#is this the first time I've written for dan?

[dan-whoell]

When BIG dropped I was sitting in the passenger seat of my mother’s car. We were waiting for a red light to change. The youtube notification pinged and my I got goosebumps.

In all honesty I thought it was... not a joke exactly, but I thought for sure it was clickbait, that there was some kind of spin. I didn't believe it was actually happening. I went to twitter and saw some of the responses and I thought... I don't know what I thought. Everyone was (obviously) taking him very seriously and yet I still didn't believe it was actually happening. For some reason I just assumed it was being blown out of proportion. Still I was cautiously optimistic, thinking ok, maybe it’s real, but I never imagined Dan would explicitly come out the way that he did. 

An hour or two later I got home and watched it in my bedroom, alone, and cried. It was real. He was putting himself out there in a way that he could not walk back. I was so fucking proud of him. But more than that, I felt seen. Understood. The fear and the shame he talked about was so real to me. Specifically I remember that was a lot of stress about nothing and I didn’t think they’d reject me these days, but coming out is still a surprise and to anyone that isn’t out, it’s okay.

I was 23 and closeted to my immediate family and only just beginning to really accept my own gender crisis. I had so much fear about actually voicing my queerness to anyone in my family. I was out as a lesbian at work and had one friend that I even remotely said anything to about gender (which was mostly me shrugging and saying it was something I thought about, but not a whole lot.) But none of it was authentically me. I wasn’t living my truth, you know? I didn’t even know my truth because I didn’t do a lot of the work to figure myself out. I’ve always thought that I would never fully live my life until my family was gone, so I didn’t see the point in doing much exploring.

And then I saw this incredible person that I’d watched and looked up to for years had a courage that I didn't think I’d ever have. He gave words to the anxiety inside of me. I cried and I didn’t have anyone to hug but myself. 

I’m 28 now and I’m still not out to my family. It’s still scary to me. But I’ve looked inside myself a lot, and I’ve accepted the truth about who I am. I am queer. I am trans. That doesn’t change no matter who I do or do not tell. And I only have courage to accept myself because of Dan, and Phil, and entire community of people who are unapologetically themselves. 

Five years ago BIG gave me the courage to be honest with myself, and I will forever be grateful for that.

[alchemiclee]

digital wip compared to pencil sketch. DID I MAKE HIM LOOK PRETTY YET?????

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Avicii - Hey Brother 2013

"Hey Brother" is a dance song by Swedish DJ and record producer Avicii from his debut studio album, True (2013). American bluegrass singer Dan Tyminski provides vocals for the track. Tyminski did the vocals for "A Man of Constant Sorrow" (poll #26) from the 2000 film O Brother, Where Art Thou?.

"Hey Brother" was written by Avicii, Ash Pournouri, Salem Al Fakir, Vincent Pontare and Veronica Maggio. The song, which serves as the album's third single, was solicited to Australian radio on 9 October 2013 and later released on 28 October 2013 in Germany, Switzerland and Austria. In March 2014, a version of the track remixed by Avicii himself was released on his remix album True (Avicii by Avicii), this time featuring new vocals from singer Salem Al Fakir.

In the UK, after climbing for several weeks, "Hey Brother" peaked at number two on the UK Singles Chart on 15 December 2013. In addition, "Hey Brother" peaked at the top of the UK Dance Chart. Including previous releases "I Could Be the One", "Wake Me Up" and "You Make Me", Avicii therefore reached the summit of the UK Dance Chart four times in 2013 alone.

In the US, the song entered the Billboard Hot 100 chart at number 77 in December 2013, and rose to number 16 in March 2014. After Clear Channel personnel noticed the song's success at pop and adult pop radio, they asked Island Def Jam to craft a remix that showcases the song's instruments more prominently. Support for this remix enabled "Hey Brother" to debut, and peak, at number 59 on Billboard's Country Airplay chart in March 2014. The song would become Avicii's final song to hit the top 40 before his death in 2018.

"Hey Brother" received a total of 67% yes votes!

[miraclewoozi]

DON'T SWEAT IT. - l.jh

Today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — Jihoon is forced to notice you.

pairing; lee jihoon x fem!reader.  content; fluff / gym crush au / strangers to lovers / kinda idiots to lovers / smut towards the end (MINORS DNI). w/c; just a breezy 18k- and some change? warnings; swearing, this is only proof read once because if i read it again i was going to lose my mind. please let me know if i've forgotten any. smut tags under the cut ( not sure that this counts as a warning but a heads up: the gym weight units, whenever mentioned, are in kilograms not lbs because i’m british and the metric system, am i right? sorry if there are any other british-isms, i try really hard to avoid them/catch them on a proofread but there are inevitably some that have slipped through the net.  )

note; gym-selfie jihoon, you will never not own my ass. ( screaming internally this is the first fic i've written since my dan + phil youtube era. i don't know what i'm doing. this has been in my wips for about two months. it's a bit all over the place. that's. literally just me. bon appetite. <3 )

smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), blowjob started/implied (at the end), protected sex (be safe out there gang), little bit of biting, no huge power dynamics? reader & jihoon are both switches (and simps), some use of pet-names (good girl/baby).

—————

He first sees you around lunchtime on an otherwise unassuming Sunday. 

As you walk in, the gym is wonderfully quiet. A handful of regulars mill about, making full use of the rare freedom of the machinery. One of the club’s personal trainers is marching an impossibly steep incline on a treadmill. It could just be any other weekend session in this criminally over-equipped and under-used gym: the town’s worst kept secret. But when the door slams shut behind you, his head jerks up; it, in this moment, is the loudest sound in the room. It’s sort of the only one he hears at all.

Today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — Jihoon is forced to notice you as he sits with dumbbells rested against his thighs. He catches his breath as he wonders who you are, if you’ve ever been to this gym before, why he doesn’t recognise you. Are you a new potential regular, maybe? Or just visiting the area and making good use of the cheap pay-as-you-go rates? Maybe, he considers, lips turning downwards in thought… maybe you’ve been coming here for a long time and he’s somehow just always been so in his own head that he’s never noticed.

The last, he thinks, is sort of unlikely. No. He would definitely remember a face like yours.

His heart rate slows more than he usually lets it as he finds himself watching you fill up your water bottle at the fountain, taking a long sip on your way over to one of the stairmasters. His brain blanks out when he realises that he’s not just looking anymore, he’s sort of staring, and swallows the saliva on his tongue hard, looking back at the mirror. He doesn’t want to be that guy. He isn’t that guy – he just got distracted by the loud noise, and this is exactly why he checks the damn battery on his headphones before he leaves the house. 

The only problem is that now, he can’t remember how many sets he’s done. He lies back and stares straight into a slightly sketchy light-fixture, neglecting to pick up the dumbbells that he put aside for his next set of pushes. Jihoon adjusts the position of his shoulders against the bench, arches his back off it slightly, digs his heels into the spongy floor beneath them and pushes the ones still in his hands until failure. 

Today, he finishes his routine and leaves the gym without allowing himself so much as another glance your way.

He neglects to notice that your eyes are avoiding him right back. 

—————

You smile at him for the first time on a Tuesday. Not the following one – a week and a bit later.

Seungcheol is with him tonight. Jihoon prefers to train alone nine times out of ten: this is a truth widely acknowledged, accepted and respected among his friends. Gym time is his down time, his equivalent of movie marathons and comfort food, of face masks and glasses of wine. But it’s not a hard rule: occasionally, someone will ask to tag along and use one of his guest passes, and Jihoon very rarely says no. There are two reasons. One, he isn’t actually rude, contrary to approximately eighteen running jokes in the group-chat. But also, it adds a little bit of variety to his otherwise very set-in-stone regimen, and mixing it up doesn’t hurt. Like tonight, for example. Seungcheol is pulling him into the studio off the main gym floor, his own gym bag packed with boxing pads and gloves for them to play with.

Variety.

Jihoon grumbles a little at the idea, at first. He has a very love-hate relationship with cardio, favouring a simple steady-state run over everything else, and it just feels a bit against his moral code to use gym time for something like this. However, he comes to discover very quickly that smacking Seungcheol’s hands is very therapeutic; Jihoon knows he’s maybe getting a little too into it when his friend asks if they can switch around, grimacing and shaking out his wrist after a particularly beefy punch. 

He agrees, albeit reluctantly, tugging off the gloves he’s wearing and pulling on the pads instead.

This half of the activity is considerably less enjoyable for Jihoon; he starts to cool down and loses his flow almost straight away and after about thirty seconds, his breathing is back to normal and he feels ready to go again. Even so, he does what he needs to do to be a good workout partner, and goes one step further into ‘good friend’ territory as he allows Seungcheol to vent about the bad day he had at work in-between hits, offering murmurs and looks of disgust when it feels appropriate. Suddenly, the impromptu request to come to the gym tonight makes much more sense, as does the slightly bizarre choice of activity, but Jihoon tries not to ask about it in too much detail.

They swing at each other for a few more rounds apiece, working up a healthy sweat and getting out a few frustrations as the hour wears on. On the last set, Jihoon switches out Seungcheol’s hands for a punching bag, putting a lot more of his weight behind every hit and really tiring himself out. By the end, his hair sticks to his forehead and his cheeks have flushed bright red; he only stops when he gets that weird, metallic taste in the back of his mouth that says he’s probably overdone it. Again.

“Hit the shower?” Seungcheol asks breathlessly as he finishes his last set of Russian twists and lies down flat on the floor, equally sticky and flushed all over. 

Jihoon pats his face dry with his towel, shaking his head. “You go ahead. I’ll have one at home.” 

He doesn’t give Seungcheol much of a chance to respond, already cleaning down anything he’s touched or managed to sweat on and riding out the high of the endorphins flooding his veins. Secretly, he hasn’t had a cardio session this high energy or this satisfying in a long time. He isn’t going to readily admit to that though.

“Nah, I’ll do the same,” Seungcheol agrees. He starts packing the gear he brought with him into his bag and they leave together after, heading towards the exit. 

That’s when he sees you again. 

He doesn’t notice at first; you’re stowing your things into one of the higher lockers, and you have your headphones slung around your neck as he walks past. It’s the sound of a song he vaguely recognises through your speakers that makes his head snap over from the conversation he’s in the middle of. They walk past at the moment you drop down from your tiptoes, and you flash a small (but insanely pretty) smile at Jihoon.

By the time he manages to process this fact, he’s already walked past you and you’re headed over into the main gym area, so even though he turns around to try and catch your eye, all he sees is your retreating figure. He stumbles over his own feet, not looking where he’s going, and just barely catches himself on Seungcheol’s upper arm before he actually does fall over. His older friend glances down at his bicep before he adopts a look that Jihoon has seen many, many times before: just never directed at him. His cheeks heat up further and he looks away.

“What was that?” Seungcheol asks, one eyebrow so far up his forehead that it’s disappeared almost entirely under his soggy hair. He looks so smug, so incredibly entertained. Jihoon wants to smack that expression off his face, immediately.

“Nothing,” Jihoon rushes, managing not to act on the violent thought even though he wants to. He clears his throat. “No-one. I-... they’re new, I think. I don’t know.”

Seungcheol lets out a soft laugh, pushing the door open for them both to leave through. “Yeah,” he scoffs, eyes glimmering with something Jihoon doesn’t think he likes the look of. “Nothing, my ass.”

—————

Three days later, he hears you speak for the first time.

Granted, you aren’t speaking to him – at least, not at first. But that’s not really what matters.

It’s late, and it’s a Friday night. Fridays are usually Jihoon’s days rest days, but sitting around his apartment had him feeling impossibly twitchy, with far too much energy to burn and no way to do so without leaving the house. And he knows that he needs to take days off, now and again. He knows that they’re good for recovery and that it’s healthy to take time to himself that involves not lifting weights. But what he also knows is that if he doesn’t manage to shake the weird buzzing feeling in his muscles, in his joints, in his veins, he’s never going to get to sleep. So, here he finds himself at almost 10PM, walking down the street to get to the gym.

To begin with, he doesn’t know (or really care) who it is that’s coming up behind him. He can hear quite clearly that the mystery person is on the phone, and that they’re in the middle of what seems to be a rather heated argument: his brain latches onto occasional words, phrases, curses. Every now and again, their voice drops to a deep, frustrated mutter and he cringes slightly, making a point to keep his eyes forward and down so as not to draw attention to the fact that this presumably private conversation has become everything but.

He touches his entry fob to the sensor on the door as he arrives and pushes it open. Jihoon uses the opportunity to stand still, to glance back at whoever it is that’s walked behind him for the past four and a half minutes, and his eyes come to land on you. He falters, noting how your eyes are a bit glassy and your cheeks are stained with what he can safely assume are tear-tracks. In this moment, he wants to run; he doesn’t want anything to do with that, and he certainly doesn’t want to hear any more of your call. It’s none of his business, and he feels plenty weird enough already with what he has overheard. But, for some unknown reason, he stays in place.

“No – no, you don’t get to-...” you hiss into your phone. “It was our fucking anniversary, you asshole.” Jihoon’s face tightens at that, lips drawn between his teeth and his eyes blowing slightly wide. You pass through the door in front of him, flashing a small smile as you go. Another smile, he thinks to himself, but he’d be an idiot to compare them in any way; this one is so dramatically dissimilar to the first, he thinks it could almost have come from a totally different person. 

Unfortunately, there’s nothing ‘insanely pretty’ about it this time. Your smile is tight-lipped and exhausted, slightly apologetic. Maybe even forced. He does try to return a warmer one to you, but he doesn’t know if you notice. 

“Look, I’m at the gym – we’re not doing this right now. I’ll call you later.” You hang up the phone with the kind of sigh that groans in the back of your throat.

A small part of him wants to take this moment and use it to ask if you’re all right, but an even larger part of him doesn’t. It isn’t because he doesn’t care. In a weird way, considering this is only the first time he’s clearly heard your voice and he knows absolutely nothing about you, he does care. But there are a few things that stop him. Not only are you a near-complete stranger, not only would he have no idea what to say to you if the answer happened to come out as a ‘no’, not only is he already coming over a little bit clammy at the thought of having a conversation with you… Jihoon isn’t stupid. He knows from the sound of your voice and the way you’re rather aggressively typing a message into your phone that it’s a ridiculous question.

You’re walking into the gym at 10 o’clock on a Friday night, your eyes literally brimming with tears. Of course you’re not all right.

He’s still standing in the open doorway mulling all this over, but Jihoon only realises when a gust of wind slaps over his calves and sends a draught not only through the reception area, but up the length of his spine. He comes inside fully as you close the locker you’re using – he notices, but he isn’t sure why, that it’s the same one as last time – and throws his things into the one he always uses. Two below and one to the left of yours.

It’s quiet tonight: just the pair of you and one middle-aged guy. Jihoon recognises him as the friendly man who seemingly knows everyone who comes in here – including you, apparently, judging by the way he strikes up a short but energetic conversation. When the other guy walks away, you clamp your headphones back over your ears and return to what you were doing before, occasionally bobbing your head or moving your lips in time with whatever it is that you’re listening to. Jihoon steals little glances at you now and again when you’re in-between sets, watching how you breathe deeper, how your skin glows with sweat as you tap your fingertips against your thighs.

He almost drops the bar he’s holding when you catch his eyes in the long line of mirrors. He turns away, swallowing hard, completely missing how your own gaze lingers.

Jihoon becomes so obsessed with not being caught looking at you again that he doesn’t even notice when you disappear off the gym floor completely. It’s only when he pulls his headphones off at the end of his session and glances around that he registers your absence: your third companion is long gone, and he assumes you must have snuck out without him noticing too. He settles the speakers back over his ears before pulling on an old zip-up, flicking the hood over his head to shelter him a little better once he gets outside. But he’s in no rush to get home so he takes his time, resting his bag between his abdomen and the lockers, replying to a few messages and clicking his tongue at some of the nonsense being spewed into the group-chat. 

He isn’t sure exactly how long he’s standing there for, but he does know precisely what pulls him back to the world outside of the device in his hands.

To begin with, he doesn’t notice you approach, lost completely in his screen. He doesn’t hear your footsteps, or the way you politely clear your throat to announce your presence so he can move out of the way. He misses your moment of realisation that he’s listening to music and has no idea that you’re standing three feet behind him. He doesn’t even see you walk up next to him, your hair still damp from your shower and sitting loose over your shoulders.

It’s only when you try to reach over him to grab the last of your things that he snaps out of his trance. The fragrance of your body wash hits him first, and oh boy, does it hit him. Sweet, and delicate. Then, he gets something beautifully fruity: it’s not a perfume (it doesn’t smell like a perfume), but it’s you. Your shampoo, maybe? A conditioner? He can’t tell. Whatever it is, the combination of fragrances has him feeling like he’s been slammed into by a damn freight train. He drops his bag to the floor, freezing for a second, and then finally moves away just as the little door swings open. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly, tugging his hood down and pulling his headphones off completely. “I didn’t even think you were still here.” He can’t shake the smell of you, nor the feeling of your warm frame leaning so close to his own. God, why is his heart pounding like he’s just finished a round of sprints? Why can’t he breathe?

“No – hey, no, don’t be,” you rush, shaking your head. You finally succeed in pulling your coat free and start trying to get it on; Jihoon wonders if you often struggle to find your sleeves like this, if you’re always chasing them around like a puppy after its own tail. He does it too, sometimes. He gets it. It’s cute. “It’s okay. I was trying not to disturb-... I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he tells you. For the first time, he’s able to smile back at you properly. 

Why is it so hot in here, all of a sudden? Do they shut off the air conditioning after hours or something? He’s breaking out in a sweat.

“Call it even?” you suggest shyly, extending out a hand now you’ve managed to get both arms through your sleeves. He looks down at your fingers for a second before reaching to shake your hand once, a semi-firm grip securing the ‘deal’. (He feels a bit like he’s been electrocuted after, but he tries not to make that too obvious).

It goes awkwardly quiet for a moment then, and Jihoon wishes deeply that he had it in him to say something. Anything. But his brain has gone completely empty and apparently, all he knows how to do is stand completely still like a fucking statue. He shifts his gaze from you, to the wall behind you, to the carpet beneath his shoes, all the while tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt as if it might bring him a tiny breath of fresh air. The gentle sound of you clearing your throat has him looking back at your face again though; he assumes for a second that this is maybe you about to announce taking your leave. All the while, he’s cursing himself out in his own head for being totally inept, and he’s not entirely sure that it isn’t written all over his face.

“Alone, today?” you ask, idly fiddling with your zipper and succeeding in taking him by surprise. He really didn’t think you were going to continue this. And yet…

“Hm?” he questions. 

You swallow before answering. “You… the last time, you were with a friend?” you explain, and now it’s your turn to look away. He wonders if you’re a little warm too, if he’s right in what he was thinking about the air-conditioning. 

“Oh. Right.” 

He nods. An annoying train of doubt in his mind wants to know why you’re asking about Seungcheol; if maybe it was him that you smiled at the other night, even though he knows your eyes weren’t looking up at the man he brought with him. He thinks maybe he should be used to these turns in conversation by now – you certainly wouldn’t be the first person to ask if one of his friends is available, after all – but somehow, he isn’t, and he has a slightly bitter taste in the back of his mouth as he goes on.

He really didn’t have ‘you being interested in one of his best friends’ on his bingo card for tonight, that’s for sure. 

“Yeah. I think he’s with his partner, or… I don’t know. I don’t really bring other people, often. That was a one-off.”

You nod silently and Jihoon can’t quite get a read on what that means. He wonders if you’re upset at the revelation of Seungcheol’s partner, or maybe that he doesn’t tag along to every session. Or maybe, maybe, you were just being polite, and you don’t really care what his friend is up to that means he isn’t here. But whatever it is that you’re feeling, you do far too good a job at hiding it; he’s suddenly very overcome with the desire to run, again, except this time he might just bury his head in the sand too for good measure.

“How much were you deadlifting, just then?” you ask in the lull, just as he thinks he might have perfected the best way to say goodbye that doesn’t make him come across as even more of a tool than he probably already has. It throws him off kilter, but somehow, he manages to answer you in reasonable time.

“Oh, God… uh, one… 160?” He says uncertainly. “That’s not… I can do heavier-...” In his mind, he slaps his forehead. “Wait, no, that’s-... I mean, it’s true, but I didn’t mean-...”

You bite back your smile as he talks himself in a circle but Jihoon is too flustered to notice, convinced that he now sounds like every arrogant gym rat on the planet. God, he’s given himself the ick.

“I guessed you could,” you say. 

Oh boy, this freezes him. Mid-thought, mid blink, mid-breath: he’s completely stuck. What does that mean? What does that mean? He only just manages to unstick his now suddenly dry tongue from the roof of his mouth, looking at you with surprised, confused eyes and parted lips. There aren’t any words on them, though. Like a deer in headlights, he just… stares.

“I mean, okay. Come on.” Your eyes visibly drop as you look him over, gaze lingering at his shoulders, his biceps, his waist. “You can get another twenty on that at least, right?”

He doesn’t know how to explain what’s happening to him, but if he thought he was burning up before? It was nothing compared to this, now. And there’s no way you haven’t noticed how everything from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears has suddenly started staining scarlet. He bows his head and pinches his lips tight, wrestling away the train of thought that appears as you drag your bottom lip between your teeth momentarily, still eyeing his arms. God, he’s never felt so overwhelmed in his life. 

“Something like that, yeah,” he strains. He’s trying so hard to be nonchalant, even though he knows all of his personal bests by heart. Deadlift, 195kg. He hit it a few weeks ago: a couple of days before he first saw you.

“Mm. You can tell.”

Jihoon tries to shake off the compliment, but he fails. In equal measure he wishes you’d stop (he doesn’t know how much more blood can rush to his cheeks before he keels over) and never wants you to stop talking. It’s all going straight to his stomach, though, and he doesn’t remember having felt this specific brand of nervous and excited and stupidly shy since he was in high school.

He can hardly keep up. This is the danger zone.

Maybe it’s a bad idea that he says the next thing that comes into his head in a desperate attempt to change the conversation away from how much he can pull. But somehow, his voice doesn’t break when he asks, “are you parked far away?”

What? It’s dark outside, and this part of town isn’t exactly known for its upstanding citizens and pretty flowerbeds.

“Oh,” you say, eyes a little wide. “I’m-... just staying close-by. I walked here.” The space between his eyebrows must crease a little too quickly because you immediately hurry to speak again. “Really. It’s like… not even ten minutes. All main streets. It’s nothing.”

