#hes going to try to post regularly again

[yourfavehaskenergy]

Ianto Jones from Torchwood?

Ianto Jones from Torchwood had Kenergy!

[i-m-snek]

"Why was Steve Irwin praised for free handling venomous animals, yet freehandlers today are condemned?"

(I live in the US, so this post and reference to law makers/the hobby is very US centric. Keep that in mind as you read, please) Let's pull back and take a look at -how- the free handling was approached when it came to Steve. At the beginning of each of his shows, there were several warnings posted, telling viewers how dangerous what he was doing was, not to try it at home, and that he is a trained professional with years of experience and access to anti venom. These warnings were repeated several times through out the the episode, both by Steve himself and the narrator. The animals were treated with respect, he would often avoid the head being to close to him, and he did it to show the lack of maliciousness of these animals. He also had an entire crew with him, so if he were to get bit he could be transported for treatment quickly and efficiently. His entire goal was education, not clout. Free handling keepers nowadays (A majority of the time) do not have any warnings on their free handling photos and videos. They post selfies with these dangerously venomous animals as if it's the most normal thing for regular people to handle them. There's nothing saying that it's dangerous, that it should only be done by professionals, etc. This encourages people who post on the internet for clout to try this, because it gets them attention. These people regularly have the faces of the animals close to their body, and in their hands, again, with no 'do not try this at home' warnings. Just photos as if the animal is not venomous. In a lot of places, training is not required to own venomous animals. You can go online, buy a venomous snake, and often times the person selling the venomous snake won't even ask questions. Dangerous animals are easier than ever to get a hold of, which makes the nonchalance of free handlers even more dangerous. It's not about putting themselves in danger, it's about encouraging others to do the same. Often time these venomous keepers that freehandle do so alone, with no one else around. In the event of a bite, the person may not be able to transport themselves to a hospital for treatment. They often also don't have anti venom on hand. A free handler getting bitten and dying can put the entire reptile keeping hobby in danger because the vast majority of people who write laws, know nothing about the difference in species. They do not care if the snakes are venomous or not, they will see that someone died from a snake bite, see all snakes and go 'this is dangerous' whether it be a corn snake or a cobra.

[smiteswrites]

A Different Kind of Pain

Part One

Description: After losing a gem of a next door neighbor, Jack worries what the new resident will be like. Instead of a young obnoxious college kid, he meets you. Instantly struck by your warm nature (and good looks but he won't admit to that), Jack finds himself drawn to you in a way he hasn't experienced in years.

Tags: reader is a chemistry grad student bc i say so, shameless self insert, fem!reader, trying to avoid too many specific descriptors on readers appearance but i am new to this, reader is shorter than jack, widower!Jack, Jack talks ab therapy, trying to do justice to the fact that Jack is an amputee, but again I am not an expert, just some fluff and feelings, eventual smut, and so mdni 18+

A/N: Thank you all for the encouragement on the first version of this! It has been really really amazing to know people enjoy my ideas and writing and absolutely wild that y'all want more. I really love this idea and have many many plans for these two. I hope to get part two written and out this week. I am thinking around 3-4 parts total, but we shall see. This is starts similar to this post, but I made some changes and expanded quite a bit. I hope you enjoy and please send me asks/dms if you have any suggestions/comments/feedback on anything! I am always open to improving and learning.

gif credit - @iluvseb | divider credit - @cursed-carmine

Part One - 3k

Jack has been living in the left half of a red brick duplex, unit 101A, long enough to see a handful of tenants come and go on the right side, 102A. There was a college kid whose prefrontal cortex was just underdeveloped enough for him to be nothing but a pain in Jack’s ass. Needless to say, not his favorite neighbor. Then there was a young couple who were perfectly lovely until they had to move somewhere with two bedrooms to accommodate an incoming little one (Jack had been sure to give them his number in case they ever needed a friend in the ED). Most recently an older woman, Mrs. McAlister, who had regularly brought Jack all manner of baked goods and leftovers, had moved out and into her daughter's house. 

The unfortunate loss of Mrs. McAlister’s cooking meant that the right half of his duplex (and yes he thought of it as his by this point) was empty. Jack couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread creep in as he watched the last of Mrs. McAlister’s things be packed into a UHaul on Saturday afternoon. Would his new neighbor be another sweet elderly woman? Or would he get stuck with some obnoxious twenty something with no common courtesy? 

Fortunately for Jack, he didn’t have to wait long to find out. Housing got snatched up fast in a city like Pittsburgh, especially housing that was halfway decent and affordable, so it was no surprise that 102A was empty for under 48 hours. 

His first glimpse of the new tenant comes when Jack is arriving back home from a shift, just before 8 am on a Monday. He isn’t surprised to see a moving truck out front, nor is he surprised to see you directing the two movers on where to put furniture and boxes. He can tell you're young, in your twenties is his guess, which immediately sets his nerves on edge. Jack doesn’t think he can handle anymore house parties or loud hookups or trash left out. But you have a quiet, competent air about you that seems to indicate you aren't going to cause a ruckus. You appear to be alone, aside from the movers. He finds himself looking for evidence of a partner, husband, wife, without really meaning to. Forcing himself to not be overly nosy, Jack moves past the two men, now carrying part of a bed frame, and lets himself into 101. 

After a shower and the last of Mrs. McAlister’s roast (bless that woman), Jack is dressed in grey sweats and a black t-shirt, ready for bed. Despite the sleep threatening to overcome him, he finds himself looking out his window to check in on the status of your move. Apparently you had gotten here early, because he can see you handing the movers a wad of cash and sending them on their way. Before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbed his prosthetic and is hurrying to get the damn thing back on so he can step back outside. He may as well catch you as you’re heading back inside, introduce himself, make sure he doesn’t need to be concerned about having another pain in his ass next door. It is the neighborly thing to do after all, he reasons. 

Another moment finds him a couple steps outside his door, clearing his throat to catch your attention from where you’re examining the front facing window of 102. 

“I’m Jack. Abbot. I’m in 101. Figured I should introduce myself, welcome you to the neighborhood and all.” He outstretches his hand, wondering if a handshake is still what people do these days.

Smiling, you shake his hand firmly and give him your name, he lets out a quiet sigh of relief. It is at this moment Jack finally takes you in fully. He was right, he thinks, you must be in your mid twenties, no ring on your finger, and certainly not a pain in his ass. You stand a handful of inches shorter than him, just enough that you have to look up to make eye contact. The smile you are giving him is radiant in a way that makes his stomach feel tight. He can see you’re flushed from the exertion of carrying boxes and helping to move furniture, and your hair has begun to fall from where you had it back. 

But even though you aren’t at your most put together, Jack is left feeling off balance, as he can only see you as the most raw and real kind of beautiful. The kind of beauty that comes with a bright smile, dewy skin, and pink chinks. The kind that has as much to do with physical appearance as it does a person’s character. The kind of beauty that reminds him of his late wife when they first met. Even though he is just meeting you, Jack likes to think his gut is usually right about people, and his gut is telling him that you are exactly the type of kind, caring, intelligent person that spells nothing but trouble for him.

“It’s very nice to meet you Jack! I hope the movers weren’t too much of a disturbance, it seems like a quiet little haven around here.” 

“About as close to a haven as you can get in the city,” he agrees with a small smile. “And don’t mention it, you weren’t a disturbance at all.” 

In the few minutes the two of you spend chatting he finds out you’re a fourth year graduate student, “A PhD in chemistry? You might just be a bigger masochist than me.” You somehow work nearly as many hours as he does, and he finds your work ethic dizzyingly attractive. You moved to the area in the hope of finding somewhere a little quieter, some place where you didn’t feel like people were packed in like sardines. You aren’t from PA, but you have a couple close friends in town and your family tries to visit often. You confirm his suspicions when you tell him you’re single and don’t have any kids or pets so there shouldn’t be any noise waking him up through the night.

“Actually, I’m an attending in the ED, usually on night shift. Sounds like you aren't home much during the day, but-” 

“Don’t worry Jack, I’ll keep it down during the day too. You can always bang on the wall if I’m being to loud,” 

He feels the corners of his mouth twitch up. “Thanks, sweetheart.” It slips before he can catch up to his mouth. Even though he knows he shouldn’t be giving you nicknames, and definitely not that kind, the pink that dusts your cheeks at the term of endearment is enough to make him want to call you nothing else. 

“Uh- listen I’ve gotta get to bed, but let me give you my number in case you need anything.  Neighbor or doctor wise,” he says, shooting you a wink. 

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you doctor.” 

And god, he knows you mean it in a teasing way, but it does nothing to help the steadily growing attraction he feels towards you. He knows he is at least 15 years too old, and far too emotionally unavailable to even entertain the idea of being with you. He knows. But when you smile at him like he’s just offered to hang the moon and stars for you, he really doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

It’s just his number, no harm in you having it, and certainly no reason it has to have any underlying intention behind it. That’s what he tells himself anyway. 

He puts his number in your phone when you hand it to him, putting “Jack Abbot” as the name and “the guy in 101A and doctor at PTMC” in the notes for good measure. You thank him again, giving his hand a squeeze as he returns the phone. You say your goodbyes, and he retreats into his black out curtain and noise machine generated paradise. The last thing he sees before shutting his eyes is a text from an unknown number with your name, just so he can save your number too. 

You are going to be a pain in his ass alright, a kind he didn’t even think to be worried about. 

After your initial introduction, Jack assumes (worries) the two of you won't see much of each other. During your initial meeting, in an effort to reassure him you wouldn’t make too much noise during the day, you had inadvertently given him your schedule: 6:45 am leave for work, 7-5 ish suffer, 5:30 pm arrive home from work. With anyone else he would be glad to know that there would be no one next door to disturb his sleep, but instead he could only focus on the fact that he would rarely, if ever, run into you. 

His assumption proved to be correct for the first two weeks of your time in 102A, only seeing you on occasion as he left for work. But, about halfway through week three, Jack wakes up earlier than normal. By the time 5:30 pm rolls around and he’s supposed to be on call for another 13.5  hours, he feels himself starting to get restless. It’s a nice day outside with a high of 75 and a low of 52, the sun has set enough to cast an orange glow on the city, but not enough that it’s going to be dark soon, and Jack has a rare burst of energy. His therapist has been telling him some sunshine goes a long way, and he didn’t spend all that money on the fucking sports prosethic to not use it. 

By 5:42 pm Jack is in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, sports prosthetic on. He makes it about two steps out his front door, still adjusting the stupid prosthetic, when he senses he isn't alone. Straightening up, he realizes you’ve just come out of your front door as well. His gaze travels upwards from your feet as he makes his way to his full height. You’re dressed similar to himself in athletic shorts with a matching jacket, and he has to force himself to not linger on the exposed skin of your legs. When he does meet your eyes, he finds you smiling at him in a way that suggests you caught his little slip up, but are too polite to mention it. 

“Hey Jack! Are you heading out for an evening run? Well- I guess it would technically be morning for you, sorry,” You laugh at yourself lightly, cheeks coloring only the slightest bit. Whether it’s from embarrassment at the slip up or something else he can’t be sure. 

Either way, he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I still consider this to be evening. I am a proud night lurker, there is no part of me that wants to be waking up before 3 pm.” A small fit of giggles overtakes you, and he feels his smile turn into something more genuine. 

“But no, not much of a runner,” he gestures to his right leg where the prosthetic is on display. “I’m on call tonight and can’t do much besides hang out here, figured a walk might do me some good.” 

To your credit, your expression only falters slightly when you take in his leg, quickly recovering to match his eye contact as you listen. You nod, humming warmly in agreement, still keeping your eyes locked on his. “I have to agree. I’m also not much of a runner but I try to walk after lab most days. I think it’s a great way to reset after a long day.” 

“Sounds like you’re the evening walk expert then?” 

“Something like that,” you joke back. 

Jack knows that the conversation is winding down, it’s time for him to wish you a good walk and find a reason to hang back until you go on your way. Wait to see which direction you turn before beginning to walk in the opposite way. But Jack also knows that you’ve been looking at him with an attentiveness that, while he gives freely, is rarely if ever matched. If there were ever a sign of not wanting a conversation to end, he thinks the way you’re looking at him is surely it. 

Fuck it. 

“Well, I’m new to this whole walking for fun thing, maybe you could show me the best route to take?” 

Your eyes brighten, “Of course! I mean, obviously I’m new to the area, but I think I’ve found a good path. It’s about 30 minutes, if that’s good with you?” 

“Of course, lead the way,” he gestures forward with his hand, indicating for you to lead the way, leaning forward slightly as he does so. If you notice the way he stumbles forward slightly as his weight shifts on an unfamiliar right foot, you don’t say anything. But Jack swears he you’re biting the inside of your cheek to fight off a grin as you walk down the steps. 

Fucking sports prosthetic. 

