#'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?'
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Save the Cat is a snappy read, and only 8 chapters, so I'm just doing a liveblog of them unless I get bored or distracted.
Chapter one is about the pitch, the logline, the title, what you put on a poster and how you sell it. It doesn't necessarily come first, but I get the sense that for Snyder this would be his preferred way of doing it. (A logline is just the one-sentence "what is it about" that you use to sell people on the idea.)
Snyder says that writing loglines is awful, soul-crushing work, and I agree there. I'm awful at it. But Snyder also says that if you don't have a good logline, maybe there's something wrong with your movie, and that I don't agree with.
I think there's a fairly wide set of stories that have good, snappy, easy loglines, and are also good stories. But I think there are other stories that are good stories and don't have a great way to pitch them. The lack of a good pitch can exist for a lot of reasons, and sometimes it's just that it's more complex than can be summed up in a single sentence, or even a handful of sentences. I think in practice writers will often dumb down the story for the logline, lying about what's contained within, just to make sure that it will sell, that people will want to know what's inside.
One of the other main points of the chapter is that a good logline has irony to it, a twist inherent in the title, some kind of thematic tension, and I disagree with that too, maybe not from the standpoint of selling a script, but from the standpoint of storytelling.
Why does everything have to have an irony to it? Why does everything have to have a twist? Why can't we have stories that are just well-told explorations of conflict and character? It's like at some point people decided that they only wanted Distinct Pieces of Media, so if you wanted to tell a story that's been told before, something with its own unique texture, you're just shit out of luck.
I find this all the more irritating because often the twist/irony/idea/pitch is good, and then the execution is shit, and then people don't want that idea again. It's not like you can say "like that thing that flopped, but good".
Blake Snyder is trying to tell good stories, but he's also trying to sell stories, and this is a good thing for authors to know how to do. I accept this. I just don't like it.
So as a writing exercise, here are some loglines for things I've written, without the amount of care and polish and revision that a good logline needs:
Worth the Candle - A teenaged dungeonmaster gets thrust into the worlds he's created, where his recently deceased friend is a historical figure. (This is bad, not short and snappy enough.)
This Used to be About Dungeons - Five young adults team up to delve dungeons and bake pies. (I don't know man, I said I was bad at this.)
Thresholder - A man travels through portals to different worlds and genres, gathering powers and skills as he fights other people just like him.
Shadows of the Limelight - In a world where fame gives you power, a fanboy saves the life of the world's greatest hero in full view of the public.
The Dark Wizard of Donkerk - An orphan raised by two dark wizards adventures north with a wayward princess.
Millennial Scarlet - A gig-economy demon hunter grapples with the death of his mother and the plans she set up before she passed.
Alright, I found that less soul-sucking than usual, but I don't think that these are the oiled, muscular, perfectly toned and smiling loglines that are necessary to sell, just to be clear. The marketing unit of written fiction is not really the logline, though that helps, it's the blurb, and I am equally awful at writing those. I just don't agree with Blake Snyder that a blurb or logline coming poorly is a sign that you don't know the story.
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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. âHeâd never met me though.â
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. âYouâre reckless, Matthew. Utterly reckless.â
âCâmon, poppetâŚâ He lowers the gun to rest on the table, pointing away from you. âYou can still hear my heartbeat, canât you?â
You nod.
âDid you ever hear it stop?â
You shake your head.
âThen there you have it. Iâm just fine.â
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㥠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 đ¤]
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 itâs a tolerable temperature, you sample your work, and hum a quiet note. Itâs⌠on the bland side, to put it mildly. If this pot were for you alone, youâd be reaching for the spice cabinet post haste. It isnât, though, and you donât even find yourself lamenting that fact, given the company youâre soon to be sharing it with.
When youâd 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 doesnât get much more basic, (or flavorlessâŚ), 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 youâd rather not dwell on, the taste, or lack thereof, of his signature âsoupâ was hardly the worst of them.
It was hardly the best either.
Rather unremarkable aside from the bizarre circumstances of its initial presentation, it wasnât the taste that you found so off-putting. It was the texture. Clumps of bread thatâd grown far past soggy, nearly turning to sludge amidst the watery broth, it was just⌠unpleasant.
You could never wrap your head around Mattâs apparent genuine enjoyment of the dish. In the beginning, before you knew him better, youâd 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 werenât dealing with a sane man at all.
When you once questioned him on it, he gave you a vague yet sincere answer. âOh, itâs an old family recipe.â The words had rolled off his tongue with ease, and your brow furrowed. He rarely spoke of any family, hell, you werenât 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 wasnât that surprising, in all honesty. It didnât make you doubt him much, either. Even less so nowadays, with your approximate knowledge of just how old his idea of âoldâ 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, thatâs been lost to the unrelenting passage of time.
Sometimes you wonder who heâd 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 Mattâs supposed love of that awful soup of his, you werenât too keen on it yourself. Youâd 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 neednât fear a disagreement so trivial. Eventually you brought it up, letting him down slowly so as to not insult his⌠familyâs cooking.
He took it far better than youâd feared, only seeming a bit⌠saddened, that youâd exaggerated your initial assessment of the dish. You werenât 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 couldnât imagine that eating nothing but bread and water could be good for him, but then again heâs 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 doesnât mean youâve lost your taste. You still crave food, and if the two of you are going to be eating together, youâd like it to be something you both can enjoy.
Thatâs how you found yourself presenting him with an innocent bowl of oatmeal, figuring it wasnât that far of a step away from his preferences.
You quickly gathered that youâd underestimated his palateâs sensitivities.
Youâd 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 didnât cringe, or gag, or any other outrageous reaction youâd 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. âWhy is it⌠spicy?â
It took everything in you not to laugh, both from pure surprise, and at the meme he was unknowingly quoting. âI⌠is it? Itâs spicy to youâŚ?â
He took in a second thoughtful bite, and nodded. âYeah⌠kind of? Itâs a little thick⌠and has this⌠I donât know.â He brought his hand up to cup his exposed jawline in thought. âItâs⌠hmm⌠no, not dirt, oh whatâs the word⌠earthy! Like⌠spicy⌠wood, or something.â You bite back a smile at his explanation, and catch how he mirrors yours when his eyes land on you. âI⌠I think I quite like the sweetness of it though.â
You quickly gathered that he was awfully sensitive to- well, just about every flavor, the more intense ones especially so. And his baseline for âintenseâ was adorably low. It made enough sense you supposed, given youâd no idea how long heâd been eating that same flavorless glop of his. It did raise a brief question in your mind though, the answer which youâd silently searched for when you were next alone.
A brief search in your phoneâs browser shut down your fleeting line of thought that perhaps heâd 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 1800âs. So, it was unlikely that the spice, and similar others, werenât available to him in some capacity then. Well, if your attempts at surmising his origins were correct, that is. It didnât 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 youâd learned to treat his many other anomalies. Perhaps heâd lived in⌠unique circumstances even then. Perhaps the true extent of his âold family recipeâ 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 âspicyâ 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 youâd upped the water and forgone the cinnamon. Heâd quite enjoyed your vegetable soup, too, once you parted ways with your beloved garlic and onions.
It wasnât 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. âMatthew, youâve got to be the whitest man I know.â
You doubted heâd get the reference, which only made his honest response infinitely funnier in retrospect. In the moment, though, it just made you a bit sad. ââŚYou know other menâŚâ
It wasnât 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. âNone of them have ever held a candle to the ways in which I know you.â
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 rangeâs dial back to its vertical off position. Itâs then, in the otherwise quiet room, that Mattâs 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, youâd had a fleeting fear that it would grow to annoy you, but youâre relieved to have found that to be far from the case. Itâs comforting, above all else. A soft, constant reminder that heâs still alive, and still with you, even when he isnât 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 werenât 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 heâs never seemed to mind.
So it wasnât 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 heâs rounding the corner. âWelcome ho-âŚ-omeâŚâ 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. âWhat- what happened? Are you okay?â
He pulls his gloves off, tossing them onto the table next. âOf course I am, dollâŚâ 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. âItâs not mine.â
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 donât ever want to overwhelm him.
Turning behind you and pulling your own chair near, you release his name in a shaky breath. âMattâŚâ You have to ask. âDid it⌠go south?â
His elbows thunk lightly against the table as he props them there, leaning forward. âOnlyâŚâ He sighs. âOnly a little bit.â He eyes the cash on the table. âI still got the job done.â
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. âWas it worth it? I donât ever want you taking a job for the sake of the-â
âThis wasnât about the payment.â He gently cuts you off, shaking his head slowly. âThatâs not why I took this job.â
âWas it⌠personal, then?â
ââŚNot quite.â His gaze drifts up from the table to stare out the small window above the sink. âIt was⌠a moral thing, I guess. If Iâd passed on it, there was a risk of it becoming personal. But- even if there wasnât⌠Iâm not the type to let a man like that walk.â
You question him gently. ââŚLike what?â
He glances at you for a moment, hesitating on his words. âHe⌠had a reputation. Real big, strong, the cocky type. Liked throwing his weight around, starting fightsâŚâ Matt laughs. âHe was so overconfident in himself, that- word was- he never even carried a gun. Thought that his sheer strength, âstreet smartsâ, whatever, would be enough to carry him through anything.â
You roll your eyes at the notion. âSounds like a real prick, yeah. But still, thatâs not enough to get a bounty put on himself⌠right?â
You canât see the way the edge of Mattâs 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.
âFist fights werenât the only way he liked to⌠throw his weight around. He also had a penchant for targeting people that he knew couldnât stand a chance at fighting back. He⌠enjoyed taking things that didnât belong to him.â
The dark, disgusted edge that Mattâs voice has taken tells you that heâs not talking about material possessions. Your stomach drops. ââŚOh.â
âYeah.â His gaze locks onto the table. âThere are⌠certain lines that you just donât cross. He quite enjoyed crossing them. I quite enjoy killing those who do. So, no. It wasnât about the money, doll.â
You uncross your arms, taking a deep breath. The metallic sting of the low-lifeâs 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. âI wish youâd have let me come with you.â
You can hear the frown in his voice. âLike I said this morning, love, it was too dangerous-â
âDonât you know how much Iâd have loved to get in on a job like that?â
He breathes. In, and out. âI⌠do. I do. But I couldnât risk it. Not this time.â
To his credit, he was often quite lenient with your requests. As much as heâd 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 doesnât. Heâs 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.
Thatâs why you didnât 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, youâll step aside. But seeing him now, looking so worn down⌠knowing the type of revenge you missed out on, even if it wasnât yours to take⌠itâs hard to stomach that you could only sit back and wait.
Your silence doesnât sit well with him, so he continues to explain. âI 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.â He shakes his head, resolute. âNo. I wonât ever risk that. I couldnât live with myself if heâd so much as laid a finger on you.â
His eyes meet yours, and to your surprise, theyâre almost pleading.
You hold his gaze for a moment before responding, letting the airâs tension ease. ââŚI get it.â You sigh, but itâs mostly one of acceptance. âBut Gods, Matt, you look like you could collapse. How big of a fight did he put up, anyways?â
The old wooden chair creaks beneath him as he leans back, giving it his full exhausted weight. âHe was a good fighter, Iâll admit. Strong too.â 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. âHeâd never met me though.â
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. âYouâre reckless, Matthew. Utterly reckless.â
âCâmon, poppetâŚâ He lowers the gun to rest on the table, pointing away from you. âYou can still hear my heartbeat, canât you?â
You nod.
âDid you ever hear it stop?â
You shake your head.
âThen there you have it. Iâm just fine.â
His idea of reassurance could use a little work.
âAre you though? For- for all I know he couldâve hurt you fifty different ways, you healed on the way home, and Iâll be none the wiser! Itâs not like I can just strip you and look for myself, I have to take your word for it!â
Heâs 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 youâre staring at. His wide-eyed gaze flicks toward you, but he doesnât pull back. ââŚWhat is it?â
You reach a cautious hand out, giving him time to stop you, and he doesnât. Pinching the material of his mask between your finger and thumb, you wince when you feel that it isnât dry. Gently pulling down, you part the fabric far enough to get a better look beneath. âYou have a tear in your-â
You canât 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. ââŚItâs not a tear.â
You pull your gaze away to look into his eyes. âItâs a cut.â
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 theyâre tinted black.
Sheepish laughter escapes him as you release your hold on his mask, your frown deeper than ever.
âWhat can I say? He, eh⌠he brought a knife to a gun fight.â
You donât laugh. âHe cut through your mask. He hurt you.â
At your tone, Matt scrambles to do damage control. âIt was barely a scratch! You- you know- one thing about big guys like him? Theyâre not all that nimble- or- or- agile like me. He hardly even landed any hits on me!â
Your eyes widen. ââHardlyâ? Are there more!?â
He shakes his head, hands held out in a placating gesture. âNo! I- I mean- I donât think so! Itâs⌠kinda hard to tell⌠yâknow? I was so caught up in the moment, itâs⌠easy to miss something as small as the sting of a blade.â
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 whoâs 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. âMatthewâŚâ
âIâm sorry, loveâŚâ You canât read much of his expression, but he sounds guilty.
You force yourself to take a calming breath.
ââŚNo, no⌠itâs not your fault that he hurt you.â You could argue that itâs his fault for taking the job alone in the first place, but thatâs hardly fair of you to say. Not when you know how much of his motivation was to keep you safe.