“Ten minutes longer than I’d walk around here at night on my own,” he says lightheartedly. In tone, at least. He’s actually completely serious.

You laugh at that; he lets out a chuckle, too. Now, Jihoon doesn’t believe in fairies but he thinks that if they were real, they’d giggle just like you do. 

With a smile still on your face, you say, “what? A strong guy like you? Come on, now.”

Do you have to keep doing that? Fuck, he’s absolutely done for.

He tilts his head forwards, eyes closed, trying so hard to stop the muscles in his cheeks from lifting in a grin that it becomes a workout in and of itself.

“I mean it,” he says, taking what he hopes is a subtle breath to settle the fluttering in his chest. The next thing he knows, he’s leaning one shoulder against the lockers, a little reminiscent of every douchebag in every teen movie ever made. If he doesn’t think about it too much, he won’t cringe into oblivion until he gets home and replays this interaction over and over in his head instead of going to sleep. “Maybe I’ve just lived here too long. I might be jaded, but it’s still true.”

“How long is too long?” you ask.

“All my life,” he tells you.

“No way?”

“Mm.” A beat. “What about you?”

“I’m just staying with a friend, right now.”

“Oh, right.” He falls quiet again as he remembers the first time he saw you, remembers making the list in his head of all the possible reasons he hadn’t seen you before. The second was true, then.

Why does that feel like the worst possible scenario? He decides not to unpack that here.

“Maybe-...” you start, glancing down at your hands, which have been twisting in front of you for a few seconds now. Your chest inflates, filled with the words you’re about to speak, but only a breath comes out when you shake your head instead of saying them. “No, don’t worry. Scratch that.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, because he thinks that whatever you were about to suggest, there’s not much he would have said no to. He feels like it’s only fair to give you another chance to say it.

But you don’t.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” You pause. “I… should probably get going.” He glances over your shoulder at the clock mounted on the far wall, squinting to see the time. 11:45.

“Shit. Yeah, me too,” Jihoon agrees. He didn’t realise it had gotten so late, so fast: he’s hardly ever out at this time. Lord, he already knows it’s going to be an open inquisition when he gets back to his apartment. His neighbours, Soonyoung and Seokmin, are about to have a fucking field day. 

But it’s already long past the time he usually goes to bed, so he asks his next question anyway. He still can’t shake the thought of you walking back on your own at this hour. “Do-… you need a ride?” 

He’s not sure if you actually consider it, or just wait a moment before you answer just to be polite. Either way, you end up shaking your head.

“It’s okay. I’ve-… got a call to make, so.” Your voice is a little quieter, lips tweaking up into a regretful half-smile, and Jihoon curses in his own head. How had he forgotten about that? “Thank you, though. Really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “Just… get back safe.”

You smile and nod, taking a step towards the door and Jihoon does the same. He reaches the exit first and holds it open for you; when you’re both out in the street, he suppresses a shiver and looks in the direction of where he left his car earlier. Feeling the full force of the cold, it crosses his mind to ask again if you’re sure about walking home, but you’re already pulling a beanie down over your still damp hair and tapping something into your phone, so he doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll see you around, uh-…” you start to say, only looking back up when you falter, realising that this is the first time you’re about to use his name and it occurs to you both, at the same time, that you haven’t done this part, yet.

“Jihoon,” he introduces himself, lips quirking into a side-smile. His gaze is expectant and you respond to it perfectly. 

“Y/n,” you introduce yourself. 

“See you around, y/n.”

You split off in the opposite direction to where he’s heading. Before he clamps his headphones over his ears for the short walk up to his car, the last thing he hears is the retreating sound of a dial-tone. 

—————

He doesn’t see you then for two whole weeks. 

For the first couple of days, he only idly notices; it’s not a big deal — it’s not like you’re always there when he is, and he’s sure it’s the same vice versa. But he notices your absence, nonetheless. By the end of the first week, he casually wonders if you’ve had a change in schedule. Maybe you’re on a different working pattern, something that means you can’t be there on Monday and Thursday evenings and at 11:45am on Sundays. 

It’s not weird. He only knows this because prior to that first conversation, acknowledging you as you crossed paths by the free-weights became part of his routine. It’s fine that he sort of misses those little interactions, isn’t it?

Maybe you’ve decided to start training ridiculously early in the morning instead? He tried that once. Never again. It then occurs to him, in the middle of a self-enforced rest day as he sits in the dark nursing a headache, that perhaps you’re not well. He sort of wishes he’d had the guts to ask for your number the last time he saw you, now: he thinks he’d check in, see if you were okay, ask how work was going or something. 

Deep down he knows he’d probably actually just be staring at a blank text thread with a ‘casual’ message typed, tweaked a few hundred times, and ultimately unsent. But that’s fine. It’s the thought that counts. 

The next time he sees you isn’t even in the gym, at all. It’s a Sunday afternoon — he finished his morning session, went home, showered, and headed back out into town after some lunch with a few errands to run. He finds himself spoiled with the luxury of a spare few hours to kill and dips into his favourite coffee place, thrilled beyond belief to find that it’s not obnoxiously busy and that there’s only one other person in the queue waiting to be served. 

Oh, he thinks when he looks up from his phone and sees a vaguely familiar set of headphones sitting on top of a definitely familiar mane of hair, standing right in front of him. Oh, shit. It’s you.

Jihoon goes back and forth with himself over it but ultimately decides he probably doesn’t know you well enough to just say hello out in the wild like this, so even though the urge to do so strikes, he holds himself back. It’s agonising, though. He really wants to. 

You step forward to order and he’s typing out a reply to a message in his, Seokmin and Soonyoung’s three-way group chat, in which he’s literally been fighting for his life as of late. He made the mistake of mentioning you in passing a few days ago and ever since, he’s had to vehemently deny that he has developed his first gym crush, insisting that actually, he’s just made a friend. They don’t believe him, because of course they don’t. That would be far too reasonable. Seokmin says that Jihoon wouldn’t be blushing just from saying your name if you were really ‘just a friend’. Soonyoung argues Jihoon wouldn’t have mentioned you at all.

“I’m so sorry — bear with me, just-…” your voice is quiet but Jihoon hears you apologising to the cashier in front of you, and it snaps him clean away from the tiff he’s having with the men who live in his building. He glances up and you’re elbow-deep in the bag over your shoulder, red in the face with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. He turns his head slightly and sees the small hand-written sign that says the card machine isn’t working, and they’re cash only, today. 

He can hazard a guess at your predicament. 

After another few seconds of you trying to find whatever it is you’re looking for in your bag, he starts feeling bad for you. This, right here, is his own worst nightmare. Should the roles be reversed, he thinks he would’ve just turned around and walked out. It’s exactly why he doesn’t bother with backpacks and satchels day-to-day: if it doesn’t fit in his pockets, he doesn’t take it out with him. The system isn’t perfect but it has saved Jihoon a decent amount of public distress. 

But the roles aren’t reversed, and he has his wallet already in his hand, so… he only gives himself a few seconds to wonder if it’s appropriate before he does the stupid thing anyway.

“Don’t worry — I’ve got it,” he says, stepping around you, pulling out the cash to pay for your order. You’re dumbstruck when you look  at him, head tilted to the side. The person stood behind the counter glances at you, then at him, and back at you; you don’t see this, however, because your eyes haven’t left Jihoon’s face since he appeared — as far as you’re concerned — out of thin air.

“I can’t ask you to…” you start to protest, but your hands have stopped fishing around and he’s moving the cash further towards the barista, who hesitates just a second longer. 

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I’ve got you.” He says this with such finality that you quite literally can’t argue with him. The lady behind the counter accepts the cash and you nod, shyly, mouthing a thank you. He orders his own drink — an Americano, nothing exciting — and you both go to stand at the other end of the counter while you wait.

“Hi,” you finally say, and Jihoon can’t help but give a small chuckle. 

He doesn’t have anything hugely witty or creative in his arsenal, though, so he comes back with a matching, “hey.”

“How… have you been?” you ask. 

“Can’t complain, really,” he says. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you around for a few weeks.” Oh, God — the second the words are out of his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. Why did he have to add that last part? Why didn’t he just leave it at the question? 

“Yeah — about that,” you breathe, ducking your head to conceal the heat that’s spreading over your cheeks. “You know how I said I was staying with that friend?” He nods, and you continue. “I was waiting for some stuff to get sorted out with an apartment and it all finally got resolved, so… I’ve been moving my stuff over to a new place.”

Jihoon feels his heart sink for a moment, but he keeps his expression pleasant and engaged. His fingers threaten to give him away as they fiddle with the aglet on the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

“Sounds tiring,” he says lightly, and you laugh again, nodding. It’s odd, having his heart taking residence low in his stomach and somehow also in his throat, all while hammering away at a mile a minute. All the caffeine in the world couldn’t have this effect on him. “Is it going okay so far?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “It’s a process, but… it’ll be worth it.”

The barista behind the counter announces herself by clearing her throat and slides your drinks across the marble surface with a little glimmer in her eye. Jihoon picks them both up, extending yours out to you. There’s a pause (in which he swallows a large helping of self-doubt) as he glances to the door, working through several combinations of his next words in his mind before he looks back at you. 

“Do you… maybe have ten minutes to sit with these?” He asks. You light up immediately, not even checking the time on any of your devices, nor the wall clock behind your head. He doesn’t let himself think about why it makes him giddy that you’re accepting the offer, just like that.

“Yeah — yeah, sure.” You smile, walking through the lines of tables and sliding into one of the big, comfy chairs by the window. He unzips his jacket and slings it over the arm of the other chair before settling in himself, his long fingers wrapping around the to-go cup. The drink warms his perpetually cold palms and he sighs sweetly.

“You must be excited to get into the new place, then?” he asks after taking a sip, letting it heat him up from the inside. It could be argued that this job is already being taken care of, but Jihoon is not about to go there.

“Oh, God yes.” You nod, relaxing back in the seat with your own cup. Jihoon subconsciously leans a little forward in tandem. “It’s been fun staying with my friend, but…” You pause, lips slightly parted, before going on. “Okay, a warning: I’m a terrible person for this, I know. She’s done me a huge favour, letting me stay there — but I can’t deal with how untidy she is. It’s driving me nuts.”

A chuckle bubbles in Jihoon’s chest, cheeks starting to ache as his smile grows and grows. It hasn’t fallen since he sat down opposite you, and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, any time soon. “That bad?” he asks.

“You have no idea,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. He wishes you hadn’t — he thinks you look quite lovely when you’re all lit up like this. “She doesn’t clean her dishes after she eats — she piles them up in the sink for like, three days. I don’t think she’s used the vacuum the entire time I’ve been there. I keep finding wrappers and packets and mismatched socks everywhere —” 

His snort of laughter rolls off the back of his throat rather ungraciously and he settles back into his chair. You gently bump his ankle under the table with your foot, beaming at him. “I’m serious! I can’t live like this, Jihoon. I can’t!”

The more you speak, the less he can control the fits he’s descended into, and his abs start to ache after a while; there’s desperation in your voice but it’s just wrapped up so cutely in your lighthearted frustration and decoratively tied together with your sunshine smile… he can’t help it — he’s in pieces. It’s okay though, because you’re laughing too: it makes him think of fairies again, and he can picture you with dainty, intricately patterned wings under the soft lighting in the café. He wipes the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand as he starts to calm down, taking a few deep breaths all the way into his stomach.

“You’re so much stronger than I am,” he says.. “I couldn’t deal with that.”

“You know, I had a feeling you’d be a clean person, too,” you say, sipping at your coffee again. “I mean… I’ve never seen you use the gym showers, so I wasn’t sure, but…”

“Hey,” he says, mock-defensively. “I don’t trust the locks, okay? I shower at home!”

Your cup is lifted to your mouth and he can only see you from the nose upwards, but by the creases at the corners of your eyes, he knows you’re concealing a smile behind it as you nod back at him.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and then somehow becomes thirty — Jihoon starts feeling like you’re someone he’s known for years, and not just the person he accidentally ended up paying attention to in the gym just a couple of weeks ago. He bounces off you and you bounce off him. Both of you have long-since finished your drinks, too: there’s no real reason for either of you to still be here.

Except the obvious. 

“So, the apartment,” Jihoon says, leaning forwards again with his elbows resting on his knees. “Is it…?” He makes a few circular gestures with his hands with which he tries to imply something to the effect of ‘local’, or ‘nearby’, but he can’t quite bring himself to say that out loud. You seem to catch on though. Somehow.

Then again, you did say — a few subject changes ago — that Jihoon is on your wavelength. Maybe that’s it.

“About… a fifteen minute walk from here? Give or take,” you say, and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead so fast it’s like they’re on strings, being controlled by someone else. He doesn’t realise for a few seconds, by which point he isn’t even sure how to relax them. 

“No way?” he says, trying to feign nothing more than an idle interest. Obviously, he’s soaring. 

“Yeah. I’ll want to get back training soon, too, so there’s some incentive to get this done quickly. I miss it,” you tell him.

Jihoon comes out with what he says next without thinking. His mouth is moving before fully engaging his brain. It’s the coffee jitters. Apparently.

“Well, if you need any help with anything, I’ve got a car.”

“You’re too sweet,” you say. “I really couldn’t put you out like that, but…”

“You wouldn’t be,” he assures you with a shrug. “If I’m not working or in the gym… I’m never really that busy. It’s up to you, but-… I’d be happy to.”

You bite the inside of your lip for a moment, apparently mulling this over, before wiggling in your seat to pull your phone out of the front pocket of your jeans. You unlock the device and hand it over on a ‘new contact’ screen. 

Jihoon goes completely stupid: he thinks his brain stops functioning as he takes it to put his number in — for a moment, he’s staring dumbstruck, struggling to even remember the order of the digits now he’s under pressure, but it comes back to him eventually. His thumbs dart across the screen and he checks, double checks and triple checks that he’s typed it right before placing it back in your waiting palm. 

His fingertips brush against yours and it tickles, sending small shockwaves up his arms and straight into his chest. You smile down at your phone before glancing up at him.

“You need an emoji,” you tell him, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Huh?”

“Everyone in my contacts has one — I’ve been doing this since I was in high-school. You need to pick one, too.”

“Oh, uh-…” Jihoon swallows, and for some reason he’s completely forgotten every single little emoticon option there is. He draws a blank. “I can’t — you pick one for me. I don’t know.”

You narrow your eyes at him for a second, pouting your lips as you seem to scroll through the endless options. Now and again, you look up at him, as if trying to see what best fits him before you continue your search. He waits. And waits. And waits. He’s about to throw in an admittedly useless suggestion of some sort of boring animal when you turn your phone around to show him what you’ve chosen.

Jihoon, the contact name reads. And there’s the little angel face next to it.

“Oh, come on,” he says, blushing deeply. “You can’t be serious.”

“I totally am,” you say proudly, turning it back and pressing to save it. He hides his face in his hands. “If you won’t pick your own, you get what you’re given. You did this to yourself.”

“Wow,” he chuckles weakly, sliding his hands up into his hair and raking it back off his face. Your eyes move quickly across every inch and boy, does he notice. You shrug in response and test it, sending the same little emoticon to him. He blushes harder when it comes through and he saves your number into his own phone before placing it face-down on the table. 

More than an hour after buying your coffee, Jihoon stretches his arms above his head and checks the time on his watch. He frowns slightly, not sure how the afternoon got away from him so fast, and lets out a sigh.

“I think I need to get going,” he says reluctantly. Leaving you is absolutely the opposite of what he wants to do, actually. Alas, “I have some friends coming over tonight.”

“Yeah — yeah, of course,” you smile, leaning to one side to pick your bag up off the floor. “No worries.”

You both move to stand up and he throws his coat over his arm, leading the way out. He holds open the door for you to leave first, then follows you outside into the afternoon sun. 

“It was really nice to see you,” you say, turning to face him. 

“You too,” he agrees. “Text me if you need anything, okay? But actually do. Don’t just say you will?”

You laugh sweetly. Fairies. His ears might have actually caught fire this time. “Okay, okay. I promise. I’ll text you — thank you.” There’s a pause, but only a tiny one. “And for the coffee, too.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, waving it off. You shake your head. He thinks your hands are twitching when you stuff them into your pockets but he can’t be sure. Your breath definitely stutters, though. 

“No, really. Um… next one’s on me?” 

He blinks, and blinks again. Next one? The next one? He feels like he’s malfunctioned and been forcibly rebooted. The next one? 

“I-…” he starts, his throat dry. “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” You nod, smiling with — what he doesn’t realise is — relief. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah — I’ll see you, y/n.”

—————

Jihoon has no choice but to admit defeat to the group chat that night when Seungcheol and Jeonghan come over for a takeout.

Within minutes, his oldest friend is asking about the girl from the gym — he’s been just as relentless as Seokmin and Soonyoung in quizzing Jihoon, except it’s slightly harder to deny to Seungcheol because he did witness, first-hand, the way you had his friend tripping over his own feet with a single smile. At first, Jihoon tries to shrug it off. Play it down. Change the subject. He doesn’t mention that he’s actually spoken to you since he and Cheol trained together, or that he accidentally bumped into you and paid for your coffee, or that you stayed talking with him for as long as you did. He definitely doesn’t say that you exchanged phone numbers. 

He absolutely won’t confess to being smitten. 

All Jihoon willingly admits to is that from what he’s seen of you around, you seem nice, and with a roll of his eyes he does agree that he thinks you’re attractive. He gets a bit of a glare later in the evening when  Jeonghan asks if he’s thought about where he wants to take you on your first date, and Jihoon tells him to stop asking stupid questions and eat his chicken before he eats it for him. But all in all he thinks he evades the worst of it pretty well. For now, anyway — he knows their pestering isn’t going away any time soon. 

Especially not when, on their way out, Seungcheol leans close and whispers that whatever is going on with his gym crush, it suits him. Jihoon jabs him on the arm and the two men leave, laughing brightly.

It’s about an hour after his friends have gone home, having washed the dishes and cleaned up his apartment that Jihoon is sitting on his living room floor doing a few lower body stretches before he turns in for the night. He finds himself tapping into your text thread — not for the first time this evening — and skimming over the short conversation you had earlier. You messaged him when you got back to your friend’s place to thank him for the third time, and Jihoon replied back telling you that if you didn’t stop being silly, he was never going to respond to you again. Your reply came in the form of a “:(“ and his was a simple “:)”. That was it, but he’s been thinking about the exchange ever since. 

He’s not sure why. Nor is he certain what about that has him looking down at the messages and grinning like a fool in his apartment, alone, at 10:30pm on a Sunday night. He could probably take a stab in the dark at what it means, though. He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand as he changes conversations and types out a short message with the other. 

jihoon: fine. you’re right. 

seokmin: ?

soonyoung: probs true, does need context

jihoon: about the gym girl. you’re right. 

soonyoung: OH

seokmin: Hahahahahaha

seokmin: Yeah, you’re definitely the last to know, dude

soonyoung: fr even chan and hansol know atp lmao 

jihoon: they what?

jihoon: how do they know?

jihoon: they don’t go to my gym! i haven’t seen them in weeks!

soonyoung: because we told them????? 

seokmin: So, we might have told everyone

jihoon: blocking both of your numbers immediately.

seokmin: Hey! We’re just glad you’ve accepted it

seokmin: When do we get to meet her?

jihoon: blocked.

Well, great, Jihoon thinks as he fights the urge to lay face down on the floor and let the laminate cool his searingly hot cheeks. 

At least he’s admitted it now. 

He’s vaguely confirmed in writing that maybe he has a bit of a thing for you — it’s out in the open and at minimum, two of his friends know that it’s real. Straight from the horse’s mouth. Fingers. Whatever. No doubt by morning, all of his friends will have found out. The point stands that he hasn’t confessed to something like this since he was approximately sixteen years old, so whatever you’re doing to him, whatever this… is, it matters. 

So, he asks himself, standing up off the hardwood floor and stretching his spine, arms locked behind him and pushed back as far as they can go. He turns off all the lights, checks the front door, goes through the motions to get himself ready for bed. So… what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

—————

Come Monday evening, he’s about ready to hit the roof.

As far as bad days go, Jihoon thinks he’s in the running for one of the worst ever. He slept awfully, tossing and turning through the night despite the usual winning combination of freshly washed bed sheets and his white noise machine drowning out the occasional disturbance from the street below. He wakes up two minutes before his alarm is due to go off, only to discover he fell asleep before plugging his phone in to charge overnight, and it’s sitting at a very risky 13%. The gel he uses to keep his hair off his face at work has gone weird and only does half a job, strands tumbling back in front of his eyes the second he goes to leave his apartment, very nearly forgetting his keys. Then, to really put the cherry on top, he sees that — at some point between getting home yesterday and now — someone has scraped his car while parking up next to him. There’s a large scratch right down the passenger side, with no note nor reliable CCTV in his apartment’s parking lot to confirm who it was, and of course, the space is currently empty. 

All this before he even gets to work.

He fundamentally knows that starting the week off with a bad attitude will only lead to a really shitty remainder, but when Vernon sends his routine ‘Monday Motivation’ booster message — “you’re going to have a great day, today!” — into the group chat, Jihoon responds with a crude photo of his middle finger, right in front of the massive scuff on the bodywork of his Hyundai. Jeonghan replies with an ‘oof’, Wonwoo with a ‘yikes’, and Joshua, ever the comedian, sends a picture of Garfield lying face-down captioned ‘Mondays’ that nobody replies to. All responses feel kind of appropriate. But he pockets his phone without sending anything else, sighing again; he locks the car and checks the handle just in case before he finally heads into the building.

It’s going to be a long day. He just has to get through it.

Things don’t necessarily improve. He ends up in and out of meetings all day, so when 5 o’clock rolls around and he’s on his way out the door, he’s feeling a bit like he’s done nothing of actual value. Just, for some reason, thinking about you and tapping out a catchy beat on the top of his desk as he pretends to pay attention to useless presentation after useless presentation. But it’s still somehow been exhausting on his brain and on the drive back to his apartment, Jihoon feels so drained that he contemplates skipping the gym altogether and going straight to bed. This internal argument takes up most of his journey, but it does keep him occupied during the rush-hour traffic if it does nothing else. 