The walk is… nice. Nicer than Jack expected. He can hear the birds chirping in the trees that are awkwardly implanted in the sidewalk. He can hear the sounds of the city too (sirens, honking, a plane overhead) but they’re less pronounced than normal. The two of you walk side by side as you lead him through parts of his neighborhood he’s never really taken the time to look at. You point out a café that apparently ‘makes a mean oat milk latte.’ 

“I hate to fulfill the old white guy stereotype, but I only drink my coffee black.” Self-deprecation as a form of self-defence, the oldest trick in the book. 

“As horrifying as that information is,” you begin, closing your eyes and placing a hand on your chest, “I also can get behind a black coffee, so if you’re calling yourself old you’re gonna have to call me old too.” You smile at him and make eye contact for only a moment before breaking looking at the pavement a few feet ahead of you.

“Besides, you have got to be the sexiest ‘old guy’ I’ve ever seen so I’d be wearing that badge proudly if I were you.” You put your hands up in mock defensiveness and accentuate your point with air quotes. 

He really isn’t sure what to do with himself besides laugh. Looking at you now, he could tell that even if you were uncertain, you were not the type of woman to let him get away with putting himself down. Nothing to do but admit defeat. 

“I think I’ll be quite happy with that title.” 

By the time the duplex is coming back into view Jack has learned that you’ve been walking everyday for years after a suggestion from a therapist. He’s learned that you “actually thought about going to medical school, but turns out biology and me don’t get along.” He’s also relearned more about chemistry than he ever hoped he would have to after asking the simple question “What does your lab research?” 

He had told you his own therapist had suggested he ‘get his ass outside’ more often, and that maybe the shrink was right more often than he wanted to give the guy credit for. He also shared one of his gorrier work stories and had been impressed when you were hanging on to his every word rather than going green. More importantly, he had only let himself spend about 3 minutes total looking at the way the sunlight caught your hair, or the way it framed your face as it fell from the loose bun you had it in, or at your lips as you spoke rather than your face, or at the necklace laying against the soft place where your neck met your collar bones. Just 3 minutes, not bad at all, practically a record. 

As you approach the front steps you hesitate, and he feels it too, he thinks. The uncertainty of where the two of you stand with one another. Jack knows where he stands, and he has a feeling he knows where you do too, he hadn’t been the only one with a staring problem. But even if Jack thinks he knows, he doesn’t really know. 

“Thank you for sharing your route with me, I think I was right to call you the walk expert.” He shoots you a trademark Abbot smirk, trying to put a lid on whatever feelings may or may not have been simmering during the past 30 minutes. 

“Anytime Jack, it was nice to have some company.” The smile you give him in return is softer, warmer than his own. For not the first time, and certainly not the last, he feels torn about how to approach you. He knows this feeling, he’s felt it before and it landed him in a world of heartbreak and pain. It was a place he’s worked hard to move on from, and thank god he can see now that while yes feelings, raw and vulnerable, can end in pain they are also what make life worth living. 

He isn’t sure where the two of you stand, after all you’ve barely started to get to know each other. However, he is sure that he wants to at least give himself the chance to find out, no matter how scary or stupid a choice it might be.  

“Well… maybe we could do this again sometime? I know my therapist would throw a fucking party if he got word of me not only being out in daylight but also socializing outside of work.” 

“I’d love that,” you smile wider now, staring at your feet briefly and rocking back on your heels slightly before looking back up at him. “I’ll be here a little after 5:30 pretty much everyday, join me whenever you like. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he feels his own expression melt into something so sickly sweet his cheeks hurt. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“Goodnight, Jack.”

[highdramas]

in terms of your recent post, maybe abbot x professional athlete! reader — (volleyball/gymnastics/swim/soccer etc.) she comes in for a devastating ACL tear or something of the like and he’s the one who treats her? maybe jack recognizes her because robby & him would catch your teams games every now and he’s caught off guard seeing you up close, and afterwards reader stops by a couple days later to drop by some tickets to the next match and perhaps her phone number…

spinning out | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!figure skater!reader warnings: language, angst with a happy ending, age gap (unspecified, but reader is late early 30s and jack is mid/late 40s), almost certain medical inaccuracies because i have no idea what i'm talking about but i researched and did my best <3 word count: 3.4k summary: you are pittsburgh's sweetheart, the ice princess, the hometown hero. when you come into the emergency room on the worst day of your life, jack is the one who meets his match. notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. i once again took some liberties with this request, but i hope that you enjoy it! i decided to make reader a figure skater! one of my many favorite fixations! not proofread so apologies for errors <3

the screaming that comes from chairs is enough to get the attention of any tuned-in physician or nurse. but it especially gets jack’s attention– because it’s not just screams that indicate pain, or fear. there’s just… general commotion. and that can be a lot more dangerous than anything else.

everyone in the chairs is on their feet– if they can be. jack and dana barrel out, trying to parse out what exactly it is that’s happening. but the second that he lays his eyes on you, he knows why.

you’re the face known all around pittsburgh. your face is on many billboards, definitely in the newspaper, and regularly on the local news. and it’s been this way since jack moved to pittsburgh, back in 2015. at the time, he remembers you looking so fresh faced– only twenty, and you were on track to be one of the best figure skaters in the world. call it morbid curiosity, but jack had kept up with your career, loosely, in the way that most people who lived in pittsburgh is. that's what he told himself, anyway.

“alright, alright, everyone sit the fuck down and stop crowding around her,” jack calls, approaching you and the gaggle of people who surround you. you still wear a dazzling outfit, catching every single light and refracting it back out. your feet are socked but there are no skates to be found, and two people on either side of you helping hold you up right-- barely. you look abysmal, when you finally make eye contact with him– mascara trails down your cheeks, hairs are out of place, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen an expression so… hardened. “come on, we’ll help you. dana– get a wheelchair.”

jack helps the people he learns are your coaches transfer you to the wheelchair. you still haven’t uttered a word– you just look down at your hands, pick the skin around your cuticles. “we think it’s an acl tear,” your coach says to jack. “happened during a competition. a smaller one, thankfully. we don’t need that kind of scrutiny.” this makes jack’s face screw up slightly, but he continues to listen. “we just– we’ve gotta have her back on the ice next week.”

“dana, go ahead and wheel her back to south-9, i’ll be right in.” jack turns his attention to your coach. a stark woman, small eyes, full lips, very obviously tanned. “alright,” he claps his hands together. “you all are going to have to stay out here. we’re very packed in the er, so i can’t have you back. we’ll come out and grab you when we have an update. okay?”

he can tell that this doesn’t please her, but he doesn’t really care. because while she’s bemoaning the possibility of more people bearing witness to what is likely one of the worst moments of your life– not for your sake, but for the sake of image… jack knows himself. he won’t be able to work effectively with that type of squawking in his ear.

when he goes to central, he points at dana. “don’t let coach and company in. feel me?”

“i feel you, boss,” she says without looking up from her computer. “donnie’s in there right now, but she’s ready for you.” she looks up at jack, plucking her readers off. “never a dull moment, huh? we got celebrities now!”

he tries to find it amusing, but then he remembers the look on your face, and he can’t find the humor within the situation. he simply squeezes dana’s shoulder, turns around, and takes a deep breath before he enters south-9.

–

the door opens. click shuts. you hardly hear it– all you hear is the blood in your ears. all you feel is the throbbing in your knee. all you know is that it’s over.

you took pride in what you do. you love ice skating– as an art form, as a way that you have honed your body over many, many years. you’re proud of all of the regional, national, world competitions you’ve won– you’re proud of all of that. and really, you only wanted one more thing. you knew it was a stretch, you knew it was a strain on your body, you knew, at 30, some think you’re too old for your sport… but it didn’t matter.

you just wanted to win gold. once in your life.

you’ve had silver, and bronze, you’ve gotten close to gold the last two olympics– neck and neck with your competitor, who ultimately, worked harder. was better than you. that’s what you tell yourself. that’s what your coaches have told you, to push you. your family doesn’t say it, but you feel it radiating off of them.

you don’t need the doctor to tell you that it’s over. you felt it the second that you landed wrong and crumpled to the ice, a glittering pile of dreams that will never be realized. you cried, not from the pain– you know pain intimately, have walked side by side with pain your entire life. you cried because it was all for nothing.

“hi. i’m dr. abbot.”

you don’t respond.

he sits in one of those spinny stools that all doctors use. you finally glance at him. “you don’t have to say it,” you wipe at your cheeks. “6-8 weeks until i can get back on the ice after an ACL tear. this isn’t my first tear, so i’ll likely need grafting surgery. so who knows how much further that would set me back.”

“wow. you want my job?” he tries to crack the tension but it’s no use. not really.

you’re approaching catatonic.

but it’s like a nail pops a balloon, and suddenly, all that you are is a heaving, sobbing mess.

the doctor– dr. abbot– sits with you. at one point, he offers you a tissue. then, the trash bin to throw it. and then, his hand.

you don’t think twice before you take it. you take it and you squeeze and you use it to tether yourself because everything feels like it’s floating away from you– a career, a dream, a desire.

but other things, too.

pain. being talked down upon. only being useful for one thing.

he doesn’t leave. he doesn’t even move a muscle. others try to come in and swap out and at one point you swear he says, “shen, fuck off, i’m busy.”

you don’t know how long you cry. you’re exhausted after. and itchy, because this stupid outfit clings in every spot that hurts and it feels like a humiliation ritual more than anything else, at this point.

“can i–” your throat is scratchy, and jack hands you a water bottle. you chug at it, greedy. “can i get a gown? and–” you look around, as if scared that they might be there behind you. “tell my coaches to fuck off and go home?”

a small smile creeps onto jack’s features. “yes, i can do that.” he hesitates before he stands up. “we’re gonna get you all checked out. see what we can do for you, and what orthopedic surgery is going to need to do. and we’ll be able to determine how long until you can skate again. alright?”

you nod your head. he finds your eyes. “we got you. alright?” tears are still brimming, hanging off your eyelashes like the saddest dew drops known to man.

–

it doesn’t look good. your assessment of your injury was largely accurate, jack found, when he began his examination of your knee with a delicate touch– being as intune with your body as you are, jack isn’t surprised. he comes back with x-rays and brings in ellis to observe. “you’re smart, i’ll give you that,” he says as he enters the room, and he’s proud of himself when you smile. you’re changed, and he thinks that someone must have given you a makeup wipe, because your face is fresh and beautiful and he has to clear his throat before he continues with his diagnosis and what he’d recommend for treatment.

“you’re looking at, maybe 16 weeks before you can get back out. and that’s entirely dependent on how you heal after the surgery. and even if you do start skating, you’re going to need to take it slow.” he finds your eyes. this is the kind of news that he hates delivering, and he thinks if he has to do it, he can at least look someone in the eye while doing it. they’re beautiful– and they have a depth to them that he doesn’t find in most. you’re not scared off by his eye contact. you maintain it with little effort. “i’m sorry.”

the chuckle that you let out causes a shiver to run down his spine. it’s so humorless, that it creates a chasm inside of him that wants nothing more than to make it better. “yeah, of course it is.” you lean your head back. “the press will be here soon.”

jack and ellis share a glance. “your team is talking to them outside, we believe,” ellis says with a wince.

you smirk. “ah. of course.” you look back to abbot. “thank you for your help. i’m sorry i’m wretched. just…” you shrug. “what a shitty fucking day.”

“yeah, i don’t doubt it.” he chews on his lip. “can we arrange to have someone else pick you up once you’re cleared?”

“there’s no one else,” you say seamlessly. “i’ll call an uber.”

it’s odd, he thinks to himself. seeing you up close and personal, real. he would’ve thought you were entirely delicate, a beautiful flower kept in a box, plucked out, and put onto the ice to entrance everyone who watches you. but you’re so human and alive and he can sense this way that you’ve been treated, and when you say there’s no one else except these people who look at you as a product, a brand, a liability… something snaps.

“we’ll arrange to have someone take you home. it’s a risk to have you take any sort of public transportation where someone can’t assist you into your home.”

you look between the two physicians. your eyes land on jack and he thinks that you might fight it– but then, you concede, and give a meek nod of your head, and he feels that tightening in his chest that he keeps experiencing. he wants to wrap you up and hide you away– far away from those people taking advantage of you.

he’s just starstruck. that's what he decides to chalk it up to.