âYou⌠donât have to show me, if he hurt you elsewhere. Not if it isnât vital. But please, at least let me help somehow. I can- I can wash those clothes for you.â Your gaze roams across the cut in his mask. âAnd I can mend that hole.â
âYou donât have to do any of that, doll, I-â
âI want to.â You cut him off with conviction. âIâve- Iâve got food for you too⌠if you want itâŚâ 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. âYeah⌠yeah. Okay. Iâd like that.â
You stand, coming around to lift the fabric from his shoulders. His voice grows soft. ââŚThank you.â
-
With soup in your stomachs, Mattâs freshly washed clothes tumbling in the dryer, and himself currently in the shower, you release a breath you didnât realize youâd 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.
Mattâs order of operations this evening were strange, but hardly anything about him isnât, so you donât think about it too hard. Whatever compelled him to eat before his shower makes no sense to you. But hey, everybodyâs 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 didnât come out completely unscathed, but with his penchant for an all-black wardrobe, it was hard to tell. You werenât 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 wasnât 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 doorâs 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. Mattâs 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 maskâs 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 youâll need. Itâs a pretty clean cut.
You push aside the quiet question of how sharp the manâs 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 mightâve 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 wonât leave you be. Thereâs 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 thatâd 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.
âDeath by a thousand cuts.â Heâd told you.
Long as you may live, you donât think youâll ever forget it.
You try not to dwell on those memories, but itâs hard not to lament what couldâve happened. How differently things couldâve gone if youâd had the power that you possess today. How youâd have pulled that blade from your stomach without fear and shoved it through his throat so fast he wouldnât have seen it coming. How youâd 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 hadnât had to show up and save you that day, things couldâve gone differently. Maybe the two of you wouldnât have had to part ways afterward. Maybe your next meeting wouldnât have been handcuffed together in an unfamiliar room.
Who knows. Itâs a waste of time to wish you could change the past. And if things hadnât gone the way they did, maybe youâd have never seen him again at all. Maybe thereâs 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 âunknown forceâ was nothing more than him, plopping down on the bed next to you. You open your mouth to respond, but youâre 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.
âOh, no!â Comes Mattâs shocked voice from beside you after his gaze follows yours. âOhhh, no, no, no. Did I make you do that?â
You assume your fingers mustâve slipped when he startled you, but you arenât about to blame him. You struggle to find your words as you stare at the tiny impalement. âItâs⌠itâs fine, honey, I was just⌠zoned out. Didnât even notice that youâd left the bathroomâŚâ
You gather Mattâs mask in your free hand, unable to put it down given that itâs 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 donât feel yourself in your bed anymore, and you donât 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. Heâs 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. Thatâs 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?
Matthewâs 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.
âItâs over. Heâs dead. Heâs dead, and gone, and never coming back, and you didnât do anything. You never did anything to deserve that. Not any of it.â
Youâre tempted to close your eyes, wanting his voice to be the only thing you can perceive, but he stops you. âAh-ah-ah- no, no, poppet, stay with me. Want you to keep your eyes on me, okay?â
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 heâs 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 mindâs 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 youâd planted his last two hearts. âDo you feel that?â
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.
âGood. Focus on that for me, okay? Focus on that while we breathe. Just follow my lead, I know you can do this.â
He patiently guides you through a few long minutes of breathing, until youâre able to match his measured breaths. As soon as you feel able, you try to apologize. âIâm so sorry, Matt, I donât know what came over me, I just-â
He gently hushes you. âPumpkin, câmon, none of that. You donât have anything to apologize for, okay? Just breathe. InâŚâ You copy him again. âAaand outâŚâ You manage to let your shoulders drop on the exhale this time, and he smiles. âGood. There we go.â 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 doesnât make your head swim this time. Matt still tries to distract you from it, leaning in to break your line of sight. âYou donât have to worry about that, doll, Iâll take care of it-â
You nod, but still cut him off by tugging your hand closer for a better look. âYou can- Iâll- Iâll let you, I just⌠wanna see.â
He allows it, his careful grip on your wrist remaining. âSee what?â
You turn your hand under the light. âHow deep it is.â Your stomach turns a bit as you stare, but youâre relieved to find that itâs 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 bodyâs capabilities, the risk from something like this is as trivial as a paper cut. You suppose you just havenât 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. ââŚOkay, Doc, have at me.â
Matthew chuckles. âMe? A doctor? Goodness, what is this world coming toâŚâ
Attempting to keep the mood light, he playfully considers your minor injury as he steadies your upturned hand on his knee. âNow, this is a pretty cool piercing, Iâll admit. But itâs also a pretty inconvenient one, isnât it. So as- uh- oh, what do the kids say these days⌠hardcore as it looks, Iâm gonna need to remove this, alright?â
You nod, laughing beneath your breath, and he finds himself satisfied with the small smile he manages to bring out of you.
âIâll make it as quick and painless as I can, yeah? Want me to count you down?â
You close your eyes, shaking your head. âNah, itâs fine. In your own time.â
âAlright, love. Deep breath in for me?â
You inhale, and one short, mildly uncomfortable moment later, youâre freed from the painful intrusion.
âThere we go.â 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. âBad needle, bad! No one hurts my poppet, not even you.â 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 dĂŠjĂ 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.
âWould you⌠like me to go grab a bandage for that, dear? It should⌠stop bleeding on its own very soon, but, I donât mind if you-â
You shake your head. âThatâs not necessary. I, uh⌠Iâm offering.â
His brows raise. âOffering?â
âY-yeah. A taste. If you want it.â
His tongue briefly pokes out to wet his lips, a minuscule movement, but you catch it. âAre- are you sure? You were just pretty upset, I donât want to make anything worseâŚâ
You nudge your hand closer, an odd sense of desperation fueling you. âIâm sure.â
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. âGo ahead, if youâd like, love.â
His unsure gaze flicks between you and the remaining blood on your finger several times, before eventually giving in when you donât 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 âThere you goâŚâ, you take your hand back, admiring the pinprick scars.
âThank you⌠you, uh, certainly didnât have to offer thatâŚâ Mattâs 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.
âCan we do that again?â
He blinks a few times. ââŚPardon?â
You reach for your sewing kit. âCan weâŚâ You fish out a pin-filled cushion and present it to him. ââŚDo that again?â
You imagine the gears in his brain stuttering and shifting as his face cycles through several different expressions. âYou want⌠to do that⌠again? All of it?â
You nod, a slightly less than subtle smile on your face. âUhuh!â
âYou want to pierce yourself again? On purpose this time? Because I- I promise you thereâs easier ways to draw blood-â
âItâs not that different from a cut.â You interject. âAnd I⌠certainly donât have to be the one to do it, but I can be⌠if you⌠donât⌠want to.â Your voice is barely audible by the time you get the full sentence out.
âYou want me to do it?â He reaches up, placing his palm on your forehead. âAre you feeling okay?â 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. âMatt, Iâm high on endorphins right now, Iâm better than okay.â You squeeze his hand. âAnd Iâd quite like to make this last.â
What remains of your rationality pipes up, reminding you that perhaps he doesnât want to. You sober up a bit at the thought. âThat- that is⌠only if you want to.â
He shakes his head. âNo, I- wait thatâs- thatâs not a no! I mean- itâs not a yes either- at least- not yet! IâŚâ He sighs. âI just⌠donât want to bring up bad memories again.â
You alleviate his concern with admittedly shady logic at best. âWe can make new ones! Re⌠I donât know⌠re-route the association.â
He frowns, clearly skeptical.
âI promise you, Matthew, I wouldnât do this if I thought it would upset me.â
You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back.
âHow can you know that it wonât?â
âI⌠canât. Not for sure.â You place the pin cushion gingerly on your knee, and you crack a smile. âNot unless we try.â
He considers you for a long moment, and you release your eager hold on his hand, reiterating your prior point.
âItâs really okay if you donât want to.â
He takes the cushion in one hand and slowly pulls a random pin out with the other. He asks you a very serious question.
âWill you tell me to stop, the moment you donât like it anymore?â
Surprise paints your features. âOf course.â
He sets the cushion aside. âYouâre sure youâd rather I be the one to do it?â
Your breathing picks up. âIâm sure.â
He notices, because of course he does, and he smiles, voice regaining a playful edge. âWell then⌠what kind of doctor would I be to leave a patient in need?â
You hate to admit the effect such a silly statement has on you, but from the way heâs watching you like a hawk⌠you probably donât need to admit anything.
You ask one more time. âYouâre sure youâre okay with this? Donât let me pressure youâŚâ
He toys with the tiny, sharp instrument, rolling it between his fingers.
âIâd be lying if I said the idea of this doesnât⌠entice me.â He gently pokes at one of his own fingers, testing the waters. âAnd having you put this level of trust in me?â He meets your gaze. âItâs nothing short of an honor.â
âThenâŚâ You feel heat rising to your own cheeks, and flex your fingers before offering him your left hand. âPlease?â
He takes it in his, and pauses with a question. âAre 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 thoughâŚâ
You nod. âYes. I want it all, pain included.â
He smirks, running his thumb along the length of your middle finger. âYouâre a little crazy, you know that?â
You pout playfully. âOnly a little? âŚGotta step up my game thenâŚâ
He shakes his head, laughing beneath his breath. Focus returning to your hand, he requests your preference. âThrough the fingertip, like the first one?â
A rush of excitement tightens your chest. âYeah, uh⌠the middle one, this time, please.â
He holds the appendage steady, readying the pin. âSo politeâŚâ He glances up at you. âA countdown this time, or no?â
You shake your head. âNo⌠uh, again, in your own time.â
He picks up on the slight nervous edge in your voice. âYou donât have to watch, love.â
You consider it, and close your eyes. âJust⌠for this first one.â
You feel the tiniest point of pressure against the pad of your finger.
âNo second thoughts yet?â
Your lips curl up at the edges.
âNone.â
You donât even realize youâre holding your breath until he mentions it. âBreathe for me, doll.â
You obey.
âInâŚâ
Your lungs fill.
âOutâŚâ
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. Mattâs calm voice is quick to fill your ears.
âGood, good. There you go, youâre okay.â
You open your eyes and sure enough, heâs mirrored the first injury. Not too deep, just enough to hurt, and draw blood when removed.
His thumb rubs distracting circles into your palm. âHow are you feeling now?â
Your shaky breath turns into quiet laughter, and you feel a little unhinged as you look him in the eye. âGood⌠really good.â
Relief softens his features, and warms his smile. âGood. You did very well.â
Your cheeks heat from the praise, the feeling mixing deliciously with the slight throb of pain. âYou-â You take in a breath. âYou can take it out now.â
He shifts slightly in his position beneath you. âYou sure? Iâm in no rush, doll, we can take our time with this.â
âI know, I know⌠but I want it to bleed.â You unfurl your right hand from the sheets, reaching out to rest it on his left shoulder. âBesides, I hate to make you wait for your reward.â
His brows raise. âReward?â
âYou didnât think Iâd have you pierce me just to keep the blood all to myself, did you?â You grin. âItâd be an awful waste.â
âThatâsâŚâ His own breath grows slightly heavier, and you revel in it. ââŚVery generous of you, love.â
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 donât 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 Matthewâs lips. âSh-sh-shhh, youâre okay, youâre okay⌠itâs out now.â The mixture of comfort, pain, and praise that heâs 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. âOh-oh! I didnât know you were watching that timeâŚâ
You raise a brow. âIs that okay?â
A beat passes, and he laughs, soft and breathy. âOf course. Of course it is.â
Blood is already beading at your fingertip, so you raise it up in offering. âYouâre really good at this.â
He eyes your fresh little wounds and a faint sense of satisfaction blooms deep within him. ââŚAm I?â
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. âS- shit- you sure are...â
Your lidded eyes graze across his features, and they catch on the new scar adorning his cheek. They remain there even after heâs released your finger, and as you allow that hand to fall to your lap, you reach out to him with the other. He doesnât pull away when you cup his cheek, but he does comment after a quick breath to collect himself. âLike I said earlier⌠âs just a scratch.â
You gently brush over the raised line with your thumb, a pout turning your lips down. âScratches donât leave scarsâŚâ
He cups a hand over yours, blinking slowly. âIâm okay, truly.â Tongue poking out from between his wet lips again, he smiles. âFeeling better than okay right now, thanks to you.â
You look from his scar, to his eyes, and back to his scar a few times as an urge blooms within you. Itâs 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 werenât 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.
âŚMaybe itâs 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 donât dismiss it as youâve done in the past.
âMatthew?â
âHmm?â
âDo you ever think about kissing me?â
His eyes blink open.
âI⌠do kiss you?â
You smile at the innocent confusion.
âNot⌠not like I just did. Not on my cheek, or my forehead, or my handâŚâ
Your thumb brushes past the corner of his mouth.
âOn my lips.â
His eyes widen.
ââŚOh.â
You didnât think his face could grow much warmer, but it does.
âI⌠wellâŚâ He seems reluctant to answer, and you wonder whatâs holding him back.
âItâs okay if you donât, love. I just⌠wonder, sometimes.â
He closes his eyes for a moment, seeming to come to a quiet conclusion. ââŚI do, though.â His words suddenly have a desperate edge to them. âI have, and I do. But⌠I feel like I shouldnât.â
Your head tilts to the side. âShouldnât think about it?â
âN-â He falters. ââŚYes⌠thatâs⌠part of it. I do feel like I shouldnât sometimes. I donât ever want to push that sort of affection on you. I- Iâd be okay if we never⌠went there. Honestly. Just⌠having you- the honor of calling you mine. Thatâs more than enough for me.â
Your eyes threaten to water from the effort of containing your emotions. âThat means a lot to me, you know? That you donât want to push me. But⌠Iâd like to put that inner conflict of yours at ease. Because I think about it too.â
âYou do?â Thereâs genuine disbelief in his voice.