Nothing has ever been fixed by ruining a perfectly good routine, however — so no sooner than he’s back in his apartment, he changes out of his button-down and trousers and into his regular gym gear. His protein shaker is ready on the counter for when he’s home again, the lights are off, his bag is on his shoulder and the door is locked. He pushes against it a few times, checking out of habit, despite the fact that his only neighbours on this floor are Soonyoung, Seokmin and an elderly couple with a cat they’re not technically supposed to have. Nobody tells, though, because Boots has become everyone’s emotional support animal. The only actual security threat is Seokmin maybe stealing something from his fridge, but he’s only ever satisfied after the third test anyway. 

A quick warmup and a few easy stretches later, Jihoon sets about his business. Mondays are for training legs (and often, as a result, incapacitating himself for the rest of the week), and these workouts are always some of his most intense.

So intense, in fact, that he’s sweating buckets and cherry red when he steps away from the squat rack, tugging up the hem of his t-shirt to dry his face, a brief flash of his toned abdomen on full view. He’s just about catching his breath when he glances in the mirror, and his knees nearly give out when he sees you walking in. You lock eyes and smile at him in the reflection as you start to walk towards him.

It’s not just any smile, but he’s way too flustered to notice.

He spins around to face you, mortally embarrassed that you definitely just saw that, but in a weird way… kind of elated? You drop your headphones to sit around the back of your neck to greet him as you get closer. He pushes his hair back off his forehead and tries to act as cool as he can, but Jihoon suddenly becomes incredibly aware of everything about himself in this moment: his posture, how his arms hang by his sides, the exact positioning of his feet. The fact that he’s breathing pretty deeply, that his pulse is so loud in his ears that he can see your lips moving but can’t quite hear what you’re saying.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit — you’re talking. Focus. He needs to focus. 

“Sorry — what was that?” he asks, eliciting a soft laugh from you.

“I like your shirt,” you repeat, a fraction clearer. Jihoon glances down at himself, at the same sweatpants and tight black workout top he wears in here several times a week, and looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. God, he lets himself think for half a second, entertaining his own stupidity with the idea that you’re finding this as hard as he is, too. Maybe I’m not alone in this. 

“Oh?” he says. “Um — thank you?”

“How’d it go with your friends last night?” you ask, hardly skipping a beat, and he’s a little thankful that you skim over his poor attempt at gratitude for a compliment he isn’t sure he deserves. Instead, his confusion wraps itself around the fact that you actually remembered what he was doing last night. Hell, even he’d forgotten in the heat of the day he’d had, but you remembered. He’s sweating over it a little and briefly wonders what the chances are of the gym floor opening up and swallowing him whole.

Slim, he decides. But not zero. 

There’s hope.

“Yeah — yeah, it was nice,” he says, internally kicking himself for overthinking this so much that he’s apparently lost his ability to speak. In the space of 24 hours, he’s gone from giggling over coffee with you to completely weak just at the sound of your voice. It should be easier here, if anything — this is home turf for him. His comfort space. He supposes the tight fit of your gym clothes accentuating your hips and thighs isn’t helping matters, and neither is the wide neckline of your own t-shirt exposing your throat and a collarbone. But still. He’s not a teenager. He should be able to handle a little bit of skin. 

He clears his throat, rolling his head side-to-side. Focus. “Sorry — I’m-… I just didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I-… couldn’t stay away. Missed it a little too much.”

“I get that,” he concurs, willing his eyes not to drop down your frame to a newly exposed area of skin just around your waist, your t-shirt riding up as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. “It’s good to-… have you back, anyway.”

“Good to be back,” you agree. “Hey — can you leave that set up for me, when you’re done? I’m on legs today, too.”

Jihoon doesn’t want to say that he knows Mondays are your leg days, as well, so he doesn’t. Even if it is true. He wonders if you would find it odd that he’s remembered. “Sure,” he says with a small smile, which you return. Just as you’re about to walk off to drop your things into a locker, he pipes up again. “I mean — hey, if you wanted a spot, or to-… do, you know… anything…”

“Are you asking me to train with you?” you ask, eyes bright and smile wider than he thinks he’s ever seen it. This is torture. He’s not even lifting anything and his heart is about to burst out of his fucking chest — God, maybe this was a bad suggestion.

“I-…” he starts, but he lets the breath out of his lungs and shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah. I am.”

“Give me two minutes,” you agree, hurrying off to put your stuff away and fill up your bottle.

He manages to squeeze another set of squats in before you get back, which is sort of a miracle seeing as how his knees have gone completely weak ever since you arrived. He’s scrolling through his playlist as you cross the gym floor on your way back to him, but he looks up and smiles as you approach. 

“You go ahead — I’ve just finished.”

He knows he’s really fucking done for when, after the first round, you add plates onto the bar to out-lift him. All before he’s even positioned himself behind you to be a good spotter.

Jihoon doesn’t go down without a fight though, and things get a little competitive from there. Both of you throw some of your favourite (see: most agonising) exercises into the mix over the course of the hour, taking it in turns on the equipment and creating a session that just about has him able to move by the time you’re finished. You talk to each other when you’ve got the breath to do so, otherwise focussing on your workout with more intensity than either of you remember training with for a long time. 

And so what if he has to turn away from you once or twice to compose himself when breathless whines spill from between your lips on your last few reps, the sheer effort of the movements pushing your muscles to their absolute limit? So what if he feels his entire body run a thousand degrees every time you sweetly encourage him to manage just one more? So what if his palm stays tingling for fifteen seconds every time you high-five him for a set well done?

You slide out of the hamstring curl machine with a deep breath and legs like two sticks of jelly at the end of the session, and he holds a hand out to steady you as you regain your ability to weight-bear.

“You okay?” he asks, and you nod, patting what’s exposed of your chest and neck with your towel. 

“Yeah. Yeah — just… fuck.” You laugh, laying your hand over the top of his and squeezing. Only for a second — not even, only for a breath — and really just to let him know that you’re okay to stand on your own, but Jihoon feels a bit like he’s been electrocuted straight up his arm all the same. “You don’t come to play, do you?”

“Says you,” he scoffs, only now moving his hand from your upper arm. “I was wrong about you — you’re insane. Clinically insane.” 

Using the paper towels he went to gather while you were finishing up, he wipes the machine clean as you stretch out your now slightly exercise-swollen thighs. 

“I was just gonna finish up on one of the stairmasters,” you tell him, taking a long sip of your water. His eyes widen to the point of comedy, eyebrows high on his forehead. You snicker at his horror, the rim of your bottle hovering tantalisingly over your bottom lip. “What?”

“That’s-… got to be a form of masochism,” he says, exhausted just at the idea of marching up the never ending staircase even for a minute. You almost choke on your mouthful of water, only just swallowing it in time before a sudden, uncontrollable laugh erupts from your chest. 

“How?!” you ask, covering your mouth with your hand. Just like yesterday, the urge to pull your arm away, to reveal your hidden smile strikes him. He doesn’t act on it, but he wants to.

“What do you mean, how? Why would you put yourself through that after what you’ve just done?” It’s completely lighthearted, and the rush of heat on your cheeks intensifies at the cocktail of shock and awe in his gaze.

You shrug your shoulders once. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just better than you.” The way the tip of your tongue teasingly sits between your teeth as you grin at him sends bullets of adrenaline through his veins and Jihoon runs his hand over his face.

For about three seconds, he tells himself he isn’t going to take the bait. He’ll lose, he’ll admit it — he’ll put his hands up and say you’re absolutely, definitely better than he is, if it means he doesn’t have to push through a round of cardio after surpassing every single one of his physical limits. But God, he thinks you look completely irresistible standing there challenging him like this, your hands on your hips. His eyes don’t leave yours and yours don’t leave his; both of your chests stutter, just a little bit, and he can see your smile grow in his periphery.

How the fuck is he supposed to walk away?

“Ten minutes,” he concedes, matching your footsteps as you start to walk backwards towards his least favourite line of equipment in any gym, ever. “And you’re definitely getting the next coffee, now.”

——————

That Friday, you finally text him again.

His muscles have just about returned to a working state and Jihoon is quite proud to say that he has regained the ability to sit down without needing something to hold onto. He got home from work, showered the day away and has just settled down into the sofa to start on the book Wonwoo has been on his ass about reading when his phone vibrates on the side table. He reaches over for it, trying to figure out which of his friends might be trying to get hold of him early evening on a Friday, and already going over excuses in his head as to why he can’t go out to do whatever they’re inviting him to. But when your contact name flashes up on the screen, every single thought disappears from his brain.

y/n: hey :)

y/n: just out of interest, how good are you at assembling furniture?

He furrows his brows at this. There’s a very obvious answer, which is that he’s not. He doesn’t want to reply saying so, though, so he goes for what he thinks is the next best thing.

jh: well…

jh: what are you trying to put together?

y/n: a bed :(

y/n: today’s your rest day, right?

y/n: can i bribe you with dinner after? :)

Oh? His brain stalls, fingers hovering over the keypad. He can literally see your face forming a little pout before growing into a hopeful grin in his mind’s eye. He doesn’t see how he could ever say no. 

jh: apparently yes, you can.

jh: text me the address? i’ll leave in 5.

He changes out of his basketball shorts and hoodie in record time, abandoning Wonwoo’s book on his couch in favour of attempting to look at least somewhat presentable for you. He tugs on a pair of jeans that he hasn’t touched in about 6 months and one of his nicer t-shirts instead, even going as far as to spritz aftershave on the column of his throat. You’ve sent him your address and he makes to leave, doing his regular essential item pat-down on his way out the door. He puts your new apartment into his phone as he crosses the parking lot, stupidly delighted to discover it’s only 7 and a half minutes away from where he lives, and settles into his car with a series of deep exhales.

The breathing exercises don’t achieve much. His head is still spinning when he parks up in the street by your new place and lingers just outside the building. He sends you a text to say he’s arrived and you reply saying you’re on your way down. You appear in the lobby just a few minutes later.

“Hey,” you greet him warmly, crossing the space and putting your arms around him in a hug. He goes limp for a fraction of a second before his arms slide around you, too. God, he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat right now. He thinks that the effect you have on him should be considered dangerous. But whether you can or not, you tighten your arms to squeeze him once before you unwind them from around his neck and step away. 

“Hi,” he says, feverish from the tops of his ears all the way down to his toes. His hands find his pockets as you take a few more polite steps back.

“Thank you so much for this.” Your bottom lip finds temporary home between your teeth before you’re nodding back towards the stairwell. “I’m on the third floor. Follow me.”

He does. He walks up the stairs behind you as you ask about his day at work, and he tells you that he thinks today has probably been one of the best he’s had in about 2 months. When he asks how your day went, you turn your head back to look at him and stumble on the next step, gently laughing and saying that you think you’re at your tether’s end with D.I.Y, but it’s been pretty good otherwise. By the time you reach your floor, his thighs are aching, a bit of residual fatigue from your session earlier in the week making it a little harder than it ought to be. He can’t imagine how you’ve coped every day since then; if his own building didn’t have an elevator, Jihoon thinks he’d have been sleeping in his car.

You give him a little tour of the apartment, and he stands next to you at the window as you point out where you were staying with your friend a few blocks away. He thinks the view is seriously pretty in the evening light, enchanted by how he can see the tops of the slightly lower buildings and the street below, lined with neon storefronts and currently alive with shoppers and bar-goers, but… He cringes at himself for thinking it, but the view through the glass is nothing compared to the one he has inside. 

You’ve started to put up a few decorations and knick-knacks around the place too. He doesn’t know you very well, but he still thinks it’s very you — all of it, and he likes them. Even with the room full of boxes and half-unpacked cases, there’s so much personality in it already. Charm. He brushes off your attempts to apologise for the ‘mess’, as you called it, despite everything being neatly pushed out of the way of the main space. It’s easily tidier than any other mid-move apartment he’s ever been in. 

“Did you want a drink?” you ask him, walking over to the refrigerator and resting a hand on the door. “I’ve got wine, or-… anything, really.” 

“Just some water would be great,” he says appreciatively, and a few seconds later you’re handing him a bottle, turning another one over in your hand. “I really wouldn’t be much help after a couple of glasses, trust me.”

“Does this mean you are good at it, then? Before a drink?” you ask him. Is it hope in your voice? Or do you somehow know how hopeless he is, and are you teasing? He can’t tell. Regardless, clearly his evasion earlier wasn’t quite as successful as he hoped it would be.

“About that…” He chuckles, taking a sip from the bottle and glancing sideways at you. “I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll figure it out.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you say with a laugh, closing your fingers around his wrist and leading him through the door to your bedroom. You’ve managed to separate all of the individual pieces, but you haven’t made any real progress otherwise. He settles himself down on the floor and reaches for the assembly manual, pursing his lips as he looks at the little baggies of screws and bolts and various other things he doesn’t know the names of.

“Okay.” He frowns, looking back up at you where you’ve kneeled down a couple of feet away. You’re grinning innocently back at him, but Jihoon’s lips are more aligned with a pout. “You maybe should have mentioned that the instructions are in Swedish.”

——-

Ignoring the fact that you can’t understand the directions printed on the flimsy little pieces of paper, you get to work. It’s… an interesting process, but somehow between the pair of you, you successfully manage to assemble the bed in just under two hours by mostly following the diagrams (and having to backtrack several times because Jihoon managed to miss a few steps). At three minutes to nine, you’re both finally standing up off the floor, stretching out stiff joints and tight muscles; the bed is fully assembled and made up with your sheets in the centre of the room, headboard against the back wall, the lamp you set on the dresser casting a pleasant orangey glow on every surface.

“We did it,” you say, a little in shock, a lot exhausted, and absolutely starving. At least, that’s what he assumes you’re feeling, because it’s what he is. “We actually did it.”

“I mean, you did most of it,” Jihoon says. It’s true; at a point, he was just handing you the pieces you asked him for and holding parts steady so that you could fit them together. But if you want to call it a joint effort, he isn’t going to stop you, and the roll of your eyes tells him that you do want to call it that. 

“Shh. You helped,” you scold him, bumping his upper arm with your elbow. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“If you say so,” he chuckles, taking another sip of his water. Jihoon isn’t sure he believes you, but the way you’re challenging him to argue further with your tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek scrambles his brain. Any remaining argument dies on his lips. “We make a good team.”

“We do,” you agree, expression shifting into a shy smile, bumping his arm again, your elbow lingering against him for a second longer. “Come on, I think I promised to feed you, too. What are you in the mood for?”

A movie has been playing in the background for about an hour by the time your food arrives and you’ve eaten everything. Jihoon relaxes back against the cushions of the couch and you’re settled comfortably next to him: there’s plenty of space on either side of you both, so there isn’t really any need for you to have your upper arm basically pressing against his, but Jihoon is too comfortable to say anything and you certainly aren’t making any attempts to move away. You shift your legs after about ninety minutes, bringing them up underneath you so your thigh is pressed against his now, as well, and you’re twisted slightly so you’re physically facing him but your head is still turned towards the TV.

Everywhere your clothed body touches him is scorching, and he wonders if maybe he should’ve worn a thinner t-shirt, or at the very least something a little less heavy on his legs. His jeans, slightly tighter around the thighs than perhaps would be their peak level of comfort, are clinging to him everywhere and he’s so aware of himself, so aware of you, of your sweet body wash, your fruity shampoo, every single one of your breaths… He’s cursed people out for breathing too loudly around him before, but he thinks he could replace his white noise machine with an eight hour track of just this and he would sleep like a fucking baby.

One of your elbows is propped against the top of the cushions behind you and you’re resting your head in your palm, and (not for the first time this evening) he glances sideways to look at you. They’ve been fleeting glances thus far, only stealing fractions of a moment before he turns his attention back to the TV. But this? This is the wrong moment. Entirely the wrong fucking moment because as his head turns, so does yours, and you catch him in the act. Fuck, if he thought he was burning up, before? He’s pretty sure he’s somehow just descended straight to the second circle of hell, greeting all the other lusty sinners like old friends. Several of his thoughts tonight have been considerably impure, and in this half second of blistering eye contact, they all come rushing back.

The universe is really testing him this evening, and Jihoon is stumbling. It feels like any minute now, he’s going to explode.

He straightens his spine and looks back at the TV, trying to force his eyes to focus even though he’s completely swallowed by the feeling of your arm straightening across the back of the couch, your fingertips grazing over the skin at the bottom of his hairline. He can feel your eyes still on him, your gaze burning into his cheek, no doubt following as his tongue darts out subconsciously over his lips. But he can’t quite help himself, can’t get the image of how sweet you looked out of his head; he clears his throat quietly and looks over at you again, coming over almost completely blank the second he notices the glimmer your eyes hold when they’re trained on him. 

Any. Fucking. Minute. 

“Jihoon, I-…” you start to say, and he turns himself a little bit so that he’s facing you better, completely forgetting about the movie now. That’s not a great loss: he couldn’t explain the plot even if he tried. “I don’t know if-… you can tell me if I’ve read you wrong…”

“You haven’t,” he hurries. Relief starts to ease the tension between your brows, before you scrunch them again and cock your head to the side. “I’m sure you haven’t, I mean.”

In this new position, one of his legs is bent and sitting up on the couch beneath him and you’ve adjusted your own posture to accommodate. Your knee sits just over the top of his, more of your impossible body heat radiating through his clothes, and he glances down at the site of contact before he looks back at you. 

“I just-... I don’t know, I think I knew I was interested in you from the first time I saw you, but the last few weeks especially…” You’ve been rehearsing this. He can feel it. It’s written in your eyes, holding the weight of the words you’re struggling to say, and behind them he can see cogs turning as you try to get the words in the right order. (He knows how that goes, because he’s been trying to figure out how to tell you, too.) He nods, urging you to keep going.

“I can’t get you out of my head. I really like you.”

He short-circuits, then. Even though part of him knew what you were going to say, hearing it out loud flips a switch inside him and he stops functioning. Blinking at you slowly, lips parted, heart racing – he feels as if his brain has been sucked clean out of his ears and is floating somewhere way above his head. Way outside of a contactable range, way beyond any level of rational decision-making. Jihoon knows what he wants to say, of course – he knows that he wants to say that he likes you, and that he has for a while, and that maybe you should let him take you out on a date or something, but all of that sits just behind the barrier of his teeth, so…

He leans forward and kisses you, instead.

He almost can’t believe that he’s only wanted this for as short of a time as he has; it feels like it’s been building inside him for so much longer. Relief floods through his veins, the emotional dam finally breaching. It only lasts a few seconds, but with his lips pressed to yours and yours pressing back, the static in his brain goes quiet, the movie falls silent: everything stops, except you. He thinks you could’ve been carved from stone around each other — he thinks something just feels so inexplicably right. Your hand tightens in his hair and he gasps softly as he pulls an inch back, eyes heavily lidded and looking straight at you through his lashes. You move forward, leaning your forehead against his, and the feather-light hold he has on your chin slides up to your cheek instead. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to-…” he says after a long, long moment of remembering how to breathe, how to blink, how to exist in your space without combusting on the spot. He still isn’t sure he knows how to do any of those things, especially not now he can see every single line of your face this close. He’s trying, though. “But — shit, I’m crazy about you.”

You kiss him, then, harder than before, colliding in a mess of half-finished breaths and bumped, stinging noses. His other hand comes up to sit against your rib cage, yours pressing into the material of his t-shirt over his chest. He smiles and parts his lips as yours move against them, your tongue gently sweeping into his mouth, finding his own; a soft, low moan tickles the back of his throat, his fingertips curling slightly to tighten his hold. 

Jihoon isn’t sure how you end up on your knees, straddled astride his legs with one of his hands tucked between your thigh and calf, the other on the curve of your ass — he just knows that he doesn’t mind one bit. You’re warm and comfortable, the arch of your back pressing you into him deliciously. He’s kissing you like his life depends on it (he really fears that it might), and you’re doing the same back, licking against his tongue and rocking slightly with every separation and reconnection of your lips. He feels your fingers brush at the hem of his t-shirt and slip just underneath at the same moment as you pull away from him, and he’s so dazed, so fuzzy, so lost in you that he can only tilt his head back to stare up at your face. In your current position, you’re towering over him. It’s easily the best view he’s ever had.

“Can I-…?” you ask breathlessly. The new roughness to your voice goes straight to his cock and he has to restrain himself from bucking his hips upwards.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning forward slightly to try and aid you. Your hands tug at the bottom of his shirt and peel it up over his chest: he raises his arms slightly and soon, you can toss it to the unoccupied side of the couch. He shivers slightly as he relaxes back, both at the chill in your unheated apartment and upon noticing the way you’re staring down at him. It’s addictive. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper, jaw a little slack, smoothing your hands over his shoulders to feel every ridge of hard-earned muscle. You travel down his arms, over to his chest, down his stomach… Jihoon sucks in a breath, your warm hands absolutely searing against his skin, and his abdominals tighten beneath them. Tilting your head, you press a line of kisses down the side of his neck, your lips brushing against one almost unbearably sensitive spot when you continue. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He smiles bashfully, rolling his head to the side and giving you all the access you want. Your lips tickle euphorically against him as he tugs you flush against his chest, both his hands now tightly pressing against your ass, fingers kneading the muscle concealed by your pants. You’re sitting right over his clothed cock and he’s reasonably sure he can feel your pulse between your thighs, letting out a soft grunt when you roll your hips deliberately down into his own. Your kisses travel to the swell at the curve of his shoulder before moving back up to his lips, where he meets you with a fire that he’s never kissed anyone with, before.

“Says you,” he murmurs into your mouth, your teeth clashing, his hips pushing slightly up off the couch. Just enough to make you sit back from him, just enough for Jihoon to open his eyes and look at you. His hair, thoroughly scrunched up and pulled around by your desperately gripping fingers, fans out at all sorts of angles and his chest has taken on a rosy hue since you last looked at it. With swollen, shiny lips, glossy eyes, breathing deep, he looks completely blissed out, like a man who could unravel beneath you if you moved just right. All from a little tongue action. He’d usually feel embarrassed, but it’s hard to when you’re the person on top of him; to be honest, neither of you would mind much if he did.

You’re pushing yourself up and off him before he can really get his bearings and an audible whine of despair parts his lips at the loss of your weight against his cock. Fuck, these jeans were a bad idea: he’s straining against the denim so much that it hurts, and there’s a near perfect outline of his hard-on. He stops pouting the second you take hold of his hand and tug him upright, though, your eyes dark and determined and intense. He thinks he might faint, actually: from standing too fast and feeling as though all the blood in his body is pulsing through his aching dick, he has to take a moment to stop the edges of his vision going dark before you’re pulling him through to your bedroom.

