPS app. It wasn’t too far from your house, which you were grateful for since it meant you didn’t need to wake up extra early to reach the shop in time. The drive was quiet, the traffic was low, and deep down you wished it was high just so you could have time to calm your nerves. The app indicated that you were a minute away so you looked around the street until you spotted a sign that read Gearbox Garage. You made a turn and pulled into the small driveway the shop had to park cars. You turned your car off and took a deep breath as you pulled your keys out and got out of the car. You walked to the front of the shop and it looked empty, making you think that maybe you should’ve given Heeseung a call before coming. Looking at the time on your phone, it marked 2:30 pm meaning they could be on lunch break. You walked into the shop and looked around, the shop was well organised for a mechanic shop, it wasn’t as dirty as you expected it to be but small oil puddles and thrown cloths could be seen here and there. There were only a few cars, not that you expected more since the place wasn’t the biggest. Taking one more look around, you saw a door with a sign that said staff only, you walked towards it and knocked, hoping somebody would open it and it would be Heeseung. You waited a few seconds until a tall man opened it with a sandwich in his hand and sauce and bread crumbs in the sides of his mouth. He looked at you with a confused expression as he leaned in the doorway.

“Um I’m here to talk with Heeseung, I’m friends with his girlfriend and she told me he’s looking for one more person to work here so-” you were cut off as the man walked away and shouted, “Heeseung hyung, there’s someone for you!” a faint coming could be heard in the distance as another figure started approaching the door. Said Heeseung appears in front of you. “So you must be the y/n Sohee’s always talking about?” he said looking at you with an extended hand, waiting for you to shake it. You took his hand in yours as you shook it, hoping he didn’t notice how sweaty it was from your nerves. “Ah yeah, that’s me! I’m assuming she told you how I wanted the job, right?” “Oh yes, she did tell me about it and I just need you to answer a few questions to know whether you can get the job is that ok?” Shit, smile and nod y/n. You quickly nodded at his words, hoping he wouldn’t ask if you knew how to do complex things. “I just need to know what kind of things you can fix or have done.” “Oh! I have done quite a few things, I’ve changed oils, fixed engine chains, changed batteries, changed tires and other small fixes.” you nodded and fiddled nervously with your fingers, silently hoping this was enough to have him accept you to this job. Heeseung nodded and slightly smiled at your words and extended his hand again. You looked at his hands and then at him and he laughed at your confusion. “Seems like you’re our newest employee, welcome!” you let out a breath of relief and shook his hand again. “Oh my god, thank you so much! I promise I'll try my best.” you said firmly as you offered him a smile. “No need to thank me. We really need one or two more employees so you’re big help right now. Anyways, you can start maybe tomorrow at 9 am?” “Oh sure, I can, see you tomorrow then!” Heeseung nodded at you and went back to the staff room as you made your way out to your car.

As soon as you sat in your car you immediately texted Sohee, thanking her for having such a nice boyfriend. You put your phone down and sigh happily. You got the job now, what could go wrong? Now you just need to focus on working hard and getting that money to go on that trip.

The sound of your alarm made you stir awake. You groaned as you stretched out and let your arms fall limp in bed with a loud thump. You closed your eyes as you let out a sigh, getting mentally ready for your first day at work. Getting out of bed, you made your way to the bathroom to take your morning shower. You turned the water on and let it warm a little bit before you went in. The warm water felt relaxing against your skin, an almost therapeutic feeling. As you washed yourself you started thinking about how would your first day at work, hoping you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of the rest of the boys and could get along with them. Now, it wasn’t like you had a hard time making friends, quite the opposite. Still, you were always a little awkward when you first met people, all thanks to your constant overthinking, never knowing if people enjoyed talking to you or not. You could say you had a pretty vast friend group but you weren’t as close with anyone as you were with Sohee. She has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. She’s been there for you anytime you needed and you for her. Sohee was the one who helped you come out of your comfort zone and try new things. Without her, you wouldn’t enjoy your teenage years as much as you did, hell, if it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t even dream of going on the damn trip.

You got out of the shower and stepped in front of the mirror, wiping some of the steam off of it. You started doing your normal skincare routine that, normally, would be a relaxing moment for you, but now you were only thinking about how you could be getting ready to head to the beach with your friends and drink a cocktail while tanning, and now you were only harshly rubbing the products on your face with irritation. Taking a deep breath you moved to your room to finish getting ready so you could leave the house as soon as you could. You looked in the mirror, taking in your appearance one last time before leaving the house, not that the way you looked right now mattered because you were more than sure that sooner or later you would be covered in oil and car fluids so you opted for your old overalls with an old shirt underneath.

The drive downtown was quiet and easy-going, still, there was some traffic since everyone started their work around the same time. The car’s clock indicated that it was 8:50, making you relieved that you weren’t gonna be late on your first day of work. Making the already familiar last turn, you reached the shop, parking in the lot it had inside. You got out of the car and instantly felt the slight summer breeze that ran through the morning air. Walking inside the shop, you could already hear some shuffling going on around the shop. As you got in further, you saw Heeseung who probably hasn’t noticed your presence yet from his crouched position, cleaning up some tools and putting them in a separate box. 

“Good morning, Hee!” you greeted, startling him. He got up and turned to face you with a surprised expression. “Oh hey, y/n! Wasn’t expecting you to be this early, though.” He said, chuckling as he wiped his hands with a cloth. “Well, you know, didn’t wanna be too late on my first day of work, I guess,” you said, swinging yourself back and forth, avoiding his gaze, feeling kinda awkward with yourself for worrying so much about being on time. “Usually the other boys come super late since they come all together so you shouldn’t worry about being on time here. Also, we’re supposed to be all friends here, so don’t put too much pressure on yourself about working here, it’s all chill here!” Heeseung said, trying to reassure and comfort you. “I guess it’s just a matter of time for me to get used to it.” you clapped your hands behind your back as you finished talking. “Anyways, should I start working?” you suggested. “Oh, yeah. Actually, there’s a car that needs an oil change, so maybe you could start by doing that.” Heeseung said, pointing to a red car that was already up in the hydraulic lift. “Sure thing!”

You put on some gloves that Heeseung gave you and started getting to work. Changing oil was something you did quite a lot, it was one of the first things your dad taught you, something that was so hard for you back then is now a piece of cake for you. Having a passion for cars made learning things way easier for you. Obviously, this old passion of yours wasn’t seen as a good thing for some people. Some would tell you girls shouldn’t be working with cars as it was the role for the boys or that you should be playing with your dolls instead of getting in your dad’s way while he was fixing his car. Of course, your little kid self felt awful hearing such things, but your parents would always reassure you that it didn’t matter what they said and that it was okay to want to learn those things. As time went by, people stopped commenting less and less. As you grew up you learned how to stand up for yourself and you wouldn’t leave those people without a response, and with time they learned how to mind their own business.

As you waited for the oil to fully drain, you heard a car pull up in the parking lot and the rest of the five boys arrived together, just as Heeseung had mentioned previously. You got up from your kneeling position and turned to look at them as they all got in and greeted Heeseung. Their loud voices quickly filled the place that was once only filled by the quiet tunes from Heeseung’s playlist and the occasional clanking of tools hitting the floor. You went back to work as they all talked with each other and started getting ready to work. You heard steps coming in your direction, making you look back to where it came from, seeing Jungwon walking towards you with his dimples on display.

“Good morning, y/n! You know it’s weird seeing someone who’s not Heeseung working here this early.” Jungwon said as he walked towards you, chuckling to himself. Stopping what you were doing, you turned all your attention to him. “Guess someone needed to give him some company, no?” you said putting your hands on your hips. “Keep going like that and he might give you the “employee of the month” title,” he said, making you laugh at him. “Anyways, what are you doing?” he asked, nodding at the car above you on the lift. “Oh, changing some oil, was about to put a new filter on.” you said as you pointed at the car’s oil pan, “Shouldn’t you get to work as well?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him, making him scowl at you. “Don’t remind me, Heeseung gave me a shit ton of cars to clean, got work for a whole week,” he said rolling his eyes. Jungwon walked away to start working on his cleaning duty and you put your focus back on the oil filter.

Soon enough, it was lunchtime and the seven of you were all gathered in the staff room. You were all talking about multiple things and something that came to conversation was how they had never seen you around campus.

“I mean, I guess I’m not necessarily a social butterfly and we might not even have classes in the same place, so that might explain why we never crossed paths.” you explained as you ate some of your tuna-mayo wrap you brought from home, they all hummed in agreement. “What are you majoring in, though?” Sunghoon asked you as he looked up from his lunchbox. “Oh, I study computer science!” “Oh really? Then you must know Jake? Jake Sim? He shares a few classes with comp sci students” Heeseung asked, surprised to know you were in the same major as his best friend. You hummed in thought as the name sounded familiar. “It does ring a bell but I’m not really adding a face to the name though.” You said slightly tilting your head to the side as you tried your best to remember who the hell was Jake Sim. “Yeah, let’s just say his attendance isn’t exactly the highest…” Heeseung said as he hissed quietly. “Oh… yeah that must explain why I don’t remember him then.” You said chuckling. “Don’t misunderstand it. It’s not like he doesn’t care about classes, I mean he kinda doesn’t, but he is much more focused on football.” Heeseung paused as if he was in deep thought. “Jake knows if anything school-related goes wrong for him he can just take over his dad’s business, which most likely will happen.” You hummed, understanding what he meant.  

It wasn’t rare for jocks like Jake to skip classes and ignore the fact that they need to graduate. Still, some of them were lucky to have successful family businesses, like Jake was. His father was one of the most prestigious CEOs and businessmen of Seoul and even the whole of South Korea. He led one of the most famous costume software development companies around, starting in a small office in Seoul that, over the years, grew all over the country’s most famous districts. Jake obviously was following his father’s steps, deciding to follow the computer science field so one day he could take over his father’s business. Was this his dream? No. Did he really wanna be a future CEO? Also no. He was doing this solely because he knew his dad would never approve of his younger son pursuing a football career. His older brother, Jaewoo, was already following the business field and Jake was just expected to do the same as him and since the older sibling decided not to work in his father’s company, he was the last hope to keep the business going so he felt like he had no other option. He felt suffocated knowing that everyone had high expectations for him, having people constantly asking him if he was happy to know he would take over the oh-so successful business, to which he obviously smiled and nodded but deep down he felt mad, almost furious, that people only expected him to do that. No one ever asked him about football, even though everyone knew he was good and even the best in the team and could grow so much more in that field if it weren’t for people like them who only cared about status and money. That’s not who Jake wants to become, selfish and greedy.

The day came to an end, the sky had a pink and orange hue to it, creating a beautiful painting, pleasing and conforming to gaze at. You started organizing all the tools you had used, placing them in their respective place in the toolbox Heeseung had lent you. Distant chattering could be heard from the other boys playing around as they had also finished their work for the day. You were walking towards the bathroom to wash your hands when you heard someone call your name. 

“Hey, y/n!” You looked back to see Sunghoon, who called you, and the rest of the guys looking at you. “Come out for dinner with us, we’re going to the barbeque place downtown.” “Um, I don’t know guys, it’s gonna get late and we have work again tomorrow…” You said, scratching the back of your neck, suddenly feeling shy, not being used to going out with people you barely knew. “Oh come on, to celebrate your first day being one of us! It’s on Heeseung tonight!” Ni-ki said patting the older man on the back, who was about to complain but quickly agreed with the younger one as he felt him pinching him. “Yeah, y/n, don’t even worry about coming late tomorrow.” Your eyes flickered between all of them until you decided to agree with them, realizing that maybe you need to loosen up a little and stop being such a pussy. You sighed, nodding your head at them “Ok, fine! But I’m not paying!” You said raising your hands. The boys cheered dramatically, making you roll your eyes but laugh nonetheless. “Anyways, I’m going home to get ready, just text me later with the address.” Everyone bid their goodbyes and you made your way back to your car, ready to go home.

As you entered your house, your mom came to greet you, kissing your cheek in the process. “Hey, dear. How was your first day at work?” she asked you, grabbing your jacket and putting it into the coat hanger at your entrance. “Oh, it actually went really well. Wasn’t expecting to work as much as I did, but I’m proud that I could do that much.” “Ah, you must be so tired, honey! Was the lunch I made enough? Oh, maybe I should’ve-” “Mom,” you said laughing “It was more than enough, don’t worry about it, ok?” you reassured her, rubbing her arms that rested on her side as she looked tense. “Anyways, they all invited me to dinner so I’m gonna shower and get ready.” You kissed her cheek and ran upstairs towards your room.

Dinner yesterday went smoothly. All your worries about not being able to get along with them were quickly thrown away when you found yourself talking with them like you’ve known them for ages. The night was filled with laughter, maybe because of the funny stories being shared or maybe it was the alcohol that everyone- except Ni-ki- had consumed. You were glad you were able to let yourself loose and enjoy the night to the max, you couldn’t remember the last time you had that much fun since you were always so busy with college and finals were kicking your ass. The last thing you remember doing that night was texting Sohee that you had gotten home safely and you had enjoyed the night.

Now you were waking up with the buzz of your alarm, opening your eyes only to close them right away when the bright sun rays hit your face. You sat up on the bed, feeling your head pound making you hiss at the strong feeling. You got up and walked to the bathroom scolding yourself to never drink on a work night again.

Driving to work today was painful, no matter how strong the medicine you took was or how much orange juice you drank, the pounding headache you got was not going away and the dark circles under your eyes also weren’t a very pleasant sight to see so you opted to wear a pair of sunglasses. You looked at the time and it marked 9:40 am, definitely not on time but no one could really blame you for being extra slow today and your mom also made sure to take a few more minutes from your time to scold you about being late out and drinking when you had work the next day.

Arriving at the shop, you saw everyone already there making you sigh, hating yourself for being the last one arriving at work. Walking inside you saw that no one was working, instead, they were all sitting at a table near the entrance, some of them laying their head down on the table and others drinking energy drinks to be able to go on with their day. “I don’t even know if it’s safe to say good morning.” you said sitting down next to them, plopping down on the chair, hissing at the quick movement that made the pounding sensation in your head stronger. No one was able to say anything so you were all sitting down in silence, looking at the cars driving by the shop. Any passer-by would think you had nothing to do when in fact there was way too much to do than any of you could. 