–

dr. jack abbot does ensure you’re driven home by someone. he is very professional, and polite, as he instructs you on when to return to the hospital for a pre-op appointment, and how to manage your pain in the meantime.

eventually, you do have surgery. eventually, you’re back in PTMC, and your eyes trail on the emergency department as you go past it, wondering if you might be able to sneak a glimpse of him.

you fire your coaches. you tell your team to fuck off. your publicist can hardly get ahold of you, and, naturally, everyone wants a statement. it makes you laugh to think about it. yeah, you’d like a statement too, you think. bitter. always so bitter in those first weeks after.

once you start recovering from surgery, the bitterness dissipates, but you certainly don’t sweeten to what has happened to you. you watch with bloodshot eyes, the footage of it happening. you’re rapt with it, and it’s a little sadistic, you think to yourself– but you can see the exact moment of the tear. the exact moment everything shifts.

that night, you write find a therapist down on a to-do list.

your first session, as you recount the story to her, you get hung up on the portion in the emergency room. you explain it in great detail, and when it gets to your doctor… “i broke,” you admit with a shrug. “i broke in the emergency room. and the doctor, he stayed. you know– sonja, and marci, they were both out there. yes, he asked them to stay back, but it was because even the doctor could see it. that they didn’t care about me. they didn’t care if i was okay. they cared that i wasn’t functional anymore.” you stop yourself. steel yourself. “but he stayed with me. he held my hand when he cried. and i can’t…” you look down at your hands, pick at already raw cuticles. “i couldn’t remember the last time someone was so nice to me, just for the sake of being nice.”

your therapist suggests you go back, and thank dr. abbot. you think this is a good idea, but you’ve spent so much time being an ice skater, you don’t know if you really know how to be a human being anymore. how do you talk about anything that’s not a diet, choreography plans, workout regimine, or regional scores? do you know how to be earnest, and real, and honest?

you hobble towards the emergency room, the brace you wear restricting your mobility, but you’d finally gotten off the crutches, thank god. you hold a box of cookies that you had baked yourself– with all this newfound free time, and with the fact that you could actually eat, freely, in a way that was almost certainly healthier than whatever restrictive nonsense you were doing before, you’d picked up baking as a hobby. you weren’t great. but you weren’t horrible, either.

it felt so good to just be mediocre at something. to not care. to just enjoy it for the sake of enjoying it.

you approach the registration desk. she– lupe, her nametag says– recognizes you instantly, you can tell. you say hello, and introduce yourself by name anyway. “um– dr. abbot treated me here, about five weeks ago. i was wanting to say…” you attempt to slow you breathing, your nervousness. “i was wanting to see if i could say thank you.”

lupe gives you a warm smile. “oh, that’s sweet, honey. we all heard about what happened– i am so sorry.” your lips press into a line. the sentiment is kind– but it strikes you, anyway. “let me go see what i can do.”

–

it’s never good when lupe is coming back.

jack snatches the sterile gown, soaked in blood from a woman that he was unable to save, and shoves it into the proper disposal. he rubs sanitizer into his hands and he eyes lupe, trying to muster up a smile. “can i hold onto hope and a prayer that you’re about to tell me something good, and not bad?”

“yes, actually. for once, right?” lupe laughs and she begins to explain to him that you’re outside. when she says that, jack’s eyes go wide. “she wants to thank you. can i bring her to the family room?”

“uh– yeah. yes, please do.”

you go to central to finish up on a chart when robby approaches jack at his side. “i hear ice princess is back,” he says with a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

somehow, a rumor got around that you had cried in jack’s arms in south-9. that he had cradled you and held you and stroked your hair– he’s fairly certain it was princess and perlah. no, he knows it was princess and perlah. all good ER rumors start and end with him.

“don’t call her that,” jack says without looking up from the screen. “not cool.”

“oh, my apologies.” robby’s eyes trail to the family room, where you’re limping in. “she’s walking on that knee.”

jack snorts. “that’s the least surprising thing i’ve ever heard.” after an interaction with you that barely went over an hour, he felt like he understood you. he understood that, of course you were walking. you were determined, and you were used to your body bending to your will– not the other way around. he looks over at the family room as the door shuts with a faint thwick.

“go get ‘em, tiger,” robby says and it makes jack scowl.

he’s a good, professional physician. he doesn’t have crushes on patients.

he opens the door. and you’re sitting there, beautiful, clear eyed– there’s still a storm cloud or two burrowed within you, he knows, but not the same as when he met you the first time.

you go to stand up, but he instantly shakes his head. “oh– no. in fact…” he looks at the couch and grabs a pillow. “elevate.”

you look at him incredulously. “my surgeon said i only needed to elevate for 3-7 days post-op.”

“it’s always good to elevate when resting. especially since you’re walking on it.”

you roll your eyes. “the crutches slowed me down,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“that’s kinda the point, sweetheart.”

–

sweetheart.

your lips curl into a smile and you raise your eyebrows at him. he looks at you like he would like to crawl under this couch, and die, probably. he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “i don’t know why i said that.”

“i do,” your smile is saccharine. “because i’m a sweetheart. obviously.”

“they called you pittsburgh’s sweetheart in the paper, once.”

“oh– so you knew who i was?”

“you can’t go anywhere in this city without seeing your face!” you’ve gotten him exasperated now, riled up, and you’re thoroughly happy with yourself. this is the most fun you’ve had in you don’t even know how long, to be perfectly honest. you’ve begun to recline on the arm of the small loveseat, and jack maneuvers the pillow beneath your knee. his hands are confident, his words are not. it’s a combination that you think you could watch all day.

he takes a seat across from you, once he’s gotten you settled to his liking. and there’s that stare, again– people always said that you had a staring problem, but they must not have met jack abbot before. that man had a staring problem.

you take it almost as a challenge. you maintain the eye contact and slowly slide the box of cookies to him.

he glances down. “what’s this?”

“cookies. i made them.” you run your tongue over your teeth. “to say thank you.”

he hangs his head. looks up just enough to peer at you through eyelashes– long, pretty eyelashes. “you don’t need to thank me. i just–”

“oh, no. i do.” you clear your throat. think over the little script that you had written in your journal, all of the vulnerable and real things that you wanted to say. “i don’t know what i needed, exactly, in that moment. and in don’t know if it would be possible for one person to be exactly what i needed. it was–” you feel that swell of emotion start to rise like a tide in your abdomen, but you push through. “it was the single worst night of my life. but not because of the injury. because i just… i realized how sad my life is. i don’t have friends. my family situation is dysfunctional in a way that is not healthy. my coaches and team and everyone around me just looked at me like a thing. an item. and you looked at me and cared for me like a human being. so.” you have to clear your throat again. “thank you.”

jack’s eyes didn’t leave you, one single time. and he only looks away not to close them, rub at them. when he opens them, they’re misty, and he chuckles. “fuck,” he drags the word out, and you feel it run through the center of you. you move to stand up but he stops you. “you are a human being,” he blurts out. “and fuck anyone who has ever treated you like anything else, or less– fuck. them. seriously.”

“yeah, i fired my team.”

“good.”

“yeah.”

a comfortable quiet takes over and you go back and forth in your mind as you stand up, for real this time. “i know you’re working. and i know this is probably unprofessional, but…” you take a piece of paper from your coat pocket and you hand it to him. “when i get back on the ice, i’d like to do it for myself. but, you know, could be good to have a medical professional there to make sure i’m not fucking myself up even more, so…” you suck in a breath. “that’s my phone number.”

he opens the piece of paper and stares at the string of numbers. looks back to you. “i’ll be there.”

“great.”

“great.”

you sling your purse across your body. “that won’t be for awhile, but…” you brush past him, towards the door. “you know, i can still go out to dinner with a torn acl.”

jack smiles, dimples out. holds the door for you. “sounds like we’ve got a date.”

[fadedtoneverland]

d&g’s prince | c.sn

❤︎ synopsis — your boyfriend is away at milan for another fashion show. you’re lowkey (highkey) missing him very much, until he facetimes you to check in on you… wearing something a little too sexy

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

theme: fluff ✿ , suggestive ❤︎, slight crack ✦ (if you squint)

a/n: seeing the clips of him circling around online in this outfit …. i went a lil’ too crazy … i didn’t want to post another smut fanfic of san, so i just went for the suggestive route

cw: reader makes lots of sex jokes cuz they’re feral. implied sex at the ending. mostly teasing and shi

you never knew true boredom and desperation.

well, at least not ‘till this week.

your absolutely stunning, gorgeous, panty-dropping enigma of a man, choi san, had left your poor self all alone in your apartment. not intentionally, of course. being a hot idol that’s constantly in the spotlight, was a busy lifestyle that you completely understood.

and san just so happened to get invited to one of dolce & gabbana’s latest fashion week shows, a brand that san has modeled for numerous times.

he was over the moon, absolutely beaming about going to milan again. you were happy for him too. only problem is, he couldn’t take you with him. san being san, wouldn’t stop whining about how he couldn’t take his “absolute unit of a partner” with him, but you reassured him everything would be fine back home in seoul, and you’d regularly text.

even then, sending off san with kisses and goodbyes at the airport didn’t stop you from missing him. because, he’s choi san. who wouldn’t miss their boyfriend if he was choi san.

so now here you were, curled up in your plush, king sized bed underneath the duvet. a jellycat goose tucked underneath your chin while you scrolled through your texts with san.

sannie <3 [12:03am]: baby

sannie <3 [12:03am]: are u up ??

sannie <3 [12:03am]: just finished a pop live

sannie <3 [12:04am]: come facetime me i wanna say hiiii :33

sannie <3 [12:05am]: do it >:((

you couldn’t hold back your smile. oh san, that lovable little dork. despite being the hottest person to literally grace god’s green earth, he was still a clingy goofball of a man.

your fingers glides across your screen as you typed back

y/n [12:07am]: omg i will

y/n [12:08am]: so needy, ur lucky ur cute

sannie <3 [12:10am]: ik i am <3

sannie <3 [12:11am]: open ur laptop, baby. i’ll be on soon

and you did as you were told, getting comfy underneath your duvet while pulling out your sticker-infested laptop. snuggled in san’s favorite hoodie that had a faint scent of his sandalwood cologne, you eagerly opened the screen and clicked on the bright green facetime icon, waiting for him to call you up.

you were incredibly giddy too, trying to act like you weren’t delusional and the most sane person on planet earth. and well- you weren’t really being delusional, considering that you were dating the choi san himself.

the incoming call icon popped up on your screen, and you quickly shifted to sit up while hovering your cursor over the green button, clicking it, and watching as the screen expanded to reveal your stunning boyfriend.

“hi, baby!” san called out, waving to you. his voice smooth as honey. ugh, you could listen to him forever, especially when he sounds so happy.

“my man,” you sighed dreamily while giving him a little finger wave, resting your cheek on your palm. “i seriously felt like i was gonna die if i went another day without hearing your voice.”

san laughed, the sound light and teasing. “oh, really? and you’re calling me needy? can’t even go a week without hearing my angelic voice, y/n.”

“yeah? well—“ you were about to retort wittily to his teasing, but the grainy web camera on san’s end cleared up a bit more, showing off a bit more details of the black outfit he was wearing. the sight made you effectively stop talking, which san took notice of.

“baby?” san called out, smirk faltering a bit from concern. “you alright—?”

“stand up.” you suddenly said.

your boyfriend blinked.

“i- wha—“

“i said stand up, choi san,” you interrupted firmly. “show me what kind of slutty fit you have on.”

san blinked once. then twice. he did a little head shake before chuckling, slowly standing up from his swivel chair and adhering to your hasty demands.

“whatever you want, angel.” san sang teasingly, pushing the chair away from his desk and stepping back to give you a tantalizing view of the outfit. the camera cut out his face, and the desk cropped up to his thighs, not showing you the full body, but showing just enough details to make you go feral.

san always looked good in black, made his features pop more, and just dripped him out in sin and scandal. but your eyes roved hungrily over the expanse of his muscles that were very much defined by his shirt.

his top, thin cotton fabric in the form of the sexiest blouse you’ve seen him wear. the middle part dipped down just enough to reveal a flirty little chest window for your lucky eyes. some black stringed ribbon was tied together nearly at the front of his shirt, creating a more sinful feel, knowing he can just untie those strings and flash you with his glorious tits at any given moment.

and the jeans? tight, leather, and fucking whorish. even when he did a little spin in front of the web cam to give you the whole galore of his outfit, you couldn’t stop thinking about how those jeans fitted perfectly along his hips and curve of his ass.

you were destroyed completely, reduced to nothing but a horny little dog who felt like they were gonna howl at the moon any second. and san seemed to notice, due to your lack of speaking after he showed off his stripper fit.

“uhh… y/n?” san called out while leaning down so his face was in view of the webcam. “are you okay?”

a beat of silence. one breath. then two.

and…

“you little shit.” you suddenly blurted out.

san was baffled. “… huh???”

“who told you that you could dress up like a hooker??”

silence.

then san shook his head, blinking furiously. “i— w-what?!”

your devastatingly hot boyfriend practically lurched himself back in the rolling chair, completely bewildered by your bold, yet astronomically down bad statement for him. meanwhile, you just stared at the camera, completely serious.

“babe, this is so unfair. you can’t dress up looking like a full-course meal and not expect me to go feral,” you said, practically whining with how devastated you were. “and you’re in milan too? ugh, even worse. who’s gonna suck your dick ‘till the skin falls off now??”

san choked on his own saliva. “until the skin falls off—?! baby- it’s just a shirt!!”

“yeah, a shirt that’s making my pussy way too wet. there’s a whole damn tsunami down there.”