Something flips inside him the second you have him there. Jihoon, who was more than happy to sit beneath you and let you take all the control in the living room, is pushing you back onto the mattress by your shoulder and slotting himself between your parted thighs the moment the door is closed behind him. He’s past the point of wanting you, now: he needs you, and he needs you to need him, too. 

And God, do you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, staring at where he’s now leaning over you with wide eyes and your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. He bends down and kisses along your jawline in response, nipping gently just below your ear. Your back arches up and in a flash, one of his hands is beneath you, snapping open the clasp on your bra with a few slides of his fingers.

“Wh-…” you start, giggling and panting at the same time. He smirks against your pulse point. 

He flattens his tongue against you and licks a salty bead of sweat off your skin. “What?”

“Had no idea you could-…” You’re cut off by a gasp as one of his hands slides under your sweater, slipping beneath the garment he just unfastened. His fingertips graze over your breast and a pleading sob escapes you. His smile grows even wider. “You were so…”

“So what?” he prompts, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Another one of those beautiful sounds breaks the air above you. He does it again, massaging your breast with the palm of his hand. “Come on… talk to me.”

“So good,” you gasp, lying down flat and tilting your head back against the pillows. He rocks forwards to press his cock against you again and your thighs tighten around his hips, one leg hooking around his to keep him there. “So-… fucking good.”

You’re so impossibly irresistible to him, especially like this, and he sits up, settling on his knees to look down at you. Jihoon doesn’t even get the chance to move his hands towards the hem of your sweater to tug it off you though: you’re already grabbing it yourself, crossing your arms to pull it over the top of your head. He can see your bra now, and hell, it’s pretty even if it is just hanging off you. Baby pink and lacy. He thumbs over the material as he helps you pull it down your arms, briefly letting himself wonder if-…

“If only you’d been patient enough to see the set together.”

Oh, so you can read his mind now, too? 

You glance down to the small space between your bodies and his eyes follow, lips slightly parted, a heavy sigh on his breath. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck — he wishes he had. Even imagining it, he’s throbbing.

“You wear all this for me?” he asks, hands creeping up the insides of your thighs. You nod up at him and he smiles down at you. “Fuck. I bet you didn’t even need my help tonight at all, did you?”

You’re bucking your hips now as his thumb brushes, agonisingly slowly, over your clothed cunt. One arm has come up to cover your face: for the first time, he acts on his impulsive need to see you shy, see you needy, and leans over you to gently pull it away and pins your wrist down against the mattress. He kisses you, his fingers on the other hand pressing slightly more firmly to where he’s pretty sure your clit is.

“Y/n, you’re so pretty. Let me see you.”

“I didn’t,” you admit, voice wobbling as he works you up so much you’re actually soaking through not just your pretty underwear, but the leggings you’ve had on all night, too. He can feel it against the pad of his thumb and he raises his eyebrows for you to continue. “Just… really wanted you to come over…”

“Mhm. I know,” he soothes, bending low again and kissing down towards your chest. His lips purse over one of your nipples and he sucks it up into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bud. He releases your wrist with the hand currently taking most of his weight and leans on his elbow, teasing your other tit with his fingers. The weight of it in his palm has him murmuring soft praises against your skin, telling you over and over how good you feel. You push up onto your elbows to try and press him closer — when his teeth tug just slightly, you’re about ready to beg.

“Jihoon, please,” you murmur. He short-circuits, again. Goes blank. His name has always sounded so much sweeter on your tongue, but this? This? Oh, he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to recover. That sound is going to stick in his head for days, months, forever, if he has anything to say about it. But even if his brain isn’t working, his body moves on autopilot: he sits up and hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your pants down your legs and discarding them onto the floor. 

He’s staring between your thighs with zero functioning brain cells and literal galaxies in his eyes, trying to figure out what cosmic miracle brought someone like you into his life, how on Earth he’s ended up between your thighs. The question is so overwhelming in his mind that he barely notices that you’re moving, at first. Jihoon doesn’t know what causes you to try and bring your thighs together — if it’s shyness or arousal, desperation, a search for friction? — but he stops you as soon as he realises, laying a hand on each of your legs, pinning your knees down now, instead.

“Keep your legs wide for me?” he asks, to which you punctuate a nod with an assenting hum. “Good girl.” 

You’re so wet that when he strokes two fingers over your covered pussy, pressing the fabric of your panties into your heat, they come away thinly coated in the arousal that’s seeped through them. He brings his fingers to his lips then, eyes fluttering as he licks your slick off them. You taste otherworldly and he doesn’t hesitate to tell you so with a groan.

“God,” he murmurs, tugging at the waistband of your panties with his other hand. His eyes ask if you’re ready — if you’re sure, and when you nod down at him, he pulls them off completely too. His middle finger slips between your folds, collecting the wetness dribbling out of you, and he drags it slowly upwards towards your clit. He repositions himself again, leaning down over you with his head at your neck, the heel of his hand resting against your lower abdomen. He draws small circles over the bud, laying open-mouthed kisses at your collarbone and listening to the gorgeous sounds you make, learning what you like, following each gasp and moan and chasing as many of them as he can draw out of you.   

At the same time as you start rocking your hips up to meet his hand, your nails scratching gently against his scalp again, Jihoon slips his finger down from your swollen clit to press it inside you. You gasp, high-pitched and needy, your cunt spasming around his finger and pulling it in deeper. He’s only in up to his second knuckle but the way you keen for him has him pushing further until it’s buried inside your pussy completely. 

“S’this okay?” he asks, but he knows your answer thanks to your vocal responses to him already slowly easing his finger in and out, in and out. You nod your head almost aggressively as he glances up at your face, your eyes squeezed tightly shut, jaw tense, throat bobbing as you swallow hard. 

“More — please,” you say not long after. A breath hitches in your throat when he does exactly what you ask, pressing the heel of his hand against your clit and positioning another finger at your entrance. He flexes his wrist slightly to get comfortable, pumping both fingers into you now, and he curls them upwards at just the right time to make your back arch off the bed. “Fuck — mhm, just like that—…”

He moves down your body slightly, reattaching his lips to one of your nipples as he fingers you deep and slow. He’s in no rush: Jihoon thinks he could do this all day and just deal with the RSI later on. You look so unbelievably hot with your face scrunched in pleasure, your thighs quivering as you fight to keep them apart like he asked you to, with your hips twisting down against his hand to try and get his fingers deeper and faster. When he lowers himself all the way down, settling completely between your thighs, he flicks his tongue out over your clit and your back arches up off the bed with a gasp.

“Don’t stop,” you whine, all high-pitched and rushed, both syllables merging into one hurried sound. “Fuck, fuck — please, don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to,” he murmurs, keeping pace and rhythm as he works you towards your high. God, he thinks there couldn’t possibly be anything in the world more sexy than watching you come undone from this angle. Your chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths, your hips rocking down against his hand, your pussy right on his mouth. Just the thought of it has his cock jumping in his boxers. “You gonna come for me, huh?”

“I-…” you start, releasing your death-grip on the bedsheets to bring a hand to cover your face. He clears his throat deliberately — perhaps it’s sort of closer to a growl than a cough — and he thinks maybe you really can read his mind, or maybe you’re learning that he wants to see every inch of you (especially like this), because a second later, it’s tangled up in his hair and holding him in place. “Y-yeah, fuck, I…”

“Good girl,” he coos again, and that breaks you. Your pussy tightens around his fingers and you feel yourself convulse, muscles clenching and releasing as you go over the edge with a cry. He eases you through your climax, tongue laving over your clit, fingers slowing but not stopping inside your cunt until your thighs close around his head in your oversensitivity. He takes the hint, then, and he slowly pulls away, sucking his fingers clean of your arousal while you take a few breaths to recover.

“Oh, my God,” you sigh as he moves back up and starts pressing small pecks over your chest and collarbones, your fingers lacing through his hair again to pull him up to kiss you. You groan softly at the taste of yourself on his lips, and can’t blame you. He still isn’t over it, either.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he tells you in-between kisses, one hand supporting the back of your neck to keep you close. “So pretty. So sweet. So good.”

“Shh,” you giggle, but he doesn’t. Just about every adoring adjective Jihoon has in his arsenal is murmured against your lips until you’ve gathered enough strength to get up on your knees and push him back onto the mattress, fumbling with the button of his jeans. 

He groans at the relief as you tug them down over his hips and thighs. “We don’t have to do anything else if you’re—”

“Shh.” This one’s a little more insistent, and he makes a show of clamping his lips back together. “You wore the tightest jeans on the planet, had your cock on-fucking-display for me all evening, and you think I wanna stop now?”

His jaw falls slack at the words that come out of your mouth. The incredulous way with which you say them has him involuntarily bucking up into nothing. Your expression matches his when you finally get his jeans all the way off and his thin, black boxer-briefs are the only barrier between you. The outline of his cock strains against them, tenting the fabric: Jihoon doesn’t miss the way you lick over your lips before glancing up at him through your eyelashes. It’s your turn to give him the look, now, asking that this last part is okay, with your fingertips hooked underneath the elastic waistband. He nods feverishly up at your heavy gaze.

“Please,” he groans, lifting his hips so you can pull them off. His length springs free the moment they’re pulled low enough, slapping back against his abdomen, sitting pretty against his toned muscles, thick and veiny and red-tipped. Desperate. His underwear joins the pile of clothes down the side of the bed as you throw one leg over him; sitting across his thighs, you take his cock into your hand, giving it a few gentle strokes. He fucks up into your palm when you squeeze your fingers around it.

“I need you so fucking bad,” you murmur, head spinning, and Jihoon isn’t in much of a better state himself; he’s fighting to keep his eyes open, fighting to keep his breaths coming. He sits upright, one arm behind him for support, and kisses you hard as you continue to tug at his length. 

“Need you, too,” he breathes, shifting so he has both arms around you. In a swift movement, muscles rippling, he lifts you off him and turns you over so he has you sitting on your now impossibly scrunched comforter.

He finds home back between your legs as you reach over into the drawer at your bedside and fumble around for a few seconds. He hears a little clatter and a rustling and when your hand resurfaces, you’ve pulled free a small foil square. You don’t even give him a chance to lean forward and take it; you’re ripping it open and looking up at him with the biggest doe-eyed stare he thinks he’s ever seen. He nods at the silent question, a grunt tumbling free as you roll the condom down his length. This is the most pathetic little bit of contact and he’s fighting demons.

“Okay?” he asks, shuffling back a little and giving you space to lie down flat on your back. You nod up at him, already wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

“Mhm, just-... take it slow?” you ask him, anticipation rendering you already a little breathless. “S’been a while.” 

A grin blooms all the way from his lips to his eyes and he leans down to kiss you again, positioning his tip at your hole and pressing forward just enough to tease.

Your thighs tighten around his hips and he pushes himself further inside you with a stuttered groan, agonisingly slowly, inch by inch. He stills every few seconds, both to give you the time to adjust and so that he can take a steadying few breaths and not collapse at how good you feel wrapped around him; he stops pressing his hips forward before he’s fully sheathed inside your pussy and you let a whine slip, the stretch slowly easing. 

“You can move,” you tell him, laying a kiss to his chest. “I’m okay.” 

Jihoon gives a soft laugh. Oh, he wishes this was just to be polite, but no. He’s in real danger of losing control any second. “Yeah, this isn’t for you, baby.”

“Oh?” you ask. You clamp around him and he gasps at the tightness, hips jerking forward until he’s buried up to the hilt. Fuck, there’s a bruised cervix if you’ve ever had one; a high-pitched whine erupts out of your lips and he ducks his head down to your ear.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You just-... fuck, you feel so good.”

“Mm, says you.” 

It’s another moment before he thrusts with intent, though. But when he does? When he pulls out halfway before sliding all the way back inside you, losing and regaining the feeling of your heat enveloping him entirely, hearing your gasps against his collarbone? The invisible reigns holding him back unravel and he settles into a slow but intensely deep rhythm, guiding your legs around his waist. You hook your ankles behind his back and somehow, you suck him in deeper still, your bodies touching everywhere they possibly can, so impossibly close.

The arm not holding his weight slides beneath your hips and raises them just a little. Now, at this angle, every time he rolls into you he grazes against your sweet-spot and you’re reduced to an incoherent mess within a few minutes. Good, he thinks, because he’s not doing much better, himself.

You hug him tighter after one particularly well-angled thrust, sinking your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder. He hisses at the sting, and your lips part as if you’re about to apologise but he doesn’t give you the chance to; he bumps your nose with his own to ask you to lift your head slightly, before he bends down and kisses you hard.

“Do that again,” he gasps, almost all of his weight against you as the hand not around your hips comes up to rest on your cheek. When your brows tighten, he swipes his thumb over your spit-covered, swollen lips. “Please. ”

So, you do.

Maybe not as harshly as the first time, but your teeth find his collarbone and you suck a bruise into his skin, drawing from him the highest pitched sound you think he could possibly make. He squares his jaw, ducking his head back down, biting on his bottom lip before he has no choice but to speak.

“I’m close, y/n,” he confesses, fucking into you slower, trying to stave it off for a few more seconds, his hips stuttering. “Can-... can you give me one more…?”

You nod, the knot in your stomach already growing tighter and tighter with every movement he makes, and when one of your hands unwinds from around his back to slide between your sweat-slicked bodies, he moves slightly away, letting you reach down.

It’s the sight of two of your fingers finding your clit and rubbing your favourite movements out on yourself that takes him past the point of no return, his cock sliding in and out of you messily, desperately, chasing the high that he’s right on the brink of. He kisses and nips just below your ear, breathy groans tickling your neck, and your high-pitched whine tells him you’ve hit your orgasm just as he starts to spill his into the condom, gushing around him, your walls fluttering and milking him for all he’s worth. 

—

You offer for him to shower first – an offer he gratefully accepts. While you’re taking your turn afterwards, Jihoon hunts down a fresh duvet cover in your room; he changes it, grabs you a glass of water for when you’re done, and sits on the edge of his bed with just the towel wrapped around his waist, scrolling through his phone. He looks up with a bright grin as the door opens and you emerge through it in your pyjamas, glowing from the light behind you, stray droplets of water clinging to your arms. 

You pause gently rubbing your hair dry with the towel, eyes brightening when you see him. “You didn��t have to do all this,” you say, and he pushes a hand through his own still damp hair with a laugh.

“It was the least I could do,” he counters. You raise your eyebrows at him, crossing the room to sit opposite him. He drops his phone down onto the mattress. “I couldn’t leave and make you change them yourself.”

“Leave?” you ask, picking up one of his hands and playing idly with his fingers. 

“I mean, it’s getting pretty late, so…” he says. “I probably need to get going at some point.”

“Or…” you say, tongue darting out over your lips. “Maybe you don’t.”

Jihoon looks down at your hands, then back up at you. Are you suggesting what he thinks you are, or has he still not quite come back to himself from earlier? It’s hard to say if the look on your face is hope, or something else.

“Are you… asking me to stay?” he asks. 

“Only if you want to,” you tell him. He lifts your hands up, pressing a kiss to one of your knuckles, then using it to tug you closer to him until he can plant one on your own lips. “I’ve probably got an old t-shirt you could sleep in.”

“Of course I want to.”

So you slip away from him to go rummaging through your drawers, trying to find the promised article of clothing. The whole time, he’s awestruck. Jihoon can’t take his eyes off you.

——————

He wakes up next to you for the first time on a Saturday morning. His sleep-fogged brain registers lying on an unfamiliar mattress, tucked beneath new bedsheets, eyes fluttering open to take in a room he doesn’t quite recognise at first. Part of him wonders if he’s still dreaming. When he rolls over onto his side, and his eyes land on the curve of your shoulders, the fall of your hair down your back, he has to ask himself the same thing again. 

All of last night must’ve been a dream, he muses, smiling shyly to himself and watching your frame rise and fall with every slow breath you take. There’s no way you really told him you liked him, too. There’s no way any of it could have really happened.

“Y/n?” He asks in the gentlest of whispers, only wanting to stir you if you’re awake already. When there’s no response, he moves a tiny bit closer to you, hesitating before he slips his arm around your waist and settles with his chest pressed against your back. A wildly insecure part of his brain tries to argue that just because you wanted what happened last night, that doesn’t mean you want all of this now. Maybe you only wanted to sleep with him, or maybe you’ll have changed your mind somehow now the sun’s come up. He considers moving away again, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling until you wake up and he can have a real conversation about where both of your heads are at with everything, but he barely gets a chance.

Those thoughts are silenced almost immediately, his brain falling quiet the second you roll over in his arms. You bury your head in the valley between his pectorals, tucked away from the world beneath his chin. His arms tighten around your sleep-warmed body.

“What time is it?” You ask. He contains a shiver at the softness of your voice, bliss running the length of his spine. Jihoon thinks that he could get used to this.

“I don’t know. Early, I think,” he murmurs, and you whine softly, burrowing deeper against his chest. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not if you’re awake,” you say. He’s not entirely convinced you can stick to that promise, though, with the way you yawn and he feels your eyelashes fluttering. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, the tips of his fingers ticking against your side. He ducks his head, pressing a kiss to your hair. A soft hum rumbles in your throat and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads over his lips. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

True enough, you fall back asleep curled up against him and Jihoon, to the sounds of your slowing breaths, drifts off too. A few hours later, at a far more reasonable time, you wake him up with a press of your lips to the tip of his nose.

Innocent, exploratory kisses grow heated in the warmth of the sun that streams through your blinds. Hands start to travel, sleep clothes get discarded, and you have him lying on his back, pressing kisses down his chiselled stomach when his phone starts to vibrate on the floor next to the bed.

He groans at the distraction, again as you shuffle up to sit on your knees and look at him expectantly. 

“Are you gonna answer that?” you ask, the tips of your fingers grazing his thighs. He shakes his head, no. “Come on, Jihoon. It might be important.”

“Not important enough,” he sighs. 

“At least see who it is,” you laugh. Despite a huffed protest, he props himself up on one elbow, leaning over the side of the bed and glancing down at his phone screen.

Seungcheol.

The arrangement to go for a run this morning comes rushing back to Jihoon, who slaps a hand to his forehead and reaches down to grab his phone off the floor, looking at you apologetically.

“Give me two seconds,” he says, and you grin wickedly up at him, ducking low to press a kiss to one of the lines that disappears down into his boxers. 

“Take all the time you need.”

He answers the call frowning, flopping his head back against the pillows. 

“Hey, look – I’m really sorry,” he starts to say, but Seungcheol’s voice cuts him off almost straight away.

“Jihoon, where the hell are you? I got to your apartment and your car wasn’t here, and Seokmin said he didn’t hear you come home last night. We all thought you’d died,” he hurries. Jihoon can picture the expression on the other man’s face perfectly, which is pretty unfortunate seeing as how you’ve moved to start palming his hardening cock through his briefs.

“I stayed out,” Jihoon says, a little wobbly. “I can’t make the run, someth-... shit.” You press an open-mouthed kiss to the outline of his length, the heat of your breath through the fabric sending him into overdrive. “Something came up-...”

The line goes silent for a second, and his breath stutters as you do the same thing again. Each press of your lips is euphoric agony, and he’s really not hiding this as well as he wishes he could. One look down at you tells him that you’re very proud of that.

“Dude,” Seungcheol gasps, snickering suddenly. “Tell me you’re not with a girl right now.”

“Shut up. Go away,” Jihoon grunts. “I’ll call you later.”

“Oh my God, is it gym girl? Did you finally-...”

“Bye, Cheol,” he hurries, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He drops his phone onto the mattress, fake-glaring down at you and shaking his head. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pulling at the waistband of his briefs to tug them down his legs. “Let me make it up to you, huh?”

[freckliedan]

could you expand on your thoughts why you think dan and phil havent always been monogamous? super curious! i kind of get the same vibe.

i'm happy to expand on it tbh! it's something i think and talk a lot about with my friends.

i'm hesitant about going in depth because i've found that's when people find it okay to say deeply shitty things to me, a polyamorous person, under the guise of academic debate/it just being a difference of opinion. but i'm also not going to let the possibility of that stop me?

ANYWAYS.

quite honestly the biggest thing for me is just. taking dan and phil at their word? even when parsing something true through them saying things in silly ways that's the easiest way to be right about them.

we noticed and believed in the underlying truth in their gay jokes before they were out. people are willing to entertain the bondage and mpreg and various other horny jokes as containing some kernel of truth. more people than literally any point in time are willing to believe there's some substance to dan's career-long mentions of gender.

but for whatever reason (mononormativity) the comments about them being attracted to/flirting with/being interested in other people get written off as 100% joking and funny because they're the most monogamous people ever & because they get jealous easily. and that just? sucks.

i think they've always been committed. like, phil brought dan home to meet his parents at their very first christmas together type committed. planning to spend the rest of their lives together from 3 months into the relationship committed.

but also like? that coexists with the fact that dan wasn't able to come out to himself as gay until the lead up to basically i'm gay. 2018 or maybe 2017, i think. @freckliephil or @phulge has brought up the idea to me before that part of why they didn't label their relationship to us in 2019 may have been because they were still in flux with labeling it for themselves.

dan has also always had commitment issues due to how he saw his parents' relationship function/due to his home life growing up and i'm NOT going to elaborate on this one but it is so obvious.

(consider this whole post informed by conversations with aries and roper btw).

i think the idea that dan and phil were secure in their connection but not in a place where they had to (or could, on dan's part) ascribe labels to it in the early years is realistic?

and i think their commitment and security can coexist with the idea of like. "i think it's hot seeing you kiss other people for attention at parties and come home with me". + i genuinely think the fantastic foursome explored each other's bodies on the italy trip. etc.

i definitely think there would've been huge stretches of monogamy, and i do think that there was jealousy before they found their footing and felt comfortable in their commitment. (different rant, but i think most of what gets read as jealousy these days is them dong a bit/possessiveness).

but i think there's also always been points in time where they were either theoretically or in practice fine with having sexual experiences with other people. that wouldn't've really been possible during their deep closet era, and i don't think it was COMMON beforehand.

but i also think that it's definitely something possible after they came out.

i think people hear me say this and assume i'm degrading the incredible and beautiful love and commitment dan and phil share. that i'm reducing queer men's relationships down to sex only.

but like. i'm not fucking doing that! the people making those assumptions are doing that! and saying a lot about how they view non monogamy too!

i'm saying i think they're so secure in their love and relationship that they're literally completely unbothered and not threatened by potentially having an open relationship. devotion is not only present in monogamous relationships.