“Remind me to never do this again, please.” Jungwon said referring to going out until late, making everyone hum in agreement. Suddenly, Heeseung gets up, clapping his hands and then rubbing them together “Let’s get to work. These cars aren’t gonna fix themselves.” Everyone groaned at the older man’s words, some complaining, saying it would be fair to take a day one, only receiving Heeseung’s glare in return. “Anyways, y/n, I know you just got here, but I really need you to do me a favour,” Heeseung said, turning to you. You stared at him through your glasses in response “Pretty please?” He said lacing his hands together, making you sigh and roll your eyes. “Oh my god, fine! What is it then?” You said putting your hand on your hip with a sigh. “I need you to go downtown to pick up a parcel at the post. It has some pieces that I need for the car I'm fixing.” You said nothing in return aside from an I’ll be back soon as you entered the car.

The drive back to the shop was awful, you were stuck in traffic for almost an hour and about to burst in anger. “If it wasn’t for Heeseung and his stupid parcel…” you said, talking to yourself. When you arrived back at the shop you were more than ready to throw hands at Heeseung, if the parcel weren’t so heavy you would be running in his direction. “I swear to God, Heeseung, if you ever, but ever make me go through all this traffic again, man, I swear on my life I won’t-” You stopped in your tracks when you saw what was in front of you. “Oh my good God, what in the good earth, I- oh my goodness.” you dropped the parcel on the floor as you approached Sunghoon who was near the entrance. “Hoon, please tell me I’m not seeing things and my eyes aren’t deceiving me.” You exclaimed, your eyes never moving away from the car in front of you. Sunghoon swore he never saw your eyes shining so brightly “Hoon, is this a freaking Ford Mustang from ‘69?” you said in a high-pitched voice as your hands made their way to your face, cupping your cheeks. It wasn’t until you heard a deep chuckle that you noticed a figure next to Sunghoon. You looked in the person’s direction and you were met with a beautiful, almost ethereal, face that was already looking at you, sporting a smirk, making you feel nervous under his strong gaze. Your eyes looked him up and down, noticing he was dressed in designer head to toe. His face was familiar to you but you couldn’t grasp any memory with his face on it.

“You like it?” he asked, nodding his head towards the car before you. You nodded at him with a hum, words suddenly stuck in your throat and you didn’t even dare to try and speak, fearing your voice would fail you. He chuckled at you, finding amusement in your shy behaviour. “You wanna touch it?” he asked raising his brow as his smirk turned into a beautiful grin. You felt your cheeks grow hotter than before and Sunghoon decided to intervene before Jake could keep going, sensing his suggestive undertone. “Ok, that’s enough for you two, geez!” he said rolling his eyes, before speaking again “Anyways, you can leave the car here and Heeseung or anyone will take care of it, you already know you’re in good hands here so no need to worry.” “Alright then, just call me when it’s done, yeah?” Jake said as he and Sunghoon dapped each other up before he left, not forgetting to wink and wave at you, to which you gave a small wave back. “Kids these days.” Sunghoon said sighing and shaking his head at you, making you frown at him. “Shut up!” you said slapping his arm as you walked past him to pick up the parcel you left on the floor.

You walked back inside the shop, finding Heeseung crouched on the floor as he cleaned some rims he just fixed. “Hey Hee, got your parcel here. Do you want me to put it somewhere or should I just leave it here?” you said as you approached his figure “Oh, you can just leave it in that chair, I’m gonna need that in a while.” he said getting up as he wiped his forehead with his arm. “By the way, Jake’s car, the one in the entrance, needs to get the left view mirror changed, he broke it while parking somewhere. So, since I'm working on this car and it’s gonna take me a while, you’re going to be the one fixing it.” Oh! That was definitely interesting and caught your attention. “Oh, sure, no problem. It shouldn’t take too long.” This was only great. Not only were you fixing one of your dream and favourite cars but you were fixing a hot guy's car. 

Later that day you arrived home with a happy sigh. Even though you were feeling extra tired from the hangover and work altogether, you could only think about your new acquaintance, a hot one. It has been a long time since you’ve felt like this for someone or especially for a boy. After your most recent ex-boyfriend, you tried to focus more on yourself and your friends since he hadn’t allowed you to do so. Those were times that were long gone and you wanted to erase them from your memory as you moved on.

You had dinner with your parents and went upstairs to get ready to go to bed earlier than usual to recover those lost hours of sleep. You showered and did your usual night routine, being extra careful and allowing yourself to relax. As you sat in bed, you grabbed your phone, seeing multiple notifications, since you don’t use your phone during work, from texts from your friends and social media ones, but there was one that caught your attention. For a moment you thought you were having delusional visions, but as you clicked on it it took you directly to Jake’s Instagram profile and the top showed the Accept and Decline button. He had found his way to your profile and it had you giggling silently, making you feel like you were in high school all over again. It had been about 3 hours since he sent the request so it was safe to accept without looking like a creep. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you proceeded to answer your texts and update Sohee on the tea, so you called her.

“Sohee, I kid you not, he is so attractive, I can’t!” you heard her sigh for the nth time on the phone, feeling her eye roll through the screen. “Y/n, I’ve seen him plenty of times, and trust me, I know he is, but be careful, I heard some things about him, though.” “Don’t worry about that, it’s just a silly crush. I’ll be over it sooner or later.” Sohee sighed again and you could hear her moving around in her bed sheets. “Yeah, whatever. We’ll talk later. Heeseung is calling me.” After talking with Sohee you were left alone with your thoughts as you scrolled on your phone but you weren’t really paying any attention to any of the posts, as you were thinking about Sohee’s warning. You decided to put your phone down and go to sleep to calm the thoughts running through your mind. As you were feeling yourself fall into a slumber, you heard your phone buzz but you chose to ignore it. You turn to the other side, getting comfortable to fall asleep again but again, your phone buzzes making you sit up and grab it aggressively. You turned it on, the bright light making you squint your eyes as you turned the brightness down. You unlocked it, checking who was texting at this hour. You felt your heart pound, getting nervous, as you saw Jake had dmed you. You click on his text, not caring if it had only been seconds from his last text. 

simjaeyun_: hey :)                                                   11:37pm             

simjaeyun_: ignoring me now mnh?                        11:46 pm    

youruser: stalking me now huh?                              11:47 pm

youruser: didn’t take for the stalker type tbh          11:47 pm

Your heart started beating quicker when you saw how fast he started typing an answer.

simjaeyun_: then what type do you take me to be? 11:48 pm 

youruser: well                                                           11:48 pm

youruser: definitely the one who makes other people stalk you not the other way around. 11:48 pm 

simjaeyun_: maybe you just caught my attention like that ;) 11:48 pm

youruser: oh? did i now?                                           11:49 pm

simjaeyun_: maybe, find it out yourself :)                  11:49 pm

You looked at the texts, feeling a soft blush creeping on your cheeks as you hugged your knees to your chest. You decided to leave him on read, not really having an answer to his text but Jake himself wasn’t expecting to get one back. You looked at the ceiling, having lost all your sleep by now. You closed your eyes and sighed as you slid down your bed until you were laying down. You turned to the side, watching the moon from your window, which you usually left open since it helped you wake up. You closed your eyes, trying to sleep, as the image of the texts kept appearing in your head, keeping you awake for a while.

The next day you woke up, remembering last night's events, making you clutch your sheets closer to your chest. You sat up on the edge of the bed, as you sighed and rubbed your face with your hands, making your way to the bathroom to do your routine and maybe it would help you keep your thoughts away from him.  You looked in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, glad to see your dark circles were already gone. You did your usual skincare routine and headed down to the kitchen to have breakfast, seeing your mom had made you some pancakes and a black coffee, which were placed neatly on the table where she was already eating.

“Good morning mom!” you greeted her with a smile as you sat in front of her. “Good morning, dear! Did you sleep well?” “Oh yeah, I did! I went to sleep earlier to recover from the hangover…” She sighed at your words as she gave you a warning look, reminding you of her scolding. “Is there a special occasion for you to make me breakfast?” You asked as you took a bite of pancakes. “Not really, can’t I be sweet for my daughter once in a while?” She answered and you squinted at her, knowing there was a reason behind it, she wasn’t one to do these things just because. “You came home smilier than usual. Anything special happened at work?” She asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could. You stopped your movement for less than a second but enough time for her to notice. “Um, not really, was just happy.” You said after taking a sip from your coffee and putting the mug down. “Are you sure it was just that?” She propped her elbows on the table with her hands intertwined, looking as if she was questioning you for a crime you did. “Yes, mom. I’m pretty sure.” She hummed, taking a sip from her tea. “Is that why you were squealing with Sohee on the phone last night?” You gasped at her words. “Mom! Were you eavesdropping on me?” You asked her shocked that she had heard you talking with Sohee. “Oh no, dear. You know I’m not one to do that. I just happened to be walking past your room and heard you all excited about a certain- oh what was the name?” She stopped, trying to remember “Oh! Jake! Yes, Jake. Now, you wanna tell me about that?” You blushed at her words as if you were caught doing something bad or she heard a secret of yours. “Mom! No!” You said getting up from your chair, leaving a small bit of pancake on your plate. “I’m leaving. I need to go to work. Bye, love you!” You started walking faster, rushing to the door after picking up your house and car keys.

You entered the car, thinking about the conversation with your mom, reminding yourself to be more careful when talking with Sohee on the phone. You reached the shop just on time, parking your car in your usual place, which by now, you claimed as yours. You walked inside, seeing Heeseung and Ni-ki talking about something about a car.

“Good morning guys!” you greeted as you put your lunch bag down. They both looked back at you, seeming relieved you were finally there. “Oh thank God you’re here.” Ni-ki sighed. “Yeah, what’s up?” You asked, intrigued as to what they needed you for. “So, we were discussing car designs for me to do in the car Heeseung is taking care of, but the problem is that we can’t agree on one design.” He started explaining as Heeseunf put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes at the younger male. “So tell me. in between these which one is better?” He finished, showing pictures of different designs. You hummed in thought as you looked carefully at the pictures and the car behind them. “I think for this car these two thick stripes would fit the best, but that’s my opinion!” “See! I told you! You won’t listen to me. Y/n, he won’t agree with me, please help me.” Ni-ki said as he put his hands together in a plea. “Sorry, Hee. Gotta agree with him in this one.” Heeseung looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. “Don’t fire me?” You said shrugging your shoulders at him. The older man rolled his eyes, sighing as he finally gave in. “Fine, but only because it's two against one.” “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say hyung.” Ni-ki said leaving the area, you looked at him shrugging at him, “Kids these days.” he said under his breath in a mumble. 

You grabbed your stuff from where you had previously put it and took it into the staff room. Coming back to the area, you grabbed some gloves and put them on, ready to start working on Jake’s car. Heeseung had already put it in a space for you to fix it and besides it was a box with the side view mirror to replace to broken one. You’ve never changed a mirror before, but you remember one time when your dad did when your mom hit it on the wall while she was parking the car in the garage. It wasn’t much of a hassle, it was easy and simple. You opened the car’s door and you were met with the beautiful interior, which Jake had most likely renovated into a more modern one, but still had a vintage touch to it. The car smelled like a man’s perfume, probably his own, mixed with a leathery scent that came from the beautiful black leather seats with red details. Snapping out of your daze with the car’s interior you went back to work. You started by carefully taking out the mirror’s trim cover and removing the screws that were hidden.

As you were taking out the screws and putting them in a spare box, you felt a presence coming up behind you. Looking up, you found Sunghoon looking at you as he leaned on the car door. “Hey there!” you said as you kept doing your work. “Enjoying yourself, huh?” He said with a smug smirk adorning his face, making you roll your eyes. “Go away Sunghoon.” You said but still, you had a smile on your face. “It’s nothing special.” you finished. “You can’t be saying that when you acted how you did yesterday when you saw the car, practically fangirling over it. I mean, not to mention how you were fangirling over Ja-” “Shut up!” you said looking at him. “I wasn’t, you were seeing things.” Sunghoon laughed at your behaviour. “C’mon, no need to act shy now.” He started “You know, he texted me yesterday.” “Ok? And why should i care?” You said raising a brow at him. “He was asking me, or better, begging me to give him your Instagram.” You looked away from him as you felt your cheeks heat up. “I don’t know why he would do that!” You said, pretending to be interested in those screws. “Eh, you’ll eventually find out, I guess.” He said making you look back at him. “What is that supposed to mean.” You asked suddenly interested in what he had to say. He started walking away, his back turned to you “Nothing you should worry your pretty head about.” He answered, making you tilt your head, confused at his words. You sighed as you went back to working on that mirror.

It wasn’t too long after your conversation with Sunghoon that little by little everyone started gathering in front of the staff-only door to eat lunch. You got up and joined Jungwon and Sunoo, who was engrossed in a conversation about the latest tea about someone on campus. You were so focused on observing and listening to them talk that you didn’t notice an extra someone entering the shop until Jay mentioned it.

“Jake? What are you doing here man?” That made your ears perk up, but you pretended to still be listening to the gossip you were previously listening to. “Your mirror still isn’t fixed, so no luck for you today.” Heeseung said also greeting him with the handshake their group shared. You looked at them at the mention of the mirror, so it wouldn’t look as suspicious. “Yeah, I figured. Just wanted to join you guys for lunch.” He said raising his take-out bag. You heard someone gasp, looking you saw Ni-ki looking with heart eyes at the take-out bag. “Is that for us?” He said with his boxy smile. Everyone looked at Jake with hopeful eyes. “What? No, it’s mine! And no way in hell I’m sharing this with you guys.” Jake said in a warning tone. Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes at him “You’re literally no fun.” Sunoo said giving him a judging look. Jake simply shrugged as he looked around the room until his eyes met yours, making him bite back a smirk. Sunghoon, who was watching carefully and aware of the situation, nudged you slightly when Jake looked away, making you mouth a what? at him which he only answered with a smirk.

You all moved inside the staff room, sitting around the round table. Jake was sitting across from you and you were sitting in between Sunghoon and Ni-ki. Every time you looked up you would be met with Jake’s eyes staring into you shamelessly, making you bounce your feet nervously. Your eyes drifted towards Sunghoon and you were able to see the smirk he was hiding with food while looking between you and Jake until he finally noticed you looking at him, making him raise his eyebrows at you to which you answered with a shrug as you looked back to your food. You wondered if Jake was going to talk to you anytime today. Since he arrived today he hadn’t even spoken a word to you, not even a simple Hi, making you wonder if he was only the all-talk type through social media or if he just didn’t have the guts to talk to you personally, but still, he had no problem flirting and teasing you when you guys first met.

Lunch was over and you got back to work. Jake hadn’t gone away yet, lingering around the shop, mainly around Heeseung as they talked about things you couldn’t listen to. The sudden realization that you were working on his car hit and you wondered if he was gonna approach you in a way. Snapping out of your thoughts, you went back to finish fixing the mirror, already more than halfway done. You were putting everything back in place, with the mirror already replaced, when you saw Jake walking towards you from your peripheral vision. You felt your breath hitch as your shoulders tensed the closer he got.