“princess—“

“if i was a man i’d be popping the biggest boner right now, i’m just saying.”

san was crying with laughter. laughter from both disbelief and amusement. he’s heard you say all sorts of diabolical stuff regarding many things, but never to this level of down bad. maybe this was your glorious way of reminding him who gives him the best blowjobs while he’s gone.

“baby— honey—“ san laughed, rubbing the tears of joy out of his eyes. “you- you can’t just say stuff like that! it hasn’t even been that long since i left korea.”

you scoffed, and turned your head dramatically away from the virtual image of your boyfriend. “yeah, but it’s been long enough since i last saw you, and you have the audacity to come on here and flash me??”

san blinked. again.

“flash you???”

“uh, yeah? i’m getting the whole front row view of your twelve inch dick through those slutty pants, babe.”

“i— twelve inches!?”

“god created men and sent you as an apology, baby. you’re the whole package and i’m about to unwrap your boxers like one. i’ve gone too long without your glorious presence.”

san’s jaw was practically on the floor with that one, and you looked unfazed. composed, cool, collected, despite the sheer diabolical-ness of your filthy words.

remind him why you were his girlfriend again?

“okay, okay. if you really want to come see me, you can catch the closest flight to milan,” san said, leaning closer to the screen, flashing those cheeky dimples, “but it won’t be any cake walk trying to get alone time with me, baby.”

“fine by me,” you declared, smirking back at him. “i can be stealthy.”

san raised an eyebrow, amused. “i doubt it.”

“are you saying you don’t trust me?” you retort teasingly.

“no~ im just stating the facts, the fact that your chances of sneaking past all the guards and paparazzi and staff to be with yours truly is slim.”

“slim but never zero, baby. come on, i’ve done this plenty of times during tours. i can do it again for fashion week~”

and you just had to pull out those sparkly, mischievous eyes that you know san loves so much. god, he was a weak man when it came to you. but who could blame him? he was also dying to have you near him soon, especially with how busy the d&g fashion week as gotten him.

“i better see you here soon then, baby,” san said, grinning ear-to-ear while leaning back. “and wear an outfit that’s easy to rip off.”

you smiled devilishly, knowing you’ve won.

“already looking for tickets to milan, prince.”

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fadedtoneverland © 2025 | do not steal, modify or repost ANY of my work.

[thebreakfastgenie]

This is going to get me screencapped and ridiculed by leftblr but at this point I don't care.

The way people talk about Ruth Bader Ginsburg is misogynistic. This post is not about the merits of her decision to remain in her seat. I've discussed that before and I'm happy to go through it again with anyone who is genuinely interested in the complexities of that situation, but for the sake of this post, I am not arguing that it's unreasonable to believe, with the benefit of hindsight, that the country would be a in a better position today if Ginsburg had retired in 2012. The issue I want to address is how people talk about it.

People who blame Ginsburg for the current state of the Supreme Court tend to throw around words like greedy, selfish, and ambitious, echoing a familiar form of misogyny. Ambition is only bad when women demonstrate it, and women in politics are regularly punished for ambition. Even more disturbingly, people tend to blame not just Ginsburg, but the women and girls who looked up to her. I've seen the "Notorious RBG" nickname derided as a cult of personality, when the reality is that Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a trailblazer and a role model to a lot of women and girls. I've seen leftists try to hide behind valid criticisms of some of Ginsburg's positions (and it should, but doesn't, go without saying that you can see someone as a role model without believing they are correct about every issue all the time) but you barely have to scratch the surface to see that the real complaint is that they think women who admire her are cringe. I don't know if people understand how significant she was; she was only the second woman on the Supreme Court and the first, Sandra Day O'Connor, was a conservative Reagan appointee. Even so, Justice O'Connor spoke about the significance of Justice Ginsburg joining her and reality that women faced in their position being more apparent when she could see it happening to someone else. It's the same old anti-feminist story of dismissing women and their desires.

This particular case rankles me because it's underscored by the complete silence about Anthony Kennedy. Ruth Bader Ginsburg made a judgment call about her health that didn't work out--and barely; she died four months before Trump left office. Anthony Kennedy, a supposed moderate justice who claimed to not want Roe v Wade to be overturned, retired in 2018, knowing full well Trump would replace him with someone who would overturn Roe v Wade. It was Kennedy's replacement, not Ginsburg's, that doomed Roe. The decision was 6-3. If Ginsburg had lived four more months, or retired in 2012 and been replaced with an Obama appointee, the Dobbs v Jackson decision would have been 5-4 in the same direction. Anthony Kennedy was replaced with Brett Kavanaugh, a white man who sobbed crocodile tears when confronted with credible allegations of sexual assault and ultimately faced no consequences. Anthony Kennedy let all of this happen and slunk off into his cushy retirement. Where is the anger for him? He's alive! Being angrier at Ginsburg than Kennedy makes absolutely no sense. There is no logic to explain it, only misogyny.

It doesn't escape my notice that the anger at Ginsburg goes hand-in-hand with blaming women for their own suffering as a result of the Dobbs decision and with blaming Hillary Clinton for the 2016 election, while making any excuse for not voting for her or deriding her for months. It's emblematic of a political system that does not care about women and despises women trying to speak up and make our issues known.

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you��ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

[desi2go]

Sore muscles

pairing: Changbin x reader

warnings: fluff

Summary: what happens when Binnie comes home sore from a trainings session?

author's note: hey guys! I'm back (well I hope so). Sorry that I didn't post anything in the last months but my life is so busy right now that I sadly won't be able to post regularly. (But I'll try to update my story on ao3 whenever I have time!)

The door creaked open, dragging out the sound like it could sense his exhaustion, and you immediately heard the telltale signs of his struggle before you even saw him. There was the slow, uneven scuff of sneakers against the wooden floor, the sound of something heavy—his gym bag, no doubt—dropping to the ground with a dull, defeated thud. Then came a low, pained exhale, almost a groan, the kind someone makes when every breath feels like it takes effort. When he finally stepped into view, you barely recognized him.

His hoodie clung to his shoulders, damp with sweat, and his hair was plastered against his forehead in messy, dark strands. His normally bright, playful eyes were dulled with fatigue, and his jaw was tight, like he was gritting his teeth just to stay upright. Even the way he stood was different—his broad shoulders were hunched, his posture sagging as if gravity itself had decided to turn against him.

With judging eyes, you observed your boyfriend who leaned against the wall, his gym shorts were rumpled. His dark hair stuck to his forehead, even more, darkened with the efforts of the night. Honestly, he looked like he just survived a war, not a training session.

"Whoa" you said, closing your book and placing it on the table after sitting up straight on the couch. "You look... rough. Are you okay, babe?"

Changbin didn't answer at first, his eyes briefly roaming over your form before he balanced himself with pressing a hand on the wall. He exhaled slowly. "I bet you won't take a yes for an answer?" Trying to joke failed miserably, his grin only coming out crooked and his voice gravelly.

You stood up, crossing the room to meet him in where he tried so desperately to stay on his feet. "You walk like an old man" you judged him, eyes pinched together. "And I feel like one" he muttered quietly as he bent down slightly to untie his sneakers. Well, he at least tried, stopping in his tracks when he winced from the motion.

"What the hell did you do?" You mumbled worried, dropping to your knees to untie the shoes yourself before tossing them to the other pairs. "Today's training was insane. Chris recommend me the new coach. But oh boy, he is the pure evil, I swear." Changbin explained as he stumbled slightly when he wanted to walk to the couch.

"I didn't even know it was possible for my legs to hurt this much" You curled your fingers around his muscular forearm, guiding your boyfriend before he could topple over again. Every muscle felt like they were rock-hard, not from tension but from exhaustion, like they had been overworked to the point of rebellion.

"Sit down" you said firmly, leaving no room to argue. "I should-"

"Sit, please. Let me take care of you" you interrupted him, your tone soft yet brooking no argument. Sighing heavily, he let himself fall on the soft padding of the couch, nearly collapsing on top of it with a groan that sounded half relieved and half in agony.

He leaned back, closing his eyes eyes, head lolling to the side on a cushion. "I will be back, okay? I'm going to run you a bath" you pressed a quick peck on his damp forehead and headed to the bathroom in order to fill the tub.

While the hot water splashed into it, you dropped some soothing bathing oil in.

Meanwhile, you fetched him new clothes from the bedroom. It didn't take long for the tub to fill, so, you quickly headed back to the living area before your boyfriend fell asleep right then and there in his stinky clothes.

He layed there just like you had left him ten minutes prior, having not even changed his position in any way. Just his steady breathing told you that he was still alive. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly open. He looked cute and even though you wanted him to get as much sleep as possible, you shock him awake carefully.

Your hand cupped his cheek, caressing his soft skin. "Babe, wake up. We need to get you all cleaned up before you can sleep" you coaxed. He mumbled something incoherent, his eyes slowly fluttering open. Yawning, he stumbled with your help to the bathroom.

Carefully you helped him out of his clothes, peeling every piece off after the other. You pecked his cheek and went to throw the dirty clothes in the washing machine while he let himself fall into the tub with a sigh, soothing warmth enveloping his strained body. Changbin could practically feel how every little knot undid and his whole body went lax.

On your way back, you fetched him some water from the kitchen that you placed in his hands with a smile. Carefully, he took it with both hands, wincing even at the small motion. With a wash cloth, you spread water over his broad shoulders and neck and afterwards rubbed the remaining sweat off with shampoo.

The whole time, Changbin observed you through half closed eyes, fighting to stay awake. Yet, his gaze was always holding your form passionately. A trace of gratefulness in there. "I can't believe the new coach pushed you so much, even though you have dance practise tomorrow" you mumbled rather to yourself than him, anger bubbling inside of you.

Changbin lifted a hand out of the water and placed it on your arm. "It's okay. I said to him that he shouldn't go light on me just because I'm an idol. The training was good, just really exhausting." He explained, tracing his fingers over your skin. You sighed. "Just don't overdo it, okay? I don't want you injured"

He nodded and pursed his lips, indicating that he wanted a kiss from you. Rolling with your eyes, you pressed your lips together for a sweet peck. "Alright. Let's get you in bed for your massage" you declared, taking his hands and helping him out of the cooling water.

With one of your fluffiest towels, you dried him. "I feel like an old grandpa" he chuckled. You snorted. "I don't care. I love my sweet old boyfriend" you wiggled with your eyebrows. Grabbing the message oil, you followed him into the bedroom. The dim, amber glow from the bedside lamp casted flickering shadows across the room, highlighting the curve of his exposed back as he layed sprawled across the bed. In the air mingledthe subtle sweetness of your massage oil you had just uncapped.

With a gentle tilt, you let a thin stream of the golden liquid trickle onto his shoulder blades, watching as it pooled in the dips of his muscles before slowly gliding down his back. He shivered at the sensation, his skin reacting to the cool contrast against his warm body. Gently, you smoothed the oil across his shoulders with slow, deliberate strokes. You massaged him often, given his hard training sessions, he was often sore and you loved to help him relieve some of the pain with kneading the knots away.

Pressing your palms flat against his upper back, you let the warmth of your hands seep into his skin before you began kneading in slow, circular motions. His body was tight, muscles knotted from overexertion, but under your touch, he gradually began to unravel. Your thumbs pressed deep into the tension points along his traps, rolling out the stiffness with practiced precision that had come over time.

A deep, guttural sigh escaped him, his body sinking further into the mattress. "God, you’re so good at this."

You chuckled softly, leaning in just enough that your breath ghosted over his ear. "I know."

Your hands moved lower, gliding effortlessly down his spine, fingers tracing the ridges of each vertebra before pressing into the firm muscles of his lower back. Changbin flinched slightly at first, a reaction to the tenderness there, but you soothed him with slow, steady pressure, coaxing the tension away with each pass of youe hands. "Why do you always have to overdo it?" you murmured, working your way down towards his hips.

His lips curved into a lazy smile against the pillow. "Maybe because I know that you will fix me after"

You smirked, pouring a little more oil into youe palm before moving to his arms, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his biceps and forearms. His body was all strength—firm, defined, yet completely pliant under your touch. You loved feeling the way he reacted, the way his breathing hitched when you found a particularly sore spot, the way his fingers twitched when you massaged his hands.

When you reached his legs, you both shifted until you straddled his thighs to get better leverage. He made a soft sound of contentment as you began working on his hamstrings, thumbs pressing deeply into the tight muscles, kneading away the ache with slow, methodical movements.

"That’s the spot," he groaned, gripping the sheets. Biting your lip as you worked, a grin was displayed on your lips. You didn't rush, instead, you took your time on every single knot, enjoying the way he melted beneath you. Your hands traveled down to his calves, rolling and squeezing, until every last bit of tension had faded. By the time you finished, his body was completely relaxed, his breathing slow and deep. You leaned forward, your lips pressing softly against the nape of his neck. "Feeling better?" His response was a drowsy hum, his fingers reaching out to blindly grasp yours. "Mmm… you’re a lifesaver."