You nod. âI sure do. Ha⌠honestly, I fear itâs a bit⌠obvious, sometimes.â
He shrugs, shaking his head slowly. âI mean⌠I never want to assume. Iâm not always the best at reading peopleâŚâ
âWell, what if I make it clear, hm?â You lock in on his gaze. âI want to kiss you too, Matthew.â
Flustered by the direct confession, he trips over his words. âI- ahaha- well, wow. Uhm- I mean, you seeâŚâ
Your voice is soft. âWhat is it, love?â
âIâmâŚâ He closes his eyes. âAfraid.â
You first try the lighthearted method of easing his fears. âI promise I wonât biteâŚâ
In spite of his apparent inner conflict, he laughs. âNot, uh, not of that⌠but thank you. Itâs, ehâŚâ
âYou can be candid with me, honey.â
He takes a deep breath. âI donât want to⌠get you sick.â
You blink. âDo you⌠feel a cold coming on, orâŚ?â
You move your hand up to feel his forehead, but right now heâs flushed all over, so⌠oh. Oh, maybe youâve been misinterpreting that.
Mirroring your earlier exchange, he pulls your hand down with a small smile. âNo⌠not that kind of sick. I meanâŚâ He toys with your fingers as he finds his words. âSometimes I feel like thereâs something inside me. Something dangerous. Something bad. Iâm afraid of passing it to you.â
You glance at your wrist, and its slowly growing collection of black lines. âHoney⌠I think that whatever lives within you is already in me too.â You tap a few times on your chest, right over both of your hearts. âYou know?â
âYeah⌠I do.â His gaze lingers on your chest, but you can sense that itâs innocent. Honestly, itâs almost like heâs looking more through you than at you. From his next words, you can tell that his mindâs a little far away. âStill, though⌠I fear that thereâs more. Something worse. Something that wouldnât serve you. I⌠I donât know what it is.â
You mull his words over, and come to a rational conclusion. Well. As rational as youâre 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 doesnât take much more than that to bring him back into the here and now with you. âEven so. Iâm not scared. I wouldnât be here with you today if I was afraid of taking risks.â
His lips part slightly as you pause, but he doesnât interrupt you.
âIf you really donât want to, I will not pressure you. I wonât bring this up again unless you do. But regardless- I need you to know this, Matthew.â
For once, heâs the one holding his breath.
âI donât care if youâre sick. I donât care if itâs contagious. Hell, Iâd kiss you even if you were dead.â
His tongue darts out to wet his lips again. A subconscious thing, you figure.
Satisfied that youâve made your stance clear, you move to release your gentle hold on his chin.
His hand flies up to stop you.
âPlease.â
You freeze.
âPlease⌠what?â
His tone is full of quiet desperation.
âKiss me. Please. I want it too, I do, I do.â
Your breath grows shallow.
âYouâre sure?â
âYes.â
You allow your hand to slide until itâs 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.
Itâs desperate and clumsy, trembling breaths and shaky hands. Your uneven positioning doesnât lend itself well to the action, and your shared inexperience makes itself quietly known.
But itâs passionate, itâs intimate, vulnerable, and honest.
Itâs far from perfect. Itâs 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 youâre calm enough to speak, you pull back, squeezing his hands in yours. âYouâre so warmâŚâ
He laces his fingers between yours. âYouâre so softâŚâ
He shifts in his half-kneeling stance at the bed beside you, and it suddenly hits you. âGods, how long have I kept you like this?â
The sudden question pulls him halfway out of his post-kiss daze. âLike what?â
You laugh, embarrassed. âOn the floor in front of me! Iâve been so caught up in⌠in- in you, I didnât even think about it, IâŚâ
He shakes his head, tone completely unbothered. âItâs alright, doll! Really, itâsâŚâ He stares up at you for a moment, and exhales. âItâs far from a bad position to be in.â
You scoff, shaking your head. âEven so, you canât be comfortable. Câmon, weâre getting you back in this bed with me properly.â
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 âOw!â When he pulls his hand back, youâre mortified to see the pin heâd used on you earlier sticking out of his palm.
âOh, fuck- Matt- here- let me see.â You reach for his wrist, and he lets you take it.
You sigh in relief once you hold it in the light. Itâs not buried to the hilt, just about halfway. It hasnât pierced through his hand completely, but the sight still makes you cringe. Guilt is quick to wash over you. âMatt, Iâm so sorry, this is my fault.â
You hear the smile in his voice before you see it. âItâs okay, poppet. It hardly even hurt, just took me by surprise more than anything.â
You throw him a skeptical look, and he doubles down. âHonest! And anyways, itâs not your fault that I left it lying on the bed.â
You frown. âI distracted youâŚâ
He shrugs. âIâd say it was well worth it, given the type of distraction.â
Shaking your head, you cradle his hand in yours. âIâm still sorry.â Looking at him with worried eyes, you make an offer. âI can take it out, if you want me to. Or- or you can! I mean- whatever youâre comfortable withâŚâ
He nods, his smile soft. âYou can do it, doll. You wonât hurt me.â
The confidence- (or is it trust?)- in his words surprises you. It shouldnât, you suppose, given that this is nothing compared to the whole heart-transplant-thing. He wasnât quite conscious for that, thoughâŚ
Still, you donât take the job lightly. Carefully steadying his hand, you reach to grasp the end of the pin. âDo you want me to count?â
He mirrors your words from earlier. âNo, itâs okay. In your own time.â
You hold the pin steady, and pull. Not too fast, not too slow, you try to mirror how he did it for you, and itâs 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. âBad pin, bad.â
Chuckling, he flexes his hand in your hold. âItâs really alright, you know? Iâm not upset.â
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. âThatâs yours, if youâd like.â
You raise an eyebrow, skeptical. ââŚIâve hardly earned it.â
He shakes his head. âItâs not something to be earned. Iâm giving it willingly. Youâre welcome to any part of me⌠whenever you want it.â He catches your downcast gaze. âAlways.â
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, youâre quick to lave your tongue over it in earnest. He watches you closely.
Shutting your eyes, you savor his offering, but itâs quick work nonetheless, his injury healing as fast as yours had.
Once his hand is cleaned, you thank him, feeling fire on your cheeks.
âHmm. I feel like I should be the one thanking you.â He remarks while moving to stand. Surely his knees are killing him, but he voices no complaint. Heâs far more content than youâd 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, youâd 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 heâs working, so it wasnât until the two of you had some genuine alone-time together that youâd been graced with a proper view of it.
Milk-chocolate brown, silky-smooth, and pin-straight. He had the type of hair youâd once envied, seemingly effortless to care for. He never had to do much to make it look nice. But of course, heâd 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 donât 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.
âComfy?â He asks.
âMmmhm.â You hum.
Reaching out for his hand, you pull it toward you. You love his hands, and he knows it. Luckily, heâs never seemed bothered by your penchant for hanging onto them. Quite the opposite, if you were to guess. You arenât oblivious to his possessive nature, after all.
Idly manipulating his fingers, you quietly admire them for the thousandth time. Youâve made yourself quite familiar with every scar, callus, and crease on these strong hands. With one thought as to all that theyâre capable of, it still baffles you how gently he handles you. He always has.
That doesnât mean itâs never hurt. Sometimes pain is necessary. Or, at the very least, itâs 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.
âŚThere may be a few wires crossed in your brain. You laugh to yourself softly.
âWhatâs funny, love?â
You shake your head before resting it on his shoulder. âItâs nothing, really. Iâm just thinking.â
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 couldâve simply been the adrenaline rush of having just finally killed the man.
âŚRegardless. It wasnât lost on you how hard he tried to keep himself composed, diligently removing pin, after pin, after pin.
Thatâs the only part of that awful memory that you donât 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.
âBecause Iâm a feminist.â Heâd 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. Itâs a tiny thing, honestly. Unnoticeable unless youâre looking for it.
You huff, and plant another kiss there anyways.
Matt breathes his laughter into your hair.
âYâknow, Iâd 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.â
Your eyes widen and you lean away to turn and look at him directly. âReally?â
âYeah. I mean- you were so generous with me today⌠it only felt fair.â
âI wasnât expecting⌠you⌠you didnât have to do that.â
His hand comes to life, turning the tables and beginning to gently play with yours.
âOkay⌠okay, Iâll admit.â His thumb taps thoughtfully over the black dots adorning your fingertips. âFairness wasnât the only motivating factor.â
The undercurrent of suggestion in his tone sparks your interest. âOh?â
âMhm.â He thoughtfully hums.
âWell, if you had further plans, I certainly never meant to interrupt.â
He considers it, softly pinching your fingers between his own. âWell. You did seem to imply earlier that you wanted more than one piercing. Iâm still very willing to help.â
At the prospect, you grow a little bold. âWould you be willing to let me return the favor? You shouldnât be doing all the work.â
He smiles, playful. âHavenât had your fill of me yet, hm?â
You reach out to your nightstand, retrieving the pin once more. âI donât think I could ever get enough, love.â
-
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. âSorry, poppet.â
âItâs alright⌠âs just sensitive sometimes.â Youâre willing to move past the moment, but he lingers on it.
âI really never wanted to do that.â
âI know. I⌠it couldâve been a lot worse.â
Pain and regret seeps into his voice.
âIt shouldnât have happened at all. But they⌠didnât give me much choice.â
You recall the hammer he held that night, and how he set it aside instead of turning it on you.
âYou bent the rules as far as you could without breaking them. I know that.â
âI told you how I went back and made them pay in the end, right?â
You nod, but still, you question him, wanting to hear it again.
âThey suffered?â
His left arm tightens around you.
âAbsolutely.â
You relax against him, nodding in approval.
âVery good.â
He holds his own left pinky out for you, and you pierce it slowly.
-
When youâre 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 Mattâs 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. âGetting sloppy with my work⌠shame on me.â
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.
âYouâve still got my blood on your lips.â
Having lost your brain-to-mouth filter several piercings ago, you pose a bold solution.
âHow about you help me clean it off then?â
You hear his heart pick up its pace at the invitation.
âOh, Iâd love to.â
Bringing his lips to meet yours for the second time tonight, you both melt into the kiss. Itâs 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. âSorry, love. Didnât know that would⌠affect you so strongly.â
Your tired eyes flutter open, and you speak between heavy breaths. âDonât be.â You snake your hand around the back of his neck, and pull him down into you once again.
-
When youâve 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.
ââŚDamn.â
ââŚHmm?â His questioning hum reverberates in your ear.
âI never got the rest of the laundry out of the dryer.â
He huffs a laugh, pulling you in close.
âWhatâs so bad about that? The machine turns itself off.â
âYeah, but⌠the laundry will get wrinkledâŚâ
You trail off, and after a moment of thought, you both come to a decision together, voicing it aloud in sync.
âAh, fuck it.â
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.
#Jim㥠ASMR#Malenkee Saga#fanfic#horror#blood play#needle play#blood drinking#my writing#𧡠Matt đ¨#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#gun mention#blood mention#cw sh#implied sa#cw implied sa#cw blood#cw injury#cw body horror#cw needles#i didn't mean for this to get quite so long but. listen.#sometimes you sit down to write a needle play fic and end up spending the first 2k words writing about soup#it's alright we got there in the end. as uh. tame as it may have been#listen it's their first time they're not gonna do a full back piece or smthn#anyways this is the first thing i've written in a few months and i'm pretty content with it. felt like a good warmup#it also feels good to finally have written the sequel that i mentioned wanting to make after writing the first Matt fic last year#this feels like i finally reached the point i was aiming for when writing the first one. it feels like a more comfy/satisfying ending#i don't rlly mind that it took two fics to get there though. dunno if i'll ever write a 3rd it just depends on if inspiration strikes#i had fun revisiting this old blorbo of mine though! he's always there with the rest living in the back of my mind <3
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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 đ" 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!!!!
#original#queerbaiting#dunmeshi#dungeon meshi#falin x marcille#marcille x falin#marcille donato#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi marcille#listen i like marcille but u r right she is basically there to be a wet blanket a LOT of the time and that is a sexist trope#i think the bar is super super low for female characters in adventure anime and the lack of constant ogling maybe makes the female#characters feel better written than they are. i mean falin basically has no personality. she's got an innocent heart but that's nothing.#and i think these conversations are worth having bc no piece of media is perfect and this is how we learn to do better#also like. I've seen media criticisms that make me go 'oh you straight up should reserve commentary bc you#haven't watched the show and you're wrong' or 'i see what you're saying but you are simply incorrect' but like#i don't think I'd tell someone to just NOT watch Hazbin Hotel bc they have a bad take - and certainly not bc they have accurately#pinpointed a real flaw about the show (of which there are more than a few but frankly not what became the biggest subject of Disc Horse)#Angel is actually an amazing character & i think people mistook a criticism on the way abuse is glamourized as actually glamourizing abuse#like his song about abuse is called Poison and he's trapped in an abusive performance contract - bringing to mind Britney Spears#i think it is a wildly triggering and painful scene but i think a lot of people took the pain it gave them to mean it was bad art#but tbh they are still allowed to eat at the table if they so choose!!!#sorry i got sidetracked - as an abuse survivor Angel just matters a lot to me. i have a couple serious criticisms of vivziepop's work but#Angel is very much not one of them#also in regards to the actual subject of this post i think the most audacity of the responses i got was the one that said#that by complaining about queerbaiting I was 'de-incentivizing writers to write any interaction b/t women that could look even a little gay#and I'm just like. good. I hope they stop writing entirely. if the takeaway from 'please don't sell me bread and then serve me crumbs' is#'WELL NOW I JUST WON'T BAKE ANY BREAD PRODUCT' then that person is a bad chef. they should find a different job.#or at least do a whole lot of work on themselves. but either way i wouldn't be too broken up to know i won't be getting any food from them.#'just leave then' is so obviously a gut reaction defense mechanism & it implies media criticism should only be for things you don't like
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For the fanfic ask meme: T, X, and Y:
T: Any fanfic tropes you canât stand?