WAD makes sense as a point of post coming out timing for another open period in their relationship to me. quite honestly i could see phil being the one to suggest it to dan? 2019 thru the close of WAD was dan's self actualization era.

growing up in the context of a single committed relationship does things to you psychologically. your identity formation happens side by side with another person and even if the relationship isn't controlling and toxic you can really lose sight of your individuality, if you're not careful. this is even easier to have happen if you share all of your friends, live together, AND work together. ESPECIALLY if you're significantly closeted in some way.

i know this because i've also lived it. believe me when i say dan NEEDED to figure out who he was as an individual. we saw him do that in several iterations artistically/careerwise. but we also saw his interest in experiencing queer culture in ways he missed out on when he was young and closeted.

so i think dan actually WAS on the apps, when he was touring WAD. i wouldn't be surprised if that was phil's idea, even. a "don't worry, go see the world, we've been open before, i'm not worried you won't want to come home to me, nobody's gonna match your freak like i do". i think phil would've had the option too but probably would've taken it less.

and i think it's like. like they're best friends! it's something they would've been talking about with each other. i think it could've been foreplay to them sometimes. i think it could've been what catapaulted dan into his top era. (this is a seperate essay from drs. frecklie, frecklie and phulge as well).

most importantly we think dan came back from the first leg of WAD having completely exorcised his fear of commitment and. wait i have to find a specific message. nevermind you're getting 3 screenshots without any further context

anyways. i can't find the specific point where we said this so it was maybe an in person conversation but the rest of the idea is that experiencing other options resulted in dan coming back from WAD and proposing. and phil proposing the gaming channel return right back. we 1000% said this before phil mentioned that he's the one who suggested the gaming channel return i just can NOT fucking find receipts on that because we largely voice message.

this has been an entire ramble that touched on a lot of different subjects but. yeah. dan and phil aren't polyamorous in the "both dating another person as a couple/other people as individuals" sense nor will they ever be. but there's sooo much room between that and strict monogamy.

and a lot of that in between is in perfect alignment with the ways they've talked about their lives over the years and is yet another extension of them having a level of trust love and intimacy in their relationship that most people will never experience. so

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[romanscool]

Hey I love ur stories so I was wondering if u could give me recommendations for the best AO3 MAXIEL stories you've read if u don't mind, thnx 💜💜

hi anon! thank you so much for this ask!! I always love recommending maxiel stories,,,

i have way too much, but I've tried to skim through them and pull out the ones I could read over and over again without ever being bored of it. so anyways, here you go, my fav 13 maxiel fics in no particular order:

I know your name (but not who you are) by @prongsofficial (rated G)

“Hi, Daniel,” the man at his door says, tentative with a sideways smile. There’s sweat on his hairline and two cage-like boxes in his hands. He hears a meowing come out of them when he shifts to set them down. “Max,” Daniel breathes out, floored and caught in the way Max rubs at his own arm awkwardly. Max just smiles. -- Based on the Stick Season (Forever) album by Noah Kahan

a hauntingly beautiful nine-chapter non-linear fic about what could've happened if Daniel had to retire after his hand injury in Zandvoort 2023. Gorgeous. Just the right amount of angst, fluff and crushing dialogues.

dead heat by @powerful-owl (rated E)

"Oh my god. Okay, you’re an alpha. Yeah, Max? You’re an alpha?” Max looks up, tongue lapping at the webbing between Daniel’s fingers. He waits for his thoughts to print into words: paper roll unfurling, sticky nozzles stamping please, need, yours. He just nods. “You’re an alpha.” Daniel laughs, reedy and weird. “Max, what the fuck. Why are you on your knees?”

I'm not usually into a/b/o fics but this one. this hit and still hits me everyday. I have read it almost three times now (keep in mind this is a 35-chapters/200k words fic) and I can't believe how well written it is. the smut is beautiful, angsty and punch-to-the-gut. worth every seconds spent reading it. I also really liked the fact that this is not your traditional a/b/o dynamics, with the little weak omega getting roughly fucked by perma-rut alpha. nope. it's so much more.

breaking every rule for you by @magicalrocketships (rated E)

Daniel's always been competitive. He's never backed down from a challenge, even if it's one he doesn't understand the rules of and doesn't remember signing up for. But he knows this: if Max sends him a dick pic, then Daniel sends one back. Or, it’s Daniel's first year at Renault, and Max hasn't spoken to him in months.

soul-cushing, kink-finding, whatever the fuck even fic. no words to describe this one I think. it's messed my brain up. anyway. 200k words of max and Daniel being idiots, max with a girlfriend he doesn't love and Daniel not accepting he's in love with max. all that while sending dick pics everyday. hot. beautiful. made me cry and bite into my own arm because of how I wish I could just grip both their heads and smash them like barbies so they can kiss.

that's where I am by @flawlessassholes (rated E)

“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly. Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore. “Short for Emilian.” His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say— Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.

There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.

daniel has a baby and max learns how to deal with that. all that while Emily (dan's kid) is the cutest baby ever. made my heart ache in the best way, had me having a baby-fever for 8 chapters. the smut is gorgeous, the story had me weeping and I could not believe how someone could even come up with such a well-rounded idea. gorgeous.

haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? by vivienne_xoxo (rated E)

Daniel is on the verge of quite possibly nothing in his last year of high school. Max is on the verge of everything in his sophomore year. The one thing that connects them is soccer, squash, and track and field. Being at different schools, they only see each other once per season for games. However, they find themselves meeting in the spaces between, unknowing of what it all really meant. As Daniel nears graduation with a GPA of a whopping 2.0, a sexuality crisis, and a blonde twisted in his bedsheets and his brain, the one thing he really knows is that he's so, so fucked. OR: A sports rivals with benefits, strangers to lovers Maxiel fic that no one really wanted. Literally just the school I go to right now but with changed names.

everything a teen!maxiel fic could ever want to be. teens in love, max and Daniel going through everything that comes with that. sexuality crises all over the place, hormones, too. love it. this is the fic that made me want to start my own teen!maxiel. it's funny, angsty, has way too many crack-worthy dialogue. I love it.

a sure thing by @thewindowatkirkland (rated E)

Afterwards, once they’ve headed back inside on unsteady legs and showered in Max’s insane ensuite, Daniel pulls on his clothes and watches Max do the same. He’s always quieter after sex, once the adrenaline and dopamine have receded some. Daniel gets it, the whole hooker thing is more awkward for most people once the fucking is actually over. “How much do you charge for a full night?” Max asks, after he transfers the fee for today, the little notification pinging on Daniel’s phone. M. E. Verstappen has sent you a payment. Daniel doesn't bother to check the amount, Max will have rounded it up to the nearest thousand anyway, just like he always does. OR: daniel is an escort, max is a five time world champion, and also one of his regular clients. (aka, the hooker!dan au)

gorgeous. no words. 30k of hooker!Daniel that had me going a little crazy. so many good smut scenes, so many insane dialogues, so many insane angsty moments that aren't angst but feel like it... love love love it. I've read it a couple times already and it always has me on the floor. beautiful and breathtakingly so.

growing sideways by @thewindowatkirkland (rated E)

“We’re in Monaco,” Max says, “and you haven’t lived in either of those places for a very long time, Daniel. Since 2013.” It must be fucking amnesia, Daniel reasons, because when he went to bed last night it was July 2012. And here a grown up Max Verstappen is, telling him 2013 was a very long time ago. OR: daniel wakes up in a bed he doesn’t recognise, next to a man he doesn’t know.

what if Daniel woke up as his 2012 self with braces and awkward limbs but he's in his 2024 self bed, next to his 2024 self boyfriend (max) and he can't understand how any of this is happening? that's it. that's the plot. loved the little references, the race watching, the max trying to make Daniel learn everything they've had since 2012. the virgin smut. hot. but. everything about this fic is so, so sweet. it's gentle. like a hug after a long day, it takes you in and you never want to let go, especially because it has Daniel's fucked up teeth/braces in it. (joking but you know how I am with teeth, right?)

(just let me) adore you by @sillystappen (rated G)

One night, Max confronts the monster under his daughter's bed. Turns out, that monster is a very kind mothman called Daniel.

adorable. mothman!daniel (beautiful, beautiful, woah) takes car of max's daughter because other monsters might want to hurt her. so, so sweet. max is gentle but obsessed, and who can blame him even, Daniel is gentle, gentle, gentle, and caring, and so. argh. sorry. I'm obsessed with the fluff, the daughter, the developing bond between max and moth!Daniel. short and so cute.

auditory stimulator by togenkyo (rated E)

There are no rules for falling in love. It can happen to anyone, anytime, anywhere. Max may not be well experienced in love, but he's pretty sure that "Falling in love with a guy you met when you accidentally picked up the phone at a sex hotline." should be a rule.

so funny. had me giggling in a public space over silly roommates trying to get max laid/in a couple. so fun and quirky, really had pulled in from seeing 'Phone Sex Operators' in the tags. I'm glad I read this. great dialogue, story and characters.

hey, remember that time by @powerful-owl (rated E)

There’s a snowstorm outside and a snowstorm in Max’s head. “Yes, okay. What.” “I think I’m gay? Pretty sure. Or like. Hella bi. Cause I think I’d still – if you were a – sorry. My body likes you, Max.” — (Max owns an inn and Daniel has amnesia.)

so funny... love, love, love. I always love those kind of stories, the AU with amnesia and all, but this one is genuinely the best I've ever read. I love all of @powerful-owl 's fics, but this one. it has me in a chokehold. read it again during the holidays for the snowy/angsty/smutty vibes and the scenes always have me giggling or crying. sometimes both at the same time. can't believe she has the power to write such good scenes like the bathroom one. description is just gorgeous, smut is always really good and goofy and. yeah. love it. can't say I've ever been let down by one of her works.

new wave (new emotions) by nothoughtsjustvibes (Kitkatieb) (rated G)

In which Max realizes he’s in love with Daniel and flies to Colorado to make it Lewis’s problem. Lewis just wants him to leave – preferably on a plane to Australia.

so so fun. lewis' POV, which is always really fun to read, especially since it's maxiel. just. lewis objective on the whole 'yes max, Daniel is in love with you, too' situation without actually saying it out loud. cause max has to figure it out for himself. really, really cool and original. loved reading.

two's company, three's a crowd by Whippasnappa (rated E)

“I need to be good at these things so it does not matter when. When they see.” Max says. He's- Daniel's chest feels like its caved in. Max looks so fucking ashamed, and his eyes are wet, lashes fluttering like he’s trying to blink away tears. “See what? Max?” He can’t- there’s nothing about Max that Daniel could imagine would be so off-putting that someone wouldn’t want him. Clearly there’s more to it, then, the reason why Max hasn’t hooked up before. “It is small.” Max says.

whippasnappa is a genius on this one. small dick!max is alway shy fav max but this one,,, gorgeous. breathtaking. couldn't stop staring at y screen even if I died. could've died actually. had me having three heart attacks. have never come back from this one. arghhhh

we predict blue skies and tight pants by dontburnme

The sight just made him dizzy. The hottest man he’s ever fucking seen flipping off a cliff into the murky Oslo waters twenty seven meters high up. Or, Daniel’s a Red Bull high diver and Max experiences an out of body experience watching him.

in which, Daniel is a diver and max watches him dive. and dies, a little. it's crazy, crazy good. had me a little crazy, pulling my hair out by the end of it. I, too, had an out of body experience. crazy, crazy, crazy, and such a fun concept. alway love me some short and sweet AU-fics.

bonus!!: high and dry by @jermeows

real cowboys ride cock, y'know right?

technically not a fic but. it's such wonderful fanart I HAD to include it. maxiel cowboys; what more is there to say...

[corkinavoid]

I'm curious about "GIW bitches" and "Space Fights," if you wouldn't mind telling me about them.

With pleasure <3

GIW bitches is a variation on 'what happens if GIW captures Danny', but instead or vivisection and experimenting and whatnot, they use Danny, Dani, Dan and Jazz as sort of K9 units. Not exactly a living weapon, but the Fentons are kept under control, kind of like Suicide Squad? The story happens in Gotham, when Undergrowth takes over a part of it, and Bats are forced to work with GIW because their own weapons don't work. I planned to split them up into teams: Bruce and Cass go with Jazz, Tim with Danny, Jason with Dani, and Damian and Dick with Dan. But, eh, right now, I've only written the chapter with Jazz, and then other ideas got me in the chokehold, so it's postponed.

As for Space Fights, that's the one I'm going mad about right now! I don't know if you've seen Sonnie's Edge, the very first episode of Love, Death, and Robots, but it's pretty much that, mixed with some How to Train your Dragon vibes and also maybe Pacific Rim stuff?

Basically, Tim goes on an undercover mission to look into Ra's new business that revolves around beast fights - think underground dog fights, but with genetic experiments. Only it's not just beasts, it's a human controlling a beast through some sci-fi shit. So, Tim goes investigating, but that requires looking from the inside, so he searches for a team that can hire him with no prior experience. He gets into a team called Ghost - Jazz is a biology expert, Tucker is a technical expert, and one of the, um, an operator of the beast, and Sam and Danny are the monsters. Valerie used to be on the same team, but she left just a few days ago, that's why Tuck and Jazz were looking for a new member.

There's a lot happening in there, but it mostly revolves around space sci-fi cyberpunk vibes with the added flavor of overthrowing the rich assholes. I have so many ideas about it, I just hope I have the time to write them all

[decaying-church]

Slasher Nsfw Headcanons

(a/n: pretend I've been posting constantly this year :))

Pairing : Herbert West x male!reader, Vincent Sinclair x male!reader

Requested by @unspeakableoftheoscarwildesorr : Will you do a nsfw headcannons with vincent sinclaire and herbert west? It’s alright if you don’t want to. Please have a good day :))

Warning: bottom!slashers, top!reader, hair pulling, public play, Vincent's conservative upbringing, Vincent writes smut for you, bondage, mentions of chemical burns, getting caught multiple times (slight exhibitionist Herbert) sorry dan, breeding, aftercare

Characters: Herbert West, Vincent Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

He likes it when you watch him work, hovering over his shoulder, sometimes leaning on the table next to him. It makes him nervous, his hands fumbling a bit. If you tell him he was doing good and his brain would shut off.

He loves it when you praise him.

He also likes it when you run your hand over his back, whether you're giving him a massage or just feeling clingy he won't be able to focus on anything but you touching him.

Definitely a virgin when you met, but he knows about the general action of sex. Like the thing goes in the thing and then a baby comes out.

An utterly submissive bottom.

Before you met he figured that if he ever did end up having sex then he’d be the one doing all the work, as men do. (mmmh, conservative, yee-haw upbringing)

But then he met you, and he loved you, and you were both men, so his picture of what sex should be was completely shattered.

If you're generally smaller than him, he’ll try and be dominant. It won't work, the second you flirt with him or make a suggestive comment he goes weak in the knees.

He will make a single attempt at being on top before metaphorically throwing his hands up and going “well I tried”.

If your bigger, there is no attempt, there isn't even a thought of dominance, you were bigger- stronger, therefore you could do whatever you wanted to him and he would not complain (he will never tell you this because he knows you’d tell him otherwise but it honestly added an extra layer of excitement to everything)

The town is pretty empty so the two of you could essentially fuck anywhere.

You once joked about fucking in the middle of the road- and even though you were just joking, the thought of you holding him down on the old road, in front of all those houses, fucking him without a hint of modesty or secrecy genuinely plagued his dreams for several nights.

In reality, you’ve fucked in the gas station, in the movie theater, in the church, and in (or in more risky cases, against) the various houses around town.

Personally, I believe Vincent can talk, he’s just severely traumatized and doesn’t do it often, most days he communicates though groans, gestures, and forms of writing or drawing.

So, sometimes, when he wants you to try someone very specific with him, something too specific for him to say out loud, partially because of humiliation, but also because speaking was difficult for him, he will write it.

And not simple sentences either, he will go on and on about what he wants you to do to him, he’ll draw pictures, he’ll rant on for pages and pages.

The first time he did this you nearly read it out loud, you got about half a sentence in before realizing that no one else (especially Lester, who was just in the next room) needed to hear what he’d written for you.

Of course, with a set of quite specific instructions, you were able to make his every fantasy come true.

Vincent can genuinely go forever, round after round after round.

After years of being a recluse, he has a limit for how long he can go without some kind of stimulation.

Really, finally having someone who wants him and loves him above everybody else makes it a bit harder to continue the streak of celibacy he had before.

He can go about two weeks before he starts outright begging you to fuck him. Again, in great detail.

He doesn't have any prior experience so you'll have to teach him quite a few things.

The first time he asked you to tie him up he brought you some old ratty rope that would have torn his skin the moment things got too intense.

You have to ride out of tow a couple of times for supplies.

He is heartbroken every single time you leave, he always half expects you to just keep driving and never come back.

You always come back, much to Bo’s, who has to put up with Vincent being agiant baby whenever you leave, relief.

(if you ever actually leave Vincent, Bo will hunt you down. Despite everything he does love his brother)

He has a pretty average set of kinks, he likes being praised, tied up, and fucked within an inch of consciousness. He like it when you pull his hair and call him pretty, he likes getting fucked in places he shouldn’t, and he likes it when you leave marks on him.

Aftercare fiend, he’s not a pillow princess but you’d think he was with the way that he’d just lay there, fully fucked out, waiting for you to take care of him.

If you’re someplace where you can’t fully take care of him, (I.e. any other place you’ve fucked outside of your bedroom) he will become extremely flustered. Because that means he has to travel however far away you are from your bedroom in this state. And you could be several houses away or just a couple rooms away but he doesn’t consider either to be more or less embarrassing.

The state he’s in could varies depending on what you did, he could just have ruffled hair and messy clothes, or he could be walking around with a limp with every inch of visible skin covered in bruises.

Herbert West

A very busy man that doesn't like being interrupted while working.

That being said, he will sit on your cock while he's working.

He’ll tease you, act like he’s ready to get his back blown out against his desk, only for him to keep you inside while he works, shifting every so often, fully ignoring how hard he was in favor of chemicals and mildly unethical plans.

You might be able to fully pull him away from work if you give him an explicit rundown of all of the things you were going to do to him.

It'll distract him to the point that he just gives up, grabbing you by the shirt and pulling you in for a kiss.

Most of your “interactions” in his lab were just the two of you humping like animals on the nearest flat surface, which could be anything, a desk, the floor, the wall.

The two of you had so many chemical burns that could have been avoided simply by moving to his bedroom, you think the two off you would learn your lesson after the first time- you didn’t.

Herbert did not care what Dan heard or saw.

This was his house too after all. He could fuck wherever he wanted.

You’ve be caught by Dan an embarrassing amount of times.

Herbert from time to time will treat you like an experiment.

Don’t be surprised if he strips you down and asks to run some “test”

Herbert really, really likes oral.

He loves it when you guide him, one hand in his hair, slowly pulling him back and forth on your cock.

He is not immune to pet names.

Honey, baby, sweetheart, darling. The list goes on.

While he certainly likes those names, nothing captures his attention quite like you calling him “doctor”

This would be extremely inconvenience if you also worked at the hospital (the number of quickies had in closets/labs/bathrooms is downright disposable)

If you don't, you do it purely to tease him.

Leaning in close, telling him all the disgusting things you want to do to him, then just, “come on, Doctor West, don't you think you deserve a break?”

Herbert is definitely a switch with a preference for power bottoming.

He's in control while also getting fucked sideways, it's perfect for him.

When he is feeling fully submissive he will beg you to breed him.

He knows he can't necessarily be bred, but he likes the feeling of you cumming in him over and over.

Every position he likes, he likes for a very specific reason.

He likes missionary because he can leave marks all over your back, he likes being bent over the table so he has something to rest against when his legs inevitably gave out, he liked getting fucked on the wall because he liked how frantic and desperate it felt.

He will not flirt or try and sugarcoat what he wants, he doesn't care who hears, if he wants you to fuck him, he's going to tell you.

Herbert says he doesn’t like slow sex, but there’s been a couple of times when he hits a road block with his research and he’s frustrated and overwhelmed by everything and everyone and he just wants you to make it better.

You can’t necessarily help with the research but you could help him relax.

The way he reacts to aftercare changes drastically throughout your relationship.

When you first got together, he didn’t want you near him, don’t touch him, don’t talk to him, don’t look at him. Even though his legs were shaking violently and his body felt like it was on fire he insisted that he could handle everything himself.

There was somehow always water and food for him though, he figured it was a coincidence (leave him alone, his brain isn’t working at full capacity at the moment)

Further into you’re relationship he will definitely still be a brat about it, but less so. He’ll let you clean him, feed him, praise him. And on some of the more intense days, you’re gonna be carrying him around like a princess.

He “hates it”, but the moment you try and leave him to fend for himself, he gets even more irritated.

If it’s one of those days where you’re both bone tired afterwards then he’ll let you cuddle with him, he won’t initiate it, but he’ll enjoy it .

Kinktober 2023

[manchesterau]

zee manchesterau’s 2024 fic round up

I just want to start off by saying a big thank you to everyone who has ever reblogged or liked my writing post on here, the people who take the time to read the things that I put out on ao3, and those who even leave a comment and a kudos. It means so much to me, you all have no idea! I'm shit at replying to people but just know I read every single thing that's ever been sent to me, thank you all so much!!!

This year was the year that I broke my 4 year writers block. I'm not kidding when I say I mentally could not write anything, and I almost gave up on writing completely which absolutely devastated me as I've been a writer all of my life. I thought that I didn't have anything else to say, and that no one would want to listen but I was so wrong. I found inspiration again through dan and phil, but it was the lovely comments of support by this fandom that pushed me to write more. I ended this year with 10 fics on ao3 and a few ficlets on here and I'm still shocked that I was able to have written so much. Thank you, and I hope to share so much more with you all next year.

Fics under the cut ↓

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Phil wakes up to a still bus and the sounds of Chicago traffic. (tour bus ficlet)

Saturdays are theirs. (Phil proposes with dips)

Prompt: could you do something with them just waking up and being all lovey dovey while sleepy? Just sweet morning kisses and cuddles and softness all around please?