You curled up beside him, draping an arm over his waist as you whispered, "Get some sleep."

With a content sigh, he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces, warmth radiating between you as sleep claimed you both.

☾☆☽

The next morning rolled by faster than you had expected. Changbin needed to leave for work early and since you were a pretty light sleeper, you heard his alarm go on. Grumbling, you rolled to your boyfriend's side, cuddling further into his embrace.

His hand traced patterns on your back. "Good morning baby" his low and raspy morning voice send tingles through your whole body. "Sorry my alarm woke you" he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"it's okay" you mumbled against his chest, remaining in this position for some time until he really needed to get up in order to arrive in time. You stayed in bed for a bit while Changbin went into the bathroom, still notably stiff from yesterday's workout session and still walking like an old man. You heard water running and then louder noises that made you perk up.

When he swore multiple time that you could even hear over the steady noise of the running water, you decided to check on him since that definitely wasn't usual for him. Slowly, you poked your head in. He was standing in front of the sink, his razor clutching in one hand while his whole lower part of his face was covered in shaving foam.

As he tried to move the razor up to his face, he winced, his muscles clearly stiff and sore. And maybe even a small strain hiding underneath the mass of his muscles. "Should I help you?" You asked in a gentle voice, careful not to spook him while leaning against the door frame.

His gaze immediately shifted towards you, letting his hand fall to the side. "You don't need to help me. Go back to bed baby. You need the sleep" he tried to coax.

You observed him with a judging look. "You're sure? I heard you swear. It's okay to ask for help. I'd love to take care of you" you soothed, taking the last few steps towards you and grabbed the razor. "Come on. Sit" you nudged him to the toilet where he sat down on the lid.

"You don't need to do that, you know?" He whispered as you leaned in, fully concentrated. "I know but I want to"

Carefully, you positioned the razor and shaved slowly. The way he watched every of your movements closely had you chuckling as you cleaned it with water.

"what? Afraid that I cut you?" You grabbed his chin and tilted his head to get better access. His eyes sparkled with adoration. "Never. I trust you wholly" he whispered, shutting his eyes as you reapplied the razor.

"You better be" you murmured, cleaning the little stubbles from the razor with the water in the sink.

"You're sure you can attend practise? Your arms seemed still pretty sore and I think they might even be strained." You argued, placing the razor on his cheek and pulling it down carefully, never once lifting your gaze from the razor.

"Well, I need to attend. The others will be disappointed and I can't lack in dancing" he answered, his hand playing with the hem of your sleep shirt.

"They will survive surely without you. Plus, I have already texted Chan yesterday night before sleeping. It's totally fine" you wiggled your eyebrows as you saw his impressed look on his face.

"I have nothing to say in it, right?" He smirked crookedly, eyes sparkling with adoration. You laughed mischievously.

"Nope, absolutely not. You will spend the day with me even if I have to chain you to the bed"

He snorted, shaking his head after you had placed the razor down and cleaning his face with a fluffy towel.

"Maybe I should remind you of your place, baby" he murmured seducingly, voice dropping as he flirted with you. His hand kneaded the skin on your hips, pinching it from time to time in a mocking manner.

You giggled, pecking his sweet lips. "Tempting, very tempting" you sing-sang, butterflies swirling in your stomach as he manhandled you as best as he could with his strained muscles, leading your lips on his for a hard and longing kiss. When his sore muscles had subsided, you were going to have a lot of fun.

[bruhstories]

Bet I

p.2 here & p3. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

summary: in-ho got a cat, and he needs a cat sitter while he is away on his business trip. who knew that meeting you would turn into a bet, a philosophy of what is moral and what is not?

pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader

warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader's background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, few mentions of Y/N (again, for plot purposes), pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent

w/c: 2.2k

a/n: i have no idea how many chapters this will have, but i'm trying to write each chapter for each day of the games. it'll all make sense at the end lol. i tried to do as much research about seoul and south korea in general, so please be gentle! i'm just an eastern european gal

tagging: @full-sunnies @xodilfluvr

In-ho got a cat — a green-eyed, silver-tipped Korat he named Eunjoo. He thought about getting a dog, but dogs were high-maintenance, loyal and loving, and his job didn't allow him a loving pet. It didn't allow him to get attached to humans or animals. But Eunjoo was aloof and independent, and only rubbed against his leg when she wanted food. She refused to be handled and rarely played with the toys In-ho got her, but the cat was a necessary soul in his empty penthouse. It still wasn't enough to fill the hole in his blackened heart, but it was better than coming home to nothing and no one.

Trouble came when In-ho had to leave for eight days for the 32nd Squid Game. He quite obviously couldn't bring Eunjoo with him, and he couldn't let her starve, either. Not only that, but her litter boxes had to be cleaned regularly, and she needed fresh water daily, which left him with only one option — getting a cat sitter, as stupid as that sounded. In-ho felt ridiculous typing the post on a website for dog-walkers and pet sitters, but he did it nonetheless.

Businessman going on an eight day trip. In need of an experienced person to do home visits twice a day for my Eunjoo. 30,000 won per day. Based in Gangnam-gu, Seoul. 

He attached a picture of the cat along with his email, and waited. There was enough time to select a sitter before he left, and he browsed several profiles of pet sitters. Most of them had fantastic reviews, but asked for more money. Typical, In-ho thought. How typical for people to ask for more than necessary. It wasn't as though he wasn't willing to pay more — he had enough money, and would gladly spend it on Eunjoo — but it was the greed that disgusted him. The audacity to ask for 70,000 won a day to feed a cat and change her water was insane.

In-ho closed his laptop and left it on his coffee table in the living room, then walked into the kitchen to feed Eunjoo. She came from her hideout at the sound of a can opening, cautious of her surroundings, then rubbed her head against In-ho's leg, patiently waiting for her food. The cat didn't immediately eat. Instead, Eunjoo waited for her owner to sit down and have his dinner, and the corners of his mouth turned into a half-smile. Better than most people, In-ho thought. She wasn't greedy, she was understanding in ways some humans couldn't be. And so, he reheated yesterday's bulgogi and sat down with a side of freshly cooked rice. Only then did Eunjoo eat her dinner, checking on him from time to time to make sure he was also eating.

Ding!

His phone lit up with a notification. In-ho unlocked it and opened the email he had just received from a pet sitter.

Good evening, sir! My name is Y/L/N Y/N and I would like to meet Eunjoo. I live in Guryong Village and can take the bus to Gangnam-gu whenever you need me to, as I am quite flexible with my schedule, but I need to be completely transparent with you. I've only taken care of my cousin's cat over summer, so I am not the experienced sitter you are looking for, but I am asking you to please give me a chance. Have a good evening!

In-ho scoffed at the words on his screen. He was specifically looking for someone with experience, but he appreciated the honesty. It was a rare trait nowadays, and he was a fair man who gave everyone equal chances. It was the root of his job, after all.

Tomorrow morning, 9 o'clock, Bongeunsa-ro 103-gil, across the street from Shinhan Bank. I'll pick you up from downstairs. Don't be late.

The clack of your heels irked you as you hurried down the street from the bus stop to the address provided by the cat owner. It was a sound you weren't used to, but you needed to make a good impression when lacking experience. People all around you were dressed in expensive suits and dresses, clothes you could only dream of wearing, and the cars that swerved across your path, nearly running you over, looked like they cost as much as your house. It wasn't the first time you walked around Gangnam-gu, but it was the first time you spent more than five minutes surrounded by people who lived lavishly while you survived on Samyang Hot Chicken Ramen Stew.

And yet, you wouldn't trade your instant noodles for samgyeopsal or bossam if it meant selling your soul. Because that was the price to pay for riches and luxury, wasn't it? No, you would make ends meet somehow and live an honest life without becoming a coldhearted monster, just like your father taught you.

You checked that the address in the email matched your location, and waited for someone to talk to you, unsure how they would even recognise you. Although, on second thought, the thin, flimsy cotton of your dress and loose threads around the hem were a dead giveaway that you didn't belong in Gangnam-gu. You didn’t belong amongst the rich.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N?"

Turning on your heels, you were met by the darkest eyes you had ever seen, eyes that looked as though they had both witnessed and committed unspeakable atrocities. And yet, there was a strange remorse in them. The man looked around 45 years old but not a single gray hair on his head, which was ironic, because you probably had more white strands hidden in your locks. Your gaze darted down at his extended hand, and you shook it while bowing down as a sign of respect. 

"You must be Mr. Hwang. I can't thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me. I promise I won't let you down if you give me a chance!"

Oh, you were a talker. In-ho had met your kind before, aimlessly sleepwalking through life, serving no greater purpose except for entertaining those who rid the world of gamblers, addicts, beggars and thieves. Not that you were in any of those categories — In-ho didn't know you that well yet — but the way you presented yourself made him think you would have made a suitable player in the game.It was too late to recruit you now. Perhaps next year, if you made it that far.

You followed Mr. Hwang into the elevator, surprised that it wasn't stopping until reaching the last floor of the building, and when the doors opened, they revealed a small hallway with just one apartment. He had no neighbours above or around him, and you couldn’t begin to imagine how lonely it must've been. Surely his wife or girlfriend kept him company, or perhaps he had children — In-ho did look old enough to be your father.

He unlocked the multiple locks on his door — he must have been really rich — and invited you in. For a moment, a split second, you wondered if you had made a mistake coming there. The man could be a serial killer for all you knew, and with almost no neighbours, who would even hear you scream? You heard stories about wealthy people who took pleasure in hurting others. The lack of pictures of a wife or children only strengthened that doubt, but the intrusive thought soon dissipated when, from the corner of your eye, you spotted a silver tail hanging from a dining chair. 

Paying no mind to the tall double fridge, or the black U shaped velvet sofa that could fit your entire extended family, or even the view from his floor-to-ceiling windows, you kicked off the uncomfortable heels and got down on all fours, crawling closer to Eunjoo before sitting on the tiled floor with your legs crossed. It caught In-ho completely off guard — unpredictability was something that bothered him. Usually when he brought girls over they would bombard him with a million questions about his job, his car, his clothes, his bank account. You didn't, and it both infuriated and intrigued him. But then again, he brought you there with a different purpose.

"What are you doing exactly?" In-ho circled around you like a hawk, watching you intently. 

"I've read that it's better to allow cats to familiarise themselves with people instead of forcing affection onto them." You sat still, chin tilted upwards to look at him with innocence in your eyes. "I may not be experienced, sir, but I did my research."

He wasn't particularly impressed by your research skills, not even when Eunjoo jumped from the chair and walked around you, curious yet apprehensive. One paw hovered above the floor in mid-air, and her tail was lowered, almost touching the ground, as the cat slowly and cautiously approached you, sniffing the hand you extended. 

"So, what do you do for a living?" You broke the spell, not on Eunjoo but on In-ho, who was watching you try to befriend his cat. He hadn't realised he had been staring for longer than he should have until you spoke with disinterest in your voice. You didn't really care what his job was.

"Business." He simply said and you chuckled at his response. "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry, I just thought it would be nice to make small talk while we wait for Eunjoo to get comfortable." You shrugged. "But it's fine if you don't want to talk about that, sir."

Sir. It sounded so different coming from you and not one of his subordinates at the facility. In-ho quietly pulled a chair from under the table and sat down, but Eunjoo had finished inspecting you. She lifted her tail, the tip curled — a sign of playfulness — and you scratched her chin.

"Good girl, Eunjoo! I'm sorry, I don't have any treats." You sat up after the cat lost interest in you and hid behind the sofa.

"So you're inexperienced and unprepared." His voice was cold and judgemental and you lowered your head in shame.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I don't have a great financial situation, that's why I need this job. I can water plants and clean the house, I can even do your laundry and iron your shirts, and I don't want any extra money, just the payment for cat sitting." You sounded so desperate it was pathetic. "Please."

The last bit of your sentence was what caught In-ho's attention. No extra money? Who in their right minds wouldn’t charge more for additional services? Were you planning on stealing from him while he was away? Not that it mattered — he'd find you and kill you upon his return from the island if you did. However, he found it to be an interesting game, a bet of sorts. You would win if you were honest for all eight days. He would win if you stole from him and abused his kindness.

"You're hired." In-ho nodded, the look of surprise mixed with gratitude on your face making him feel like some sort of god.

"I swear you won't be disappointed in me, sir. I'll leave the house spotless every day, and I will take good care of Eunjoo!" You nodded eagerly, beaming at him.

"I know you will. She takes breakfast at 7 and dinner at 9, and there is an automatic feeder set at 2 pm for lunch." He explained and you took your phone out to quickly take notes. "Make sure you change her water in the morning and at night, and scoop her litter boxes every time you're here."

"...scoop the poop twice a day. Got it." You mumbled while typing. "Do I give her wet food in the mornings and evenings?"