“I see you finally got to touch it, huh?” He said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Oh! Yeah, I did.” You answered with an awkward laugh, feeling your palms getting sweaty. “Like what you felt, sweetheart?” Your eyes widen at that, suddenly feeling at a loss for words. You were more than sure if any other man would’ve said that to you, you would’ve cringed right away, but not when said man looked like Jake did. “I- well-” Jake started laughing, making you feel somewhat embarrassed. “I’m just playing around. You’re not that shy through texting.” He said reminding you of how confident you may have sounded through texts. “Well, I guess it’s not the same as talking face-to-face, right?” You stated, looking up at him in the eyes. His mouth opened to say something but closed right away. “Yeah, you’re right.” He took a breath in as he straightened his posture.  “Anyways, is the mirror any close to being done?” He wondered. “Oh yeah, actually I just need to test it and it’s all ready for you to take it home!” You said while smiling at him, proud that you were able to do something new quickly yet carefully. “Oh really? You were pretty quick. Can’t say I’m not impressed, though, in a positive way, of course.” You giggled at him. “Thanks, Jake. I appreciate that.” He smiled warmly at you, nodding your way as he walked away from you, leaving you alone to finish your work.

It was almost time to go home when Jake and Heeseung approached you next to Jake’s car, where you were slightly bent over, as you were touching up some scratches near the mirror area with touch-up black paint. You finished the work, smiling proudly at yourself, as you turned around to face the two boys who were watching you silently as you worked. You sighed happily at them, adjusting the oversized overalls that you wore for work. “I’m officially done!” You exclaimed as you stretched an arm towards the car. Heeseung patted Jake in the back signaling him to get him and his car home. “You can pay me later.” Heeseung said walking away, knowing if he stayed Jake would insist on paying. Jake sighed as he looked at you. “Thank you for doing this, by the way.“ He said with a smile, making you shrug. “You’re welcome, Jake. After all, it’s my job.” You answered, looking down as you kicked non-existent rocks. Jake gave you a wide grin, watching your face, appreciating the way your lashes touched your cheeks when you blinked and how you bit your lip when you were nervous. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he walked towards his car. “Tomorrow?” You tilted your head to the side but you got no response as he got in his car. The engine purred as he drove out of the garage, leaving you standing dumbfounded. “Will I ever figure him out?”

Jake got home with only one thing, or rather someone, going through his mind. As cliché as it felt for him, he couldn’t understand what was in you that made him want to stay glued to you forever. He wanted to get to know you, know what you liked and disliked, and what were your hobbies. Did you have a pet? You didn’t really look like you had one. As soon as he entered his penthouse, he made his way to his room, falling into his bed with a thud, sighing as he felt his head make contact with his fluffy pillows. He still could feel his heart thumping in his chest, quicker than it ever beat. It felt weird, a good weird. He liked the feeling. One he only ever felt with his high school crush who had rejected him in his junior year. Jake groaned out loud as his arm fell to his face, covering his eyes. “What have you done to me?”

The past week was full of work. Everyone barely interacted, focused on getting everyone’s car fixed since it’s vacation season and everyone needed their car as soon as possible. Still, one thing everyone found weird was how Jake came to visit almost every day, something that never really happened through all these years everyone had worked there. Sunghoon always made sure to point out to you that Jake was always lingering close to you, making you give him annoyed remarks. Deep down you were glad he stood close to you as you got time to know him better and to your surprise he was more interesting than you ever thought a jock would be, no offence. You two would laugh with each other for hours until Heeseung needed to scold you to go back to work, hiding his smile as he watched you two playfully fight each other. His presence made work hours go by quicker and you started enjoying his presence a little bit too much, noticing the way your heart would beat a tad bit faster when you heard him laugh at something you said.

When you were done with work Jake would take you out and grab convenience store food for you two to eat in the park. It was in those moments that you both got vulnerable with each other, sharing all of your life stories, good and bad ones. Every night you call Sohee and rant about how scared you are of catching feelings for him, even though you knew you were already in deep, and she always reassured you that you shouldn’t feel like that as it’s only natural and what has to happen, will happen. Whatever you were feeling with Jake, is something you never felt with anyone before, as cliché as it can be, but your past dating history left a huge mark on you and you had a tendency to shut people out when they got too close, until now. The boys noticed a subtle shift in the way you and Jake interacted, but still, they only observed from afar, never intruding on whatever was happening between you two. It felt kind of weird for them to see Jake behaving that way around someone who wasn’t part of his friend group or more specifically with a girl, but deep down they felt happy seeing their friend finally letting himself loosen up.

The day at the shop was going smoothly, it was a bad day of work for Heeseung. There were no clients coming up and everyone except him was sitting around playing cards or just talking to each other as he finished fixing one car. You were sat at a table with Sunoo and Sunghoon, your hands covering your ears as they kept asking questions you didn’t wanna hear and less likely answer. “Come on, y/n!” Sunoo said pulling your hands out of your ears, making you roll your eyes. “I don’t like him, ok?” You sighed, “I literally met him, like, not even two weeks ago. I don’t even know him like that.” “y/n, you know damn well it’s not like that.” Sunghoon said leaning back in his chair. “Just admit you like him!” “Like who?” The three of you looked back to find Jake walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. “No one, I don’t like anyone.” You said closing your eyes as you propped your head in your hand. Jake looked at Sunghoon, as the latter smirked at him, making you glare not-so discreetly at him. Jake sat in a free chair next to you and the two other men thought it was a good idea to stand up and walk away, leaving you two alone.

“Bad work day?” He started. “Yeah, something like that.” You sighed, playing with a paper cup in front of you. “It’s just the end of the month and most people are on vacation by now so it was expected.” Jake hummed, an idea coming up to him. “So you have nothing to do, right?” You looked at him wondering why he was asking that. “Uh, yeah, I don’t.” You answered nodding at him. He got up, extending a hand to you. “Come.” He said as he smiled and nodded his head towards his way. You hesitated in grabbing his hand and getting up as he dragged you to his car. “But, the other we need to tell-” “Don’t worry ‘bout that. We’ll be quick.” Jake said as he opened his car door for you. You looked at the car and then at him, making him nod at you, urging you to get in. Jake sat in the driver's seat with a happy sigh. He looked at him, watching as you admired his car, gently touching the leather seats, feeling the wealth in your touch. You looked around the car in awe, making him giggle at your antics. You turned to look at him with a blush and a small smile, feeling shy he caught you as you admired his expensive car. He turned the keys, making the engine purr as you felt the seats vibrate with the loud sound. “Wow!” You said with a gasp “It feels so different when you’re actually inside the car.” You looked at him as he drove out of the shop’s driveway. “Yeah, I felt that too when I first drove it.” He said with a chuckle. “Where are you taking me?” You asked curiously. “You’ll see, princess. Enjoy the ride for now.” He answered as he chose a song to play for the ride. 

You looked out of your window, seeing the sun almost setting, making the sky turn into an orange explosion. The ride was silent, a comfortable silence, and you found yourselves in an empty road, no words needed to be spoken as you admired the view ahead of you. You rolled your window down, laying your head on the edge of the door. Jake looked at you, admiring your hair that flew freely with the wind and how your eyes were shining in awe and you wore a smile. He looked back to the front and he bit a smile back, failing to do so as the corners of his lips curled upwards. Jake was now driving towards a kind of abyss. He stopped the car, turning off the engine. “Is this it?” You asked making him nod at you with a smile. You both walked out of the car and sat in its hood. You gasped at the view in front of you. You could see the whole city from above. All the tall skyscrapers looked tiny and the street lights were only small dots on a canvas. The sky above showed a pink and orange painting, and the sun had almost fully set.

“Jake” he looked at you, admiring your side profile “This is beautiful.” You finished, looking at him with a big grin, making him mirror your actions. You looked back ahead as you scooted closer to him in the hood of the car, feeling your shoulder touch his. Jake smiled to himself, not daring to look your way to avoid doing something he would regret. “Thank you.” You said looking at him, seeing how his eyes slightly widened. He looked down at his feet, feeling his ears get hotter “It’s nothing really.” “How did you even find this place?” You wondered. “This is gorgeous!” Jake finally looked at you, examining your face, sensing you were asking a genuine question and not just a rhetorical one. “Well,” He started with a sigh. “I usually come here to kind of unwind a little.” He said kicking some rocks on the floor. “It just tunes me out the rest of the world. I feel the best when I’m here.”

He felt the urge to keep talking as he felt you still looking at the side of his head. “Normally when I have a big argument with my dad I just come here and let everything out. No one comes here since it’s far from the city so now it’s my comfort place and I’ve never brought anyone here except for you.” He stopped talking, looking at you, seeing you with empathetic eyes. “Thank you for sharing that with me Jake.” You rubbed his back in a comforting way “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me all that, I know it’s not easy to deal with those kinds of problems, even if I never went through them myself. I hope you know I’m a shoulder you can lean on when you need one. You shouldn’t keep those thoughts to yourself.” Jake felt his eyes getting teary as he heard you talk. “I really appreciate that, y/n. I just feel like you give me so much of you and I never really shared something really intimate, so I thought this would feel just right.” He said holding his tears. You smiled at him, pulling his arm, grabbing it as you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking back to the view as a comfortable silence fell over you two. Jake’s head leaned in yours and he felt a soft bubble form in his chest, making him close his eyes and take a deep breath in of the fresh air that danced around both of your hairs.

The sun fully set after a while. Stars started appearing in the dark sky. “Look,” You said pointing to the sky “The first star of the night. Make a wish!” You finished as you looked at Jake. “A wish?” You nodded “Alright if you say so.” Both of you closed your eyes and put your hands together as you made your wishes. Jake opened his eyes to look at you, seeing you with your eyes closed and a giddy smile on your lips. You opened your eyes, looking at Jake only to find him already looking down at you, the summer breeze made his hair move beautifully. “What did you wish for?” he asked “Can’t tell you, it won’t come true if I do.” Jake chuckled at your answer, making you do the same. You both stared into each other eyes, not daring to look away as if you were in some trance with each other's eyes, giving you time to appreciate each other’s features. You couldn’t understand how people could view Jake as a bad being. Since the moment you both started getting closer, he was nothing but a sweetheart to you and besides that, you saw how he treated the other boys as well, always being caring with them, giving them food when one of them didn’t have enough or going as far as secretly ordering take out for Ni-ki when he had forgotten to pack his own lunch. They didn’t know him in reality. If they had seen him with your eyes they would know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt anyone or anything purposely. They couldn’t see the sparkle in his eyes when he saw dogs playing in the park or the way his tongue would slightly poke his pouty lips when he focused on something. If only they could see him the way you do.

Your phone suddenly buzzed in your pocket, making you break the intense eye contact that seemed to last an eternity. You looked at the contact ID seeing it was your mom calling you, making you silently curse under your breath. “Hey, mom.” You turned to Jake, mouthing him a Sorry which he dismissed with a shake of his head. “Uh…” Your eyes started moving around nervously “I, uh, I’m with Jake, Mom.” You hissed, scratching the back of your neck. Your mom started going off excitedly about how she was right about him, making you roll your eyes, hoping the said man couldn’t hear what she was saying. “Um, Mom, I don’t- okay wait.” You turned to Jake with a sigh “You wanna come over for dinner?” You asked him, making him still for a moment. “Uh, sure, I mean, why not.” He answered shrugging, something you weren’t really expecting, but deep down you were kind of glad he had accepted. “Okay, he’s coming. Yeah, see you, bye Mom.” You hung up, standing up and looking at Jake. He only looked at you, not knowing what to say. “C’mon.” You pulled him off the hood “We got dinner waiting for us.” 

You were driving back to the city, immersed in a conversation about various topics. “Also, I’m gonna warn you about my mom, she can be a little too much sometimes, so sorry in advance.” Jake laughed at your words. “Don’t say that. I’m pretty sure she means well.” He said looking at you. “If that makes you feel better about meeting her, then sure Jake, whatever you say.” Shortly after, Jake was pulling into your house’s driveway, making you feel nervous, the fact that he was meeting your parents finally sinking in. You don’t know why you felt like this, you two weren’t even dating. You walked to your front door and searched for the keys that were somewhere lost in your bag. Suddenly the door burst open, making you squeal in surprise as you almost tripped and if it weren’t for Jake you would’ve fallen on your butt. “Oh, what gentleman he is!” The door was fully open, revealing your mom who was now cooing at Jake. “Mom, don't.” you said in a warning tone, making her wave her hand at you dismissingly. “Oh, you must be Jake.” She said grabbing him by the arms “Come in you two.” She invited, making space for you to enter the house. “How was day, dear?” Your mom asked, making you break the mad face you were making at her with a small smile. “It was okay. We didn’t have any clients today which is not good for the shop.” “Oh, that must be really frustrating for you guys.” She said furrowing her brows in a worried way. “Anyways, let’s get to the kitchen. The food’s getting cold.” She smiled warmly at you two as she dragged you both to the kitchen. “Is dad not home?” You said with a small pout. “Oh no, he’s out for that company dinner he had. You know it.” You nodded at her letting out an Oh as you remember your father talking about it.

Jake tried to hide it, but as small as this interaction was, it was still a very domestic one. Those were the interactions he longed for but they never came to him. He felt a pang in his chest but your mom’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Give me your plate, dear. I’ll serve you.” She said smiling warmly at him, making him mirror her expression. Your mom seemed so sweet and he genuinely wanted to enjoy this small moment. 

The three of you talked comfortably throughout the night. Jake was able to get those negative thoughts out of his head for a while as he interacted with you both. He loved watching you talk with your mom, seeing the way your eyes light up when she says something that makes you laugh. Just watching that made him smile, which didn’t go unnoticed by your mom. Jake saw his phone light up on the table with a text from his dad asking him where he was and another from a contact he promised himself to never answer again. This made his whole good mood disappear and he just felt like going home. He felt guilty to do this but felt the need to be alone and forget about those texts.