X: How would you categorize your fanfic reading? Â Are you a voracious reader? Â Do you carefully pick and choose? Â Something in between?
Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something youâve written vs. the popularity of your stories? Â Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories? Â
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 â who can say? which I wrote last year on a whim, and ćč°äžĺ¤| 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!
#asks and answers#I have some meta pertaining to fandom thoughts about how like#'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?'#are like#completely different things really#sometimes those circles overlap but the overlap is much smaller than one thinks when one is looking from the outside you know?
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DAMN my writing masterlist is getting long. how the fuck did that happen
#i always forget how many side pieces and ficlets i've written until i'm trying to scroll to one in particular and see how long the list is#if you'll forgive me for making a shitty hamilton reference. why do i write like i'm running out of time#1.4 million words on ao3 and goodness knows how many more in these little ficlets and things#my writing
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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 â not even in summer months, no matter how used to it they are â but what little heat it has it clings to with great determination. The walls huddle together, trapping the air so that itâs 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 â it feels dead, in contrast. Silent. Branches reach needle-sharp across the blue-black sky, the ground is gleaming white and undisturbed by anyone elseâs 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 Torrâs neck and whips the mud-stained snow into a flurry.
In the city, Torrâs comfortable sleeping almost anywhere â as comfortable as they ever get, anyway. Some of the buildings have great gaps under the porch where the snow canât reach and no-one ever finds them; thereâs places in the nooks of the walls, and sheds built into the side of the house that people donât lock, and Torr knows a few people besides who donât mind him kipping on their floor every now and again, as long as he doesnât ask too often. The outside isnât like that. Thereâs not many places to go. Heâs lurking around Kynesgrove tonight â on his way back from a quick venture out to get some things done that pay better than running errands around the markets â and there arenât many options. The inn, which he canât afford â the mine, which would be warm but is very guarded â the minerâs encampment or someoneâs house, both of which would most likely result in being chased off. Besides, thereâs a performative element to meeting people, especially adults, in strange places, and Torrâs not in the mood to play to strangers. So much of his being is caught up in Windhelmâs grimy alleys, tangled in the hair and fingers of its discarded children; he doesnât know how to be himself away from it all.
But they donât have to, seeing as thereâs the rickety old sawmill on the edge of a stream feeding into the harbour. Itâs not bad, as shelter goes; no walls, so the wind rubs its fingers wraithlike down Torrâs cheeks and tangles them in his hair, but at least thereâs a roof. It looks newly thatched, too, the floorboards free of rot, the water-wheel still chugging creakily along. Thereâs 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. Thereâs 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. Itâs proof that people and the things they make do still exist â if not necessarily here.
It really feels dead, out in the cold, with the leafless trees and the wind that doesnât even whisper. It always does. Itâs a bit discomfiting, which is maybe why Torr doesnât go on out-of-city endeavours as often as perhaps he could; but really, thereâs not work out here enough to make it worth it. Thereâs always problems with bandits on the road, but Torrâs not a good enough fighter for bounty work; thereâs collecting plants and things to sell Nurelion, but thatâs easy enough to do on a day trip. (And, really, itâs more for Torrâs 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 merchantâs cart on the road â almost definitely for something shady, but thatâs not Torrâs business, and it was too much money too easy to turn down. And then â just earlier today, foraging out in the wilderness as best as Torr (a distinctly urban animal) knows how â theyâd come across a giantâs corpse, stiff and white as the snow it lay in. Torrâs 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 theyâve got a sack full of what may as well be gold. (Long as it doesnât start to rot before they can get Nurelion to preserve it, anyway.)
Torrâs going to be rolling in it when they get back to Windhelm. They could use that money for nearly anything â pay off a few things they borrowed, new warm things now that winterâs coming back strong, bedrolls, waterskins. Endless options â which, strangely, is more exciting than it is burdensome.
Itâs all the sort of decision that would ordinarily feel life-or-death urgent but right now feels â not small. Not insignificant, not at all, but distant. A choice to be made at another time, by another person.
(Torrâs whole being belongs to Windhelmâs back streets. Theyâre someone else, away from it all.)
Thatâs the other thing about leaving the city, spending time in the discomfiting slow-paced ghost-world outside. Itâs 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.
Heâs been called a worrywart (mostly by Griss in a strop) but to tell the truth he doesnât think thatâs true. Torr doesnât fuss for the sake of fussing, he just doesnât like to leave things undone; canât stop until he finds a solution. Out here, alone, in the empty cold, there are no solutions to find â same old problems back home, he knows, but no steps he can take at this time to right them. Thatâs never true while heâs 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 â that really should have been done by now â that should never have been left undone this long, what was he thinking? Everything is urgent when itâs doable. But here and now, thereâs 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 â havenât eaten since an apple this morning, except for some snowberries they found around noon, and itâs been a long day. They nabbed some turnips from the garden of the Kynesgrove inn on their way to the mill. Theyâre fresh, if nothing else â 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 â they almost drop the turnip theyâre 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 theyâre 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 Torrâs 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 campâs 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 â a silent observer, an echo, a beginning â until morning.
#I considered doing something with post-questline torr for this#but it would have been so fucking sad#and I didn't want to write something that was so fucking sad!#I'll post about torr after the horrors eventually but Not Today.#this was also initially supposed to be an exercise in writing something short that focused more on a distinctive atmosphere#than a scene or character study as most of my pieces are.#oops.#snowballed into an absolute monster of a ramble.#maybe sometime I'll use these prompts to write Actually Short pieces with more of a focus on the worldbuilding aspect...#would be good practice. everything I've written lately has been a thousand words minimum.#I could write about my minor characters or npcs with it too... yeah I think I'll do that at some stage#but. anyway. I quite like this piece as a sort of study#I fucking love writing characters who are having a nice time. with just a hint. just a whisper. of the problems#I enjoyed putting in the reference to the alchemical giant's toes especially because that is an allusion no-one but me understands#to a line in one of my very bad very early pieces on torr#it's not well written but I loved that bit because it's such a wonderful microcosm of the way torr is even before the murder cult thing#Yes he's the busiest most hardworking caretaking boy in the world taking trips into the wilderness (comparatively) to feed his family#and Yes his first instinct on seeing a corpse is to cut it up and sell it for parts#(he's done this to human bodies too but only in extremely specific circumstances. the risk of legal repercussions is too great otherwise)#I'll make a post rambling sometime about torr's ethical system because I'm so obsessed with them and their unhinged point of view#Anyway#done rambling#my writing#fay writes#oc tag#torr#the elder srolls#tes#skyrim#tesblr
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Time for a vibe check
*sniff* *sniff* *sniff*
I detect that you have
Good vibes :3
!Ů
عسŰ
#Being more unapologetically Persian smdkndjdmd#(I said thanks >:3)#(Also just trying to use more Farsi online since online and in public I always kinda just. Never used Farsi until recently)#(I think I just felt like people wouldn't understand me if I used anything that wasn't English-)#(And like I do consider English my mother tongue I literally live in 'Murica born and raised)#(But Farsi has always been a thing in my life even if I've never been good at speaking it)#(And only recently became literate-)#It's basically impossible to type in Farsi on tumblr without forethought though because punctuation doesn't function#Yeah tumblr is shztty and just. Doesn't let periods or exclamation points go to the right part of the sentence. It's annoying.#Farsi is written right to left btw but like question marks work correctly and it can bother to get Words to work right#I don't get why two other vital pieces of punctuation are so difficult-#Sorry I needed to rant skekekjej#I have to place the exclamation point down FIRST and THEN write the word
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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 elseâprimarily 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 upâlike 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 wholeheartedlyâyou 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 Aegonâs blood coats her lips and itâs as if she also partook on the ceremony. Your heart beats intensely inside your chest but youâre 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 donât 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!
#fanfiction#aegon x reader#aegon x helaena#aegon targaryen fanfiction#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen fanfic#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x you#aegon x reader x helaena#helaena targaryen x reader#helaena x reader#helaena the dreamer#helaena targaryen#helaena x reader x aegon#hotd helaena#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon season 2#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd season 2
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Ýâ âš . ÝË .â˝ fae trap âž. Ýâ âš . ÝË
{ 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.Â
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.Â
That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there.Â
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.Â
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!Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out.Â
Nothing.
You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
But it was.Â
You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on.Â
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.Â
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.Â
Though you weren't so sure you would run.Â
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.Â
The mushrooms.Â
That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears.Â
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.Â
'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.'Â you whispered quietly.Â
His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes.Â
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.Â
He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground.Â
You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth.Â
"Who are you?" You ask curiously.Â
"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.Â
"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm."Â
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.Â
You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues.Â
"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures.Â
"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."Â
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.Â
"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.Â
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.Â
Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening.Â
"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."Â
"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.Â
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.Â
"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children."Â
French? This being was a riddle.Â
"I don't understand." You force out.Â
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."Â
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.Â
"The truth?" You ask.Â
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.Â
He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing."Â
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.Â
His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again.Â
"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.Â
"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble.Â
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.Â
He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access.Â
"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more."Â
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.Â
His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch.Â
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.Â
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.Â
He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it.Â
"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this."Â
He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you.Â
"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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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."Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly.Â
"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile.Â
There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
You were crying, you realized.Â
"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?"Â
"Yes!" You sob.Â
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.Â
"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.Â
"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?"Â
You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you.Â
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.Â
"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.Â
It was becoming overwhelming.Â
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.Â
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.Â
He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard.Â
His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet."Â
You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements.Â
"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"
"Yes." You breathed.
"I can fix that."Â
You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements.Â
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.Â
Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away.Â
He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core.Â
"So pretty, even here darling."Â
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.Â
"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove."Â
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.Â
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.Â
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. Â
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.Â
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.Â
You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips.Â
"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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
"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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to.Â
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. Â
Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest.Â
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.Â
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.Â
"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches.Â
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.Â
"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up.Â
He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink.Â
You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were.Â
"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more."Â
"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?"Â
"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles."Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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."Â
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."Â
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?Â
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.Â
You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent.Â
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.Â
"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.Â
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.Â
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."Â
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.Â
"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.Â
"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.Â
"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-"Â
"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.Â
"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech.Â
"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."Â
"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.Â
"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."Â
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.Â
Craved it.Â
You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent.Â
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.Â
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?"Â
"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.Â
"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all.Â
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.Â
So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck.Â
"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is."Â
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.
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Chapter three of Save the Cat is about figuring out who your "hero" is. This is the money quote:
Tell me a story about a guy who ... I can identify with. I can learn from. I have compelling reason to follow. I believe deserves to win and ... Has stakes that are primal and ring true to me.
And of course this is fine for mass market stuff, which is good given the book is written with mass market movie-goers in mind. But I'm (as Blake Snyder says) a bullheaded writer, and I don't want to write a story like that, or not all the time.
I want a hero who is grappling with purpose, who is facing existential dread, who worries about his legacy or what his life will end up meaning, who cares about the nature of personhood and reality. I want a guy whose stakes are "oh god, is this all predestined" or "are clones people" or "what does it ethically mean to steer a culture". I don't want this all the time, but I do want it a lot of the time. And according to Blake Snyder, this is the sort of story that you can practically hear audiences and producers walking away from.
My next web serial will be Doomsday Pivot!, and the logline is in flux, because the first book is written but unedited, and there's still time to make changes. The short version is, the world has broken apart and everyone gets to choose a character class, so a small startup pivots to becoming their city's first expeditionary force. Something like that, anyway. The stakes are survival, which is primal enough by Blake Snyder's metrics, but that leaves the question of who the protagonist is.
It's not what's in the book, but my sense is that you can give a few of the directives from the money quote a miss and still be fine, and your main character doesn't need to be a complete prototype of the main demographic (or who that demographic sees themselves in, or wants to be).
But it does leave me thinking about my protagonist, and how he's framed, and how to frontload what the audience wants so I can earn some slack later on. There's a particular bit about age there, how going younger is usually the right call, and some of this is outdated market advice given that the book was written in 2005, but I'm approaching 40, and I think I do tend to think of characters as being my same age just by default. My market is a lot different from Snyder's market, mostly in the sense that it skews much younger, mostly teenagers, even if the median patron is older.
So I am left asking myself some questions, which I think is good, and one of the reasons I'm reading this book. Should my protagonist be 34? Or 26? What's the one single adjective that I would use to describe him? What's the one single adjective I would use to describe the antagonists? Snyder suggests that being a slave to the logline is a good thing, and makes for a better story, and I have my own thoughts on that, but one of the pieces of advice that I've been giving in the last few years is "find a singular guiding star for your story and make sure that you don't point yourself too far away from it". I suppose that guiding star could be a logline, though I have my own disagreements with the "logline first" practice.