"Yes, and please check that the automatic feeder is stocked. You will find all her cans and kibble in this cupboard." In-ho walked into the kitchen and showed you where Eunjoo's food was. There was more cat food in that cupboard than you had in your house.

"Perfect. Where is the bin room located?"

"Underground. The code is 456654."

"Thank you, Mr. Hwang! I won't let you down. Oh, I should give you my phone number, right?" You asked, feeling a bit awkward for being so straightforward. 

"Whatever would I need your number for?" He almost laughed. 

"How else would you see Eunjoo?"

"Right. Forgot about that." In-ho scratched the back of his head. He couldn't exactly tell you that there were cameras everywhere in his house.

"Two more questions. Am I allowed to play music or movies on your TV and could I take a shower after cleaning? I'm bringing spare clothes and my own towel and soap."

"Yes, of course you can. Please help yourself to anything you need. I trust you'll figure out how the coffee machine or dishwasher work." He nodded. 

"Yeah, I'll figure it out." You lied. You had never used a dishwasher before.

"Great. I leave in three days. Please be here the day after my departure. Here's the spare key."

"Thank you, sir!" You bowed and walked to the door to put your shoes back on. "Good luck on your trip!"

"Thank you, miss. Good luck to you, too." 

The bet was placed, the game was on.

[dixons-sunshine]

Wake Up Call | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(GIF isn’t mine.)

Summary: Mornings had never been Steve’s thing. Unless he had somewhere he needed to be, he did not like being woken up. However, waking up to you first thing in the morning was definitely something that he wasn’t against.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Very slight allusion to suggestive themes, nothing else otherwise.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Steve, my beloved. I love him so much. Here’s the first fic I wrote of him in forever. I’ll post the second one either tomorrow or Tuesday, and then it’s right back to your regularly scheduled Daryl content.

“Steve.”

A noncommittal grunt.

“Stevie…”

Another noncommittal grunt.

“Baby, you gotta wake up.”

“Uh-uh.”

You could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest at your boyfriend’s firm insistence to stay in the realm of slumber. Admittedly, you found the scene in front of you immensely adorable; Steve, on his stomach, his arms tucked around his pillow as if he were cuddling it, his hair a mess of loose strands and some curls, and his eyes shut tight as he attempted to fight off the thing that was trying to lull him out of the comforting depths of sleep.

Steve had never been one to wake up without a fight, not unless he knew he had somewhere important he needed to be. If not, one had a better chance using a tornado as an ice cream cone than rousing Steve Harrington from his slumber. He could be as stubborn as a mule under normal circumstances, but when he was asleep and comfortable and he did not want to wake up? Yeah, he was like an immovable boulder, but only way worse.

Luckily, you were well aware of how he was in that state, and your almost two years of being with him played to your advantage. You knew exactly how to wake him up.

With a practiced precession, you slowly moved towards him, slightly hovering over his exposed back. You carefully leaned down and pressed soft kisses from his upper back, onto his shoulder blade, up the back of his neck to the skin right below his earlobe, before moving your mouth up to whisper in his ear.

“Stevie,” you whispered in a sing-song tone of voice, giggling quietly when he groaned and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. “Baby, it’s time to wake up. It’s almost ten.”

“Go away,” Steve mumbled weakly, his voice muffled by the pillow.

You simply laughed at that. You could tell that Steve was not fully awake yet. If he was, he would never tell you to go away. He loved your mere presence more than anything else in the world. Well, not as much as he loved your touch, but it was right up there on the list.

“I made us breakfast,” you tried again, this time succeeding slightly. Steve turned his head, and you could see the way his already-closed eyes screwed tighter, a clear sign that he was desperately clinging onto the last remnants of his dreamland. However, with some more gentle urging, he would be fully awake soon enough.

You shifted your body so that you were instead seated on the bed instead of hovering over his body. You raised your hand and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair, attempting to tame the wildness you had come to love seeing in the mornings. “I made waffles. And poured you some orange juice. It’s waiting for you downstairs.”

Steve finally opened his eyes, clearly having lost the battle against consciousness. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, his beautiful amber irises adjusting to the light that was pouring in through the curtains. Once he could see clearly, he looked up and saw you, seated on top of his bed, smiling down at him with that beautiful smile of yours, looking absolutely radiant. And the fact that you were wearing nothing but your underwear and his shirt—that he had carelessly tossed aside the night prior due to it having been in the way of your activities—was an added bonus to the goddess-like view in front of him.

“G’mornin’, beautiful,” he greeted you with a small, lopsided smile, his gaze trailing over you appreciatively. Despite all the times he had woken up and saw you like that, he still acted like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes trailed over the plush skin of your exposed thighs, up to the way his shirt hugged you, to the beautiful smile on your face.

Yeah, this was a sight he would forever appreciate, and would absolutely never take for granted.

“Good morning,” you replied with a light laugh, retracting your hand from his hair when he pushed himself to sit up. “Sleep okay?”

Steve nodded as he stretched his arms above his head to remove the kinks that had formed whilst he was asleep. “Yeah,” he confirmed with a yawn. “I always sleep better when you’re around.”

You smiled at him. “You’re a real charmer, Steve Harrington.”

“Thanks. I don’t even try,” he joked, laughing when you lightly shoved his shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” you repeated what you had told him earlier when he was still fighting to stay asleep.

Steve’s eyes widened at your words. “Shit, really?” He chuckled in disbelief when you nodded. “Wow. And you let me sleep that late?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me the time to make us some breakfast without someone coaxing me out of the kitchen so that they can make breakfast instead,” you said, sending him a pointed look.

Steve chuckled and shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trynna take care of my girl.” He threw the bedcovers off of his body, his lower body covered with the boxers he had pulled on before going to bed the night before, but leaving his chest exposed for your view. He smirked slightly when he noticed the way your eyes trailed over his body this time. “See something you like?”

You scoffed and ducked your head shyly. “Shut up,” you mumbled, although there was no real heat behind your words.

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you into his body. You collided against his chest with a small ‘oof’, and your angelic laughter filled the air. It was a sound Steve loved immensely.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Honey. I don’t blame you for appreciatin’ the view.” Steve chuckled fondly when you simply scoffed and buried your face into his chest. Opting to shift the subject instead of teasing you any further, he pressed a kiss on top of your head. “What did you make us for breakfast?”

“Waffles,” you began, once again repeating what you had already told him in his half awake state, “and I poured us some orange juice.”

“That sounds amazing,” he murmured into your hair. “Thank you, Sweetheart. You didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to do it.” You pulled back and looked at him with a loving smile. “I love you, Stevie. Making breakfast is nothing. I do it for you because I want to.”

“I love you too,” Steve replied with a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, purposefully avoiding your mouth until he had the chance to brush his teeth to rid himself of his morning breath. “Let’s go eat, yeah? Then we can do whatever you want to.”

“Even watch Footloose?” you asked hopefully, an excited glimmer in your eyes.

Steve chuckled and nodded. “Yes. Even watch Footloose.” His chuckle turned into a light laugh when you tugged his hand, urging him up from the bed.

Steve Harrington might not love waking up in the mornings when he did not need to, but he loved you, and that made it all worth it in the end.

[harrystylesfan2686]

Confession

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warning: nothing much just kissing

A/N: I'm going to start writing and post regularly again.

Masterlist

○●○●○●○

"I love you."

The words leave my mouth before I realise it. I can see him get tense, pausing his writing. Tears well up in my eye as the realisation slowly sinks in of what I've done. I've let out my deepest secret, the one I've kept for so long, not telling anyone else, knowing that nothing good can come out of it. I focus on the wall behind him, trying not to break down right here.

Come on, telling him I love him and then crying to him bout how he doesn't feel the same. That's just embarrassing.

I feel him stare at me as Azriel slowing gets up from his chair and walks up to me. Still not ready to face him, my eyes fall shut as he stands in front of me.

I want to say something! Say sorry or that it was just a prank but my mouth doesn't open and my fingers curl not a fist in anger at myself. He let's out a sigh and I brace myself for the rejection that's surely to come. The sofa dips a little as he sits in front of me.

Gentle finger tips graze my cheek and I gasp in surprise. "Open your eyes." The request clear in his deep voice. I carefully do, and then my eyes widen in surprise.

His face is so close to me.

Our noses almost touching. Our lips mere inches apart. The color of his irises is so radiant, with the sunlight hitting the waves in them so perfectly. A deep blush spreads across my face as my skin heats up. He too can surely feel it with his hand cupping cheek like so.

"Say it again."

"What?" I say, baffled.

"Say that you love me, again." There a flash of desperation in his eyes and it leaves my mind in a scramble. His eyes look at me, silently begging, and there nothing I wouldn't do in this world for him. No matter how much it hurts me, I would do whatever he told me to in a heart beat.

"I love you."

And his lips are on mine.

Softly at first and I gasp at the seer need I feel from him. He moves his mouth to mine with pure wildness, as if he's been wanting this for a long time. Our noses touch and he angles my head to kiss me deeper. My eyes fall shut and a tear runs down my cheek. I'm not sad, I'm surprised and happy and scared and god knows what else.

His tongue moves in my mouth and a low moan escapes my throat. I feel his lips curl up into a smirk and he pulls back a little. I whimper at the loss of him and chase after his lips to pull him into another, wilder kiss.

Our lips move in a rhythm, both of us desperately feel every part of each other's mouth. We kiss as if we were lost in a desert without any means of survival, and have finally found water. We kiss as if the world is going to end and there will be no tomorrow. We kiss as if this will be the last time we do so.

I don't know how long it has been when we finally pull back. Bruised lips and desire clear as a day in our eyes. We are still so close, I could easily kiss him again if I wasn't breathing so hard.

His kiss emptied me of my thoughts and air.

His eyes scan my face once more, red lips streching into a grin. He watches me for a second longer and then leans forward to gently kiss my cheek and pulls back.

"If it wasn't obvious, I love you too."

And I smile too, genuinely feeling the happiest I've ever felt.

[miabebe]

Camp Seventeen: Chapter 1

Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13 (Reader x Seungcheol, Reader x Soonyoung for this Ch)

Word count - 13K

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut (tags for the chapter are under the cut), fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up!

Chapter summary - It's been a week since you stepped foot in Camp Seventeen - as you navigated the days trying to wrap your head around the 13 boys, one's touch and another's voice start to become a bit too bothersome....

A/n - And the series has finally kickstarted! Please read the prologue before this! Big thanks to @okiedokrie and @c-oupsie for helping beta read this, y'all are the sweetest <3

I do have a taglist so comment on this post to be added! And if you enjoyed reading, please don't forget to leave feedback in the comments or tags - we've got lots of chapters to go and hearing thoughts really helps <3

Smut warnings - mutual masturbation, fingering, use of a very questionable dildo, is this considered cheating? Idk it's all blur here, jerking off, cum feeding, cum eating and I hope that's all?

“Fucking hell.” 

You mumbled, waking up the same way you had been for the last one week - startled and nearly jumping off your bed. 

While most people began their days to the ringing of alarm clocks (or roosters if they preferred the countryside), you regularly woke up to the sound of Seungcheol’s eagle screeching in your ear. 

Turning your head, you glanced at Zephyr perched on the window before it gave you a short nod of acknowledgement and flew off into the darkness. Yes darkness, because unlike most people, your day also began at 4 fucking am in the morning. 

Groaning and stretching, you sat up, holding back the large yawn that was threatening to pull you back to sleep. If Zephyr was here to wake you up, that meant you were late yet again and you hated that - you had done too many walks of shame to the training field and were in no mood to be conspicuously stared at by 13 boys as you stumbled over, carrying all your gear. 

Knowing you didn’t have enough time to drop by the washroom, you popped a mint and sprayed some deodorant before quickly grabbing your things and running out into the darkness. 

The sun was just starting to peek from between the mountains as the House Of Zeus became smaller and smaller behind you. Although you had a long list of concerns living with Seungcheol, an unbeatable advantage was how close his residence was to the training grounds. Still, you could somehow never manage to be punctual. By the time you reached, you were 15 minutes late and Seokmin had already begun the morning drills. 

“Two laps around the field newbie.” He muttered as you walked past him, habituated to receiving the same punishment everyday. 

While you begrudgingly jogged around the perimeter of the grounds, your mind wandered to everything and nothing that happened over the past few days. 

Life at camp so far had been…. strange. 

You would be lying if you said you were already accustomed to life here. You most certainly were not. And forget a week, not even a year could prepare you for what living in the wild was like. 

To begin with, there was no electricity here. That’s right, no lights, no air conditioning, no Internet, nothing. 

Member’s began their days at sunrise and ended it as sunset - after all nothing much could be done in the dim illuminance of the fire torches scattered all around the base. So of course for you, who functioned best from 1 to 3am, this archaic way of life was highly inconvenient. 