“Everything alright?” you asked with a worried expression, just then he noticed he had his brows pressed tightly together. “Oh um, yeah, just my dad texting me.” He said smiling at you, guilt eating him up, but deep down he wasn’t lying, just not telling the whale truth, which made him feel shitty. “It’s getting late so maybe I should go. Thank you for the meal, it was really good!” He got up, grabbing his jacket from the chair. You got up as well and followed him to your front door as your mom stayed in the kitchen cleaning up. “Hey,” You said grabbing his attention “Are you sure you’re alright? You looked pretty tense back there.” You asked in a worried tone. He sighed, nodding at you. “Yes, princess. Don’t worry about it. I’ll text you when I get home, yeah?” You nodded at him and you bid your goodbyes. Before he could leave, you grabbed his wrist. “Thank you for today, really.” You smiled widely at him, making him chuckle at you “You’re welcome, princess. Good night.” You let his hand go as you waved at him before closing the door. You turned around to see your mom leaning on the kitchen door. You held your hand up “Don’t even start, ok?” you said not wanting to have that conversation. “Dind’t day a word, honey.” She said smiling at you. “Whatever. Goodnight, Mom.” “Goodnight, dear.”

You let yourself fall into the comfort of your bed with a sigh. You grabbed your phone, seeing a notification from Jake, making you quickly tap on it. 

jake <3: thank you for tonight, princess :)

jake <3: sorry for leaving so suddenly. my dad texted me and you know how it is…

you: jake you don’t need to thank me 

you: we were both glad to have you eat with us and dont worry about that i totally understand

you: im gonna head to sleep now. goodnight jake :) 

jake <3: goodnight princess:) 

The next day at work you felt kind of uneasy. The way Jake left your house yesterday left you with an unsettling feeling. You didn’t know what his dad had texted him and you surely weren’t gonna ask him, you were in no place to do that. It was already 5:30 pm and Jake still hadn’t stopped by the shop, something unusual since he always comes by lunchtime. You didn’t want to think too much of it and tried to convince yourself that he was just busy. As you were cleaning up a car you just finished fixing, you heard footsteps coming towards you, making you look to see Heeseung and Sunghoon. “Lover boy didn’t come today, huh?” Sunghoon said making you roll your eyes before turning to look at them, now standing up from your crouching position. “He’s not my lover and you know that damn well.” you said propping your hand on your hip. “Yet!” Heeseung says with a stupid grin on his face.

“Anyways, we’re going to this party tonight and we wanted to invite you so you better be there.” the older male said. “Uh, I don’t know, guys. I’m not really-” “Not in the mood, yeah we know. Same story and it’s not working today. You are going today, no excuses.” Sunghoon paused for a while “You know, Jake’s gonna be there.” he said with a smirk. You lightly tapped your foot on the floor, knowing you didn’t really have a choice other than going and if you ended up going you would see Jake. Not that you missed him, maybe just a little bit though.  “Fine, I guess I can go.” you sighed, crossing your arms “Where and when?” Heeseung gave you the details about the party, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with Jake there. Even if you were still kind of sour about him not coming, you were sure he had a good reason not to, right?

You walked up to your mirror, checking yourself out one last time before leaving. You lightly rubbed your finger under your lips, cleaning a lipstick smudge. You looked at your outfit, a simple lace, black corset-like top paired with some black leather pants and black heels. The top felt a little too revealing for you, but you decided to come out of your comfort zone for once and try new things. You felt pretty. Your hair was just right, your makeup looked flawless and your outfit was tight just in the right places, flattering your silhouette. Tonight was the night and you were going to enjoy it to the fullest. Sohee had previously texted you, informing you she would also be there with Heeseung, which made you less stressed about this party. You drove to the address Heeseung had texted you, the clock showed 11:45, a reminder that you were 15 minutes late. “Typical y/n, am I right?” you mumbled to yourself when you stopped at a red light. Taking one last turn, you saw a sign with the name of the bar Hee had told you. You parked your car and walked towards the entrance, feeling the biting wind hit your skin, making you regret not taking a small coat with you. You entered the bar and it was already almost full since it was almost midnight. You passed and pushed through the crowd of people Excuses me’s and Sorry’s leaving your lips as you did so. Finally, you were able to spot a tall ash blond who could only be Heeseung and walked towards him.

“Hey and before you scold me, yes I know I’m late.” you said as you and Sohee hugged before taking a seat next to Jay. “Wouldn’t expect any different from you.” Sunghoon said making you let out Shup up to him. You looked around and saw everyone there except for one person. “Where’s Jake?” you asked still looking around, failing to notice the exchange of looks between the four of them. “He’s- Well, he is with some guys from the soccer team, yeah.” Sungoon said, a nervous smile dancing on his lips, making you tilt your head at him “Weird.” you thought out loud. “But don’t worry!” Sunoo said, making you look at him “He’ll probably be here… soon.” “Okay?” you answered, looking at Sohee who was just as confused as you were. There was an unfamiliar tension in the booth and before you could think further about it Heeseung spoke up “No more talking. Let’s get the night started and get drinks!” Everyone got up, greedy to finally get some alcohol in their systems, maybe that’s what you needed. You reached the counter and Heeseung ordered tequila shots for everyone. The shots were gone as quickly as they came and everyone was thirsting for more so Sunghoon ordered six more of the same. 

You and Sohee made your way towards the dance floor full of sweating bodies. You were buzzing inside with the little alcohol in your system and the lights were making you dazed in the best way possible. It had been a long time since you and Sohee hung out like this and you were enjoying this just as much as she was. You had your arms thrown over her shoulders as she hugged your waist and you both swayed to whatever music was playing. The boys were looking at you with pure amusement on their faces, never having seen you like this but they were glad you were enjoying this night so far. Your body felt hot from the heat radiating from everyone around you. You saw couples kissing and grinding against each other and it made your mind wander to Jake and wonder if you and he were ever gonna dance like that like it was just the two of you in the room with no one to interrupt you both. You and your best friend went back to the counter to order drinks for yourselves while the boys went back to the booth.

“Can I get two Pink Whitneys with Sprite, please?” the bartender nodded at you before leaving to prepare the drinks. “Was wondering if you could still party, y/n” Sohee told you laughing. “Oh, shut up. It hasn’t been that long.” You both turned back to the counter when you heard the bartender speak. “For the pretty ladies.” He said putting the drinks in front of you, both of you mumbling Thanks in return. You closed your eyes as you savoured the drink you hadn’t tasted in a long time. “God, I forgot how much I love this.” You said taking a big sip of the pink drink. “Brings back old memories doesn’t it?” Sohee said leaning back as if she was having a flashback. Even though you were a stay-at-home person, back in the first years of college you went partying almost every night since Sohee was a social butterfly and always made sure to bring you along to whatever party she was invited to. Every time Heeseung would host a party, he made sure to have a hidden bottle of Pink Whitney in a small fridge that only he and the boys knew of for you and Sohee. You laughed at her as you tilted the cup towards her for a toast. “For old time’s sake.” She clinked her glass with yours “For old time’s sake!” she said before finishing her drink in one big gulp as she did the same. 

You two got up, making your way to the booth the guys were at. Your vision was starting to blur from all the drinks you had. Only had your low alcohol tolerance to blame. You were trying to walk through the crowd when you spotted a familiar brunette in the middle of it. “Look! Jake’s there, let’s say hi!” you said pushing Sohee towards his way. The grin you had on your face started to slowly fade as your steps got slower. The closer you got to Jake the stronger the pang in your chest grew. You squeezed Sohee’s hand trying to get her attention but she had already seen enough. You two stood there watching as a girl eagerly kissed Jake’s neck, his face was hidden since he was looking opposite from where you were. “Jake?” You felt a pull on your heartstrings and a whimper left your quivering lips when Jake turned his head to the side and made eye contact with you. His face wasn’t showing any emotions previously, quickly contorted with shock as a gasp left his lips, making him immediately push the girl away. Still, Sohee was quicker to pull you away from where you were standing. She was letting out some curses on her way to the booth, something that you couldn’t hear.

When you finally reached the other boys they all were looking at you with worried expressions. Their eyes flickered between each other and you were finally able to catch on what was happening when you arrived. “You guys knew?” you said with a choked sob. None of them were saying a word, making your blood boil when you got your answer. “You all fucking knew this whole time.” you screamed, pointing your finger at them accusingly. “How long has it been going on?” Jay was quick to speak up. “It was just today.” he started. “We didn’t know she was gonna be here and I don’t think Jake knew either.” You were starting to get even more confused “What do you mean she?” you asked shaking your head. They all looked at each other not knowing what to say. “Heeseung, did you know about this?” Sohee asked her boyfriend, and he quickly shook his head no. “No, i swear. None of us knew and as he said it was probably a not-so-pleasant surprise for Jake as well.” Knowing that everyone knew who she was and they weren’t explaining it to you was leaving you irritated and you just wanted to leave. “Sohee can we just go home.” you quietly asked and she ran a hand down your back in a soothing manner. “Yeah, give me your car keys, I’ll drive.” You both turned to leave, no words were exchanged apart from a Drive safely from Heeseung.

When you sat in your car you felt like something exploded inside you as you started sobbing uncontrollably. You hid your face in your hands as you started sobbing. Sohee reached for you, holding you in her embrace. “I don’t even know why I’m crying it’s not like we had something.” you said trying to wipe your tears but they just kept coming. “Y/n, it wouldn’t take a genius to see that something was going on between you two. I can’t honestly understand why Jake would be with someone else, especially her.” “Will anyone ever tell me who she is?” you said in an annoyed tone. Sohee sighed as she sat back in the driver’s seat. “That girl was Aerin. Jake and her were in a weird situationship, kind of friends with benefits but not quite that. They had that going on for almost a year but he eventually broke it off because he finally opened his eyes and realized how much of a bitch she was, even though we were warning him since the beginning.” she paused with a sigh. “She didn’t take it very well since she had always been possessive with him but we thought she finally had gotten over it, it’s been, like, a year and something?” she turned to look at you, seeing you with your head propped in your knees. She raised her hand to cup your cheek, brushing it softly with her thumb.

“I just don’t understand why he would do this, after all that we’ve been through.” You said feeling tears coming back, pooling in your eyes. “Sohee, I let all of my guard down for him, I told him my everything and this feels like history is repeating itself, you know?” You told her as memories from your history with your ex brought you a sour feeling “Y/n, whatever happened between you and Jeno is long behind, I thought we had already talked about this.” “I am over it, Sohee! But seeing Jake do this is just bringing all those feelings back. Six months right after I opened up to Jeno I find out he was cheating on me with the girl I shouldn’t worry about and now when I finally feel like I can commit to someone again, I see Jake like that, how is that fair to me?” you said turning into a sobbing mess again. Your whole body was shaking and Sohee felt her heart shatter seeing her best friend like this.

“Y/n, I know this really isn’t the right time to say this but I’ve known Jake for as long as I’ve been dating Heeseung and I can’t understand why he is doing this. This really isn’t like him, at all.” She rubbed your back “I’m more than sure he will explain himself to you soon. This just doesn't sit right with me.” You wiped your eyes as you sniffed “I don’t want to see him anytime soon, Sohee.” She smiled sadly at you. “I know, honey, But you know it will eventually happen right? It’s inevitable.” You nodded at her, knowing she was right. “Let’s go home yeah? You can stay at mine today. Don’t want you dealing with this alone.” 

Sohee drove off as you stared out the window. Millions of thoughts were running through your head and you felt like it was about to explode. Eventually, you fell asleep during the ride and only woke up when Sohee softly shook you when you arrived. You both entered her apartment, being immediately greeted by her cat who was rubbing herself in your legs. You crouched down to her level, rubbing behind her fluffy white ears, making her purr. Oh to be a cat. Sohee gave you one of her pyjamas for you to sleep in and some makeup wipes, knowing you probably wouldn’t even bother to take it off. You both slipped into her bed, sleeping together like you two would back in the day. You laid back against the headboard as she texted Heeseung to update him. Your own phone buzzed on the bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a notification that normally you would be excited to answer, but not today. You read the texts Jake had sent you.

jake <3: y/n please                                                   

jake <3: i know what it looks like but it isn’t like that 

jake <3: let me explain please                                     

jake <3: you know id never hurt you.                        

You dropped your phone in your lap as you rubbed your eyes with your hands, starting to sniff again. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the tears as you sighed and leaned back against the headboard. Sohee looked at your phone and then at you, making her sigh. “Where did i go wrong? I must’ve done something really bad in my past life to deserve this.” “Y/n, cut the nonsense, you don’t deserve this, ok?” she said grabbing your arms and turning to look at her. “You’re gonna get through this with me and when you’re ready you’re gonna go back to work and maybe talk with Jake, yeah?” You took a deep breath before nodding at her. “Good. Now you’re gonna rest and tomorrow we’ll see what’s gonna happen.” She grabbed your phone and turned it off, putting it on her bedside table. She turned the light off and you let your head fall into the pillow with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, trying to shake off all the thoughts going through your head until you felt your eyes closing on their own.

The weekend had gone by slowly. You had texted your mom after everything happened to tell her you were gonna stay at Sohee’s for a few days. All you did was mop around the house and lay in your friend’s bed all day, only getting up when you really needed to. You were sure you were sleeping more than 12 hours a day and still felt like the energy was drowning out of you. Sohee tried to get you to go out and encourage you to go to work to help you forget things but the anxiety you felt at the possibility of encountering Jake was keeping you from doing so. You knew that staying home all day and doing nothing until Sohee came back from work wasn’t gonna help you in any way and you honestly wanted to do something about it but you had no energy to do anything. You walked to the kitchen for nth time that day, placing your cereal bowl on the sink with an accidental loud thud, making you hiss. You sighed as you looked at the mess of plates and cutlery you had accumulated in the sink within just a day. “God, what am I doing.” You said talking to yourself. You stared into nothingness as you got in deep thought. Being like this wasn’t gonna take you anywhere and avoiding situations where you might meet Jake won’t either. So, you made the final decision that you were going to work tomorrow, no matter what. You looked at the clock on the kitchen’s wall and saw it was already 6:30 pm, so without any more self pity you walked to the bathroom to take a shower, determined to get back to your usual work routine. You stared at your figure in the mirror and almost apologized to yourself as you took in your messy and unkempt appearance. You entered the shower and let the warm water fall on your tense shoulders. Sighing, you let your head lean into the shower wall as your body shook with a sob when Jake filled your mind again. Had he tried texting you anymore after that night? You couldn’t really know since you had blocked him on your social media. Was he hurting the way you did? What had really happened? Maybe you were overreacting all this. You should’ve let him explain himself. Dumb y/n, so dumb. 

Jake felt horrible. You really had to come near him at the wrong moment and see something that really wasn’t what it looked like. But he should’ve known the moment she texted him the night he was at your house she was serious. Why couldn’t Aerin just get over the fact they weren’t together anymore, as if they were ever actually together. In his head, it was starting to be too good to be true. As if he was ever gonna get lucky with someone like you. Of course, he had to fuck it up in any way. It’s all your fault, Jake. This was all you. Those words kept repeating themselves in his head as he laid in his bed as his whole body was filled with piercing anxiety. He didn’t know what else to do. He called Heeseung and said you still hadn’t gone to work that week.