There are also some parts I found interesting if irrelevant to me about writing with casting in mind, and making sure it's a part that many people can play, but I think it's industry insider stuff that won't become relevant unless I spontaneously decide to start writing scripts with intent to sell, which seems unlikely.
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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 đ 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.
#becoming that girl#girlblogger#girlblogging#it girl#lifeblr#self improvement#that girl#productivity#productive#studying#student#productivitytips#self discipline#get things done
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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!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âSoâŚâ
âSoâŚâ
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 doesnât 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 Soominâs, is flawless 99% of the time, and you think youâve 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.Â
Thereâs definitely the beginnings of a bruise on the side of his neck.
Heâs a bit of a jock, sure. Youâve watched him play baseball, but you donât 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 itâs history) or adventure in sneaking into a college party. Now youâre all at university, so any sneaking is unnecessary (and really not fun at all).Â
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.Â
You both jump at the sound of someone in the living room, stumbling over something. The cursing that follows lets you know that itâs Changbin.Â
âSeungmin,â he calls through the closed bedroom door. âYouâll have to clean up since it was your party.â Then the footsteps fade out down the hall.Â
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 eveningâs plans, but she was sick tonight.
âGo. Support my stupid brother because, and Iâll kill you if you tell him, getting an article published in The Scientific Journal for Undergraduate Research is a big deal. And Iâm proud of him.â
So you do. You eat, drink, be very merry; even congratulate Seungmin with actual sincerity even though youâre sure he knows heâs that smart and probably believes itâs his due.
You may have had a few drinks, but you arenât drunk by any means. College has definitely upped your tolerance level, so when Seungmin admits to you that he doesnât think itâs that good of an article and that now his professors want him to be their TA and go to graduate school here and heâs not even sure he likes research that much, you put your hand on his arm, give it a squeeze and tell him that itâll be okay. He can do anything he wants and youâll always be impressed with him.Â
(âYou mean that?â he asks and you shrug, recognizing that the alcohol may have lowered your normal inhibitions.
âOf course. Itâs annoying actually, how good you are at everything."
He covers your hand thatâs still on his arm. âYou think Iâm good at everything?â
You roll your eyes, a little flustered at his singular attention and the warmth of his skin on yours. âI mean, I can hypothesize,â He smirks at your pedestrian use of scientific terminology. âI certainly donât know all your skills.â
You both stare at each other, the unintended subtext taking effect.
âYou could. If you wanted to.â)
And thatâs how you end up where you are currently.
In bed with your best friendâs brother.Â
âI shouldâŚ.â You finally look away from his still pink face, eyes dropping to that mark on his neck, courtesy of your greedy mouth. âI should go.â 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 itâs definitely not your shirt. âOh.â
âYou can wear it.â His voice reminds you of woodworking, when you sand and sand a piece of wood until itâs smooth. His words and tone usually are so sharp, but in the quiet of his bedroom, it sounds soft.Â
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.
âPretty sure your sister would recognize if I came home in your clothes.â Your voice is not soft and smooth at all. Itâs ragged like broken glass. You canât claim any innocence in this; you had been in your right mind, and you had wanted it.Â
You had wanted Seungmin.
(Stumbling into his bedroom, his mouth and hands feel like theyâre 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. Heâs still sitting in his bed, sheets covering his lower half. Heâs 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.
âTicklish?â you ask the obvious.Â
âNo.â A lie. He drags your hand down to the button and zipper of his jeans. âJust want your hand somewhere else.â
You canât really argue.)
âIâŚâ he seems at a loss for words. Another first as far as youâre concerned. âYou arenât going to tell her?â
âGod no.â You move to his desk and grab your thin cardigan, jerking it on. You can feel his gaze on you. It shouldnât still affect you, the post-sex regrets should overwhelm any desire.
âBut you two tell each other everything.â
âThis wouldâŚâ 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 wasnât enough.Â
âThis would what?â
Heâs standing a few feet away from you and your brain is telling you to leave, to grab your purse thatâs somewhere by the front door, and go back to campus because thatâs what you do with a one-night stand. But you canât move.Â
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.
(âYou have to tell me, you know,â he says through shortened breaths. âI canât read your mind.âÂ
âI thought you were good at everything?â 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. âGuess you donât have to say anything.â His kiss is far more gentle than the onslaught he's wreaking on your libido.)
âThis wouldâŚI think her brain would explode, honestly. And I would prefer to keep her intact. I canât break in a new best friend.â
He regards you thoughtfully. This is familiar. This assessing of his. You assumed he always found you wanting, but after what just happened, you arenât so sure.
âLet me drive you back.â
Heâs so hard to read. Except when heâsâŚ
You are never going to banish those visual memories. Deep down, you admit you wouldnât want to.Â
âItâs not far.â
He sighs as he puts on his pants and says your name. âIâm not letting you walk back. Itâs after two am.â
âFuck, it is?âÂ
He sits back on the bed, slipping on his socks. âYeah.â
âI can call aââ
âIâm driving you back.â
You bristle. âLook, just because we fucked doesnât mean I start listening to you.â
âBut you did,â he says easily, walking back to where you stand, now just a foot away. âDidnât you?â
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.Â
âWell, whoâs actually themselves when fucking?â
He doesnât say anything for a second or two. âI am.â He heads toward the door. âCome on.â
You donât want to spend money on an Uber, or walk back in the frigid cold, but you also donât want to give in to him.Â
(âRelax, pretty,â he murmurs.Â
âI am.âÂ
He smiles warmly, eyes dark before he presses a soft kiss to your nose. âStubborn, but I like that about you.â)
But you do.
Seungmin drives a beat-up Hyundai hybrid that you know almost as well as Soominâs 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. Itâs a hoodie.Â
âI'm wearing a jacket.â
âTo cover your legs. Those jeans arenât warm.â
âHow would youââ Oh right, heâd slid his hands up them to unbutton and unzip. You close your eyes tight when you think about how heâd pulled them down, letting his mouth drag along your bare legs.Â
Seungmin liked using his teeth. You wonât forget that. Ever.
You set the hoodie on your lap so he canât see how you squeeze your legs together.Â
âSeatbelt.â
âOh for fuckâs sake.â 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. âI can do it myself.â You wrinkle your nose at the petulance in your voice.
He lifts his eyes to you, not moving back into the driver's seat. Heâs so close, that mouth of his inches away. You could kiss him and you want to, but you donât.Â
He settles back into his seat and puts the car into reverse. He doesnât 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 arenât going to say anything because sex isnât that big a deal. Even if itâs with Seungmin, your âride or dieâ best friendâs twin brother who youâve always thought was cute, certainly handsome, stupid smart, and maybe a little wicked.Â
His smirk is a case-study in attractive villain-smirking.
Itâs no more than ten minutes to get on campus and to your dormitory. But the silence feels like the length of a directorâs cut of a movie; interminable.Â
He pulls up to the curb and puts the car into park, before resting his arm on the back of the passenger seat. He doesnât say anything.
âThanks for the rideâthe ride home.â 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.Â
He takes it and tosses it in the back before meeting your gaze.
âYouâre welcome.â
You swallow, his current tone too close to his bedroom voice.Â
âAnd congrats again. Really.âÂ
âThank you. Really.â
The repetition feels like mockery, and you glare at him instinctively.Â
âYeah, well, donât forget us when youâre taking the science world by stormâŚhowever one even does thatââ
His mouth is on yours and youâre 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.Â
âI wouldnât forget you,â he murmurs against your lips. Another kiss, this one sweeter before he draws back. âGive me some warning if you tell Soomin, okay?â
âWhy would I tell her?â
You see the movement of his throat as he swallows. âYou might. Because Iâm gonna ask you out in the next 24 hours and itâll be easier to explain why you say yes if she knows.â
It takes several moments for your brain to process all that information and heâs kissing you again which halts any understanding your brain hoped to find. You donât realize that your arms are around his neck, fingers in his hair, until he pulls back.Â
âSoâŚyouâre gonna say yes?âÂ
You open your eyes to see that he still looks like Seungmin: a ruffled, flushed Seungmin, his eyes more vulnerable than youâve ever seen.Â
âIâŚâ
He starts to let go of you, but your hold on him tightens.Â
âMaybe make it 48 hours so she can try and wrap her mind around the fact that her bff is into her brother.â
His answering smile is so bright that you kiss him again, and it takes another five minutes before you get out of the car.
~~~Â
Soomin doesnât combust like you expect. In fact, she raises her eyebrow and scarily looks as smug as her brother when she says:Â
âAbout damn time.âÂ
-----------------------------
(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.
#skz smut#seungmin smut#stray kids smut#seungmin x reader#straykidsland#seungmin x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#seungmin x you#stray kids fluff#seungmin fluff#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#seungmin fanfic#seungmin drabbles#kpop smut#kpop imagines#stray kids scenarios#fic: congratulations#my writing
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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 futureâto 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 themâand 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 itâeverything 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 enoughânot 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.
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â GET BACK!â Leo gripped his katanas tightly, backing into the corner. The lumbering, spiky creature before him grimaced, holding his claws out like Leo was some sort of spoiler animal.Â
â Leo, hey, what's goin' on, buddy?â The creature asked, voice softer than expected. It made Leo hesitant, if only for a second.Â
But it must have been a ploy. A trick to trap him and-and do god knows what!Â
â I'M NOT YOUR BUDDY,â Leo hissed, keeping his eyes open for any movement from the hulking creature. If there was an opening, he'd have to take it, otherwise he'd have to portal away. It didn't feel right to leave this creature in his room, though, so that would be a last resort, âTELL ME WHO- WHAT YOU ARE! NOW!âÂ
The creature blinked in mock surprise and took a step back. Good. Maybe Leo could stun it and then go out the back way to his room. It wasn't a great plan, but it was all he had right now. Hell, maybe he could scare the thing all the way out the door and fight it in the lobby. Sure, it was a lot bigger than him, but he had two swords and it has nothing.Â
âWh- it's me! It's Raph!â The creature raised its voice a little, then immediately softened it again, âitâs- you're safe, Leo, its just me. You're in the lair. We're all safeâŚâ
It was holding its hands out again and took two steps forward. Leo backed further into the corner and cursed under his breath. This was the opposite of what he wanted.Â
âHOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!? WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM!?â He bit out, cycling through several more half-baked plans where he didn't have to portal and didn't mess up his room. He didn't want to leave this guy here to mess it up either if he could.Â
â We're- we're brothers, remember? We explained it yesterdayâŚ. You were cursed by a witch and-â
Leo scoffed, â that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! You've got 3 seconds to leave before I cut you to pieces!â
Heâd always been more of a playful banter guy than a âthreaten to literally kill youâ guy, but this was dire. There was literally a random, dangerous looking creature-guy in his home. He wasn't gonna rake any chances to be funny, not right now.Â
âOkay, okay. Let's just calm down, LeoâŚ.I really need you to take a deep breath and-and uhâŚname five things you see?â the guy - Raph, he'd said - was speaking even quieter, and getting even closer.Â
He took another step forward and Leo couldn't think- there was nowhere to run, he was trapped.Â
The creature reached forward slowly, mimicking slow breathing and Leo lashed out with his sword, barely nicking the guyâs arm with it. He either had tough scales or Leo was still too far to do any damage.Â
He hissed in pain, and Leo saw a bit of red there, but he couldn't wait to find out if he'd finally pissed this guy off.Â
He cut a portal beneath him and fell into it, heartbeat pounding his ears and electricity thrumming through his body. He heard a cut off â LEO, WAIT-â before the portal closed and all he heard was the sounds if the city below him.Â
 When he landed he was on a rooftop, somewhere far from his room and far from the creature. The sun was peeking above the horizon, a sudden chill making him shiver. Of course he couldn't have thought to put on a hoodie. Then again, he had been unexpectedly ambushed.Â
At least he'd gotten away without a scrape.Â
And not a moment too soon, because for a split second he'd seen two more guys in his doorway, each with shocked and then angry expressions. If he'd stayed even a second he'd be a goner, he just knew it.Â
For now, he was safe. Now to think of a plan.Â
----
Here's a blurb of that idea! I've written a chapter outline but writing has been hard lately, so I'm just gonna keep it in my docs for now. It might become a fic and it might become a comic, who knows. For now thus is what I've got. I just really wanted to write this bit :)
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
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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!
#pro mace windu#mace windu my beloved#i love him i love him so much#thank you for giving me a chance to ramble on about exactly how much!!#pro jedi#pro jedi order#mace windu only made one wrong decision in his life and that was trusting anakin#and even then he was only wrong because anakin let him down!#anakin was not worthy of the trust mace placed in him!!#and that's not mace's failing#it's anakin's
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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 studentâs 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. Thatâs 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 friendâs offer.Â
Sohee explained that only a few people were working around and they were all her boyfriendâs, 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 â who didnât seem to be working here since he most likely didnât 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 Soheeâs 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 wouldnât melt in the car seat. You grabbed your phone and pasted the mechanic shop address in the GPS app. It wasnât too far from your house, which you were grateful for since it meant you didnât 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 shouldâve 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 wasnât 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 wasnât 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.