The only place that had even a trace of something technologically advanced was the Great Hall - some of the more brainy boys had managed to set up a small circuit for kitchen appliances, laundry machines, a small charging station and that was about it. Rumor was that Wonwoo's residence had its own circuit too, but no one could really confirm that intel - it was as though none of them had ever ventured into the House of Hades. 

And as though the lack of scientific inventions was not enough, showers…..were communal. Apparently it made more sense that water lines were directed to one common bath house rather than to each individual house. For them it was definitely more convenient to have the baths, jacuzzi and sauna all in one place, but for you that meant waiting everyday after training for the whole lot of them to be done washing up before you could do the same, with some privacy. 

Oh and speaking of privacy, in the last week you spent here, you had come to realize that in this all-boys-greek-mythology world, it was privacy that was the real myth. Obviously after years of living together the boys were close but sometimes, they were perhaps a tad bit too close - like the time you had walked in on Mingyu and Seokmin boxing in just their underwear or when Soonyoung and Seungkwan sat right next to you, loudly comparing their dick sizes. You usually drew the line at phallic discussions.

The one place on camp that perhaps gave you some alone time and space away from the mess that the boys were, was the library. Considering you had shifted the last year of your University to an online study, you had a shit ton of assignments to complete and that was the only place you were able to get anything done at all. It was like the boys didn’t even know the study building existed - no one cared enough to go there so yeah, maybe occasionally, you also allowed yourself to let down your hair, sing in your horribly off pitch voice and dance to beats from your walkman. Outside those four walls it was impossible for you to feel even a little peace and quiet. 

Surprisingly, not even the temple, which one would think would be a place of sanctity, was spared from the deviant actions of the boys. The altar was less a place of worship and more a place for bargains and exchange deals - it was the only way to connect to the gods, aka, the parents in Olympus. 

You had come to learn that just like the human world, not all God parents loved their kids the same - some members were regularly showered with gifts and goods, others would not receive so much as a response. You found yourself falling in the second half. Your father never cared for you in the human world and apparently, neither did your mother. 

Brushing off the thoughts of the woman you had thought was dead for the last 25 years, you wrapped up your punishment and joined the boys for morning exercises, ready to start yet another tiring day. 

“All done!” 

Joshua gave you a sweet smile as he stepped out of the bath house, rubbing the towel into his wet hair. Thanking him softly, you walked into the showers, stripped out of your clothes and turned on the hot water. The mud that Minghao had you rolling in today as part of combat training washed off as the heat worked to soothe your aching muscles. Lathering shampoo onto your scalp, you finally felt yourself relaxing, letting your favorite citrus smell take over your senses. Outside the bath house, you could hear Seungcheol raising his voice, instructing all the members to head for breakfast, loud footsteps following his words. 

Choi Seungcheol….. Living with him so far had been frustrating. 

When you first stepped into his residence, you told him that you’ve always lived alone so it might take you a while to adjust to living with someone and Seungcheol seemed to inwardly decide that giving you space was his life's purpose. After that, whenever you appeared before him, he politely greeted you and walked away. Whenever you stood as much as two feet near him he took a step back, like he didn't want to intrude on your personal space. Whenever you sat in his vicinity, he excused himself stating he'll give you some ‘me-time’. 

You wish he knew how much you were in fact craving for the exact opposite - You wanted Choi Seungcheol. God you so badly wanted him. 

It wasn't like you could just make a move on him because 

1.Hell no you didn't want him or anyone in this camp to realise just how (as Jihoon called it) thirsty you were and 

2. Seungcheol wasn’t just anybody, he was the leader. Members bowed to him when he walked by, even the companions, specially Patricia who listened to no one, obeyed him - anything and everything on this camp premises held him at the highest regard. You couldn't just walk up to such a man and tell him, “hey, you're hella hot and I'm hella attracted to you, I wish you would ravage me.”???? 

All you could hope was that Seungcheol somehow approached you on his own but that seemed questionable given the clear line he had drawn between the two of you. 

The one person you wished would actually draw a line was the first one to always cross it - Yoon Jeonghan. You knew he and Seungcheol were the same age and that they were close but you didn't understand just how close they had to be for Athena's son to barge into the leaders residence whenever he wanted? Even at times you were changing your clothes or lying casually on the bed in your night dresses that barely covered anything. 

The most infuriating part was Jeonghan did not ever apologize - he'd just laugh and walk away and you wanted to do nothing more than throw a shoe at him. For some reason he enjoyed getting on your nerves, he enjoyed making you angry and it wasn’t just you - in the last one week, it was evident that Jeonghan was a pain in everyone's ass but somehow they all adored him? You didn't get why they all seemed to love a man who always liked to pull their leg, never leaving any chance to fool them with his wit - you assumed they just preferred to be on his good side so all his harmless fun remained harmless. 

Even Joshua, who was one of the sweetest people you knew, seemed to have a soft spot for Jeonghan. 

When you asked him why he said before Jeonghan joined camp, Seungcheol was very uptight and ran the camp like a military barrack - it was the former’s pranks and carefree attitude that allowed members to be at ease. Though he was talking about Jeonghan, you knew what Joshua’s words truly reflected were his own good nature. He just seemed like the kind of guy who could do no wrong - like a pure, sweet soul. The days after you first arrived at camp it was Joshua who showed you around, guided you with everything and tried to make you feel at home. No one else really tried to get to know you as a person - they were all more interested about how and why you landed in their camp. 

It also helped that Joshua was extremely pleasant on the eyes - at times when you didn’t want to feel overburdened by thoughts, you loved to sit next to him and watch him work on his little craft for the day or write that new novel of his. Yes he was good looking and yes when he smiled, you felt dazzled, but it was his sweet disposition that made you choose his company over the other members.

On the days he would go off to the city for some work, the next best place you found yourself was on Jun’s farm. Not that he was particularly nice to you or anything, Jun was…. quiet. He seemed to always do his thing, not bothering anyone, only speaking when required. When the evenings rolled around, you liked to take Natalie on a walk to visit the man she had a big fat crush on. Honestly though, who wouldn’t have a crush on someone like Jun - though he was the one working in the fields, it was you who was sweating, just watching him. 

Although you did want to talk to him, try to get to know him a little bit, you chose not to - as someone who enjoyed the peace and quiet, you decided to let at least some member offer you that because guys like Soonyoung sure as hell could not. 

Soonyoung was…….. A teenager stuck in a man’s body. Oh yeah he was hot as hell - just the nice build with muscles popping in all the right places. He knew how to dress better than most people on camp too - if you had seen him somewhere else, you would have thought he was one of those cool kids you always saw on campus. 

But that image of him was destroyed the moment he sat on a Leopard and insisted it was a tiger. Over the last week, that was the predominant discussion between the two of you. That and his incessant flirting. Or rather, attempt to flirt. All he came across was cheesy, kinda humorous and loud. Extremely loud. 

Wonwoo on the other hand was as silent as the night. 

Most of the time you didn’t even know if and when he was around, it was like he was non-existent. The members too didn’t seem to bother much with what he did - you noticed he didn’t wash up with the others, often hitting the showers after you were done. He never came for any meals on time, he always stayed back, even after all the members dispersed for the day - he just seemed to function however he liked and no one questioned him. He never questioned you either - Not once did Wonwoo ever attempt to make conversation with you or even meet your eye. It was like he couldn’t care less and that wasn't very pleasant for you. 

Someone who seemed to care a lot though, was Jihoon. Oh Jihoo was quiet too, but somehow he had his eyes on everything. Everything you did, everything you saw, even everything you felt seemed to find its way into Jihoon’s radar - he just knew. It terrified you that he was able to see right through you but the good thing about Jihoon was that he generally kept his mouth shut and wasn’t too keen on discussing his observations. Regardless, his presence made you feel extremely conscious and a part of you often tried to not be alone with him, lest he could read your mind or something. 

As the last of the soap rinsed off you, you turned off the water and grabbed your towel, patting yourself down. Your body was sore and aching all over - Minghao said that was because you were not used to such combat routines and in a few months time you would get used to it but you weren’t really sure if you had it in you to tolerate all this for that long. 

You also still had no idea what exactly these skills were needed for but from the conversations you overheard, it sounded like some sort of competition? That was both unlikely and terrifying cause who really competed with swords and spears anymore but if it was true, then what the actual hell??? Minghao said he didn’t want to scare you with the details just yet and would explain everything when the time came. For now, you were to focus on building your core strength and basic self defense, in case the camp is ever attacked…. Yes, cause that is less scary, way to make one feel better. 

But that was the thing about Minghao - he did not have the habit of sugar coating things. He was honest with his feedback no matter how rude it sounded and though sometimes it did make you feel like shit, he also made sure to push you to do better. You knew if there was anyone you could approach for a real, unbiased opinion, it was him. 

The same could not be said for Mingyu though - everything that came out of his mouth was saccharine sweet to the point it actually annoyed you. There was no doubt he was a nice guy - he was handsome, goofy, really good with his hands, really really good with his brain but the same didn’t extend to his mouth. His style of getting your attention was to ceaselessly seek validation and unfortunately for him, you weren’t really someone who was great with words of affirmation. When he was not trying so hard to please though, Mingyu was truly the biggest sweetheart with the fattest, most caring heart you had ever come across - the kind one wanted to wrap in bubble wrap and tuck away safely. 

Seokmin too fell in the same category - the type who was so precious, it was hard to believe people like him even existed. The only reason you were able to survive these few weeks of training despite coming late was because Seokmin had your back every time Seungcheol wasn’t watching - allowing you to take breathers, overlooking the fact that you were doing less sets than you were supposed to, things of that sort. He was always sweet and calm, giving you soft smiles and sweet eye crinkles. 

With his members though, Seokmin was a whole different person - he was unnaturally loud, extremely energetic and all over the place. The problem was, you didn’t know which of the two was the real him. You weren’t really sure why but something told you Seokmin wasn’t the man he seemed like and a strange curiosity coursed through you every time you interacted with him. 

Seungkwan on the other hand was the exact opposite, he was exactly what he seemed like - always annoyed, unabashedly honest and unnecessarily snarky. In a way, you understood him - Seungkwan had the habit of taking on many things at once and keeping him unbelievably busy. In university, you too were like this - you took extra modules, signed up for multiple clubs, worked an internship alongside a couple of part time jobs and more. You liked to be occupied, to not allow yourself the room to think about what your life could have been otherwise. Maybe that’s why you saw yourself in Mr. Busy Boo - always roaming around with that bluetooth in his ear, attending some meeting or the other, frequently heading to the city to get work done - ‘rest’ was just not a word in his dictionary.

But even amidst all this business and even though his automated response was to snap back at people, he still managed to bond really well with the members despite having joined the camp only a few months before you had. It was like they all needed him to be their constant reality check. 

The one who you thought required his presence more than anyone was Hansol. A man like him whose entire personality was avoidant needed someone like Seungkwan who would drag him into everything forcibly. Hansol wasn’t like Wonwoo, who was unbothered, couldn’t care less and pretended like you didn’t exist. Hansol was well aware of your presence and chose to actively avoid you every time - if you remembered right, there were even instances when he had practically run away from you. Something was just weird about that guy. 

Perhaps the most normal of them all was Chan - actually he was just as loud and consistently blabbering much like some of the others but something about him made you feel very fond of him. Sure he was the same age as you but he felt like a child, always babied by his members, always grinning like a cheshire cat. And consequently, you too naturally babied him and Chan too enjoyed it - the two of you were perfectly content with your dynamic. 

If only you got that same feeling with everyone else……

As you grabbed your things and stepped out of the bath house fully dressed, Wonwoo was standing outside with a towel slung on his shoulder, scrolling through his phone. Without so much as looking at you, he walked past you, into the shower room, loudly shutting the door behind him. 

“Can you ever be on time?” Jeonghan sighed, handing you a plate of pancakes as you looked around realizing everyone was nearly done with breakfast. “It’s not my job to wait your table every morning.” 

“Until you lot arrange for me to have my own shower,”  You grabbed an apple, taking a bite into it as you sat at the extra long dining table. “I’m afraid this is exactly how late I will be everyday.” 

“You know what they say sweetie,” Soonyoung whisked the apple from your hand, taking a bite of his own. “If you can’t beat the crowd, join the crowd.”

You looked at him exasperatedly, knowing that he was just talking out of his ass. Maybe if it was someone else you'd be offended but seeing his childlike face and full cheeks, you were only mildly amused. 

“I'm more of the ‘don't join the crowd, let it follow you’ kinds.”

“Oh I'd follow you anywhere Y/n.” He sighed dreamily as you laughed, taking a bite out of your pancakes that were still too hot. 

“How about you start following your own girlfriend instead Kwon?” Minghao walked around the kitchen island shooting Soonyoung an unimpressed look. “Rumour is that she was seen outside the Dreamboys Disco and we all know exactly what one goes there for.”

“She's not my girlfriend anymore.” Soonyoung muttered. “We broke up.”

“Weren't you just planning an anniversary trip two days ago?” Seokmin looked at him quizzically. 