The boys knew about the situation and Jake always tried to explain himself while he cried on the phone with any of the guys, even if they reassured him they believed him every day. He should’ve known better than to get involved with Aerin in the first place. He had always been warned about it so why did he still do it? Why couldn’t he just do anything right. The past few days were spent with Jake lying in his bed as he cried and cried for as long as he could. All the feelings he bottled up for so long left his body, making his whole self shake. When he finally was able to open up fully to you, he had it all taken away, knowing you had let your whole guard down for him. He knew you weren’t doing any better than him and that hurt him even more. Knowing he couldn’t be the one to hold you and comfort you was killing. Jake knew he couldn’t stay like this forever and all he wanted to do nothing more than reach out to you and tell you his truth but he knew he had to give you space. So he waits for as long as he needs to because he is not letting you go because of her, he wasn’t letting that happen.

You woke up at the same time as Sohee. The moment you opened your eyes you instantly felt a pang in your chest, knowing you had to go to work today. You threw your arm over your eyes as you sighed. Sohee looked at you as she rubbed her eyes to wake herself up. “Good morning.” she told you to which you only answered with a grumble making her chuckle at you. She got out of bed, opening her curtains, making you squint at the bright light invading the room. “C’mon, get up. You need to get ready.” You sighed again at her words before sitting up on the bed. After you both got ready for work, you sat down at the table as you had breakfast together. “So,” Sohee said mid-chew “are you ready for today?” You looked at her as you sipped on your coffee. “I mean, no. But as you said I can’t keep avoiding him and it’s better if we talk already than not.” You answered as your fork played with the blueberries on your plate. “You got this, yeah?” Sohee reached for your hand across the table. You inhaled as you felt your eyes water but you held yourself back. You nodded at her as you whispered a Yeah in response to her.

You left around 10 am which was the time Sohee usually left for work. As you made your way to the shop, anxiety started bubbling up in your chest, making you take deep breaths to try and keep yourself together. There’s nothing to worry about. If Jake ended up showing up at the shop you guys were just gonna talk, or maybe not. Maybe he will explain to you and assure you it was not what it looked like or maybe he wasn’t and it was exactly what it looked like. “Well, shit.” you said to yourself as you arrived at the shop. You parked your car, seeing everyone already there. You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air breeze around you. You walked inside and there stood Heeseung and Sunghoon staring at you with warm smiles. “Hey guys!” you greeted. You walked towards them and Sunghoon pulled you into a hug, making you let out a shaky breath. “How’ve you been, dummy?” He asked, letting you go of his arms. “Well, y’know, not good. But! I’m here to change that and yes I’m going to avoid that conversation, if you don’t mind.” They nodded their heads at you, Right and Of course! were their only answers before you asked Heeseung if there was any work for you to which he assigned you to check a car’s engine and gasket. 

You got right to work and you were glad you could distract yourself for most of the time. The car needed to get his gasket changed and it wasn’t an easy task so you needed to have your full focus on it. Working made the day go by faster and you barely had time to lunch as you were so immersed in the task you were assigned to do. Sometimes Ni-ki would linger around you, mostly joking around as you worked, keeping you company, which you were glad he did. If anyone had told you you would’ve ended up getting a summer job at a mechanic shop and befriending the six workers you wouldn’t believe it. But you couldn’t be more glad that you did, you had quickly made six precious friendships with six boys who were all you could ask for in a friend. As someone who never found befriending people easy, you were quite proud of yourself as you had found six treasures in only a lifetime. You knew you could always rely on them, and despite the age gap between the two younger ones, you still would trust them with your life nonetheless.

You felt sweat dripping down your forehead as you worked, making you get up from your bent-over position to wipe the sweat with your forearm, adjusting the strap from your overall that was slipping off your shoulder. “God.” You sighed loudly. Heeseung slid from underneath a car to check on you, “Everything ok?” he asked sitting up. “I guess. Just this thing is harder than I thought it would be.” You said putting your hands on your hips as you stared at the engine in thought. You knew this was gonna be hard, but one wrong move you would need to do it all over. Heeseung got up and walked to where you stood staring at the car. “I think you’re going on the right path. Nothing is looking wrong or weird so keep going.” He said patting your back “You’re doing well, you always do.” You chuckled at his words “You flatter me, Lee.” He laughed at your words “All for the best of my wor-” 

His words were cut off by the roar of an engine. A familiar Ford Mustang pulled up in the driveway.  Your breath stopped for a while until you felt Heeseung get his hand off your back. “I think I should go somewhere else…” You nodded at him, fully understanding why he was doing it. You pretended to go back to work, trying to convince yourself that Jake wouldn���t come over to you if you did that. You heard footsteps getting closer to you and you felt your breath pick up its pace. You got this. “Hey…” You heard the deep yet soft voice say. You looked up to see Jake smiling softly at you and you almost teared up at that. You tried to reciprocate the smile but you were sure it came out shaky. “Hi, Jake.” You said nodding at him. Your gaze drifted from his figure, trying to look at anything but him, as you fiddled with your fingers. “Nice patch!” He said chuckling, making you blush as you stared at the Care Bears patch placed upon your knee. “There was ripped so my mom put it on for me.” You said still not looking at him, making him mutter a Cute under his breath, which you almost missed. “Why are you here?” You asked, looking at his face, but you knew damn well why he was here. Jake took a shaky breath in as he leaned against the wall behind him, his own gaze now avoiding yours.

“I guess- No, I know and I need to explain myself to you.” He started, gulping his anxiety away. “What you saw that night wasn’t something anyone would expect that would happen. I mean, I should’ve had to be honest. The night I went to have dinner with you and your mother I told you I had received a text from my father. Which isn’t a lie, because I did, but you also deserved to know that Aerin had also texted me.” His eyes finally met yours with an apologetic gaze. Your face was contorted in confusion and you waited for him to explain it further. “She somehow found out that you and I had been hanging out and that there was something between us and she texted me some nonsense about knowing I still wanted and was using you as a rebound.” You stared at the ground hearing those words. “Was I a rebound to you Jake?” You asked quietly “No!” He answered with no hesitation “Of course not! And I hope you never felt that way because all I did for you was genuine.” his hand twitched, Jake wanted to reach out to you but he knew he still had further explaining to do. “Going on. That night I was supposed to go out with guys from my soccer team as well as the guys here but Aerin somehow was involved with some of the guys in the team and joined as well. The moment you started approaching me she threw herself at me and started doing whatever she was doing and before I could react and push her away you had already seen it.” His voice became shaky as he played that moment back in his head. “And I would and never will blame you for reacting the way you did. If I was in that position I would do the same, most likely.” Tears started falling from your eyes as you heard him talk. 

Your chest was tight with guilt. You felt bad for what you did to him. He didn’t deserve to go through what you made him go through. You sniffed as you tried to wipe the stubborn tears that kept falling. Jake took a step closer to you, feeling his own eyes water at the sight of your miserable state. “Baby, please don’t cry.” The pet name left his lips before he could think about it but you didn’t seem to have heard it or mind it. “Jake I’m so sorry.” You said between hiccups of sobs “Please, please forgive me. I probably made you go through hell when you didn’t even do anything. I was so selfish.” Your cries got louder as you spoke and you didn’t even care if the boys could hear you. “Y/n, no! Stop apologizing. It was not your fault, ok? You aren’t the one to blame. You weren’t the one causing this, Aering was.” He said pulling you into his embrace. The knot on your chest broke as you finally felt his comforting touch and scent that you loved so much. “I would forgive you in a heartbeat if you had anything to apologize for, but you don't, you hear me?” You looked up at him, sniffling softly as you nodded at him. Jake cupped your face to wipe your tears as he smiled softly at you. “I’m sorry I made you go through all of this.” You saw the tears pooling in his eyes, making you cup his cheek.

“Are we ok now?” He asked, worry still lingering in his tone. You smiled widely at him as you furiously nodded your head “Yes! God, Jake, of course!” You said chuckling between sniffs. He laughed along with you as he stared into your eyes endearingly. Your breath calmed down as you both stared into each other eyes. None of you making a move to look away. Your eyes drifted from his eyes to his lips and you caught a glimpse of him doing the same. You don’t know who was the first to move but suddenly your lips were on his as you two share a long-awaited kiss. Your arms went around his neck as his hands were still cupping your cheeks. You leaned your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Jake let out a happy sigh into the kiss, making you smile against his lips. You both pulled away and you let your eyes look around the room to avoid his gaze. Jake laughed at you and you buried your face into his neck to hide the crimson red spreading on your cheeks. Jake pulled you off of him and held your hand as he started pushing you outside. “Let’s go.” He said nodding towards his car. “Jake I can’t I have to finish-” “Don’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure Heeseung won’t mind.” You were hesitant but still let him drag you to his car. “Ok- wait. Slow down, oh my God. Isn’t this kidnapping? Geez!” You said scowling lightly at him at the eagerness he was pushing you with. “Stop talking nonsense, silly.” 

The boys finally gathered around the entrance as they heard Jake’s car leave with you both inside it. “Well, it was kinda awkward.” Jungwon said breaking the silence. Sunoo rolled his eyes, slapping the boy's arm. “What? It’s true!” He said raising his hands in surrender. Silene took over again as everyone tried to process what had just happened. “If all it takes to leave work early is to argue with my girlfriend then I’m down.” “Ni-ki, shut the fuck up.”

You were anxious for today. Even though Jake has been countless times at your house and had dinner with your parents just as much, you’ve never been at his house, let alone met his parents. But it would change today, Jake had called you today, inviting you to have dinner with his parents at his house. As much as you wanted to refuse, you knew you couldn’t, you couldn’t delay this moment any longer, sooner or later it was gonna happen and it was happening today. You didn’t know how to really feel about it. From what Jake told you, you knew his dad wasn’t the best person but you didn’t know much about his mom. You felt anxiety creeping up your body as you got ready for the night. You tried to look the most presentable you could for Jake’s parents, not wanting to leave a bad first impression.

Your phone buzzed in your bed, you picked it up and saw Jake’s text telling you he was outside. You looked at your reflection one last time before grabbing your purse and leaving. When you got outside you were met with the breathtaking sight of Jake leaning against his car, looking like he just came from a cliché teenage movie. His skin was glowing with the bright sunshine, complementing his skin colour to perfection. His full black outfit was hugging in all the right places, making him look like a runway model. Jake noticed your staring, making him laugh silently. “You know you can take a closer look, right?” His words made you roll your eyes, despite feeling your cheeks grow hot. “You’re so cocky, Jake.” You said as you walked towards him, stopping in front of him as you leaned in for a peck. Jake hummed against your lips, holding your face to kiss you deeper. You tapped his cheek and pulled away, eyeing him with a warning stare. “We have places to be, young man.” Jake sighed at your words and you both got in the car. 

Throughout the car ride, Jake noticed your fidgeting hands and he knew you were nervous. He put his hand on top of yours, still looking at the road ahead of him. “There’s nothing to be worried about, y/n” He said in a quiet voice, making you look at him at the sudden words. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking back to the road. “I know. It’s just- I don’t even know why I’m nervous.” You answered chuckling humorlessly. Jake gave your hand a squeeze, giving you a silent reassurance. “I know that from what I say about my dad he sounds scary but he can be nice sometimes and I’m sure he will be pretty okay with you, so don’t think too much about it, yeah? Besides my mom’s gonna be there so it won’t be as bad.” You nodded and smiled at him, leaning on the center console to peck his cheek, making him smile.

Soon enough, you both reached his parent’s house. You felt your heart starting to race as soon as you stepped out of the car. Jake walked beside you, grabbing your hand, holding it tightly against his. Something in him was telling you he was nervous as well and it made you look at him with worried eyes. You both stopped at the front door, looking at each other. Jake smiled at you, nodding his head towards the door, making you take a deep breath as you nodded back at him. He rang the doorbell, the sound echoing in the loud silence as you both waited impatiently.

The door finally opened, revealing a beautiful woman. She didn’t look any older than 45, her skin was smooth with barely any wrinkles adorning it, only faint ones that marked her joyful smile. Her hair had a chestnut tone to it and the perfectly styled curls reached her shoulders. “Jake, my love.” She said as she pulled the said man into her embrace. “I’ve missed you so much!” Jake smiled as he looked at her with a grin. “Missed you too, mom.” He said lovingly pecking her forehead. “Oh, goodness. You must be y/n, I’m Sooyoung! So glad to meet you dear!” She said pulling you in a hug, making you smile at her as you felt the nerves slowly leaving your body. “Yes, I am! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” You told her, as she held your hands in her’s. “You know, Jake sounded so excited to finally introduce you to us, he would always talk about you when he called.” You heard Jake groan beside you. “Mom!” “What? I’m just saying!” She said laughing at his son “Anyways, come inside. Dinner is almost ready!” She leads you both inside the house. “Do you need help with anything?” You asked her “Oh no, dear! Don’t worry, everything’s almost done. You both wait in the leaving room while I finish it.” 

Jake took you to the living room, where his father sat on the couch as he watched whatever news channel was playing. He cleared his throat, making his father loom at you both. “Hey, dad. This is y/n, my girlfriend.” Jake said introducing you to the older man. “Hi, sir. It’s nice to meet you!” You said bowing slightly at him, wiping your sweaty hands in the back of your pants. Jake’s father got up, walking towards the both of you. His straight lips formed a slight smile as he pulled you into a hug, making you let out a surprised sound. “It’s nice to see the girl my son can’t shut up about. Can’t say I’m not surprised to see my son could keep up with a girl like you.” You felt shy at his words, not really knowing what to say. “Ah, I’m sure it’s not like that.” You said rubbing your arm anxiously. He then walked to Jake, shaking hands with his son, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Hope you’ve been behaving well, son.” He said patting his son’s head. “Dad..” Jake said rolling his eyes. The three of you sat on the couch, Jake's dad’s eyes were on the TV but his focus was somewhere else.

“So,” He started. “Where did you two meet?” He asked, turning to look at you two. You looked at Jake and then at his father “We met at my workplace.” You said nodding at him. “You work?” He asked curiously. “Well, it’s a summer job, but yeah I do. Been there for about two and half months maybe?” You smiled at him, rubbing your hands back in forth on your thighs as you tried to ease the nerves. He hummed “And what do you do, may I ask?” “Dad, it’s enough questions.” Jake said but you stopped “It’s okay, Jake.” You said smiling at him. “I’m working at a mechanic shop, which I know it’s not usual as a summer job, but I enjoy it a lot.” His dad opened his mouth to speak but before he could do so, Sooyoung called everyone to the table.