âUm Iâm here to talk with Heeseung, Iâm friends with his girlfriend and she told me heâs looking for one more person to work here so-â you were cut off as the man walked away and shouted, âHeeseung hyung, thereâs someone for you!â a faint coming could be heard in the distance as another figure started approaching the door. Said Heeseung appears in front of you. âSo you must be the y/n Soheeâs always talking about?â 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 didnât notice how sweaty it was from your nerves. âAh yeah, thatâs me! Iâm assuming she told you how I wanted the job, right?â âOh 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?â Shit, smile and nod y/n. You quickly nodded at his words, hoping he wouldnât ask if you knew how to do complex things. âI just need to know what kind of things you can fix or have done.â âOh! I have done quite a few things, Iâve changed oils, fixed engine chains, changed batteries, changed tires and other small fixes.â 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. âSeems like youâre our newest employee, welcome!â you let out a breath of relief and shook his hand again. âOh my god, thank you so much! I promise I'll try my best.â you said firmly as you offered him a smile. âNo need to thank me. We really need one or two more employees so youâre big help right now. Anyways, you can start maybe tomorrow at 9 am?â âOh sure, I can, see you tomorrow then!â 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 wouldnât embarrass yourself in front of the rest of the boys and could get along with them. Now, it wasnât 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 werenât as close with anyone as you were with Sohee. She has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Sheâs 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 wouldnât enjoy your teenage years as much as you did, hell, if it wasnât for her you wouldnât 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 carâs clock indicated that it was 8:50, making you relieved that you werenât 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 hasnât noticed your presence yet from his crouched position, cleaning up some tools and putting them in a separate box.Â
âGood morning, Hee!â you greeted, startling him. He got up and turned to face you with a surprised expression. âOh hey, y/n! Wasnât expecting you to be this early, though.â He said, chuckling as he wiped his hands with a cloth. âWell, you know, didnât wanna be too late on my first day of work, I guess,â you said, swinging yourself back and forth, avoiding his gaze, feeling kinda awkward with yourself for worrying so much about being on time. âUsually the other boys come super late since they come all together so you shouldnât worry about being on time here. Also, weâre supposed to be all friends here, so donât put too much pressure on yourself about working here, itâs all chill here!â Heeseung said, trying to reassure and comfort you. âI guess itâs just a matter of time for me to get used to it.â you clapped your hands behind your back as you finished talking. âAnyways, should I start working?â you suggested. âOh, yeah. Actually, thereâs a car that needs an oil change, so maybe you could start by doing that.â Heeseung said, pointing to a red car that was already up in the hydraulic lift. âSure thing!â
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 wasnât seen as a good thing for some people. Some would tell you girls shouldnât 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 dadâs 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 didnât 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 wouldnât 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 Heeseungâs 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.
âGood morning, y/n! You know itâs weird seeing someone whoâs not Heeseung working here this early.â Jungwon said as he walked towards you, chuckling to himself. Stopping what you were doing, you turned all your attention to him. âGuess someone needed to give him some company, no?â you said putting your hands on your hips. âKeep going like that and he might give you the âemployee of the monthâ title,â he said, making you laugh at him. âAnyways, what are you doing?â he asked, nodding at the car above you on the lift. âOh, changing some oil, was about to put a new filter on.â you said as you pointed at the carâs oil pan, âShouldnât you get to work as well?â you asked, raising an eyebrow at him, making him scowl at you. âDonât remind me, Heeseung gave me a shit ton of cars to clean, got work for a whole week,â 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.
âI mean, I guess Iâm 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.â you explained as you ate some of your tuna-mayo wrap you brought from home, they all hummed in agreement. âWhat are you majoring in, though?â Sunghoon asked you as he looked up from his lunchbox. âOh, I study computer science!â âOh really? Then you must know Jake? Jake Sim? He shares a few classes with comp sci studentsâ Heeseung asked, surprised to know you were in the same major as his best friend. You hummed in thought as the name sounded familiar. âIt does ring a bell but Iâm not really adding a face to the name though.â You said slightly tilting your head to the side as you tried your best to remember who the hell was Jake Sim. âYeah, letâs just say his attendance isnât exactly the highestâŚâ Heeseung said as he hissed quietly. âOh⌠yeah that must explain why I donât remember him then.â You said chuckling. âDonât misunderstand it. Itâs not like he doesnât care about classes, I mean he kinda doesnât, but he is much more focused on football.â Heeseung paused as if he was in deep thought. âJake knows if anything school-related goes wrong for him he can just take over his dadâs business, which most likely will happen.â You hummed, understanding what he meant. Â
It wasnât 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 countryâs most famous districts. Jake obviously was following his fatherâs steps, deciding to follow the computer science field so one day he could take over his fatherâs 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 fatherâs 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 werenât for people like them who only cared about status and money. Thatâs 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.Â
âHey, y/n!â You looked back to see Sunghoon, who called you, and the rest of the guys looking at you. âCome out for dinner with us, weâre going to the barbeque place downtown.â âUm, I donât know guys, itâs gonna get late and we have work again tomorrowâŚâ You said, scratching the back of your neck, suddenly feeling shy, not being used to going out with people you barely knew. âOh come on, to celebrate your first day being one of us! Itâs on Heeseung tonight!â 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. âYeah, y/n, donât even worry about coming late tomorrow.â 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 âOk, fine! But Iâm not paying!â You said raising your hands. The boys cheered dramatically, making you roll your eyes but laugh nonetheless. âAnyways, Iâm going home to get ready, just text me later with the address.â 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. âHey, dear. How was your first day at work?â she asked you, grabbing your jacket and putting it into the coat hanger at your entrance. âOh, it actually went really well. Wasnât expecting to work as much as I did, but Iâm proud that I could do that much.â âAh, you must be so tired, honey! Was the lunch I made enough? Oh, maybe I shouldâve-â âMom,â you said laughing âIt was more than enough, donât worry about it, ok?â you reassured her, rubbing her arms that rested on her side as she looked tense. âAnyways, they all invited me to dinner so Iâm gonna shower and get ready.â 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 youâve 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 couldnât 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 werenât 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. âI donât even know if itâs safe to say good morning.â 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.Â
âRemind me to never do this again, please.â 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 âLetâs get to work. These cars arenât gonna fix themselves.â Everyone groaned at the older manâs words, some complaining, saying it would be fair to take a day one, only receiving Heeseungâs glare in return. âAnyways, y/n, I know you just got here, but I really need you to do me a favour,â Heeseung said, turning to you. You stared at him through your glasses in response âPretty please?â He said lacing his hands together, making you sigh and roll your eyes. âOh my god, fine! What is it then?â You said putting your hand on your hip with a sigh. âI 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.â You said nothing in return aside from an Iâll 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. âIf it wasnât for Heeseung and his stupid parcelâŚâ 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 werenât so heavy you would be running in his direction. âI swear to God, Heeseung, if you ever, but ever make me go through all this traffic again, man, I swear on my life I wonât-â You stopped in your tracks when you saw what was in front of you. âOh my good God, what in the good earth, I- oh my goodness.â you dropped the parcel on the floor as you approached Sunghoon who was near the entrance. âHoon, please tell me Iâm not seeing things and my eyes arenât deceiving me.â You exclaimed, your eyes never moving away from the car in front of you. Sunghoon swore he never saw your eyes shining so brightly âHoon, is this a freaking Ford Mustang from â69?â you said in a high-pitched voice as your hands made their way to your face, cupping your cheeks. It wasnât until you heard a deep chuckle that you noticed a figure next to Sunghoon. You looked in the personâs 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 couldnât grasp any memory with his face on it.
âYou like it?â 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 didnât even dare to try and speak, fearing your voice would fail you. He chuckled at you, finding amusement in your shy behaviour. âYou wanna touch it?â 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. âOk, thatâs enough for you two, geez!â he said rolling his eyes, before speaking again âAnyways, you can leave the car here and Heeseung or anyone will take care of it, you already know youâre in good hands here so no need to worry.â âAlright then, just call me when itâs done, yeah?â 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. âKids these days.â Sunghoon said sighing and shaking his head at you, making you frown at him. âShut up!â 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. âHey Hee, got your parcel here. Do you want me to put it somewhere or should I just leave it here?â you said as you approached his figure âOh, you can just leave it in that chair, Iâm gonna need that in a while.â he said getting up as he wiped his forehead with his arm. âBy the way, Jakeâs 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 itâs gonna take me a while, youâre going to be the one fixing it.â Oh! That was definitely interesting and caught your attention. âOh, sure, no problem. It shouldnât take too long.â 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.Â
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 youâve 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 hadnât 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 donât 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 Jakeâs 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.
âSohee, I kid you not, he is so attractive, I canât!â you heard her sigh for the nth time on the phone, feeling her eye roll through the screen. âY/n, Iâve seen him plenty of times, and trust me, I know he is, but be careful, I heard some things about him, though.â âDonât worry about that, itâs just a silly crush. Iâll be over it sooner or later.â Sohee sighed again and you could hear her moving around in her bed sheets. âYeah, whatever. Weâll talk later. Heeseung is calling me.â After talking with Sohee you were left alone with your thoughts as you scrolled on your phone but you werenât really paying any attention to any of the posts, as you were thinking about Soheeâs 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.Â
simjaeyun_: hey :)                          11:37pm            Â
simjaeyun_: ignoring me now mnh?            11:46 pm   Â
youruser: stalking me now huh?               11:47 pm
youruser: didnât 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 pmÂ
youruser: well                              11:48 pm
youruser: definitely the one who makes other people stalk you not the other way around. 11:48 pmÂ
simjaeyun_: maybe you just caught my attention like that ;) 11:48 pm
youruser: oh? did i now? Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 11:49 pm
simjaeyun_: maybe, find it out yourself :)Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 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 wasnât 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.
âGood morning mom!â you greeted her with a smile as you sat in front of her. âGood morning, dear! Did you sleep well?â âOh yeah, I did! I went to sleep earlier to recover from the hangoverâŚâ She sighed at your words as she gave you a warning look, reminding you of her scolding. âIs there a special occasion for you to make me breakfast?â You asked as you took a bite of pancakes. âNot really, canât I be sweet for my daughter once in a while?â She answered and you squinted at her, knowing there was a reason behind it, she wasnât one to do these things just because. âYou came home smilier than usual. Anything special happened at work?â 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. âUm, not really, was just happy.â You said after taking a sip from your coffee and putting the mug down. âAre you sure it was just that?â She propped her elbows on the table with her hands intertwined, looking as if she was questioning you for a crime you did. âYes, mom. Iâm pretty sure.â She hummed, taking a sip from her tea. âIs that why you were squealing with Sohee on the phone last night?â You gasped at her words. âMom! Were you eavesdropping on me?â You asked her shocked that she had heard you talking with Sohee. âOh no, dear. You know Iâm 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?â She stopped, trying to remember âOh! Jake! Yes, Jake. Now, you wanna tell me about that?â You blushed at her words as if you were caught doing something bad or she heard a secret of yours. âMom! No!â You said getting up from your chair, leaving a small bit of pancake on your plate. âIâm leaving. I need to go to work. Bye, love you!â 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.
âGood morning guys!â you greeted as you put your lunch bag down. They both looked back at you, seeming relieved you were finally there. âOh thank God youâre here.â Ni-ki sighed. âYeah, whatâs up?â You asked, intrigued as to what they needed you for. âSo, we were discussing car designs for me to do in the car Heeseung is taking care of, but the problem is that we canât agree on one design.â He started explaining as Heeseunf put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes at the younger male. âSo tell me. in between these which one is better?â He finished, showing pictures of different designs. You hummed in thought as you looked carefully at the pictures and the car behind them. âI think for this car these two thick stripes would fit the best, but thatâs my opinion!â âSee! I told you! You wonât listen to me. Y/n, he wonât agree with me, please help me.â Ni-ki said as he put his hands together in a plea. âSorry, Hee. Gotta agree with him in this one.â Heeseung looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. âDonât fire me?â You said shrugging your shoulders at him. The older man rolled his eyes, sighing as he finally gave in. âFine, but only because it's two against one.â âYeah, sure. Whatever you say hyung.â Ni-ki said leaving the area, you looked at him shrugging at him, âKids these days.â he said under his breath in a mumble.Â
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 Jakeâs 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. Youâve 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 wasnât much of a hassle, it was easy and simple. You opened the carâs 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 manâs 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 carâs interior you went back to work. You started by carefully taking out the mirrorâs 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. âHey there!â you said as you kept doing your work. âEnjoying yourself, huh?â He said with a smug smirk adorning his face, making you roll your eyes. âGo away Sunghoon.â You said but still, you had a smile on your face. âItâs nothing special.â you finished. âYou canât 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-â âShut up!â you said looking at him. âI wasnât, you were seeing things.â Sunghoon laughed at your behaviour. âCâmon, no need to act shy now.â He started âYou know, he texted me yesterday.â âOk? And why should i care?â You said raising a brow at him. âHe was asking me, or better, begging me to give him your Instagram.â You looked away from him as you felt your cheeks heat up. âI donât know why he would do that!â You said, pretending to be interested in those screws. âEh, youâll eventually find out, I guess.â He said making you look back at him. âWhat is that supposed to mean.â You asked suddenly interested in what he had to say. He started walking away, his back turned to you âNothing you should worry your pretty head about.â He answered, making you tilt your head, confused at his words. You sighed as you went back to working on that mirror.
It wasnât 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 didnât notice an extra someone entering the shop until Jay mentioned it.