Prompt: helloooo for the fic prompts thing… cat and bear halloween 2009? pls (no pressure)

ao3

thinking of new ways to do each other

The stream ends but their night isn't over just yet.

fall in love again and again

Two days into their holiday while lounging by the villa pool that they rented out for the week to ensure maximum privacy, Dan has a thought: I’m going to marry this boy.

a bit ridiculous

And it would all feel a bit ridiculous if Dan wasn’t so madly in love.

exhale

The first leg of the tour has just ended, Dan and Phil find a way to relax in their hotel room.

stop the world i wanna get off with you *series*

A domestic night in the life of Phil the vampire and Dan the witch.

here come the dreams of you and me

So he and Dan are a thing now. Phil doesn’t really know what thing they are but it’s something he knows he wants to hold onto and never let go.

change

Everything is carefully controlled and he wonders why it seems that coming to Australia loosens his self-restraint.

15 Years

Their lives, forever intertwined.

healing hat

It’s only then while he’s about to climb back in bed and text Dan that whatever he ordered just arrived that he notices his head has settled down and he can actually blink without it hurting.

push and pull

They’re nowhere near ready to be done, and Phil isn’t always patient when it comes to most things but when it comes to fucking Dan, he has all the time in the world.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

too aware - express crew

summary; a self aware kid walks into the express and.. they shock the crew more than a stellaron.

genre/extra tags; headcanons, fluff, slight comedy, the child is aware, the child traumatizes the crew more than anything else /j, they have seen it all, reader is implied to be a vidyadhara

[platonic] [6-7 years old! reader] [gender neutral! reader]

a/n; i have,,, no idea if i'll be writing this correctly at all. honestly it's really reminding me of being really self aware, which i kind of relate to KSDJKSJD, so there will be some of that mostly. i've never really written a character like this. but i hope you enjoy.

also possible spoilers for those who havent reached the xianzhou quests yet. sorry.

what can i even say to start...

let's just say you're a kind of new to the express, you were part of the luofu or at least training to be part of the cloud knights

despite being such an old self-reincarnating species, sometimes you just wanted to start from the beginning, have an empty and open mind to enjoy your curiosities.

you would argue that you were the most cheerful vidyadhara out of the comrades you knew for centuries

but some people knew better

you were sweet, don't get it twisted but when the express crew met you for the first time

let me rephrase, when dan heng and welt met you for the first time .. .

"you... know a lot, don't you?"

you whispered to dan heng

you probably just scared the shit out of him so unintentionally.

you totally know who dan heng really is

you're just as old as he is, maybe a bit younger but you're not stupid

and then you look to welt, and you end up introducing yourself with a cute smile on your face as if you didn't look through dan heng's soul 10 secs ago

dan heng felt whiplash as he watches you talk to welt

welt is concerned for you. he knows that look in your eyes, when you know so much, when you're so aware of yourself and everything but you're so happy

"you must be a smart kid.." welt says softly. "do you know a lot as well?"

"i do."

it's a really interesting relationship that kind of develops as father figure and kid.

you connect to himeko and welt very easily with your experiences

you know a lot and you've experienced a lot, you eventually confess to being of the limited species of the xianzhou, vidyadhara

and you're happily proud of it. you're comfortable as to who you are.

with the trio on the other hand, you're really curious about march and trailblazer the most due to their origins

and they gladly indulged you.

"please tell me more about you!" you would tell them and inquire about them quite a bit

dan heng and you had confusing relations, you knew him from the past and he knew you

and you seemed the same despite your physical age

and dan heng.. you wish you knew more about him

so you end up being curious about him

and as expected, you two are the closest to each other

you're sweet to everyone despite the hardships you faced and you always look at the world with realism and yet you find a way to appreciate the good and bad

while everyone is concerned about how self aware and aware of the world you are as young as you are, you carved a place in their hearts and you never fail to surprise them with your outlooks on everything around you.

[bittersweetresilience]

reading year in review

companion post to my writing year in review... thank you @teafig for tagging me in this fun new variation and also always being so sweet... i did more than one for some months because i really have. so. many. bookmarks.

serious active interests at the time, sleeper fandoms or genres or pairings

JANUARY

The Arowana by chesslyfe5eva (Danganronpa, 6,486 words)

When Kiyotaka is born, his grandfather gifts the new parents a baby arowana.

i know, i know. danganronpa fic on here and it's not even komaeda. but this one is so insane it grips me. i've never so enjoyed reading about original characters.

The Dog, Untrained by Anonymous (Disco Elysium, 12,950 words)

An exploration of those Cuno has lost, those he's gained, and those he can't let go.

this and the arowana are both from nemali bookmarks and oh. my. god. they possess me. non linear narratives. minor character character studies.

annotated by ritsukies (Miraculous Ladybug, 4,351 words)

Félix and Marinette share a quiet moment together in the shared space of Adrien's bedroom.

JANUARY WAS FELINETTE MONTH FOR THE COSHRIMPERS. all the fics in this series are killer but this one specifically eats my brain. reminds me of the first few picnics... the start of spouse house...

FEBRUARY

Blueberry passion fruit by @ninadove (Miraculous Ladybug, 5,486 words)

He walked up to the counter, because he could not think of anything else to do. For all those times he had rehearsed their reunion, he had failed to consider the most obvious scenario: Adrien might want to run away once more.

this fic was notable to me because it was the first time i had enjoyed a coffee shop au in quite a while. i did fall a little in love with nina writing.

MARCH

sailor's knot by nailgunstigmata (Dungeon Meshi, 5,345 words)

The dangers of the dungeon are plentiful. Some of them are of the moral kind.

FUCKED UP CHILAIOS YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS TO ME. this is the fic i remember blowing me away, briefly but for realsies.

APRIL

The Only Love We Keep by @nemaliwrites (Miraculous Ladybug, 6,935 words)

Five times Zoé’s love wasn’t reciprocated, and one time it was.

i'm obsessed with nemali fic. i almost put in pursuit of the uneatable too. this one obliterates me especially. i love zoé so dearly.

Terrycloth Mother by rowdymouse (Earthbound, 4,325 words)

Tony's faced with a hard task: providing Jeff all the love he never got and desperately needs.

i read this fic and it was so good and so chilling it immediately shot onto my all time favorite fanfiction list.

MAY

in the light of the red moon by @purplecatghostposts (Miraculous Ladybug, 29,317 words)

Félix succeeds in bringing Marinette back. Adrien, Kagami, and Marinette are now trapped in an empty world, unless they can either convince Félix to bring everyone back, or do it themselves. Meanwhile, Félix slowly learns of the consequences of pushing the Miraculous of Emotion past its limits.

i can't say more that this fic is literally my émotion dream fic. it's everything i ever wanted for félix.

My choice, despite everything by dezzert (Honkai: Star Rail, 88,188 words)

Episodes of Gepard and Sampo throughout the years, and what they learn about themselves through each other.

such a well written character and relationship study. i was never that into sampard in the first place but this fic makes me understand it.

JUNE

in the heat of the moment by sesame_seed (Honkai: Star Rail, 4,273 words)

Jing Yuan tries not to mind. His instincts are the least important part of him, after all.

AAAAAAAA RENJING TIME RENJING TIME RENJING TIME FINALLY. i'm getting emotional about it. this is one of the first renjing fics that inspired me to write my own renjing. i recommend all of this author's fics, especially on the beach and sandalwood and ash.

only the mountain remains by questioningly (Honkai: Star Rail, 10,195 words)

Ever since his return from the frontlines, Jing Yuan has been acting strange, and Dan Feng and Yingxing can't seem to figure out why.

this one's jingrenheng and it won't happen again but holy shit. i remember texting autumn about a particular line in this one, about yingxing having sex with jing yuan being just one of the ways in which he will live forever, and i'm still breathless about it. holy shit.

Sweet Dreams by vahveroinen (Honkai: Star Rail, 1,059 words)

Sunday teaches Aventurine a lesson.

i wish i had done penacony in july because this is too many fics but alas, i read my way through, like, 10 different tags in june. if i'm limiting myself to one aventurine fic it's this one. i forgot i loved somnophilia until i read this fic.

JULY

在路上 by Sweetie_tianyang (Honkai: Star Rail, 221,914 words)

艾利欧的剧本已然走到终点，在死亡如期而至前，刃想最后做一件事情。

i've been translating this fic for over three months now. it's one of my favorite fics ever and i need everyone to read it right now. it is the DEFINITION of renjing. also, i actually bookmarked it on june 30 but reading took a while and i obviously kept thinking about it and i don't have any other favorites in july. sorry to all the june fics i had to skip.

AUGUST

What Real Human Beings Do by @nemaliwrites (Miraculous Ladybug, 1,029 words)

There are ghosts living inside of you.

nemali, i think we should marry.

人不如猫糕 by breaddog003612 (Honkai: Star Rail, 8,845 words)

景元领养了芝麻酥跟糯米团后，某日跟前男友电刀调情被两只猫糕看到了……

you ever love an author so much they unlock your bestiality kink. every time i get an update from this author i get so happy. i love all of this author's jing yuan harem fics and renjing scenes. blade having a child kink is so so SO unbelievably true. i have to lie down about this.

for the hope of it all by @asukiess (Miraculous Ladybug, 9,000 words)

"in five years, there’s a house on the water. adrien’s fumbling with the rope knot keeping our sailboat tied to the dock. you’re watching him from the sand.” a pause, and then: “alive, i might add.”

autumn writing so good it makes you realize you have to read more classic literature to keep up.

SEPTEMBER

不xx就出不去的房间 by Acat3 (Honkai: Star Rail, 26,389 words)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA okay i admit i have only fully read the renjing chapter of this fic but by god i have reread it constantly. feiyuan too. i need to be more horny.

To bring back the fire in her eyes by @ninadove (Miraculous Ladybug, 2,074 words)

“No drink for you tonight,” Colt announced, the triumphant accent thundering down her spine. “It’s bad for the baby.”

obsessed with this fic and also its sequel. amélie. horror. amélie.

OCTOBER

性与爱的莫比乌斯环 by Acat3 (Honkai: Star Rail, 15,946 words)

this fic is so balls to the walls crazy it actually makes me sick. it's so good. i'm frothing at the mouth over it. it's horrible. i love it. please give me more of it immediately. this is also the fic that unlocked freak time with ishi ni sun and for that i will sloppy it infinity.

waiting room by @mostmagical (Mass Effect, 6,565 words)

When Shepard wakes up after everything, Garrus isn't there. And neither is anyone else.

my favorite nicole mass effect fic... it does remind me of 大鱼 but most of all it reminds me of my mostbeloved. and character study.

NOVEMBER

Alma de araña by @ninadove (The Shadow of the Wind, 2,177 words)

The boy you’ll die for peels away from his thoughts, and smiles.

nina writing has been consistently stunning me but this fic was truly a masterpiece. a plus plus plus. you will enjoy whether or not you know the book series.

i don’t want this to end, i just wanna be your friend by bishakespeare (Night in the Woods, 4,414 words)

Five times Casey saved Gregg and one time Gregg couldn’t save Casey.

uuuUUUUUGGGGGHHAAAAUUUUAAAAAUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAA. i got extremely crazy about night in the woods again, if briefly, and this fic. this fic is everything.

call & response by MOKANA (The Bright Sessions, 30,302 words)

Damien sleeps with every character: the fic.

i CANNOT overstate how good this is. porn with narrative and character study. got me reading top damien. lord almighty.

DECEMBER

reasons to stay by sulkybender (Arcane, 1,927 words)

After a while, he starts to think about reasons to live.

i have to sink my teeth into all of this author's fics. prose so good it opens up the world for me.

aside from my beloved friends whom i happened to tag already, hauling @isabugs @celestialtitania @monpetitchattriste @blur0se @heartfulselkie @coffeebanana into this. show me the fics, spouses.

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' a Ted Nivison x Reader (Lemon)

{{-This might be the longest fucking chapter I've ever written for anything ever so please enjoy LMAO also gif made by me-}}

//General Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI FUCK OFF), Reader is implied to be afab and under 5'5. She/They pronouns used.\\

//Chapter Warnings: More Rainforest Cafe, references to old chapters including smut from chapter 6. Oh also smut here LMAO. Semi-public sex, reader played with, dirty talk, articles of clothing ripped, how many warnings do you want before I give the whole scene away--\\

Word Count: 7.4k fuck

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129 , @callsign-scully , @limecorpse & @hyper-fixation-nation-13

☆Love Ya To Death!☆

Chapter 18: A Left Turn

We spend a lot of time inside the Rainforest Cafe, mostly because it took quite a bit of time to be served. We got our drinks fairly quickly, but Dan and Joe were having a hard time deciding what to have to eat so our server left us for a little while. Thankfully, a majority of all the talking was distracting us from how hungry we were. We talked about literally everything that we've accomplished together both as a film crew and a friend group. We talked about how we all kinda freaked out during that first day when Conner couldn't make it, and how relieved everyone was when Ted took his place. Joe talked a bit about where he got the inspiration for Kara and Mason's wardrobe, our characters, and Dan once again apologized for almost hitting me with that football that Tanner made him throw at Ted and I. Good times.

Speaking of Ted and I, that topic came up shortly after due to Dan's genuine curiosity.

"I just don't understand how this happened." Dan admitted with an innocent little smile, holding his hands out in front of him as he speaks. "Like, you guys weren't already together when I threw the football?"

"No, it happened like 3 days later." Ted admitted with a casual shrug, relaxing a bit against the back of the booth. He was right, but I was surprised to hear him admit it to everyone.

"What happened, though?" Dan asked with a bit more emphasis, placing both of his hands on the table. It's a weird question to be asked but I can tell that Dan means well. He isn't necessarily trying to pry into our business, he's just...very young and innocent at heart despite being one of the older members of the friend group. Ted turns his head to look at me, giving me a smug little smirk with an eyebrow raised, as if to signal me to answer.

"What?" I look up at him with my own brows furrowed a little, a slight chuckle slipping out. "Do you want to talk about it? Here?"

"Why not?" Ted replied with a simple little shrug. "My friends already know a bit of it, yours could as well.."

"Wait, really?" I'm a little surprised to hear that. "Who? Which friends?"

"Tucker and Schlatt--well, Schlatt doesn't know what we did, but Tucker does."

"Tucker knows?"

"Yeah."

"Everything?"

"About that night, yeah. Mostly everything."

"Mostly?"

"Well I didn't go into excruciating detail or anything, but yeah, mostly."

"When did you tell him?"

"I had texted him before you woke up that morning."

"You texted him while I was next to you?"

"Yeah."

"So he knew before I was on the podcast?"

"Yeah, he did."

"...huh."

"Why are you surprised?" Ted chuckled a little, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "How fast did you go to Joe about us again?"

"I'm--Okay, that's a fair point, actually.." I playfully roll my eyes and nod a little. After a decent little pause, Ted turns back to look at Dan.

"Anyways, we had sex."

Most of us started laughing at that response, with Dan letting out a genuine, but almost exaggerated "What!?" in between laughs. Him being so shocked is honestly valid, especially after that tangent between Ted and I.

"3 days later? Jesus, man!" Dan chuckles, gently smacking his hands down on the table. "No patience!"

"What day was that again?" Tanner asks with a confused little smile, looking over everyone's expressions.

"The day we had to go out and replace my wardrobe.." I admit in a slightly softer voice, sort of hugging myself in my seat.

"It was when you passed out in my bed." Ted added, pointing over at Tanner. "The first time we were up late editing?"

"Oh yeah.." Tanner glanced down a little, nodding slowly before looking up at Ted again. "And my door was locked, right?"

"Yeah, no idea why." Ted admitted with a shrug. "I couldn't turn the knob and I didn't really want to wake everyone to the sound of me breaking down your door, so I just knocked on theirs. Knew they were awake."

Huh. So Tanner really was taking up Ted's bed the first night. What an odd way for the world to put Ted and I together. "I genuinely thought it was a fuckin' story." I speak up after taking a sip from my drink. "I thought it was a whole-ass excuse just to get me alone."

"Hey, I know you like to think I'm some hot-shot lady wranglin' casanova over here.." Ted snickers slightly, turning his body a little to address me. "But despite what you think, I didn't intend to sleep with you that night."

"It kinda sounds like you did." Tanner admitted with his head tilted, resting his elbows on the table. I could tell that everyone was invested in this whole thing, Joe included, despite him already knowing everything. Mostly everything.

"I didn't! It wasn't--alright--" Ted's tone became defensive as he held his hands up in mock surrender, letting out a chuckle. "Alright, alright, listen: Was I kinda thinkin' about it? A little, maybe. Sure, but I wasn't plannin' on tryin' anything; not that night anyways."

"So how did it happen?" Joe asks with a knowing smirk, his body turned towards the both of us to give us his full attention. Joseph, you fuck, you already know.

"Because (Y/N)'s kinda a little whore, if I'm bein' honest." Ted admits without an ounce of hesitation, using his usual exaggerated tone.

"YO!" I laugh out and turn to smack his arm, hearing a quiet 'ah' escape him as I laugh. "I am NOT! You jumped me!"

"I didn't jump you! You were--"

"You cornered me by my window and my bed!"

"You wanted to kiss me!"

"I had no where to go!"

"You were givin' me the goo-goo eyes! The bedroom eyes!"

"I glanced at your lips ONCE, Ted!"

"And what does that mean, princess? Hmm? What does looking at the lips mean?"

"It's a fucking--"

"What does looking at the lips mean?"

"Ted--"

"Do you remember? Do you remember what it means?"

"Shut the fuck up!" I laugh.

"You used the tell for the film?" Tanner chimes in with a soft laugh, furrowing his brows in disbelief. "That's what did it?"

"Absolutely she did!" Ted points at Tanner with pure confidence in his expressive voice. "She looked, I made her admit it, then it happened."

"And now the whole fucking cafe knows." I lower my voice a bit with a playful eye roll, shaking my head at Ted. "You're being loud as fuck, you know that?"

"Oh come on, babe. Doesn't it feel kinda good to tell everyone?" Ted grinned back at me, getting yet another little eye roll from me. "Isn't it kinda funny?"

"....In a sense.."

The conversation was cut short when our server returned to take our food order. Dan and Joe had finally decided on what they wanted, so we could all finally order our food and wait for it to arrive. It was hard to believe that we'll all be separating in the next 9 or so days. Some of us will be flying back home, some of us will make a long road trip out of it and Ted will simply be just getting on the highway for, like, a 45 minute drive at best. It's odd. He'll have the smallest distance to travel, but he'll feel so far away...

I try to keep my thoughts focused on the group and their loud banter, watching with a smile on my face as Joe and Tanner rock back and forth in a laughing fit. Joe put his head in his hands and Tanner leaned his head back with his hand on his chest. I've clearly missed something. "What? What did you say?" I ask with a confused little smile, tilting my head at Joe as he leaned against my shoulder.

"We were talking about the--oh god.." Joe almost couldn't answer my question, wiping under his eyes as he chuckled. "Tanner, fuck man, oh my god.."

"I still have to show it to you guys, but we're talking about something we caught while editing last weekend." Tanner was able to catch his breath enough to start explaining it, an occasional laugh slipping out. "Y'know how we had to reshoot some scenes outside the other day?"

"Yeah, that's why Ted had to shave." I reply with a small smile, glancing over at Ted.

"She's still very upset about that." Ted adds in a joking tone, giving me a little point.

"Well--Okay, first of all, rude to just air that out." I let out a little laugh, turning my body more to look at Ted. "I was not upset, I was just...wanting you to grow it out a bit.."

"I am, half of it is already back." Ted rubs his slightly stubbled cheeks with his hands, shrugging a little. "It grows in fast, princess."

"Have you ever thought about growing a mustache?" Dan chimes in, resting both of his arms on the table.

"Ooh, y'know what..." Ted narrows his eyes with a smirk, leaning back a bit with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Man, he has nice arms... "I haven't grown in my mustache in a long time...maybe I will.."

"It'll look schnazzy for the premiere." Tanner gives him a gesture of approval before adjusting himself in his chair. We gotta stop going off on tangents like that.

"Anyways, what we were laughing about was something Joe and I caught while we were editing last weekend. There was a part of the file that got corrupted and it created this weird mix match of scenes that made it look straight out of a YouTube poop."

"The files mixed? Mixed how?" I repeated, tilting my head a little again. "Like, into 2 scenes?"

"Yeah, it mixed one of the outdoor shots with Ted pushing you into the pool." Tanner explained, beginning to laugh a little as he recalls the scene for us. "And--and so the camera pans--it pans, cuts to you two, you get pushed into the pool and it froze on the exact frame you go under the water. When it froze, the audio still plays and it's the loudest fucking, like...crashing into water sound I've ever heard. It was so fucking funny."

"Here, I recorded it on my phone." Joe takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the video, handing his phone to me so Ted and I could watch it. It was almost exactly how Tanner had described it, but it looked like it was some video game glitch. When I hit the water, the file was so corrupted, it looked like water was continuously coming out of the pool with my body vibrating inside it. The sound was LOUD, too, making Ted and I erupt into unexpected laughter.

"Jesus christ!" Ted laughs out, smacking his thigh a bit as he leaned back. "How the fuck did that happen!?"

"I honestly have no idea!" Tanner chuckled, shrugging his arms out a bit. "It was fine inside the camera! Sending it to my PC just did that!"

"Can you send that to me?" I ask Joe in between little laughs, placing a hand over my own chest.

"Yes, absolutely. It's so fucking funny.." Joe chuckled, carefully taking his phone back from me so he could send me the video. I needed to put that on my Instagram story or something. I'd have to do it later though. Maybe we'd been here longer than we thought, or maybe we were being so rowdy that it caught the staff's attention, but we finally got all of our food shortly after Joe sent me the video, so we were all finally able to calm down a bit and enjoy our meals, glancing up from our plates when another rainstorm occurred. That's still a little jarring, in a good way.

Honestly, the food wasn't too bad. The safari fries were a lot better than I thought they'd be and I thoroughly enjoyed what I had ordered. Everyone else seemed pretty satisfied too. I would've finished everything on my plate if it weren't for Ted, who had ordered a bit more than the rest of us. He wanted all of us to try a little bit of the nachos so we all sort of had a free appetizer with our meals. Honestly, Ted was the most eager out of all of us to come here but we were all having a blast. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time, even after another two or so Rainforest thunderstorms. I could tell that Ted was enjoying himself just as much, if not more. I kept catching him looking at me with a big dumb smile no matter what I was doing, whether I was turned away to talk to Joe or straight up stuffing way too many nachos into my mouth, he looked infatuated with me. It was really nice, in a strange way.