You were all sat at the table peacefully, immersed in a casual conversation. “We should totally book a dinner with your parents y/n, Jake talks about how nice they are when he stays at your house. “ Jake’s mother suggested. “Yeah, I think that would be really nice. They would love it!” You told her, smiling at her as you went back to eating. You noticed Jake had been quiet most of the night, only talking when you were the topic of the conversation. It made you worried that he was behaving this way. You noticed the way his hands were trembling and you wanted nothing more than to comfort him right there and then. You put your utensils down when you finished the meal and one of your hands went to his tigh to rub it in a comforting manner. Jake’s movements faltered when he felt it. His free hand went down to where your hand was placed in his thigh and squeezed it in appreciation. You interlocked your fingers with his and his thumb started rubbing the back of your hand. Jake felt his heart warming up at your actions, looking at you as you spoke with his mother. He smiled, looking down at his empty plate as he tried to hide it.

Jake’s mom got up and walked towards the fridge. “If everyone’s finished, I made dessert!” She said as she put a homemade ice cream bowl on the table. She sat back down and the conversation went on. “y/n I almost forgot to ask! What are you studying?” Sooyung asked as she looked at you. her elbow propped on the table. “Oh, I’m majoring in computer science actually!” You answered with a smile. “I actually share a few classes with Jake.” You said looking at him with a smile, seeing him already looking at you. “Oh really! What a coincidence, isn’t it!” His mother beamed at you. Jake’s father scoffed beside his mother making you snap your head in his direction. “I’m surprised he actually attends classes.” He said looking down at his desert. Jake’s hand tightened almost painfully in your grip.

The tension in the room was thick and if you wanted you could cut it with a knife. Jake’s mother scolded him silently for speaking about it when you were present, but the man couldn’t care less. “Soccer, soccer, soccer. It’s all that goes through that head of his.” He said, finally looking up at his son, who stared at him with a stoic expression. “I work hard every day to give him a stable future and yet he doesn’t even think about pursuing that.” He said with an expression that could be read as disappointment. “Look at his brother. Working a high-paying job, a stable one, and yet, you can’t take it as an example to look up to. Do you really think soccer’s gonna take you anywhere in life?” He asked but he wasn’t really looking for an answer. Your heart felt like it could jump out of your chest with how quick it was beating. Jake’s face was emotionless but his hands were shaking as the force of his own father’s words hit him like rocks. It hurt you to see him take all this and you just couldn’t keep yourself quiet any longer

“You know,” You started “Jake’s really good at what he does best, even if it’s at soccer.” You gulped your nerves down as you continued. “If there’s something my parents never did was interfere in my future. They never once told me I should follow this or that, never. Because nothing was more important than them seeing me do something that makes me happy. If soccer is what he loves doing, then why not let him do that? I don’t know a thing about soccer or sports but if he’s known in almost every national university’s soccer team then he must be damn good at what he does. So why not support him in that? Even if it goes bad for him, which I must say I doubt, he’s going to graduate so there’s always a plan b. Have you ever considered your son’s happiness? I genuinely don’t intend to be disrespectful to you or your company, but is your business more important than your son? You have a son working in that field so why not make him take over it instead of Jake, who clearly doesn’t want to do it?”

You looked at Jake, seeing him look at you with tears pooling in his eyes, making your own eyes water. “Jake deserves nothing but to be happy. If you only could see how much he’s done then maybe you would love him a bit more.” You got up from your chair, the scraping sound made you slightly hiss. Jake understood what you were doing and did the same. “I’m so sorry about this, but I just can’t stand you seeing talk so low of your son. I hope you can reflect a little bit. Again, I’m sorry.” You turned to leave, Jake following behind you.

When the front door shut close, Jake instantly broke down, throwing himself in your embrace. His body shook with broken cries, making you screw your eyes shut as you tried to stop your tears. You held him tightly, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. “It’s alright now.” you said in a whisper, your hand coming up to tangle itself in his hair. When his cries died out Jake pulled out of your arms, looking at you. His hands cradled your face, as his eyes scanned your features. He smiled at you, making you mirror his expression. He leaned down as he pecked your lips and your hands came up to hold his that were holding your face. “I’m sorry for, you know, causing all that. I just couldn’t not do anything.” You said looking down. “Hey, don’t apologize. Thank you for that, really.” he said letting out a breath. “It’s better you saying that than me having another screaming match with my father.” He smiled sadly.

“I didn’t know you liked me that much, though.” He joked trying to lighten the mood. “Oh, c’mon Jake, seriously.” You said groaning at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He said laughing. “Y’know, I like you that much too.” You felt shy under his gaze, suddenly not able to look in his eyes. “Do you really?” You asked as you kicked tiny rocks on the floor. “Yes, silly. Of course I do…” Jake tensed “Even more than liking, actually.” You looked up at him when he said that, seeing him biting his lips nervously. “What?” You asked, surprised as you felt your heart race. “I- sorry I shouldn’t-” “Jake.” You cut him off, laughing at him. He stared at you wide-eyed, his cheeks flushed and his ears red.

You threw your arms over his shoulder, making a slight force to pull him closer. You smiled up at him. “I love you.” Jake almost choked in his own spit, not expecting to hear those words coming out of your mouth. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to say something. He took a deep breath and put his hands on your waist, suddenly feeling like he was in high school again, about to have his first kiss. He leaned in to kiss you, moving his head to the side to deepen it. Both of your lips moving on their own as you shared a passionate kiss. Jake pulled away before he could go further, his forehead resting against yours as he giggled, making you laugh at his behaviour. “I love you too princess.” He finally said, “So much.” He pecked your lips again, and again, and again until you pushed his chest as you laughed at him. He grinned at you, as he grabbed your hand in his. “Let’s go?” He asked and you nodded at him. You both got in the car, ready to go home as some soft tunes played from to radio.

Jake had been trying to make his house a home for a long time, but maybe home was where you were.

[btsgotjams27]

things you didn't say | jjk

summary: with the recent interactions with jungkook, you try to downplay your feelings, but your friends encourage you to acknowledge your past and move forward.

✨ title: things you didn't say | tydk couple ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex-best friends to friends/lovers(?) ✨ rating: R/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.3k | ✨ playlist ✨ warnings: minor language, lana threatens oc with a fork, drinking, game of truth or dare, confessions, kissing ✨ a/n: hii--i'm sorry i've been a bit MIA in regards to writing. it's been such a struggle to get anything written. i've been thinking a lot about these two and i hope this last part gives us all some kind of resolution. enjoy. (and there's a small nod to something that'll happen in a different jk wip i'm working on hehe). and if you haven't read part one or two, please do so before reading this part.

✨ read part one | read part two ✨

The clock is nearly midnight, and you’re not ready for the magic to disappear.

All night, you’ve kept your heart at bay, questioning every move and word being spoken. Only you can see it, but a dark cloud is looming over you. Doubts linger like a predator waiting to pounce and take its prey. You want to avoid getting it wrong or being let down.

And your heart is the ultimate betrayer, but it doesn’t lie.

You’re caught up in sentimental memories from the past. His nose scrunches and boisterous cackles are reminiscent of the boy you remember. Hanging out and reliving past adventures felt like no time had passed, yet life updates from then to now made him feel like a stranger.

Giggles and claps, along with snorts and dribbles of wine, glide down the side of your mouth. The third wine bottle is on its way to being destroyed by the pair of you.

He’s careful to avoid the subject of Josie, for which you are grateful. If you could be honest, you would ask him why he was still with her and what he saw in her. But it’s not your place, nor are you in the position to pry.

Your eyes fall on the plants sitting on the corner shelf in the dining area—an array of pothos, snake, and rubber plants. They’re your typical plants, but it’s the planters that they’re sitting in that make you smile. The planters have stubby arms and legs with smiley faces.

Jungkook follows your gaze. “What are we looking at?”

You point to the planters. “Those little guys. They’re cute.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says. “I made them.”

“The planters or the plants?”

He swirls his wine glass, letting out a small laugh. “The planters.”

“You made those planters?” You stand, walking over to them. 

“When I get bored, I try new creative outlets and ceramics was one of them,” he says, taking a sip of wine.

“Wow, you have a knack for things like that, huh?” You pick up a planter, inspecting it before setting it down. “You could open up your own Etsy shop or something. People would buy these in a heartbeat.”

“Eh, I suppose. I just like doing things with my hands. It makes me feel useful.” Jungkook shrugs. He watches your every move as you continue eyeing the different ceramic pieces he’s made: vases, candleholders, etc. “Do you think people would buy the things I make?”

You lift a coiled vase, turning to him. “Are you kidding me? People would eat this shit up. Once your pieces sell like hotcakes on Etsy, Urban Outfitters will slide in your DMs.” You’re not surprised Jungkook easily excelled at something like ceramics. He’s always been talented at anything he picks up.

“And you were good at anything creative when we were in school—art class, wood shop. I would’ve failed wood shop if you didn’t help me finish my project.”

“Yeah, your birdhouse was fucking terrible.”

You scoff, walking toward him, playfully shoving his shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He deadpans. “Even birds would avoid your birdhouse.”

“Shut up! I tried my hardest.”

“Didn’t try hard enough,” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin on his face.

The pair of you continue to bicker about nothing, but the constant buzzes of notifications from his phone are hard to ignore. You’d catch Jungkook peering, tapping his fingers, debating if he should reply.

You sip from the bottle of dessert wine, you find it sweet and refreshing on your lips. “If you need to get that, then don’t let me stop you.” 

Jungkook lifts his phone. “Nah—it’s nothing,” he protests before his phone vibrates in his hand. He glances at the illuminated screen and he finally picks it up. “Sorry, let me answer this. I’ll be right back.”

He hurries out of the kitchen and into the darkened living room. You can only hear Jungkook’s stern, hushed voice, but you can’t make anything out. His change in demeanor hints at one person, and it’s Josie. Which meant it was your cue to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.

You raise your wine glass, gulping the golden honey peach Moscato. Thank goodness they’re easy to guzzle. A drop runs down the side of your mouth, and you swipe it away as Jungkook walks back in.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Hmm? Oh—don’t worry about it. I, um, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, so I should get going.”

“What? No, stay. We have to finish our Moscato.”

A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you contemplate his proposition. There’s a tug in your heart, wanting to stay into the early hours of the morning, but there’s your brain telling you to take it slow and go home.

“I wish I could stay, but I should head home. I have a load of laundry to fold and sadly, it won’t fold itself.” You stand up from the bar chair, feeling a bit wobbly on your feet. Jungkook rushes to your side, gripping your waist, but you catch yourself by holding onto the counter.

“You can’t hold your liquor?” He asks with a wide grin, pulling you upright.

Clearing your throat and flattening down your jeans, you spit out, “Ha-ha. I can hold my liquor just fine. I merely tripped.”

Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a terrible liar—see, I still remember that.”

You gasp sharply, with a hand over your chest. “I’m surprised that big ‘ol head of yours can remember anything. I thought it was only filled with games and girls.” Sticking out your tongue, you conk him on the head with your knuckles.

“Ow.” He rubs the spot as if you had knocked him with a bat.

Taking out your phone from your pocket, you pull up Uber.

“Let me take you home, at least.”

You give him a look, slowly blinking your eyes at the devilishly handsome friend. Could you even call him a friend again? Maybe it was too early for that.

“Did you forget that we both had too much to drink tonight? So, you shouldn’t be driving me. It’s fine, Kook. I’ll get an Uber.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing he can’t convince you otherwise. “Fine. I’ll wait with you outside until it gets here.”

“Well, it’s not like I can stop you.”

The pair of you are sitting on his front steps, watching cars drive by and cats strolling through the neighborhood. His place is in a newer part of town, one that was built while you were away. It’s familiar and odd, just like you and Jungkook. As much as you want to forget the past and move on, there’s a part of you holding onto what the two of you had. Would you ever become best friends again? Would you even consider letting him be a part of your life? Those were questions for another time, but it felt like you had your best friend back, even if it was just for tonight.

As the alcohol in your system dwindles, the brain fog becomes clearer, along with your hearing. A nudge from Jungkook makes you come back to reality. “Hmm?”

“I asked, ‘Do you still go stargazing’?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I do, but the spot I went to during college isn’t as good as the one we used to go to.”

Jungkook hums, avoiding your gaze as he picks up a small pebble from the ground. “We should go there sometime,” he mumbles under his breath. He continues toying with the pebble before throwing it into the bushes.

You’re trying to suppress a smile and swat away the butterflies growing in your stomach. It’s dumb to think things could go back to the way they were. It’s unrealistic and you don’t want to get hurt again.

Turning toward him, you want to set the record straight. “Let’s um, take this whole friendship thing slow, Kook. Dinner was great. It was nice talking to you again, but you do understand where I’m coming from, right?”

He nibbles on his bottom lip and nods. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You check your phone again. The Uber is two minutes away. As you click it off, you turn and see Jungkook staring. Something is brewing behind those starry eyes. With a raised brow, you ask, “What?”

“Can I call or text you sometime?”

“Just don’t, uh, go texting me all day and night. Your girlfriend might get jealous. Might even put a bounty on my head,” you tease, reaching to pull his black CK cap over his face.

He takes his cap off, carding his hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. As you’re immersed in your phone and looking up at the street for your Uber, Jungkook silently observes you like has for the past few years. Some might say it’s a red flag, but how else was he supposed to know if you were happy? That’s all he’s ever wanted—for you to be happy, loved, and have all your dreams come true, even though he wasn’t there to cheer you on. For seven years, he has been tormented by what he did, and he didn't want to jeopardize any possibility of any kind of relationship with you. It doesn’t even have to be like before, just as long as the two of you are on speaking terms. He could live with that.

A dark sedan pulls up alongside the pair of you. You grab the door handle, pause for a moment, then turn back to Jungkook. “We’ll talk soon?” He raises both eyebrows and hums softly, giving a thin smile. “Bye, Kook.”

Two weeks passed, and there was no text or call from Jungkook. Plenty of thoughts ran through your mind, the number one being Josie had found out about your little dinner and locked him in a basement, cutting off all contact with the outside world—especially if it was with you.

But you’re a big girl. Why should you be waiting around to hear from him, anyway?

If there’s one thing you hate about adulting, it’s cooking. You missed the days when you were in your angsty teen phase, headphones in, and hating the world, then your parents would yell ‘Dinner’s ready’. And as much as you missed home-cooked meals, you loved that your parents were off gallivanting around the world, living their retirement dreams. One day that’ll be you, living off your retirement and eating out 24/7, but for now, there’s a decision to be made about what will go in your salad for the week.