âJake? What are you doing here man?â That made your ears perk up, but you pretended to still be listening to the gossip you were previously listening to. âYour mirror still isnât fixed, so no luck for you today.â Heeseung said also greeting him with the handshake their group shared. You looked at them at the mention of the mirror, so it wouldnât look as suspicious. âYeah, I figured. Just wanted to join you guys for lunch.â 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. âIs that for us?â He said with his boxy smile. Everyone looked at Jake with hopeful eyes. âWhat? No, itâs mine! And no way in hell Iâm sharing this with you guys.â Jake said in a warning tone. Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes at him âYouâre literally no fun.â 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 Jakeâs 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 hadnât 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 didnât 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 hadnât gone away yet, lingering around the shop, mainly around Heeseung as they talked about things you couldnât 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.
âI see you finally got to touch it, huh?â He said, putting his hands in his pockets. âOh! Yeah, I did.â You answered with an awkward laugh, feeling your palms getting sweaty. âLike what you felt, sweetheart?â Your eyes widen at that, suddenly feeling at a loss for words. You were more than sure if any other man wouldâve said that to you, you wouldâve cringed right away, but not when said man looked like Jake did. âI- well-â Jake started laughing, making you feel somewhat embarrassed. âIâm just playing around. Youâre not that shy through texting.â He said reminding you of how confident you may have sounded through texts. âWell, I guess itâs not the same as talking face-to-face, right?â You stated, looking up at him in the eyes. His mouth opened to say something but closed right away. âYeah, youâre right.â He took a breath in as he straightened his posture. âAnyways, is the mirror any close to being done?â He wondered. âOh yeah, actually I just need to test it and itâs all ready for you to take it home!â You said while smiling at him, proud that you were able to do something new quickly yet carefully. âOh really? You were pretty quick. Canât say Iâm not impressed, though, in a positive way, of course.â You giggled at him. âThanks, Jake. I appreciate that.â 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 Jakeâs 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. âIâm officially done!â 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. âYou can pay me later.â Heeseung said walking away, knowing if he stayed Jake would insist on paying. Jake sighed as he looked at you. âThank you for doing this, by the way.â He said with a smile, making you shrug. âYouâre welcome, Jake. After all, itâs my job.â 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. âIâll see you tomorrow.â With that, he walked towards his car. âTomorrow?â 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. âWill I ever figure him out?â
Jake got home with only one thing, or rather someone, going through his mind. As clichĂŠ as it felt for him, he couldnât 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 didnât 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. âWhat have you done to me?â
The past week was full of work. Everyone barely interacted, focused on getting everyoneâs car fixed since itâs 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 shouldnât feel like that as itâs only natural and what has to happen, will happen. Whatever you were feeling with Jake, is something you never felt with anyone before, as clichĂŠ 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 wasnât 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 didnât wanna hear and less likely answer. âCome on, y/n!â Sunoo said pulling your hands out of your ears, making you roll your eyes. âI donât like him, ok?â You sighed, âI literally met him, like, not even two weeks ago. I donât even know him like that.â ây/n, you know damn well itâs not like that.â Sunghoon said leaning back in his chair. âJust admit you like him!â âLike who?â The three of you looked back to find Jake walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. âNo one, I donât like anyone.â 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.
âBad work day?â He started. âYeah, something like that.â You sighed, playing with a paper cup in front of you. âItâs just the end of the month and most people are on vacation by now so it was expected.â Jake hummed, an idea coming up to him. âSo you have nothing to do, right?â You looked at him wondering why he was asking that. âUh, yeah, I donât.â You answered nodding at him. He got up, extending a hand to you. âCome.â 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. âBut, the other we need to tell-â âDonât worry âbout that. Weâll be quick.â 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. âWow!â You said with a gasp âIt feels so different when youâre actually inside the car.â You looked at him as he drove out of the shopâs driveway. âYeah, I felt that too when I first drove it.â He said with a chuckle. âWhere are you taking me?â You asked curiously. âYouâll see, princess. Enjoy the ride for now.â He answered as he chose a song to play for the ride.Â
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. âIs this it?â 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.
âJakeâ he looked at you, admiring your side profile âThis is beautiful.â 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. âThank you.â You said looking at him, seeing how his eyes slightly widened. He looked down at his feet, feeling his ears get hotter âItâs nothing really.â âHow did you even find this place?â You wondered. âThis is gorgeous!â Jake finally looked at you, examining your face, sensing you were asking a genuine question and not just a rhetorical one. âWell,â He started with a sigh. âI usually come here to kind of unwind a little.â He said kicking some rocks on the floor. âIt just tunes me out the rest of the world. I feel the best when Iâm here.â
He felt the urge to keep talking as he felt you still looking at the side of his head. âNormally when I have a big argument with my dad I just come here and let everything out. No one comes here since itâs far from the city so now itâs my comfort place and Iâve never brought anyone here except for you.â He stopped talking, looking at you, seeing you with empathetic eyes. âThank you for sharing that with me Jake.â You rubbed his back in a comforting way âIâm glad you trust me enough to tell me all that, I know itâs not easy to deal with those kinds of problems, even if I never went through them myself. I hope you know Iâm a shoulder you can lean on when you need one. You shouldnât keep those thoughts to yourself.â Jake felt his eyes getting teary as he heard you talk. âI 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.â 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. Jakeâs 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. âLook,â You said pointing to the sky âThe first star of the night. Make a wish!â You finished as you looked at Jake. âA wish?â You nodded âAlright if you say so.â 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. âWhat did you wish for?â he asked âCanât tell you, it wonât come true if I do.â 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 otherâs features. You couldnât 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 didnât have enough or going as far as secretly ordering take out for Ni-ki when he had forgotten to pack his own lunch. They didnât know him in reality. If they had seen him with your eyes they would know he wouldnât do anything to hurt anyone or anything purposely. They couldnât 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. âHey, mom.â You turned to Jake, mouthing him a Sorry which he dismissed with a shake of his head. âUhâŚâ Your eyes started moving around nervously âI, uh, Iâm with Jake, Mom.â 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 couldnât hear what she was saying. âUm, Mom, I donât- okay wait.â You turned to Jake with a sigh âYou wanna come over for dinner?â You asked him, making him still for a moment. âUh, sure, I mean, why not.â He answered shrugging, something you werenât really expecting, but deep down you were kind of glad he had accepted. âOkay, heâs coming. Yeah, see you, bye Mom.â You hung up, standing up and looking at Jake. He only looked at you, not knowing what to say. âCâmon.â You pulled him off the hood âWe got dinner waiting for us.âÂ
You were driving back to the city, immersed in a conversation about various topics. âAlso, Iâm gonna warn you about my mom, she can be a little too much sometimes, so sorry in advance.â Jake laughed at your words. âDonât say that. Iâm pretty sure she means well.â He said looking at you. âIf that makes you feel better about meeting her, then sure Jake, whatever you say.â Shortly after, Jake was pulling into your houseâs driveway, making you feel nervous, the fact that he was meeting your parents finally sinking in. You donât know why you felt like this, you two werenât 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 werenât for Jake you wouldâve fallen on your butt. âOh, what gentleman he is!â The door was fully open, revealing your mom who was now cooing at Jake. âMom, don't.â you said in a warning tone, making her wave her hand at you dismissingly. âOh, you must be Jake.â She said grabbing him by the arms âCome in you two.â She invited, making space for you to enter the house. âHow was day, dear?â Your mom asked, making you break the mad face you were making at her with a small smile. âIt was okay. We didnât have any clients today which is not good for the shop.â âOh, that must be really frustrating for you guys.â She said furrowing her brows in a worried way. âAnyways, letâs get to the kitchen. The foodâs getting cold.â She smiled warmly at you two as she dragged you both to the kitchen. âIs dad not home?â You said with a small pout. âOh no, heâs out for that company dinner he had. You know it.â 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 momâs voice snapped him out of his thoughts. âGive me your plate, dear. Iâll serve you.â 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.Â
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 didnât 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.
âEverything alright?â you asked with a worried expression, just then he noticed he had his brows pressed tightly together. âOh um, yeah, just my dad texting me.â He said smiling at you, guilt eating him up, but deep down he wasnât lying, just not telling the whale truth, which made him feel shitty. âItâs getting late so maybe I should go. Thank you for the meal, it was really good!â 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. âHey,â You said grabbing his attention âAre you sure youâre alright? You looked pretty tense back there.â You asked in a worried tone. He sighed, nodding at you. âYes, princess. Donât worry about it. Iâll text you when I get home, yeah?â You nodded at him and you bid your goodbyes. Before he could leave, you grabbed his wrist. âThank you for today, really.â You smiled widely at him, making him chuckle at you âYouâre welcome, princess. Good night.â 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 âDonât even start, ok?â you said not wanting to have that conversation. âDindât day a word, honey.â She said smiling at you. âWhatever. Goodnight, Mom.â âGoodnight, dear.â
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.Â
jake <3: thank you for tonight, princess :)
jake <3: sorry for leaving so suddenly. my dad texted me and you know how it isâŚ
you: jake you donât need to thank meÂ
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 :)Â
jake <3: goodnight princess:)Â
The next day at work you felt kind of uneasy. The way Jake left your house yesterday left you with an unsettling feeling. You didnât know what his dad had texted him and you surely werenât gonna ask him, you were in no place to do that. It was already 5:30 pm and Jake still hadnât stopped by the shop, something unusual since he always comes by lunchtime. You didnât 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. âLover boy didnât come today, huh?â Sunghoon said making you roll your eyes before turning to look at them, now standing up from your crouching position. âHeâs not my lover and you know that damn well.â you said propping your hand on your hip. âYet!â Heeseung says with a stupid grin on his face.
âAnyways, weâre going to this party tonight and we wanted to invite you so you better be there.â the older male said. âUh, I donât know, guys. Iâm not really-â âNot in the mood, yeah we know. Same story and itâs not working today. You are going today, no excuses.â Sunghoon paused for a while âYou know, Jakeâs gonna be there.â he said with a smirk. You lightly tapped your foot on the floor, knowing you didnât 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. âFine, I guess I can go.â you sighed, crossing your arms âWhere and when?â Heeseung gave you the details about the party, maybe it wouldnât 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. âTypical y/n, am I right?â 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 meâs and Sorryâs 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.
âHey and before you scold me, yes I know Iâm late.â you said as you and Sohee hugged before taking a seat next to Jay. âWouldnât expect any different from you.â Sunghoon said making you let out Shup up to him. You looked around and saw everyone there except for one person. âWhereâs Jake?â you asked still looking around, failing to notice the exchange of looks between the four of them. âHeâs- Well, he is with some guys from the soccer team, yeah.â Sungoon said, a nervous smile dancing on his lips, making you tilt your head at him âWeird.â you thought out loud. âBut donât worry!â Sunoo said, making you look at him âHeâll probably be here⌠soon.â âOkay?â 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 âNo more talking. Letâs get the night started and get drinks!â Everyone got up, greedy to finally get some alcohol in their systems, maybe thatâs 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.Â
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.
âCan I get two Pink Whitneys with Sprite, please?â the bartender nodded at you before leaving to prepare the drinks. âWas wondering if you could still party, y/nâ Sohee told you laughing. âOh, shut up. It hasnât been that long.â You both turned back to the counter when you heard the bartender speak. âFor the pretty ladies.â 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 hadnât tasted in a long time. âGod, I forgot how much I love this.â You said taking a big sip of the pink drink. âBrings back old memories doesnât it?â 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. âFor old timeâs sake.â She clinked her glass with yours âFor old timeâs sake!â she said before finishing her drink in one big gulp as she did the same.Â
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. âLook! Jakeâs there, letâs say hi!â 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 Soheeâs hand trying to get her attention but she had already seen enough. You two stood there watching as a girl eagerly kissed Jakeâs neck, his face was hidden since he was looking opposite from where you were. âJake?â 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 wasnât 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 couldnât 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. âYou guys knew?â you said with a choked sob. None of them were saying a word, making your blood boil when you got your answer. âYou all fucking knew this whole time.â you screamed, pointing your finger at them accusingly. âHow long has it been going on?â Jay was quick to speak up. âIt was just today.â he started. âWe didnât know she was gonna be here and I donât think Jake knew either.â You were starting to get even more confused âWhat do you mean she?â you asked shaking your head. They all looked at each other not knowing what to say. âHeeseung, did you know about this?â Sohee asked her boyfriend, and he quickly shook his head no. âNo, i swear. None of us knew and as he said it was probably a not-so-pleasant surprise for Jake as well.â Knowing that everyone knew who she was and they werenât explaining it to you was leaving you irritated and you just wanted to leave. âSohee can we just go home.â you quietly asked and she ran a hand down your back in a soothing manner. âYeah, give me your car keys, Iâll drive.â 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. âI donât even know why Iâm crying itâs not like we had something.â you said trying to wipe your tears but they just kept coming. âY/n, it wouldnât take a genius to see that something was going on between you two. I canât honestly understand why Jake would be with someone else, especially her.â âWill anyone ever tell me who she is?â you said in an annoyed tone. Sohee sighed as she sat back in the driverâs seat. âThat 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.â she paused with a sigh. âShe didnât take it very well since she had always been possessive with him but we thought she finally had gotten over it, itâs been, like, a year and something?â 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.
âI just donât understand why he would do this, after all that weâve been through.â You said feeling tears coming back, pooling in your eyes. âSohee, I let all of my guard down for him, I told him my everything and this feels like history is repeating itself, you know?â You told her as memories from your history with your ex brought you a sour feeling âY/n, whatever happened between you and Jeno is long behind, I thought we had already talked about this.â âI 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 shouldnât 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?â 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.