Once we were all done our food, Ted called for our bill. At first, he tried to pay for the entire meal, but most of us strongly disagreed with that idea. I stayed relatively quiet while everyone argued about paying for their own meals. I mean, I'd happily pay for my own meal if I had to, I'd feel bad about making Ted pay for it...at the same time, free dinner sounds pretty good and I oddly like the idea of Ted spoiling me even a little bit. The argument was settled when Tanner brought up the fact that he still had money on the credit card the school had given him for the film. Yes, the "emergency" credit card. Dan brought up the fact that Tanner seemingly wanted to use it for what was clearly not an emergency, Tanner just shrugged and said "We can't decide who's paying, sounds like an emergency to me." And we ultimately all agreed to use it, because making his school pay for our Rainforest Café dinner is just really funny.

After we've paid our bill, we make a quick trip to the gift shop to buy matching shirts, very similar to the one Ted had brought, and take a few group photos inside and outside of the joint before finally separating back to our vehicles. Joe, Dan and Tanner returned to their ride and Ted and I moved back to his Toyota Tacoma. Just as I had hopped into the passenger seat, I watched Ted do a quick little jog over to the guys and tell them something, though even with the windows rolled down I can't make out any of it. Huh.

Ted quickly steps back over and gets into the driver's seat, a small smirk on his face as he starts his truck up.

"What did you tell them?.." I ask with a curious smile, but I don't get an immediate answer. Ted takes his time carefully getting out of the parking lot, the smirk staying on his face. I furrow my eyebrows a little at him and just sort of...watch. His silence is making me a little anxious.

"Hang on, I'll tell you when we're on the road.." Ted speaks as he stops to let another car pass. He's being strangely...inconspicuous about this, which means he's up to something. I see Dan's van drive out of the parking lot and make a right turn to head down the main street, but when Ted gets to that same exit after a bit of navigating, he turns left. I furrow my brows again and turn to look at him. He's still smirking.

"You feelin' alright?" Ted speaks up again once he's on the main road, keeping his eyes front with his smug little smirk still along his blush-toned lips. "Not feelin'...stuffed at all?"

"Stuffed? I mean..." I'm getting more confused by the second, sitting up more in my seat. "I'm full, but I'm not sore or anything. Why?"

"Just checkin'.." Ted glances at me briefly, staying straight on the road. I don't know this area very well, but I know that our set isn't in this direction. "I told the others I'd take ya sight seeing for a bit."

"Sight seeing?" I repeat and briefly turn away, my eyes focusing down in my lap for a moment. "What are we seeing? Where are we--"

It hits me.

Oh.

Oh.

I remember.

"That...kinda depends on whether or not I'm makin' another left at these lights up here.." Ted slips his hand off the wheel slightly to point out towards the lights we were approaching. It seemed like turning left would lead into some sort of middle class neighborhood, while turning right would likely bring us back to the path home.

"Y-You're making me decide this now?" I'm immediately flustered, turning to look at him with a nervous pout. "How long did you say we'd be gone?"

"Didn't specify, but we don't have to be gone long.." Ted gave a slight shrug, easing up a bit when the light began to turn red. "Doesn't always have to last 20 or so minutes. Am I turnin' left?"

I try to get something, anything out quickly but I just stammer over my own voice and let out a nervous chuckle. I can't tell if he's bluffing, thought at this rate I doubt he ever is. He mentioned knowing a few spots before we got to the restaurant, but I thought it was a fucking joke. It's very quickly not becoming a joke...and it's very quickly becoming very, very tempting.

"I won't be upset if it's a no, but you got about 15 seconds to answer me. Give or take." Ted speaks up again to get my attention, glancing at me briefly. "Am I turnin' left?"

"Do you actually have a spot in that direction?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. I want to have at least some idea of where we're going. I certainly don't need to know what we'll be doing. I already know.

"Yes." Ted answers simply, slowing down ever so slightly. "I know a few, this is the closest."

"But that's through a suburb."

"Yeah, I know."

"The spots near those houses?"

"A house, kind of."

"Have you ever used it?"

"Not that one, no."

"Have you ever been caught?"

"Not in L.A."

"Isn't there a chance we could get caught there, especially if you've never used it?"

"No, not with what I know. Am I turnin' left, or...?"

Christ, I can't believe I'm doing this. "...turn."

I see Ted's smirk grow into a mischievous smile as he carefully switches lanes so he can turn left at the red light, bringing us into a neighborhood I didn't recognize. A devilish little chuckle leaves Ted and he shakes his head. It's like he also can't believe what I had just agreed to, and he's the one who made the damn offer in the first place.

"Don't laugh at me.." I playfully glare at him, anxiously crossing my arms in front of my chest. "This was your idea.."

"Yeah, and it's fucking awesome that you're into it." Ted replied with a cocky little grin, removing one of his hands from the steering wheel to rest it in his lap. I turn away for a moment just to glance out the window, noticing very quickly that there wasn't a single other car on this street. Even most of the driveways were empty. Maybe a majority of the people in this neighborhood work nights and closing shifts. Ted must've known that, though how he came across this area was a whole other story.

"Hey." Ted gets my attention by placing his free hand on my thighs, glancing at me with that confident, charming little grin. "Got a question for ya, princess.."

I can already feel my cheeks heating up and my stomach bubbling up with anxiety, turning my head to look at him. I was trying to appear as calm as possible. "Yeah?.." I respond simply, keeping my tone soft just in case I became shaky. His hand feels so warm on me...

"...Didya ever...think about me?.." Ted lowers his tone a little, occasionally glancing at me as he drove down the empty street. "Y'know, before anythin' happened? Did ya...think about how it'd go? How it'd feel?"

I find myself rolling my eyes and looking out my window again, letting out a shaky sigh. There's no way I'm gonna be able to answer that while looking at him. "Yeah..." I'm able to speak up enough so he can hear me clearly, but my tone is otherwise quiet and shy. "It...pretty much went exactly how I'd pictured it. You on top...a leg over your shoulder..."

"Oh yeah?" Ted speaks with a little purr, giving my thigh a small squeeze. I feel his thumb begin to slowly caress my inner thighs, his tongue gliding along the ends of his top teeth. "Ya like me on top?.."

I roll my eyes again. It's instinctual. It's like I'm annoyed with myself for enjoying his suggestive questioning. I look forward to see Ted go through a roundabout, heading down a new street that seemingly lead to no where. "I like...losing control. Giving it.." I admit after a little pause, slowly moving my tongue along my lower lip to wet it a bit. "You're just so...right for me in that way, I never have to worry about...telling you to slow down or curve up or anything, you just know. You just do it, and it's been good...every single time."

Even thinking about it now was making that familiar tingly warmth appear between my legs, lightly dragging my teeth along my lower lip. Sometimes, if I really think hard about it, I can still feel the anticipation of him pushing into me for the first time, how well I shape around him...

I can see that Ted is happy with my honest answer. A pleased little hum leaves him and he squeezes my thigh again. He keeps doing that and I'm gonna make him pull over...

"I know I haven't left you alone since that night, but..." Ted pauses to choose his words carefully, glancing at me again. "You ever...touch yourself to me, princess?.." Just as he ends his question, he slowly slides his hand more up my thigh, his thumb inching closer to my clothed core. Even through my clothes, I can feel his warm touch, I can feel myself aching for him, desiring him all over again.

"I've....never had the time.." I admit with a breathless little chuckle, trying not to tense up against my seat too much. "But...I've thought about it.."

"You've thought about it, huh?.." Ted begins to slow down a little, giving me another quick glance with his suggestive grin. "Ya wanna try it?.."

Gods, how does this man do that with just his voice?...

"Try it?" I turn to look at him fully, raising a curious brow. I'm trying real hard to hide how much he's getting to me. "Try it how? In here? In--In front of you?"

Ted, once again, chooses not to answer me right away. His suggestive grin grows and another low little chuckle escapes him. "...You'll see. You'll like it..."

Ted continues to drive until he's at the very end of the street with some large looking home to our left and a small little forest to our right. There isn't a single car in the driveway and it looks like all of the lights are on. The truck tilts and bobs ever so slightly as Ted pulls into the dirt path leading into the small forest, removing his hand from my thigh to steady the truck with both hands. Where the fuck are we? And how did he discover this place? Ted glances around a bit before parking and completely turning off his vehicle, letting out a little sigh. He removes his seatbelt, letting it slip behind him before turning to me with a smirk.

"Backseat, princess." He gestures back with a thumb. Oh god, okay, this is happening. Why am I even surprised? It's Ted, with me. He's obsessed...and honestly, so am I.

I quickly remove my seatbelt and move around to crawl into the back seat, grunting as I attempt to get through this awkward crawling bit as fast as I can. I realize that I've never seen his backseat so...cleared before. I don't think I've ever seen anyone's backseat so cleared. Did he plan this?

X

As I'm getting comfortable, Ted immediately moves towards me to crawl overtop of me, pinning me down on my back with his body. I'm honestly surprised he can even fit back here with how tall he is, but he seems relatively comfortable. He grabs my face and pulls me into a deep, sultry kiss, letting out a muffled groan against my lips. With how short these seats are, one of my legs are hanging over the side of the seat, my lap already completely spread for him. I'm able to loosely wrap my arms around his neck, already feeling him slip his tongue into my mouth for more of me. A small moan escapes me, which immediately turns into a more surprised moan when I feel his tented shorts press against me. He's trapped me beneath him, I couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to. I can already feel my own excitement growing at that realization.

Ted kisses me roughly a bit more before pulling away to begin trailing hot kisses down my neck. As he pulls back a bit to say something, his glasses slip off his face and bop me on the bridge of my nose, making both of us let out a little laugh.

"Fuck, sorry--" Ted chuckles lowly, carefully snatching his glasses before they'd fall, tossing them onto the side surface in between the front seats.

"You're...so impatient.." I let out a soft purr, leaning my head back a little when he continued to trail his kisses along my neck.

"I know, I'm not doin' well at all.." Ted snickers a bit against my nail, nipping a bit along my jaw. "Soon as you agreed to it, I just...fuck, (Y/N).."

Ted knows we need to be semi quick, so as his hand moves down my body, he completely ignores my shirt and heads straight for my pants. He slips his hand in between my opened legs to touch my clothed core, my thighs flinching as a shaky moan leaves me. "Theo.." I tilt my head to moan into his ear, feeling the tips of his fingers press into the loose fabric of my pants. I know. I know he can feel how wet I already am, and it's all his fault. I don't know if it's normal for a man to make me such a mess so quickly, but he does it to me. Oh, he does it to me so easily...

"I know, baby. I know.." Ted moves up ever so slightly to whisper into my ear, moving his hand up to slink under the waistband of my pants, pushing my panties aside to slip his fingers between my folds. "I've got you, I've got you.."

A sharp gasp leaves me at his warm hand against me, glancing down to see his hand down my pants, wanting the pretty sight burned into my memory. I'm already soaked against his fingers, my panties are probably already a mess. My arousal only grows when I feel him push two fingers into me, making me lean my head back and moan out for him. I feel his fingers curl up inside me, massaging that perfect little spot from the inside.

"Oh you're drenched.." Ted purrs into my ear with a low little snicker, beginning to pump his fingers inside me with the small amount of room he had. "Did you get horny at the thought of me fuckin' you in my car? You're bad, princess. You're...fucking perfect.."

My pants have never felt so restrictive in my entire fucking life until now. I close my eyes as his fingers work me inside, pressing my foot against the back door with a groan.

"T-Take my pants off.." I beg with a slight growl in my throat, a shiver running through my body as Ted trails his tongue along the side of my neck, knowing he's doing it just to tease me.

"Hands are kinda busy, princess.." Ted purred against my neck with another low snicker, rebalancing himself overtop of me by moving his free hand against the backs of the seats. I groan in response, giving his wrist in my pants a quick smack so he'd remove it. I grunt quietly as he slipped his fingers out of me completely, listening to his dark chuckles as I push my own pants down my legs, wiggling my hips to slip them down to my ankles.

"These too, princess.." Ted shifts slightly to look at me, pressing his two fingers against me through my panties. A quiet gasp escaping me in response.

"Y-You do it.." I huffed, giving him a needy glare. I know Ted wants us to be quick, which of course means I need to start misbehaving, to test his patience. I see his eyes sparkle a bit with a surprised smile spreading along his blush-toned lips, raising a brow at me.

"Oh you really don't want to test me right now, babe.." Ted purred down at me, giving me a small shake of his head. "You're wearing lace. Y'know how easy that is to rip open? You wanna find out?"

"You think you're gonna rip them?" I ask with a quiet, mocking little chuckle.

"I will rip them." Ted insisted with a slight nod. "That's not a concern, that's a promise."

"Oh is that so?"

"Absolutely. Wanna test me right now? On the way back, you'll be sitting with nothing to cover how much I've stuffed your sensitive little cunt.."

"Bet."

Ted's eyes flared up at my response, like I just snapped a twig while he's on the hunt. He sits up a bit more so he can use both of his hands to grab the front of my panties, ripping them open like they were nothing.

"Ted! You--" I gasp out, the rest of my words muffled by the feeling of his fingers pushing into my mouth, making me taste myself.

"Shut up, I fucking warned you." Ted scoffs down at me, removing his fingers from my mouth so he could return them to my core, spreading my essence and saliva over my sensitive bud. He uses his free hand to lift my shirt up just so I feel even more exposed, leaning back over me to return to my neck. He uses his two fingers to make slow little circles around my sensitive clit, my exposed, spread thighs shivering in response.

"Oh my g-god, Teddy...that's..." I moan softly for him, leaning my head back once more. I don't even have the energy to think about my torn panties anymore, his touch is so sensual and pleasent, it feels really good.

"Yeah, there you go..." Ted whispered into my ear with another low snicker, changing the pace of his fingers to begin flicking them back and forth against my clit, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. "Relax, baby. Relax beneath me.."

I let a few shaky moans escape me, closing my eyes to focus on all of the touches and noises around me. I can feel Ted's hot breath against my neck, his fingers working my sensitive bud in alternating paces. I can hear the way his fingers rub against me, occasionally dipping into my entrance for more of my essence, spreading it over my sensitive clit, my arousal making my breathing quicken and become uneven. I began to let my thoughts wander, recalling our first night in bits and pieces. I thought about how it felt to kiss him in my room with true passion and desire, how it felt to have him in my bed...

"You're thinkin' about it, aren't you? Bout that night?.." Ted purrs into my ear, flicking his fingers against my clit a little faster, letting the tip of his tongue curl along my ear. "Y'know how often I think of that? Of every night I've had you beneath me?.."

My mouth is open to let my sweet sounding moans slip out, though words refuse to form. I give him a shaky little nod instead, angling my hips up ever so slightly as if to grind against his fingers.

"I think about how well you responded to everything I did to you.." Ted whispers to me, alternating between circling and flicking his fingers along my sensitive bud. "I think about how we didn't need to say a word...how we knew exactly where to touch each other, where to feel, where to taste. Oh baby, and you taste so good..."

I close my eyes and allow myself to fully focus on his words and his touch, unable to balance my heavy breathing. An occasional little moan escaped me, urging him to keep going.

"I'll never have to touch myself again with you so eager, mm?.." Ted continues to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, occasionally moving to nip or suck on little spots along my jaw or neck. "You'll just do anything for my touch, won't you? You were made for me, princess. Made for me to play with. Look at you, look at how pretty your pussy is to play with.."

I can't help myself. With him, I must do as I'm told. I can feel the arousal in my body increasing, my core becoming warmer and more sensitive. I feel him adjust so I can look down at myself, watching as his fingers dip into my core to get more of my essence along his fingers, bringing them back up to continue to play with me, the pace of his fingers flicking across my clit only becoming faster and faster.

"Pretty little thing, mm?..." Ted glances down at his hand, a low, mocking chuckle leaving him as he watches my chest rise and fall with my quick, desperate breaths. "God, you're so fun to play with, baby. Pretty little pussy's all mine, isn't it? Can you say that, baby? Can you say that before you cum?..."

Everything is starting to feel more and more intense, I don't know if I'll even be able to get a word out before I finish. I let out a needy moan and lean my head back again, closing my eyes once more. "P-Pretty--pretty..." I manage to mutter out in between quick breaths, pouting my lips out with a desperate little whine. "T-Teddy, I'm--"

"Don't cum, princess. Don't cum just yet.." Ted teases me with a low snicker, yet his quickens his pace against my clit. "Tell me, tell me it's pretty. No no no, don't.."

"I-I am!--I'm!--"

Unfortunately, him urging me to hold it in while his fingers increased their pace was the exact thing that triggered my first climax. I shut my eyes and moan out for him, my body shivering and shaking as my orgasm intensifies through my whole body, rising up my chest and into my head. His fingers continued to move relentlessly against my sensitive clit as my head gets all fuzzy, my eyes rolling back as the last of my climax shivers up my spine. That was a completely different kind of release, at least compared to when he goes down on me, but it was...exhilarating. It felt amazing. He knows my body so well. I have a sneaking suspicion that he intended for me to finish then and there, despite telling me to wait

My hazy thoughts are interrupted by Ted snickering lowly at me, spreading his fingers over my core. "You bad girl.." He purrs to me, bringing his hand up to lightly clasp around my throat, keeping me down against the seat. "Thought I told you to wait. Pathetic..."

I open my eyes to meet his heated gaze, my lips parted as I tried to catch my breath. Ted was right, I liked that. I really liked that. Having him play with me was incredible. Now I'm the impatient one. "T-Too bad, I guess.." I manage to speak out with a shaky chuckle, letting my tongue smooth along my upper lip. "Now, you gonna keep everyone waiting or are you gonna fuck this pretty pussy?.."

I see Ted's eyes once again flare up with desire and arousal, hearing him let out another dark, yet shakier chuckle. That's exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Oh, I'm fallin' hard for you, you little bitch.."

Ted leans down to catch my lips in another deep, passionate kiss, using his free hand to begin working at the button and zipper of his shorts. I groan impatiently in the deep kiss, kissing him back with my own hands going down to his shorts to help him pull them down, helping him slip his boxers briefs down as well. Once he's fully exposed, I feel his right hand move up to smack onto his back window while the other let's go of my throat to align himself with my entrance, wasting no more time as he pushes deep into me. By now, he feels perfect slipping into me, every single god damn time. Something is missing if his cock isn't nestled inside of me. I'm shaped for him and him only and he knows it. He better know it.

He moves his hand up to press against the back door behind my head, bucking his hips up as roughly as he can against me. I can already feel how much he's been aching for me, his throbbing shaft massaging my inner walls warmly. Pleasure begins to surge throughout my entire body with every smack of his hips, a loud, needy moan slipping out of me everytime our skin connects. I lean my head back and let him hear the desperation in my sweet moans, smirking a little to myself when I can feel the truck rocking with his thrusts.

"Oh. God. Every. Time. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.." Ted growls, a single word leaving him with every thrust of his hips. "So. Fucking. Good. So tight, so--wet--FFFFUCK." He nuzzles his face into my neck, putting more force in with every single buck while his lips once again find my neck. His pelvis rubs up against me everytime our hips meet, I'm already getting lost in the pleasure he's rushing through my body, feeling his heavy pants against my skin.

"Oh god, Teddy! Teddy it's good!" I whimper for him, wrapping my arms around him to cling to him as best as I can, gripping onto his shirt to keep him close. "It's good, it's good! It's so good! So good!"

"I know, baby, I know--ugh, I'm gonna--" Ted growls into my ear, his hand moving from the window to slightly change the angle of our bodies, making my head nestle more into the corner of the backseat. "--gonna tilt this whole truck over fucking you like that, hold on.--" He puts us at a more diagonal angle with one knee on the seat with his other on the floorboard to keep himself steady, pulling my hips in closer. "There. Better..."

This new position gave him the room that he needed, able to tug me in with his rough thrusts over and over and over. The truck was definitely still rocking back and forth with us, arguably a lot more with how much harder he was fucking me, but neither of us cared now.

Ted quieted his own low moans and growls so he could focus on my own needy sounding voice, my head completely leaned back as I whimpered and whined for more, unable to form a coherent word or sentence that didn't include 'It's' 'so' and 'good'. It was all I could say, all I could feel. It was so good. It was so fucking good, everytime with this man is so fucking good. The intensity of it all was becoming too much. Here I am, in the backseat of his truck, getting railed like there's no tomorrow and no one has any idea where we've gone or what we're doing. It's exciting, it's exhilarating and I want to do more of it with him. I want to do everything with him.

"Ted! Teddy! I'm--It's--I-I'm cumming!" I cry out for him, finally able to get some words out when I begin to hit my peak a second time. I can feel his length throbbing inside of my tightened walls, my release building up more and more until it was nearly about to burst. Ted moved in to press his body down against me and latched onto my neck once again, panting and moaning sweetly into my neck as he bucked his hips against me like a needy animal reacting to heat. His pelvis continued to rub against my sensitive bud while the tip of his length massaged me from the inside and I'm able to release for a second time, crying out because of him; crying out for him. I can't control my volume even if I tried. I close my eyes just as I feel his hot seed push into my core, hearing his hand smack his back window as his body lightly convulsing against me, comfortably emptying into me. All of the pleasure centers around my aching core and rushes up my entire body and rumbles into my head, leaving me with a satisfying, light-headed haze, even as he gently pulls out of me.

X

Just as this pleasant high begins to fade, I feel Ted pull back from my neck with a weak moan, relaxing against my body to catch his breath, the truck's rocking still persisting ever so slightly. I lightly wrap my arms around him, one of my hands moving up to run my fingers through his tall dark hair. A part of my neck feels warm and damp and it's a little difficult to catch my breath with most of Ted's weight on me, but I'm completely satisfied. Maybe I'll keep this little adventure with Ted to ourselves. Joe doesn't need to know everything.

"You're incredible..." Ted whispers into my chest, letting out a shaky chuckle as he lifts himself off of me a bit, his dark orbs sparkling down at me. "You're fucking incredible, you're...everything.."

I meet his gaze with my own weak little chuckle, lightly biting the corner of my lower lip. I can feel the high of sex with Ted mixing with my infatuation for Ted. "E-Everything?..." I manage to repeat after a deep breath, giving him a little smile. "I'm...I'm everything except properly clothed, Theo.."

"Oh yeah, right...right..." Ted replies with another breathless laugh, glancing down at my bare legs. Fuck. This motherfucker really ripped my god damn underwear. "I...did that."