Cucumbers.

Strolling in the veggie section, your eyes scan for the green vegetables before landing on them. You stood debating on which one to get. Why are there so many varieties? But according to Google, Persian cucumbers go great in salads.

As you grabbed a second cucumber, you looked up to see the man who betrayed your trust. And no—it wasn’t Jungkook. It was his roommate, Jimin, aka ‘the trickster’.

With a stomp in your step and a cucumber in your hand, you march over to him, striking him on the shoulder with it.

“Ow!” Jimin exclaims, rubbing his shoulder as he turns around. His brows furrowed, lips in a full pout when he finds you standing behind him. “What the hell?” He looks to see the weapon in your hand. “Did you just hit me with a cucumber?” You hum. “Why’d you do that?”

Tossing the cucumber in your basket and crossing your arms, you huff out, “Because you deserved it!”

“Deserve what?”

You roll your eyes at the not-so-innocent man. Was he trying to play Cupid or something with you and Jungkook?…Because his stupid plan kind of worked. You truly had a great time at dinner, and it was nostalgic, just like how things used to be.

“Mmhm. Count your days, Park,” you quip, turning around to head in the other direction. Jimin’s calling after you to wait for him, but you keep on walking.

As he catches up, standing beside you, he nudges your arm. “Oh, come on. I was just trying to help a friend out,” he finally admits.

“Well, don’t.”

Jimin strides in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey—” You attempt to go around him, but he’s unrelenting. “Just hear me out, okay?” You sigh, waving for him to continue. “I’m sorry I ambushed you, but it was the only way you’d hang out with Jungkook. I know the two of you had shit go down in the past, and I just wanted to help you both move on to being friends again.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because,” he pauses and straightens his back with his chin up. “I like you and I like Jungkook, and who wouldn’t want to see their friends be happy, hmm?”

Jungkook’s laughter echoed in your mind. You knew it was dumb to miss something as simple as a laugh, but you had heard it for so many years, and then it stopped for a long time. It felt nice to have a piece of an old friend back.

Jimin gives you a look and a grin sweeps across his face. There’s a satisfaction behind that grin and you wish you could wipe off.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Park Jimin,” you say, stepping off to the side as a customer rolls by with their cart through the two of you.

He laughs, showing off his pearly whites. “I should check out and head off—don’t want you to start getting any ideas and start a food fight here in the grocery store.”

“Yeah, you should run.” You pretend to grab the cucumber and watch him run off to self-checkout.

A buzz from your back pocket alerts you of a notification and, to your surprise, it’s a text from Jungkook. It looks like he hadn’t forgotten about you.

Jungkook 1:34 PM Hey. I’m throwing a small dinner for Jimin’s birthday on Friday at 7 pm. Say you’ll come.

You 1:35 PM Define small.

Incoming Call Jungkook

“If I come and it’s a big party like last time, then count me out.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Right—hey. No, but seriously. I’m not a big crowd kinda gal.”

“Including me and you, there would only be six people. That’s not a lot, right?”

It’s not, but you’ll have to save your social battery for the dinner party.

“No, yeah, that’s fine.”

“And don’t worry, you know everyone—Lana’s going too.”

The big question is: will Josie be there?

A beat passes and you realize you’re standing in the middle of an aisle, probably blocking someone’s way.

Jungkook’s voice comes through your phone, calling your name a few times. “Hello? Hey. Are you still there?”

You turn to make sure no one’s around. “Yeah, sorry. I’m still here. Is, um, ‘who-shall-not-be-named’ coming?” You ask, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. It’s a name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

He chuckles at your subtle attempt to avoid the Josie topic. “I can promise you that she’s not coming. Is that why you’re hesitant to say yes?”

“Pfft–what! No!” you blurt out, lying through your teeth. Truth be told—yeah, it is. You don’t want a repeat of Jimin’s party.

You clear your throat, “Anyway, yeah, I’ll come. Count me in.”

“Cool! See you on Friday.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“Nope–just yourself. Oh, and it’s a surprise, so don’t say anything to Jimin.”

“‘Kay…sounds good. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Can’t wait to see you,” he said with enthusiasm before hanging up.

As you’re mixing the salad, you’re staring absent-mindedly at the abstract painting that’s framed on your wall because those five words rang in your ears on the drive home.

You mumbled those words in different tones, trying to make sense of the innocent expression. It’s completely normal for Jungkook to be excited. He hasn’t seen/hung out/talked to you in almost seven years. Yeah, that’s it—at least it’s what you’re telling yourself.

Lana waves her hand in your face. “Um, hello! I don’t think you can mix the salad anymore!”

Looking down, a few springs of leaves have been tossed out of the bowl and onto the counter. Oops. You pick them up, throwing them in the garbage bin. “Sorry—I was distracted.”

“Clearly.”

As you push the bowl aside, your focus is on the unopened bottle of wine.

“Are you going to tell me what’s distracting you, or should I wait until the wine settles in?”

“You can wait until the wine settles in. It’ll give me time to forget about it.”

Lana picks up a fork, threatening you with it. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me—”

“Okay, okay. The other day, Jungkook called to invite me to Jimin’s dinner party.” Lana narrows her eyes and hums, intently listening. “At the end of our conversation, he said, ‘Can’t wait to see you’, and he seemed excited.”

She nods her head, waiting for the rest of the story, but you don’t say anything else. “That’s it? God–that’s so boring. I thought you guys kissed or something.”

“Lana!” you cry out, almost knocking over the wine bottle.

“What? I thought he would’ve made his move by now.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no move to make. He’s with Josie, remember?”

“Josie Schmosie—she’s old news, but you,” she points and grins, “You’re back and here to fuck things up,” she claps with a gleeful smile.

“Oh, will you stop it? I’m not back to do anything—and what the hell, Lana? You’re not helping!”

Lana chortles, covering her mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sure what Jungkook said to you is just a simple expression of how much he can’t wait to see you and get you underneath his sheets.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know why I bothered you with this.”

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise—just kidding. Can I ask one more thing?” You wave your hand for her to continue. “You’re telling me you don’t even want to revel in the idea of the two of you being something more than just friends?”

The iciness of the tiled counter becomes apparent underneath your fingers, and you’re faced with a question you never wanted to answer—aloud, at least. Considering that he’s tried breaking up with Josie multiple times, but somehow is still with her, you’re unsure what will push Jungkook to cut off the head of the snake.

You hate that Jeon Jungkook has been—scratch that—is your Roman empire. He’s the one thing you’ve come back to even when you didn’t want to. It’s the same three questions you’ve had: Is he okay, is he happy, does he miss you too?

And if you’re completely honest, the answer is yes. Of course, you’ve reveled in the idea of you and him.

“I don’t know, Lana. I mean yes—the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve liked him since senior year, but it takes two to tango, and Jungkook can’t do that right now. Besides, I won’t wait around for him to come to his senses.”

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, that’s the expression, isn’t it?

You can’t imagine going through another heartbreak from the same boy.

Things happen in life that don’t make sense.

Especially for the price of a pair of earrings, you’re currently looking to purchase as Jimin’s birthday present. The sales associate senses your hesitation and brings out a similar pair that’s on sale.

“Ah—that’s more like it. I’ll take those and do you still provide gift wrapping?” you ask, looking at the sign you saw on the way in.

“Yes, we do. Let me go into the back and wrap it up for you.”

The associate disappears through the back door, probably to talk shit about you to their co-workers, but hey–a girl has to save money where she can. It’s a fragile economy.

You roam, looking through the display cases of bracelets, rings, and watches. A gold Casio watch catches your eye–it looks like one Jungkook used to wear. He treasured the vintage-looking watch because it was his father’s. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him with it when you saw him. Maybe he lost it or replaced it with something else.

Either way, you continue eyeing pieces of jewelry you’ll never purchase for yourself, and it’s when you look up to catch a glimpse of a girl you recognize. But it’s the man marking her neck that isn’t your ex-best friend. You’ve locked eyes with which she-who-must-not-be-named, and maybe it’s not too late to pretend you didn’t see her.

The sales associate returns the wrapped gift along with your credit card. You quickly thank her, looping your arm through the gift bag. Your eyes scan everything in view to see if the coast is clear. There’s no sign of your enemy, so you dart out of the store only to find Josie and this mystery man looking at the window display at the neighboring boutique.

Fuck, just go on your way and don’t engage. Don’t engage! You say to yourself, swiftly walking past them.

You’re busy berating yourself to hear someone calling your name. Stopping in your tracks, you sigh, waiting for Josie to catch up.

“Hey!” Josie chirps like the two of you are friendly.

“Hi…” you say glumly, with furrowed eyebrows. She’s never been nice to you before, so why should you start now?

“Can you not tell Jungkook what you saw?”

You tut, blinking your eyes at her like you owe her a favor. “Look Josie—what you do doesn’t concern me, okay?” you say, walking past her. It’s been a few weeks since you last saw her and she’s cheating on Jungkook with some guy? God, if only you could smack him upside the head right now—Josie too!

You’re a few steps ahead before you stop in your tracks and turn, walking back to her. You huff, “Tell me one thing. If you’re off with some guy behind Jungkook’s back. Why are you still stringing him along, then?”

Josie looks at you, ready to answer, but you raise your hand, stopping her. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

As you walk off again, there’s a revolting feeling in the pit of your stomach having to keep this to yourself. Jungkook deserves to know the kind of person Josie is, but it’s not your place to say anything. You’re not his best friend anymore. Honestly, you’re unsure what the two of you are and sometimes, there are some things you just shouldn’t say.

Whenever you think about seeing Josie and that mystery man, it makes you want to gag, and throw something at the wall, but mainly at her. Who knows how long she’s been cheating on Jungkook? You tossed and turned in bed, debating whether you should say something to him.

The dinner party is tonight, and if you happen to be alone with him and the Josie topic comes about, then you’ll mention it.

Another thought crosses your mind, what if he thinks you’re making this up because you’re jealous of Josie? Ah, fuck. Either way, you’ll turn out to be the bad guy, right? You’ll either break his heart or you’ll sound like a jealous person.

You don’t want to ruin whatever the two of you have, because you’ve missed the comfort of an old friend and you don’t want to lose it again.

Even though you know the code, you don’t press the four digits. Instead, you knock, waiting for someone to open the door.

“Hey!” Jungkook says, eyes dropping to your hands. “I said you didn’t have to bring anything.” He takes a step back, letting you through, and grabbing the box of Soju.

“I know, but Lana always says, ‘Don’t go anywhere empty-handed’,” you say, flashing a small smile.

“Ah, well, the Soju will go great with tonight’s menu.”

The aroma from Jungkook’s cooking is immaculate. You can almost taste the different dishes he’s prepared.

“Oh my god, it smells so good–like how your mom used to make food for us all the time.” You walk over to the dinner table, displayed with grilled meat, japchae, tteokbokki, buddaejjigae, and a plethora of banchan. “How is your mom? I miss her and her cooking.”

Jungkook chuckles softly. “She’s doing great. Her cooking, though? Not so much. It’s become too salty for my taste—Don’t tell her I told you that.”

You rub your hands together. “Oh, you bet that’s the first thing I’ll say after giving her a hug.”

“Don’t! She’ll disown me. She already hates that I’m a better cook than her,” Jungkook says, opening the box of Soju.

“You should become a private chef or something.”

He opens the refrigerator door, placing the Soju to chill. “Nah—I’ll just cook at home. I’m still learning, testing the waters, y’know?”

“I hate you.”

His eyes perk up with concern. “What did I do this time?”

“You’re good at everything you do—it’s unfair to the rest of us peasants.”

Jungkook relaxes at your answer, thinking he did something wrong again.

Placing the last Soju bottle in the fridge, he turns back, scanning you from head to toe. You’re dressed in an oversized Linkin Park band tee and jeans. He recognizes the shirt, the one you wore religiously during your emo teenage years.

“What? Is there something on my face?” you ask, touching your cheeks.

He shakes his head no and clears his throat. “I, um, wanted to talk to you...about something.”

“Oh?” Your eyes and ears perk up, but you’re interrupted by a commotion coming from the front door.

“The birthday boy is coming! Hide!” Lana says in a hushed tone. She rushes over to you, crouching down behind the counter, pulling you down with her. You chuckle, shaking your head.

With the front door open, Jungkook’s other roommate, Namjoon, walks in first–hand in hand with his girlfriend, and then following is the birthday boy.

Lana peers above the chairs to see if they’ve come in. “Surprise!” She cries out. Everyone’s ears must be ringing at this point.

Jimin gives a half-smile along with a chuckle. “Lana, you ran past us in the driveway.”

Her mouth turns into a cheesy smile. “You caught me. Sorry, I kind of ruined the surprise.”

“Happy birthday Jimin,” you say, walking over to him, arms out for a hug.

“I’m glad to see you and Kook have made up,” Jimin utters. “He needs someone like you around.” He pulls back, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

Namjoon and his girlfriend, Nora, greet you and Jungkook and then take a seat at the dinner table.

You look at Jungkook. “We’ll talk later?”

He hums in agreement. “Yeah, later.”

You’ve missed this—hanging out with old friends. It’s fun to be around people who you’ve known for a long time. You remember Namjoon being a senior when you were a freshman and the stories you’d hear about him—prom king, valedictorian; he did it all when he was in school. And Nora was the perfect woman for him. They’re both working toward their doctorate in philosophy. Their IQs were the equivalent of yours, Lana, Jimin, and Jungkook’s combined.

“Wow, I feel unqualified to be sitting at this table,” you say jokingly. Being an HR specialist was never the plan, but you’ve come to enjoy your job because you like to think you’re a good judge of character when it comes to hiring.

“Let’s stop talking about work, and have some fun! After all, it is Jimin’s birthday. How about a game of Truth or Dare?” Nora asks, looking around the dining table to get some confirmation. “I need verbal consent, please.”

Everyone glances at each other, awaiting answers. There are various responses, and everyone agrees to play.

Nora claps with a joyful squeal. “Okay, Jimin gets to ask first since it’s his birthday. Choose your victim, and anything’s fair game!”

There’s a groan from you and Jungkook. You have a feeling this night will become interesting.

Jimin rubs his hands together and then points to each person. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” He continues the rhyme, and you know he’s itching to choose you or Jungkook, and his finger lands on Jungkook.

“Oh-ho-ho. Please pick dare, or I’ll make you answer something you don’t want to,” he says, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at his devilish roommate. “Don’t test me, Park. I can make your life a living hell, too.”

“Ah yes, I’d like to see you try.”