âY/n, I know this really isnât the right time to say this but Iâve known Jake for as long as Iâve been dating Heeseung and I canât understand why he is doing this. This really isnât like him, at all.â She rubbed your back âIâm more than sure he will explain himself to you soon. This just doesn't sit right with me.â You wiped your eyes as you sniffed âI donât want to see him anytime soon, Sohee.â She smiled sadly at you. âI know, honey, But you know it will eventually happen right? Itâs inevitable.â You nodded at her, knowing she was right. âLetâs go home yeah? You can stay at mine today. Donât want you dealing with this alone.âÂ
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 wouldnât 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                         Â
jake <3: i know what it looks like but it isnât like thatÂ
jake <3: let me explain please                   Â
jake <3: you know id never hurt you. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
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. âWhere did i go wrong? I mustâve done something really bad in my past life to deserve this.â âY/n, cut the nonsense, you donât deserve this, ok?â she said grabbing your arms and turning to look at her. âYouâre gonna get through this with me and when youâre ready youâre gonna go back to work and maybe talk with Jake, yeah?â You took a deep breath before nodding at her. âGood. Now youâre gonna rest and tomorrow weâll see whatâs gonna happen.â 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 Soheeâs for a few days. All you did was mop around the house and lay in your friendâs 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 wasnât 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. âGod, what am I doing.â You said talking to yourself. You stared into nothingness as you got in deep thought. Being like this wasnât gonna take you anywhere and avoiding situations where you might meet Jake wonât either. So, you made the final decision that you were going to work tomorrow, no matter what. You looked at the clock on the kitchenâs 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 couldnât 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 shouldâve let him explain himself. Dumb y/n, so dumb.Â
Jake felt horrible. You really had to come near him at the wrong moment and see something that really wasnât what it looked like. But he shouldâve known the moment she texted him the night he was at your house she was serious. Why couldnât Aerin just get over the fact they werenât 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. Itâs 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 didnât know what else to do. He called Heeseung and said you still hadnât 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 shouldâve 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 couldnât 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 werenât doing any better than him and that hurt him even more. Knowing he couldnât be the one to hold you and comfort you was killing. Jake knew he couldnât 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 wasnât 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. âGood morning.â 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. âCâmon, get up. You need to get ready.â 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. âSo,â Sohee said mid-chew âare you ready for today?â You looked at her as you sipped on your coffee. âI mean, no. But as you said I canât keep avoiding him and itâs better if we talk already than not.â You answered as your fork played with the blueberries on your plate. âYou got this, yeah?â 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. Thereâs 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 wasnât and it was exactly what it looked like. âWell, shit.â 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. âHey guys!â you greeted. You walked towards them and Sunghoon pulled you into a hug, making you let out a shaky breath. âHowâve you been, dummy?â He asked, letting you go of his arms. âWell, yâknow, not good. But! Iâm here to change that and yes Iâm going to avoid that conversation, if you donât mind.â 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 carâs engine and gasket.Â
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 wasnât 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 wouldâve ended up getting a summer job at a mechanic shop and befriending the six workers you wouldnât believe it. But you couldnât 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. âGod.â You sighed loudly. Heeseung slid from underneath a car to check on you, âEverything ok?â he asked sitting up. âI guess. Just this thing is harder than I thought it would be.â 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. âI think youâre going on the right path. Nothing is looking wrong or weird so keep going.â He said patting your back âYouâre doing well, you always do.â You chuckled at his words âYou flatter me, Lee.â He laughed at your words âAll for the best of my wor-âÂ
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. âI think I should go somewhere elseâŚâ You nodded at him, fully understanding why he was doing it. You pretended to go back to work, trying to convince yourself that Jake wouldnât 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. âHeyâŚâ 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. âHi, Jake.â You said nodding at him. Your gaze drifted from his figure, trying to look at anything but him, as you fiddled with your fingers. âNice patch!â He said chuckling, making you blush as you stared at the Care Bears patch placed upon your knee. âThere was ripped so my mom put it on for me.â You said still not looking at him, making him mutter a Cute under his breath, which you almost missed. âWhy are you here?â 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.
âI guess- No, I know and I need to explain myself to you.â He started, gulping his anxiety away. âWhat you saw that night wasnât something anyone would expect that would happen. I mean, I shouldâve 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 isnât a lie, because I did, but you also deserved to know that Aerin had also texted me.â His eyes finally met yours with an apologetic gaze. Your face was contorted in confusion and you waited for him to explain it further. âShe 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.â You stared at the ground hearing those words. âWas I a rebound to you Jake?â You asked quietly âNo!â He answered with no hesitation âOf course not! And I hope you never felt that way because all I did for you was genuine.â his hand twitched, Jake wanted to reach out to you but he knew he still had further explaining to do. âGoing 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.â His voice became shaky as he played that moment back in his head. âAnd 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.â Tears started falling from your eyes as you heard him talk.Â
Your chest was tight with guilt. You felt bad for what you did to him. He didnât 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. âBaby, please donât cry.â The pet name left his lips before he could think about it but you didnât seem to have heard it or mind it. âJake Iâm so sorry.â You said between hiccups of sobs âPlease, please forgive me. I probably made you go through hell when you didnât even do anything. I was so selfish.â Your cries got louder as you spoke and you didnât even care if the boys could hear you. âY/n, no! Stop apologizing. It was not your fault, ok? You arenât the one to blame. You werenât the one causing this, Aering was.â 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. âI would forgive you in a heartbeat if you had anything to apologize for, but you don't, you hear me?â 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. âIâm sorry I made you go through all of this.â You saw the tears pooling in his eyes, making you cup his cheek.
âAre we ok now?â He asked, worry still lingering in his tone. You smiled widely at him as you furiously nodded your head âYes! God, Jake, of course!â 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 donât 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. âLetâs go.â He said nodding towards his car. âJake I canât I have to finish-â âDonât worry about that. Iâm pretty sure Heeseung wonât mind.â You were hesitant but still let him drag you to his car. âOk- wait. Slow down, oh my God. Isnât this kidnapping? Geez!â You said scowling lightly at him at the eagerness he was pushing you with. âStop talking nonsense, silly.âÂ
The boys finally gathered around the entrance as they heard Jakeâs car leave with you both inside it. âWell, it was kinda awkward.â Jungwon said breaking the silence. Sunoo rolled his eyes, slapping the boy's arm. âWhat? Itâs true!â He said raising his hands in surrender. Silene took over again as everyone tried to process what had just happened. âIf all it takes to leave work early is to argue with my girlfriend then Iâm down.â âNi-ki, shut the fuck up.â
You were anxious for today. Even though Jake has been countless times at your house and had dinner with your parents just as much, youâve 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 couldnât, you couldnât delay this moment any longer, sooner or later it was gonna happen and it was happening today. You didnât know how to really feel about it. From what Jake told you, you knew his dad wasnât the best person but you didnât 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 Jakeâs parents, not wanting to leave a bad first impression.
Your phone buzzed in your bed, you picked it up and saw Jakeâs 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 clichĂŠ 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. âYou know you can take a closer look, right?â His words made you roll your eyes, despite feeling your cheeks grow hot. âYouâre so cocky, Jake.â 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. âWe have places to be, young man.â Jake sighed at your words and you both got in the car.Â
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. âThereâs nothing to be worried about, y/nâ He said in a quiet voice, making you look at him at the sudden words. You let out a breath you didnât realize you were holding, looking back to the road. âI know. Itâs just- I donât even know why Iâm nervous.â You answered chuckling humorlessly. Jake gave your hand a squeeze, giving you a silent reassurance. âI know that from what I say about my dad he sounds scary but he can be nice sometimes and Iâm sure he will be pretty okay with you, so donât think too much about it, yeah? Besides my momâs gonna be there so it wonât be as bad.â You nodded and smiled at him, leaning on the center console to peck his cheek, making him smile.
Soon enough, you both reached his parentâs 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 didnât 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. âJake, my love.â She said as she pulled the said man into her embrace. âIâve missed you so much!â Jake smiled as he looked at her with a grin. âMissed you too, mom.â He said lovingly pecking her forehead. âOh, goodness. You must be y/n, Iâm Sooyoung! So glad to meet you dear!â She said pulling you in a hug, making you smile at her as you felt the nerves slowly leaving your body. âYes, I am! Itâs so nice to finally meet you!â You told her, as she held your hands in herâs. âYou know, Jake sounded so excited to finally introduce you to us, he would always talk about you when he called.â You heard Jake groan beside you. âMom!â âWhat? Iâm just saying!â She said laughing at his son âAnyways, come inside. Dinner is almost ready!â She leads you both inside the house. âDo you need help with anything?â You asked her âOh no, dear! Donât worry, everythingâs almost done. You both wait in the leaving room while I finish it.âÂ
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. âHey, dad. This is y/n, my girlfriend.â Jake said introducing you to the older man. âHi, sir. Itâs nice to meet you!â You said bowing slightly at him, wiping your sweaty hands in the back of your pants. Jakeâs 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. âItâs nice to see the girl my son canât shut up about. Canât say Iâm not surprised to see my son could keep up with a girl like you.â You felt shy at his words, not really knowing what to say. âAh, Iâm sure itâs not like that.â You said rubbing your arm anxiously. He then walked to Jake, shaking hands with his son, giving him a tight-lipped smile. âHope youâve been behaving well, son.â He said patting his sonâs head. âDad..â Jake said rolling his eyes. The three of you sat on the couch, Jake's dadâs eyes were on the TV but his focus was somewhere else.
âSo,â He started. âWhere did you two meet?â He asked, turning to look at you two. You looked at Jake and then at his father âWe met at my workplace.â You said nodding at him. âYou work?â He asked curiously. âWell, itâs a summer job, but yeah I do. Been there for about two and half months maybe?â You smiled at him, rubbing your hands back in forth on your thighs as you tried to ease the nerves. He hummed âAnd what do you do, may I ask?â âDad, itâs enough questions.â Jake said but you stopped âItâs okay, Jake.â You said smiling at him. âIâm working at a mechanic shop, which I know itâs not usual as a summer job, but I enjoy it a lot.â 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. âWe should totally book a dinner with your parents y/n, Jake talks about how nice they are when he stays at your house. â Jakeâs mother suggested. âYeah, I think that would be really nice. They would love it!â 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. Jakeâs 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.
Jakeâs mom got up and walked towards the fridge. âIf everyoneâs finished, I made dessert!â She said as she put a homemade ice cream bowl on the table. She sat back down and the conversation went on. ây/n I almost forgot to ask! What are you studying?â Sooyung asked as she looked at you. her elbow propped on the table. âOh, Iâm majoring in computer science actually!â You answered with a smile. âI actually share a few classes with Jake.â You said looking at him with a smile, seeing him already looking at you. âOh really! What a coincidence, isnât it!â His mother beamed at you. Jakeâs father scoffed beside his mother making you snap your head in his direction. âIâm surprised he actually attends classes.â He said looking down at his desert. Jakeâs 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. Jakeâs mother scolded him silently for speaking about it when you were present, but the man couldnât care less. âSoccer, soccer, soccer. Itâs all that goes through that head of his.â He said, finally looking up at his son, who stared at him with a stoic expression. âI work hard every day to give him a stable future and yet he doesnât even think about pursuing that.â He said with an expression that could be read as disappointment. âLook at his brother. Working a high-paying job, a stable one, and yet, you canât take it as an example to look up to. Do you really think soccerâs gonna take you anywhere in life?â He asked but he wasnât really looking for an answer. Your heart felt like it could jump out of your chest with how quick it was beating. Jakeâs face was emotionless but his hands were shaking as the force of his own fatherâs words hit him like rocks. It hurt you to see him take all this and you just couldnât keep yourself quiet any longer
âYou know,â You started âJakeâs really good at what he does best, even if itâs at soccer.â You gulped your nerves down as you continued. âIf thereâs 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 donât know a thing about soccer or sports but if heâs known in almost every national universityâs 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, heâs going to graduate so thereâs always a plan b. Have you ever considered your sonâs happiness? I genuinely donât 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 doesnât want to do it?â
You looked at Jake, seeing him look at you with tears pooling in his eyes, making your own eyes water. âJake deserves nothing but to be happy. If you only could see how much heâs done then maybe you would love him a bit more.â You got up from your chair, the scraping sound made you slightly hiss. Jake understood what you were doing and did the same. âIâm so sorry about this, but I just canât stand you seeing talk so low of your son. I hope you can reflect a little bit. Again, Iâm sorry.â 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. âItâs alright now.â 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. âIâm sorry for, you know, causing all that. I just couldnât not do anything.â You said looking down. âHey, donât apologize. Thank you for that, really.â he said letting out a breath. âItâs better you saying that than me having another screaming match with my father.â He smiled sadly.
âI didnât know you liked me that much, though.â He joked trying to lighten the mood. âOh, câmon Jake, seriously.â You said groaning at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. âIâm kidding, Iâm kidding.â He said laughing. âYâknow, I like you that much too.â You felt shy under his gaze, suddenly not able to look in his eyes. âDo you really?â You asked as you kicked tiny rocks on the floor. âYes, silly. Of course I doâŚâ Jake tensed âEven more than liking, actually.â You looked up at him when he said that, seeing him biting his lips nervously. âWhat?â You asked, surprised as you felt your heart race. âI- sorry I shouldnât-â âJake.â 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. âI love you.â 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. âI love you too princess.â He finally said, âSo much.â 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. âLetâs go?â 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.
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