"I can't believe you did that.." I lean my head back for a moment and shake my head, my smile spreading into a satisfied grin. "You son of a bitch.."

"Hey, I did warn you. I tried to warn you." Ted insisted with a playful grin, shifting a bit to give me more room to move. "I just--ooh...uh...uh oh..."

"Uh oh?" I lift my head to look at him with my eyebrows slightly furrowed. "What uh oh?"

Ted, once again, doesn't answer me right away. He's looking down at me, but he's not looking at my face. What's he looking at? My chest? My chin? My neck?

Ted brings his hand to my chin to lift my head slightly, squinting his eyes and leaning in a bit, like he's focusing on something. I'm starting to get a little anxious. "What? What do you see?" I ask again with a frown, clearly getting more nervous by the second.

"Uhh..." Ted let's out his own nervous little chuckle.

"I...think that's a hickey..."

...Fuck.

"...A big one.."

Oh fuck.

__________________________________

*All Chapters, uploaded and not, will now be listed and linked at the bottom here ♡

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 (smut) (here) || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 || Chapter 22 || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || Chapter 25 (final) ||

[quimichi]

Hi, I was hoping I could get a genshin and HSR match up if they're still open? I use she/her pronouns, and I have a romantic preference for men. I'm a big time introvert and not one for small talk but I always try to be polite and kind. I've been described as being too sensible by multiple people but I will also laugh at some of the dumbest stuff. My hobbies include writing, drawing and cooking, generally I like anything creative. I hope this is okay and that you have a lovely day!

A/n: I really hope you like my answer! I just thought that someone who can understand and appreciate you would fit so much more better than the opposite ♡

FREMINET

@ awww look at those two introverts in love ♡

@ understands you all to well. You want your peace and quite? He'll leave you to yourself and lets you draw, take a nap, read or whatever.

@ greatly appreciates if you'd do the same, but only really rarely. He does enjoy your company a lot! You bring him internal peace. Just having you sit beside him while he works on a new project really gives him motivation.

@ psst, he wants to show off, just a little ;)

@ takes you diving with him! I hope you're not scared of the ocean tho- if you are, he'll guide you through it. He never lets go of your hand, even if it means that he will have a constant blush on his face and butterflys in his tummy. If you really are way, WAY to scared tho, he would obviously never force you. You two just walk by the shore collecting some seashells!

@ and if you love/like the ocean, he would shyly ask you if you wanna join him. Like everytime he would ask you. Or at least if you wanna wait for him by the shore.

@ LOVES LOVES LOVES to see your drawings, if you wanna show them that is. He can also draw yk, so someone who shares the same talent would also mean for him to share his supplies. Dw, take them without asking, it's a relationship after all.

@ and if you want you can make designs for his toy projects for the kids!

@ Is just as sensitive as you, maybe more, maybe less. But what is definitely a fact, is that he will comfort you nonetheless. Depends on how you wanna be comforted tho. Bit i think his style would be, have a cup of tea and let it aaaall out. Vent on him, he can listen well.

@ the twins think you two were meant to be-! Really supportive of you two.@ And Father is just as happy, she can't show it, but you're part of the family now sooo...you better not hurt her boy :)

DAN HENG

@ well--if you love writing, you're prefect with dan heng cause he loves reading-

@ would understand if you don't want him to read your written pieces, but would feel very honored if you would show him. Even just a glimpse would get him to praise you.

@ if you do show him--damn he would unintentionally correct your grammar or phrasing. Not that he shits on your grammar, its just-idk how to describe it he means it really nice but in dan heng style it comes off more as cold

@ and the corrections of your phrasings are just ideas on how to change things or make it more interesting. He probably read more books than the whole astral express crew together, like easily.

@ thats why he would get it if you don't wanna show him---he's aware lol

@ BUT! what he would do 100% and nobody can stop him, is reading to you ♡

@ lay in his arms and relax. Let his soothing voice lull you to sleep~ And if you wanna read on your own, do that, he'll wait for you to turn the page.

@ would also 100% discuss what you two read afterwards lol. Like a lil bookclub

@ he can actually cook, very well too. But he always says his skills are nowhere near yours, even if you deny it, he stands his point.

@ gracefully DEVOURS your food and asks for a second plate ♡

@ oh look, someone who also hates small take, yay. You two were so awkward at the beginning of the whole relationship. The beginning of the whole meeting each other for the first time too!

@ it was definitely him who took all the first steps. Even more awkward cause....he only knows the most things form books cause he has no real life experience-

@ made the mistake of asking March-the things he went through just for you-you better be greatful (jkjk)

[yccoffeesimp]

𝑊𝒉𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑂𝑘𝑖𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑒| ??? 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

TW: G0r3 & C@nn¡B@lism at the very end.

You stayed up the entire weekend writing the short story. You didn't want to think too hard about what to write, so you went with the easiest option. Fantasy/ adventure. It was already time for the next club meeting when you finished.

You wanted to show the others but to whom? Choose-

-Blade

-Dan Heng

→ Jing Yuan

-Gepard

->'Best to show Jing Yuan first, after all, he is the president and the one who gave us the assignment.'

You thought. You then slowly began to walk to him with the two flat papers in hand. "Lovely to see you again, Y/n."The ivory white-haired man said, smiling at you.

→ "Nice to see you as well Jing Yuan."

"Oh before I forget, I'd just like to say. If you have any suggestions for anything regarding the club such as activities or problems, don't be afraid to inform me." He said, crossing his arms, his cat-like smile still present on his features.

→ "I'll keep that in mind but I'm going to go with the flow as I get settled in."

"We all need time to earn our footing." He slightly laughed.→

"Say you wanna read the short story I wrote?"

You ask, handing him the papers as he nods. It didn't take long for him to finish reading the two papers of the short story. When he gave the papers back, he had a light smile.

"Excellent work, Y/n, I underestimated your writing capabilities. Say Dan Heng enjoys this type of writing style, the fantasy and the way with words is extremely moving and it paints a picture in your head as if you were in it yourself." He closed his eyes as he spoke, nodding ever so slightly.

→ "You lost me."

"My apologies, I didn't mean to wander. But regardless, it's very well written, and I enjoyed reading it. It captivates the reader and that's what is most important in any form of literature."

→ "Yeah I guess so."

"Since I've read yours, would you like to read mine as well?" He offered.

→ "Sure."

"Sorry if it isn't any good, I'm not as creative as most are." He smiled awkwardly, unfolding his arms across his chest as they landed at his sides again. Reaching for the paper that he had written on, which laid on the desk beside him, before handing it to you.

You took the soft, thin paper examining the words written on it.The story was about a group that called themselves Space Rangers and one of their amazing adventures. The story was rather vivid and from what you could tell no spelling or grammar mistakes. This is to be expected from Jing Yuan after all he is the valedictorian student.

You set the paper down as you looked at Jing Yuan."Is it bad?"He then asked.

→ "Are you kidding me? This is amazing!"

You exclaimed, this caused him to smile."I'm glad you think so, I feel as if I could use more practice on wording it better and try not to go into details a lot. Just proves I have a lot more to learn."

→ "We all could. Well, I'm going to go see what the others wrote. See ya around Jing Yuan."

"If you want to chat more, I'll be here." He smiled before you walked away.

Who's next?

→Dan Heng

-Blade

-Gepard

→ "Maybe I should go see Dan Heng next. He probably has some constructive criticism for my writing. I mean he's writing his own novel so.."

You thought, before walking up to him. He was sitting near the back of the classroom, hunched over that notebook that was said to contain that novel of his. Dan Heng didn't notice you until he looked to see you approaching him.

→ "Hey Dan Heng."

"Greetings {name}, is something the matter?" He asks, setting his pencil down for a brief moment.

→ "I was wondering if you wanted to read the short story we were assigned to read."

You said, you felt your voice slowly become high pitched as to not knowing how to talk to the guy. All you knew was that he was Dan Feng's, the future owner of Vidyadhara Industries, twin brother. He paused for a moment, thinking about your words."I'd be happy to." That was all he said.

You handed your paper to him, his attention immediately went to the paper in his hands. It only took a minute before the paper was handed back to you.

→ "So how was it?"

"It was well written, I must say. The movement with the words... It's unique, it makes you feel as if you're truly there." His words carried honesty and truth, you somehow couldn't help but be flattered.

→ "Thanks."

You plainly said. "I take it that you want to read what I've written for the assignment?" He spoke. You nod as he takes a slip of folded paper out of the notebook he was previously writing in. He passed it onto you, your hands unfolding it. You lightly scanned the paper, his handwriting was neat.. Words were in clear and constructed sentences. It was a small script of the romance genre.

→ "Wow, it's really good. You wrote this by yourself?"

Dan Heng nodded. "Just a small script, a friend of mine says I need to try to write new different genres.Some authors get boresome if they write the same genre over and over.. Or at least that's what they said."

→ "I kinda agree, sometimes the plot just repeats itself a lot."

"Speaking of such.. Any suggestions?"

→ "Huh-For what?"

"For my writing attempt at romance."

→ "Oh- Well I'm not an expert. It's good by my standards. I frankly enjoyed it."

You handed the paper back to him, it was folded neatly as it was before. Dan Heng took the folded material before staring at it for a short while. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He spoke, putting the piece of paper back into the notebook. He then opened to a page and began writing, ignoring your existence once more.

Choose-

→ Blade

-Gepard

Might as well see what Blade wrote. Maybe you could learn more about him. All you knew was that he was one of the troublemakers of the school. Easily had fights and many were sent to the nurse's office on several occasions because of him. You remember having him in your biology class once, he didn't show up except for when it was final exam season.He sat at the back next to one of the windows. His arms crossed along his chest, with his hair covering a majority of his face.

As you walked up to him, you got a closer look. He seemed to be holding a small piece of paper. You didn't realize you were staring at him before he spoke. "Is there a problem.?" He asked, his voice was laced with irritation and annoyance at your actions.

→ "Uh- Not really.. I wanted to ask if you wanted to uh- read the short story thing we were to write..."

He scoffed. "You do realize there are others here who can read the damn story, right.?"

→ "Yeah well I want you to read it."

"Hard pass. Now if you'd excuse me, I'd like to be alone."

→ "Well can I still read yours in the meantime?"

Blade didn't reply but he did look at you for a short while. He groaned, handing you the small piece of paper."If it only means you'll leave me be, take it."

♡- You received Blade's short story!

→ "Don't you want it back?"

"No." His answer was blunt and he looked not in a good mood to continue chatting... Best to leave him be and move to the next person.

But first do you want to read the short story now or later?

Choose-

-Now

→ Later

→ ' I'll read it when I get home from the meeting. I still have to read Gepard's.'

Gepard was near the podium of the classroom, he seemed to be writing something down before his eyes caught you walking towards him."Oh- Hey {name}, is there something you need?" He asked, trying to cover up the paper he was writing on.

→ "Yeah, just wondering if you wanted to read my assignment and to check up on ya."

"Oh- Well, I'm doing fine at the moment. Also, I'd be glad to read it. I heard from Jing Yuan that it was really good." The blonde smiled. You hand him the piece of paper. He gently took it in his hands before reading it. Now that you looked closer at him. He almost looked tired yet he always slept in. The eye bags he had were barely noticeable but they were still there. Your train of thought was interrupted by Gepard handing the piece of paper back. "Like I said, it's amazing."

→"H-huh?"

Did Gepard say something when you were spacing out? "{Name}? Are you alright?"

→ "I'm fine, Gepard... Just thinking and thank you for thinking it was amazing."

You smiled. A small smile followed from Gepard when you did.

→ "Can I read yours now?"

Gepard froze, looking away from you for a moment. "The thing is...-"

→ "You forgot to write one."

Gepard nodded. That was probably why when you left Jing Yuan, Gepard went up to him. Probably to inform him that he forgot to write a short story. "I haven't had time to, you know how much of a handful five-year-olds are..."

→ "Lynx really is giving you and Serval a rough time then if you didn't have enough time to write a story."

He nodded.

→ "Ah, I see. Anyways, what were you writing earlier?"

Your gaze falls on to the piece of paper on the podium. Gepard followed your gaze to the paper. "The short story.."

→ "Speed writing?"

"I have it already written but I haven't proofread it yet."

→ "I can do it for you."

Gepard smiled at you. "I don't want to bother you with it {name}, I can proofread it-"

→ "I insist. It's the least I can do for you."

Gepard thought for a moment before sighing. He gave you the now slightly wrinkled paper for you to read.Some sentences didn't make sense but then again it wasn't proofread. The short story was a historical fiction of the history of Gepard's hometown. The scenery of Belobog was different from the scenery of the Honkai Star City. Snow-covered meadows, a chilling breeze... It was a winter wonderland from what Gepard described it to be as back then before the Eternal Freeze. You took a pencil and helped Gepard rewrite some sentences.

As you helped him though, you couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes watching you as you did so. You looked up from the paper the paper briefly and saw no one was looking and the feeling vanished. But when you looked back at the paper, the feeling returned. You pushed the feeling away as you tried to focus on the story.

"Thank you,{name}, for the help," Gepard said once the proofreading was done.

→ "No need to thank me, just doing my duty as your friend."

"Still... It means a lot." He shortly smiled. He opened his mouth to say something else before a loud crash sounded. Your attention snapped to a broken teapot on the floor at the back of the classroom. Boiling water poured from the now shattered object. Dan Heng and Blade stood in front of it, a shocked expression on Dan Heng's face and a rather annoyed expression on Blade's. "Crap.." Dan Heng mumbled as he went to grab the broom from the closet at the back.

Blade simply stared at the mess before completely walking over it. "Well, that's the first.." Gepard mumbled.

→ "First of what?"

Gepard looked at you before looking back at Blade and Dan Heng. "Normally when they even interact with each other, there's always an argument that follows before Jing Yuan breaks it up. But strangely they haven't been arguing.."

→ "They argue a lot?"

The blonde nodded. "We don't know why but they really hate each other. We never really questioned it either." He shrugged as Dan Heng came back to clean the broken ceramic.

→ "Imma go help Dan Heng real quick."

You grabbed some stray papers from your bag before walking to Dan Heng to pick up the spilled water. The floor was dried and the teapot was thrown away. "Thank you for helping, {name}."

→ "It's no problem. Just helping a fellow club member."

Dan Heng gave a short nod, but you could've sworn he smiled too.

-×-

Jing Yuan clapped his hands together. "I'm happy to say this concludes our second meeting with our new member." He started, his cat-like smile on his features. "After sharing our short stories, how does everyone feel?" He turned to look at Gepard first.

"It was nice," Gepard answered.

Then he looked at Dan Heng.

"It was quite helpful." He replied.

Then at Blade.

"It was... eventful." He scoffed.

And then lastly at you.

→"It was interesting."

Jing Yuan nodded, his arms crossing in front of his chest. "I'm glad to hear we all have at least positive outlooks on today's activity. Perhaps we can do the same tomorrow but as for now, the club meeting is over." And with that, you began to walk home. The sun was already setting with the moon peeking its head out ready to take its shift in the sky.

-♡Blade's Short Story: ......The blood sprayed over the walls. Agonizing screams echoed throughout the halls, a blade dragging across the skin of the captive. A maniacal laugh follows, their eyes looking longing at the beating heart in their hand. Blood oozing from the organ as its former owner's limbs became limp. "Finally mine... all, all mine..."

A voice said. They tilled the organ upside down over their mouth. The blood poured from the heart's atriums into their mouths."Not enough, not enough.." They gasped before throwing the dead heart away. Now ripping at the throat and torso of the dead body. "I can't- Need more.." They gasped one more time before all humanity in them was lost...

~Fin~

Pins: @sarcastic-cookie

[lixenn]

OCtober 2024 day 1: fav OC

To no ones surprise my favourite is my main guy Daniele Costa aka Chief because let's be real here I can talk about him for ages. I love Dave to bits but Chief was my first proper OC for a fanfic and I'm most familiar with him. He accompanied me through tough times (aka thesis hell) and through him I was able to meet you guys! And I love you all to bits! So Chief is my dude! My tired bean that is in desperate need of a vacation and a nap (I think he might also be my fav because I relate to him so much lmao).

I made the drawing but I've also written a snippet where I used @zoroara's OCtober prompt day 1: foamy as a writing prompt (just so people are aware: I'm sticking to the #bweirdoctober prompts for this year but I had this snippet pre-written for ages and I don't wanna just let it let it rot in my documents. So I hope it's alright that I add this here 👉👈)

@myrmyrtheorca have Sam :)

The washroom looked like a bomb exploded in it. Foam everywhere, floor just one big puddle of water, one wall absolutely riddled with suspicious cracks and the washing machine was smoking like chimney in a frosty winter. At this point Dan feared stepping into the room just in case the ceiling would fall on his head.

He pinched his nose, once again regretting well … every single choice that brought him to this moment.

“Why?”

His question resembled more of a plea for divine intervention than an actual inquiry.

Why indeed.

Why is he awake at - he checked his watch - way-too-fucking-early o’clock? Why is he dealing with this? Why did he ever decide to work for the Varia? Once again, why is he awake right now?

“Ummm…”

He turned to his subordinates who had grouped themselves together in a trembling pile, which probably functioned as some form of moral support.

Dan narrowed his eyes at the pile not bothering to find out who actually spoke up.

“Well,” he said, tapping his foot. “Why am I here?”

A panicked and telepathic exchange of looks followed to determine which poor schmuck would need to answer his question. In the end Sam - four months, cleaning crew, allergic against bees - was shoved to the front like a sacrificial lamb. She was certainly shaking like one.

Honestly, it’s not like he will eat them. Unlike Vlasta he had standards for what entered his mouth.

Dan raised his eyebrow at the woman who clearly wished for the ground to swallow her whole.

“I am waiting.”

Her eyes skittered around the room steadily avoiding his gaze until they eventually focus on the broken washing machine. Resigned, she slumped into herself.

“The washing machine blew up.”

“Clearly,” Dan said, his tone the only dry thing in the entire room. “This doesn’t answer my question.” He stepped closer to his subordinate, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face until she was caught directly in his piercing stare.

“Tell me, Sam, why has Varia’s Chief of Staff been dragged out of bed to deal with one. Singular. Destroyed. Room?”

To her credit Sam did neither break eye contact nor did she start crying. However, her skin took a rather ashen parlour and if she bit her lip any harder there would be blood dropping down her chin.

“I- we- ummm…” she stuttered, trying to come up with some excuse that would save this situation.

Dan simply waited. And waited. And waited some more. In the end the silence dragged on for too long and Sam looked one second away from a panic attack, so he came to the conclusion that his last lecture of being kept in the loop had backfired on him. Apparently, his employees took the subject matter so much to heart and are now running to him in a panic for the most trivial of matters.

Time to correct that misconception.

He let go of Sam and addressed the hoard in its entirety.

“I was told it was emergency. Do you know what I qualify as an emergency?” He didn’t give them an opportunity to answer and started counting off incidents on his fingers. “Any of the assassin's going on a rampage. The castle actively burning down. PoisonChem messing with the water supply again. Or God forbid, my coffee supply mysteriously vanishing. You know what isn’t included on that list? Property destruction so minor it doesn't even make a dent into our repair budget.”

He crossed his arms, his whole being screaming displeasure and disappointed in all of their decision making skills. “Now, you are going to clean up this mess.” One of the newbies in the hoard furrowed his eyebrows, rebellion clear on his face.

Well, we can’t have that.

Dan clicked his tongue. “I will hear no argument. Apparently you weren’t able to deal with this yourself, since you deemed my presence a necessity. Well, here I am, giving you the orders you needed. Sort this out, get the Reps for the wall and ask Logistics if they have a spare washing machine on hand.” His words were met with frozen bodies and blank stares. “Did I fucking stutter? Move it!”

What followed could only be described as productive chaos which was an accurate summary of day to day happenings of Varia Housekeeping. It involved a lot of swearing, whacking people with brooms and the occasional breakdown about the horror of the week. How any cleaning gets done in this process was a mystery to Dan, but he will not argue with the results (unless the results are sloppy in which case he will make arrangements).

He turned to leave, fully intending to crawl under his blanket again. But before fully exiting the room, he looked back once more.

“And Sam?”

“Y-yes?”

“I want a full report on the culprits of this mess. Have it on my desk on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday!” she squeaked. “But Chief, it’s Monday!”

His smile was neither kind nor particularly nice. “Better hurry then.”

[every-name-is-taken-but-this]

Neil Josten, the man that you are

I've written and rewritten this meeting a dozen times and either i decide to change it, or Neil simply starts doing something unexpected and then we're off on a side tangent that i didn't anticipate

In all fairness to him, he's been awake for 96 hours straight and has been hallucinating all kinds of stuff and freaking out, and kinda... not doing any part of the grieving process, but he's *fine*

But i think i finally have the meeting fixed, in part i was thinking of conversations Neil is going to have later with the Foxes and imagining the ridiculous answers he would give to figure out where this was going but a lot of those ideas didn't make the cut so, just for fun, here's some conversations that almost existed in this story lol

-----------

(In a universe where Neil thwarts a kidnapping attempt, by kidnapping the victim himself, accidentally)

Nicky: so? How did you meet you're soulmate? Tell us everything

Neil: I stole a car, she was in the trunk, so i stole her too, then, later, i stole her heart

Everyone: O.O what?

--------

(In a universe where Neil beats the statistics for pedestrians surviving being hit by vehicles going faster than 15 mph)

Aaron: I can't believe you hit your soulmate with a racquet the first time you met

Nicky: not a great first impression

Andrew: *glaring at them, but noticeably not correcting them*

Neil: that's not so bad, the other soulmate hit me with her car, i think maybe it's a sign

Aaron: that even your soulmates wanna hit you?

Nicky: that they would have a big *impact* on you <3?

Neil: .... probably that i need to be more careful when I'm running?

------------

(in a universe where Neil gets into a fight with a random 3rd party because he's a menace)

Matt: I fell for Dan immediately, love at first sight <3

Neil: that's nice

Matt: what about you?

Neil: she took my breath away

Allison: that's surprisingly romantic, coming from you

Neil: well, it was a really impressive hook kick, wish she'd hit the other guy, but *shrugs* it ended the fight

Matt: :(

Allison: no one bet on that >:(

------------

none of these are what i ended up going with, but they were funny ideas to play around with and i thought I'd share

(I've decided when i finish the prologue I'll post it here for now, and I'm thinking I'll jump from that to leaving Millport, and if people are curious about things that happen in between then i can always write some extra content)