Your heart’s racing, and your hands are sweaty while gripping the chair’s armrest. Jimin has always been sneaky, and you’re sure he’ll make Jungkook kiss you.

Everyone’s waiting for Jungkook’s answer. He groans before replying, “Fine. Dare.”

Both Lana and Nora let out muffled squeals while you’re holding your breath.

“I dare you…to say something dirty to ____.” Jimin grins from ear to ear, staring at you.

You knew Jimin would be unrelenting when it came to you and Jungkook.

Turning to Jungkook, you say, “If you’re uncomfortable, don’t do it. It’s just a dumb game.”

“Hey! Nora said anything’s fair game and my dare is completely harmless. I could’ve asked you to do something else, but I didn’t,” Jimin refutes.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook says with a scowl. Turning to you, he leans over. His breath is warm against your ear, goosebumps are trickling on your skin, and your hair is standing on its end. He whispers, “You look so pretty—wish I could do this forever.”

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re supposed to say it aloud for everyone to hear,” Jimin protests.

You visibly gulp, returning to a straightened position in your chair. The ten words he said shouldn’t affect you, but it does. The room has grown warmer and you’re practically melting like butter in a hot pan. It’s just a silly game and you’re so over Jimin and his antics.

“Your dare was ‘to say something dirty to ___’. You didn’t specify if it was a whisper or if I had to shout it from the rooftop,” Jungkook chirps, quickly glancing in your direction to make sure you’re okay.

Jimin glares at Jungkook with a blaze of a thousand suns. “It’s implied that you say it out loud so everyone can hear.”

Lana elbows Jungkook. “What did you say? How dirty was it? Like, give us a rating, PG-13, R, NC-17?” He doesn’t answer her, but she looks at you, pointing her fingers to her eyes and then back to you, indicating that you’ll tell her later.

“I’ll let it go this time, but from now on, no whispering, and everyone has to hear what everyone says,” Jimin demands, awaiting confirmation from the group. “Okay, Jungkook, it’s your turn.”

He turns to Lana and bluntly asks, “Would you ever sleep with Jimin?” Jungkook peers at Jimin because he knows that Jimin’s had a crush on Lana since high school.

Lana’s mouth twists before answering, “Yeah, I guess.”

Jimin scoffs, offended by her response. “You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!”

“And I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!” he chirps back.

“Please—I’ll be the best sex you’ll ever have,” she jeers, crossing her arms.

Jimin stands. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He retorts, raising his chin in defense.

Everyone ‘oohs’, staring at the two like they’re in a stand-off.

“Prove it! Prove it!” Nora urges, pounding her fists on the table.

Namjoon fakes a laugh, muffling his girlfriend’s pounding. “I’m sorry. She’s had too much to drink. Don’t listen to her.”

Jimin leans forward, hands on the table. “Yeah…prove it.” He raises an eyebrow, wondering if Lana will back down or take on the challenge.

“Right now?” She tilts her head, scanning him from head to toe.

He shrugs. “Mm, what a shame. I guess you’ll never be able to prove it,” he says with a tut.

The chair legs squeak when Lana pushes herself to stand. “When’s the last time you got tested?”

“A month ago,” Jimin quickly replies like no one else is in the room. “I’m clean. You?”

“I’m clean too. You got condoms?”

You sink in your chair, wiping your face, watching these two go off on each other. Honestly, you can’t believe you’re witnessing this.

“Got a whole box ready for you.”

Lana marches over to Jimin, grabbing his hand. “Well, come on birthday boy.”

Your mouth drops, watching the two-run upstairs. “They’re not gonna fuck, are they?” Lana has been in a dry spell for the last year, so you don’t blame her for wanting to get laid.

“Yeah, I think they are,” Jungkook answers. “Yah—” he turns to yell toward Jimin’s room. “Keep it down, will ya?”

The rest of you continue the game, but they’re just questions to get to know each other.

“Jungkook, if there’s one thing you could take back. What would it be?”

He looks in your direction, then plays with his Soju glass, spinning it a few times. You’re biting the inside of your cheek, eyes bouncing from him and then to Nora and Namjoon.

“Um, I’d go back to the day I broke ___’s heart—take everything back.”

The couple looks at each other, forcing a fake laugh. “Well, I can sense the tension between our friends here,” Nora says. “Joonie, baby, didn’t you wanna show me that thing in your room?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow. “What thing?”

Nora stands, tugging his hand, and drags him down the hallway to his room. You can hear the two bickering before the door closes.

You’re silent. Unsure of what to say. You want to move forward, but the past keeps haunting you. Will it always be like this with you and Jungkook? And certainly, there are things you didn’t say that you should say now, but what’s the point?

“We should clean up,” you say, picking up a few plates to stack them. Jungkook follows your lead, helps clear the table, and walks over to set them in the sink.

Turning on the faucet, you rinse off the plates. Jungkook leans back against the kitchen island, eyes scanning over you.

“I meant what I said earlier.”

You close your eyes, then breathe out a sigh. Looking at the boy who used to be your best friend. His eyes hold the galaxy and you get easily lost in them. You’re an explorer longing to find the next big discovery. It’s right in front of you, but at a moment’s notice, you might lose him like you did before.

“Kook…we were kids back then, and you can’t change the past.” You continue to wash the dishes, but it’s hard to focus when he’s near.

Jungkook reaches to turn off the water, gently squeezing your arm to look at him. “Yeah, I know, but I can try to fix it now, right?”

Your hands grip onto the sink, your eyes focused on the water dripping from the spout. You fixate on Jungkook’s words. How can he reconcile a friendship he tore apart? And for what? A girl?

He calls your name, breaking your focus. “Talk to me.”

There’s a tightness in your chest as you turn to him. “Fix it? I don’t want you to fix it.”

“O-kay…then tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

If it was only that easy.

You close the distance between you, looking at him. “What do I want?” He hums. “I want you to be broken. Wrecked—just like how I was. It took me years to get over you—our friendship. I hate it, Jungkook.”

“I hate what I did to you—”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, Kook.” Your heart is aching—like someone reached in, squeezing it as hard as they can. 

“Then explain.”

Your eyes meet his. “You. Own. Me,” you say, your index finger pressing into his chest with each word. “These last few weeks have been excruciating. I don’t know who I am when I’m around you. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’ve moved on. You’ll always be the one thing that I’ll never be over.”

Your heart is pounding, and every inch of your body is burning to the touch. You didn’t think anyone could ever make you this livid. But as much as you want to hate him, moving back home simply confirms everything you’ve been attempting to hide for the past seven years—you love him.

“I was hurt, too. You don’t think I was?” Jungkook says softly, lifting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I was devastated, knowing how much I hurt you. I couldn’t eat or sleep for days. Seeing and talking to you every day and then it just stopped. My world was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I watched you go off to live your life while I was stuck here with you, haunting me everywhere I went. Philz, the damn grocery store, the park–you were there. There was no escaping you. So yeah, I was wrecked and broken, just like you.”

The narrative you created in your head of Jungkook and Josie was something out of a fairytale. Boy meets girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after. But according to Jungkook, it was hardly the case. You haunted him as much as he haunted you throughout the years.

Chuckling to yourself, you think about how this could've been avoided if one of you had just spoken up. Stepping back from him, you take a breath to calm your nerves. You lean back against the sink, arms folded. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s eyes flick to you and his body mirrors yours. “I’m an open book, ___.”

“Why did you give up so easily? Why didn’t you fight for me? Our friendship?”

A beat passes, and he doesn’t respond. It’s foolish to think he’d have an answer for you.

Your lips thin, and you breathe out a sigh of frustration. “It’s fine, Kook. Don’t answer. We’ll just go back to the way things were. Have a good life.” You walk off toward the living room and he follows.

“You don’t get to walk away,” he says, shutting the front door when you try to open it.

“Yeah? Watch me!” You turn back to the door, attempting to open it, but Jungkook’s hand is holding it shut.

He grips your arm. “I was scared, okay? I was young and stupid, and scared.”

You turn around and push him back. “Scared? You’re still scared! That’s why you can’t even break up with Josie! She’s cheating on you, by the way! I saw her with some guy glued to her neck. I don’t understand why you can’t just let her go.”

“I’m not scared of breaking up with Josie. I just got comfortable with her being around and didn’t think I could do any better.” Jungkook steps back and reclines on the couch’s armrest.

“You don’t think you can do better than Josie? You’re Jeon Jungkook, of course, you can.”

He forces a laugh, shaking his head no. “I barely graduated high school, practically failed my college classes. I don’t have a steady job and I have no idea what I’m passionate about. So yeah, I didn’t think I could do any better than Josie, until…”

“Until…?”

“Until I saw you at the party. I know it sounds cheesy, but when I saw you standing in the living room. It was like a sign from the universe, waking me up from this auto-pilot life I was living in. Seeing you again really shook me up.”

You could say the same thing about seeing Jungkook again. The universe loved to toy with the two of you, didn’t it?

“And then after our dinner two weeks ago, I broke up with Josie–like officially. I gave all her stuff back. I’m not answering calls or anything. So, I guess when you saw her, she must’ve moved on to the next guy–that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, me breaking up with her.”

There was a sense of relief when he said that because you were ready to fight Josie.

“Oh,” you say softly, taking a step toward him. “I guess I was wrong about you—being scared, I mean.”

Jungkook’s toying with his necklace, circling it around his neck. “I’m still scared.” He steps toward you, waiting for you to look at him. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” he says.

“How are you going to mess this up? We’re just friends.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be ‘just friends’.”

Your gaze flicks to him and then drops to his lips and back up again. You know what he’s alluding to, but you need to hear those words leave his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He knows you’re teasing him. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

“Because I love you, okay? I’m in love with you. Have always been in love with you, and I’m scared to lose you again.”

Your eyes are glossy, fighting back tears. You’ve longed to hear those words from Jungkook, and like him, you’re afraid of an unknown future, but right now, all that matters is him.

As a tear falls down your cheek, you’re ready to let love in. Let him in. Discover new things. Rediscover old things. You’re ready to be vulnerable, move forward from the past, and let go of the heartache and pain.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe.

Jungkook steps toward you, cupping your face. “No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You shake your head. “No, I do. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you–for our friendship. It’s my fault too.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks. “Hey, can we agree to let the past be in the past and just focus on us now, in the present?”

Your hands cover his, and you nod, flashing a soft smile. “Mhm. I’d like that.”

Jungkook wipes your tear-stained cheeks. “Now, can I do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time?”

“What’s that?”

His lips finally touch yours. It’s not fervent or haste. It’s soft, uncertain. But you kiss him back. You’re savoring each point of contact. His lips overlapping yours, capturing a hint of your cherry Chapstick. Your eyes are half-lidded and you pull back for air, but he leans in, bringing you back in for more. His nose bumps into yours as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. Your body presses against his, your fists balled up, tugging on his white t-shirt. There’s a glow of excitement and nervousness rushing throughout your body when one of his hands grips your waist and the other is on the small of your back, pushing you further into him.

A low whine leaves his lips when you withdraw. He reaches for another kiss, but you stop him.

“Kook—” you whisper as his forehead touches yours.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he says, kissing your cheek and tracing your jawline. “Don’t think I can ever stop.”

You chuckle. “I don’t want to stop kissing you, either. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”

While lying in bed next to Jungkook, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. Your fingers trace stars across his chest and you love how he breathes–his chest rising and falling ever so softly. The sound of his voice vibrates through your fingers and into your body. With one arm wrapped around you and the other resting behind his head, Jungkook tells you about the dreams he had but never dared to pursue–you being one of them.

And as the clock strikes midnight, the magic of you and him didn’t dissipate. It’s here. It’s real.

[featherwurm]

I'm going to get a lot more personal on here than I usually do:

Baulder's Gate 3, and especially Karlach, make me feel seen in a way no price of media I've ever engaged with before has. It's a big reason why I love it and why it's sticking with me like it is. I too am a big, loud, enthusiastic woman who says out of pocket shit. I have a heavy internal dialogue with myself. I have a temper, I'm bisexual, I love cute shit. I endured years of being utterly touch starved. I love sex and food and being alive...

I also have cancer; it's Follicular B-Cell Lymphoma. I was diagnosed in 2020 when it had reached stage 3A. It's currently under control after chemo* and I'm living my life normally. But while it's a very treatable kind of cancer, it's not fully curable**. There's nothing in me they can remove (it's my whole lymphatic system that's broken) and no drug currently that can wholly knock it out. It's cause is not known (genetically or environmentally), and its unusual for this type of cancer to affect someone as young as I am (I was diagnosed at 35 - it's much more common 65+***). So every three months I go into oncology and they check my blood and symptoms and see if I'm doing ok. I get imaging and biopsies occasionally too. This will go on until I'm not ok (hopefully a long time yet). I'll have to have still manageable but more invasive treatment the next time around. It's a well researched kind of cancer, and my oncologist hopes that in the next decade there may be some more permanent cure for it.

So you can see where I'm going with this. When you hit Karlach's monologue after killing Gortash, I've never felt better understood. I have no one to blame for my condition, no revenge arc of course, but the very same fear, frustration, grief, and anger are all things my husband has heard from me. I've never seen a more beautiful and moving and real exploration of the topic that resonates with me so meaningfully out of a piece of fiction that I love. Béart's performance is amazing - capturing a whole spectrum of emotion.

Karlach's story is absolutely not incomplete as written, confirmed by both the devs and Sam Béart - a terminal condition is just that. You don't get to fix or save her, you get to go with her through tremendous trial and difficulty. If you want to continue that story in your mind that's great (I know I'm eager to do so, for my own personal encouragement if nothing else) but on it's own it's a whole story about coming to terms with something that doesn't have a quick and easy little fetch-quest resolution.

So - every time I see another whinging post/essay/bitchfest about how her story feels "unfinished" or "incomplete" or "has too much cut content" you can see why I might take it a bit personally - knowing that the life I have, the easy solutions I don't get, and the frustration and grief I live with is seen as incorrect and wrong and bad writing makes me a little pissed off. If you think the story is incomplete as told and think a 'third engine upgrade' is missing you completely missed the point.

Karlach doesn't get a simple easy ending because people like me**** don't get that either. And like my husband and the others who love me you can choose to follow that story anyway. And that's fucking beautiful.

*Yeah dealing with cancer and undergoing chemo during a pandemic was really a peach.

**XKCD hits the nail on the head here and here.

***Current treatments have good decade long prognoses... but saying 'you'll probably be fine for the next 10 years' is a lot different at 35 than it is at 65.

****And believe me I've heard from a lot of chronic/terminally ill folks who love the game for the way it represents these things and feel the same, with her Gale, and Shadowheart too.