“Yeah then we argued over a location and she said it was better we broke up for a while.” 

“This is what, your third breakup this month?”

“Fifth.” He whispered sadly in a way that made you want to pat his back. “Sixth actually, if you count the one that lasted for 3 hours.” 

“I'll never understand these on again off again kind of relationships.” Seungkwan clicked his tongue, hurriedly grabbing a banana, balancing all the files in his hand. “The only thing it screams to me is disrespect.” 

“Okay Mr. Seung-I-am-the-son-of-Hera-and-marriage-is-the-way-of-life-Kwan” Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “Not every traditional relationship is healthy, and not everything unconventional is toxic.”

“Yes, except yours is both unconventional and toxic.” Seungkwan scoffed, raising his hand before Soonyoung retaliated. “I can’t care enough right now, tiger boy, I’m already late. We can reschedule your relationship counseling session sometime later.” 

“How about never?” Soonyoung grumbled as Seungkwan rushed off, attending a call on his bluetooth. “Who’s idea was it for him to join the camp again?” 

“Mine.” Seungcheol slid onto the seat across you, raising an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?” 

“Nope.” Soonyoung shook his head fast. “Absolutely not.”

Smirking just a little, Seungcheol turned to you, sliding a couple pieces of chicken breast off his plate onto yours. “You need to eat more Y/n, that little won’t last you through the day.” 

“Same goes for you..” Jeonghan mumbled, placing a bottle of protein shake near Seungcheol who gave him a grateful smile. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jun increase the portion of chicken to buy on the huge shopping list scribbled on the white board.

If there was anything you absolutely loved about this camp, it was the brotherhood. No matter what each member was like individually, as a team, they loved and cared about each other immensely. You weren’t really sure if and when they could extend the same for you but having lived alone nearly all your life, a part of you craved to be one of them, to be cared for like that. 

“I won’t be able to make it for the meeting tonight.” Wonwoo, as usual, strolled in much later than you and no one, as usual, had any complaints with that. In fact rather uncharacteristically nicely, Jeonghan handed him breakfast, shooting him a worried look.

“Why, what’s wrong?” 

“I need to drop by the headquarters today.” He sighed, sitting a couple of seats away from you. “There’s an important official coming and apparently my presence is needed.” 

“Will you be back by nightfall?” Seungcheol asked, looking concerned. You knew why he was worried - if Wonwoo wasn’t there on camp grounds at night that meant all the members had to take their places on the perimeter to guard overnight. Sleep was not an option that night. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replied, not looking up. “I will just have to miss out on the meeting for the lawsuit.” 

Right that meeting. The one you, Jeonghan and Wonwoo, had been trying to have for days now to sort out the biggest mess of your life. 

“Shouldn’t be a problem, Nonu.” Mingyu patted his shoulder, shooting you a wink. “Y/n has other plans with me today anyways.” 

You frowned confused as Mingyu clarified. “You were going to finalise your house plan so I could start construction, remember?” 

Oh yeah, you had that too. 

“Awesome, then I can go to the city today.” Jeonghan clapped cheerily, taking his apron off. 

“You don’t work today though…..” Jun muttered, looking at the shortage in the lunch boxes he had packed. 

“Don’t worry about food, I got some friends to meet over lunch.” The older man shot him a two-fingered salute before jogging out of the dining hall, earning Seungcheol’s tired sigh. 

“I can never keep up with him-” 

“Cab leaves in five!” Chan shouted, poking his head through the window. 

The members around immediately stuffed the last of their breakfast, grabbing their things hurriedly, rushing out to get the front seat in Chan’s car. Afterall, the ones behind had to squeeze to fit themselves in and the one hour bumpy ride to the city was not fun. From their collective groans though you could tell Jeonghan had called shotgun - the asshole was lucky as usual. 

Seungcheol downed the last of his breakfast with a fond laugh before turning to you. 

“Have a nice day Y/n, I’ll see you later.” 

You tried not to smile back at him too widely as your eyes followed him leaving the premises. When you turned back to your meal, you could feel a set of eyes keenly looking at you. Looking up, you saw Jihoon staring at you with a small smirk, his expression all knowing. Gulping, you excused yourself from there. 

You stared at the blueprint before you, humming skeptically. 

“Are you still not happy with the design?” Mingyu sighed, crossing his arms. 

“I don’t know.” You drawled. “Something about it feels….off.” 

“Something about your own design that you made for your own house feels off?” 

“Gyu.” Joshua chastised, standing up from the couch and walking over to you. “Artists second guess their work all the time, have some patience.” 

“I am patient.” The bigger man pointed. “But she’s unbelievably indecisive.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” You looked up at Mingyu guiltily. “It’s just, I’m wondering if having a bathroom in my residence is a good idea or if I should just have another small one built by the bath house? I mean think about it - my residence is so far from the training grounds and the dining hall, if I had to walk all this distance everyday, I’m only going to be more late-” 

“I get it.” Mingyu patted your back. “I get your concerns but the sooner we finalize this, the sooner I can get to building it and the sooner you can get out of Seungcheol’s house and into your own space.” 

Ahhh. 

Right. 

A part of you was thankful that Jihoon wasn’t a part of this discussion otherwise he would’ve seen right through your subtle attempts to delay this process. You didn’t want to be an inconvenience on purpose but….. You were just a girl and you wanted to get to know Cheol a little better. It didn’t help that he was barely ever at home, leaving at the crack of dawn for training and only returning very late at night, after he finished attending night school doing that stupid astronomy degree of his. The only time you ever got with him was on Sunday because members did not train on Sundays - everyone was free to do whatever they wanted. And you wanted to do Cheol. 

So far you only had the chance to spend one weekend alone with him and maybe just maybe if you pushed your house construction a little you’d have the chance for another weekend or two. Then perhaps, you’d be able to take this unresolved, unnecessary tension with him somewhere. 

“How about you take a few days and work on your plan again Y/n?” Joshua rolled up the large paper carefully, handing it to you. “Whenever you’re ready let me and Mingyu know - we’ll try and figure out the materials, budget, feasibility and all that.” 

“It’s times like this I miss Jeonghan’s brain.” Mingyu clicked his tongue, disappointed. “Where did he say he was off to again?” 

“When does he ever tell us?” Joshua mumbled. “He should be back by nightfall though. Jun said he needed help with the fertilizer composition and Han told him he would help.” 

“Wow, he’s capable of being useful.” You rolled your eyes, stashing the blueprint into your bag. Mingyu and Joshua laughed, amused.

“Jeonghan is always useful..” 

“We still haven’t managed to figure out a thing about my lawsuit and my hearing is in a few weeks-” 

“Han and Wonwoo will sort it out Y/n, don’t worry.” Joshua rubbed your arm comfortingly. “They’re the best one can ask for.” 

“Yeah except I can’t seem to ask Jeonghan for anything cause he’s a little bitch or ask Wonwoo anything because for that he would need to realise that I exist and I don’t think he does.” 

“Wonwoo hyung is….” Mingyu trailed off. “He’s a little hard to understand. Just give him some time. Once you figure him out, you’ll know why he’s like this.”

Exasperated, you shook your head and walked away. Time was the one thing you never seemed to have. 

Like always, as the sun began setting you glanced out of the window of the library catching sight of the varied hues in the sky. On the camp ground you could see Mingyu riding his big mechanical bull, lighting up the fire torches around for the night. Pulling out the lighter from your bag, you stared at the candles stacked in the middle of the table. 

Sighing you cast the lighter aside and snapped your fingers, watching the flames come to life in your hand, dancing across your palm. Stretching your fingers, and moving your hand around, you watched the orange yellow light just glide across your skin like it was a pretty accessory and not literal fire that should have obliterated your hand by now. 

Fire never did burn you - how could it when a mere thought could make it come alive in your hands. You first discovered this when you were 16 and accidentally dunking your hand in a pot full of boiling water did not leave so much as a scar. Even though you were unscathed you roamed around for a few days with a fully bandaged hand - the world would have thought you were some sort of freak otherwise. Over the years you tried to play with fire in many ways, just to test your limits, just to see how far you could go and each time, much to your own dismay, the limit didn’t exist. Each time proved just how much you didn’t fit in the world, just how much you deserved to be alone because you really were a freak. 

But that was until a few weeks ago. 

Until you discovered it wasn’t the inability to burn that was the true madness - it was your ability to create fire itself. 

From there things spiraled. You learnt you weren’t the anomaly but a part of a rather large group of such circus acts - a world completely hidden from your own. In a cascade of events you were thrown into camp seventeen out of no will of your own and now, this was your life, this was your world. 

Holding your flaming hand over your redrawn sketches you glanced at them. Thanks to the two boys yet again canceling the meeting with you, you found yourself working in the library earlier than usual, exhausted by the time the sun set. As you debated between working a little more or heading back, the door opening with a slow creak made the decision for you - if it was windy outside, it was most likely going to rain and you didn’t want to stay long enough to get drenched. Quickly dousing the flame and blowing out the candles, you grabbed all your things and saw your way out. 

In the darkness, the camp was quiet as usual. You figured most of the members must’ve retired to their residences for the night and when you reached the House of Zeus, surprisingly, so had Seungcheol. 

“Y-you’re home.” You stuttered, watching the shirtless man, doing sit ups in the middle of the living room in the dim golden light of the paraffin lamps. 

Evidently Seungcheol hadn’t expected your presence so soon either because at the sound of your voice, he got up with a jerk, pulling a muscle in his abdomen. 

“Cheol oh my god-” 

“You’re early.” He got up wincing, holding the side of his trunk. “I’m sorry I should have been doing this in my room-” 

“I mean, the whole house is yours-” 

“There’s a heavy rain forecast today, not really much astronomy I can do-” 

“Yeah I came back because of the rain too-” 

“Yeah me too….” Seungcheol trailed off realising how silly he sounded. 

Grabbing his shirt from the floor, he attempted to put it on, groaning miserably at the pain shooting up his abdomen. Watching him struggle, you quickly dropped your things and tried to reach for him to help out, but just as your finger barely grazed over his skin, he stumbled back like he was electrocuted, pushing your hand away. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“Cheol…. “ You frowned, confused. “I was just trying to help-” 

 “Seungcheol.” He corrected. “And I don’t need your help Y/n. Please just…. stay away from me.” 

You blinked at a complete loss of words at his unwarranted behaviour. Unsure about how you felt, you grabbed your bag from the floor, turned on your heel and walked out silently, the same way you came in. 

As usual, bad luck had followed you on your way out. 

Not only was your life miserable, the weather too decided to be a pain in your ass and it started drizzling the moment you stepped out of Seungcheol’s house. 

Even though the water was cold and you were shivering, you took off in the rain. You needed to get as far away from here as you could. 

You were such a fool. You should have known that Seungcheol wasn’t being nice or giving you your space, on the contrary he was keeping his distance, putting you at an arm’s length. It was evident today - not only was he uninterested, but somehow it seemed like your very presence was disturbing him in some way. 

And there was you who was always desperately wishing for the smallest interaction with him.. What an idiot. 

Hugging yourself, you walked further down the cobbled path. Tomorrow you were going to finalise your house plan with Mingyu and get out of Cheol’s house as soon as possible. But as much as you wanted to avoid him and pull yourself away, a part of you was still aching at the loss of something that you believed had a lot of potential. Why did it have to be him of all people? Why couldn’t it have been someone like Mingyu - he was hot as hell and unlike his leader, he actively showed interest in you all the time. 

As you raised your head, Mingyu’s house loomed before you and your feet, as if they had a brain of their own, took you towards his mini mansion of a residence. That was until you saw Jihoon stepping out of the same place and instinctively took a swift u-turn. 

The last person who could see you right now was Jihoon - that man would read you like an open book and know exactly how fucking embarrased you were. Hoping to god he didn’t spot you, you quickly ran, entering the nearest gate for temporary refuge, till you got out of his sight. 

But in hindsight, perhaps falling in Jihoon’s line of vision was better than the situation you had landed yourself in….. You weren’t really sure who’s house you had trespassed until the low growling expressed just how much his companion disliked it. 

Horang. 

Realising you had quite literally thrown yourself into the den of a wild cat, you froze, praying that it didn’t notice you and you could slip out as easily as you slipped in. But before you could do anything, a hand grabbed you quickly, leading you into the neighbouring cottage, shutting the door behind you. 

“Are you insane?” Soonyoung looked at you confused, shaking the water off his hair. “Why would you enter Horang’s enclosure unless you wanted to be ripped apart.” 

“I didn’t know….” You rubbed your arms, generating heat. “I was just….trying to escape the rain.” 

“You should have knocked on my door then..” He muttered, disappearing for a split second, returning with a towel in his hand. “Horang isn’t used to you yet so please don’t venture near my tiger in my absence - he only listens to me.” 

You tried not to hyperfixate on the inappropriate labeling of Horang in the off chance that an annoyed Soonyoung threw you back out. Instead, you accepted his towel, patting yourself dry, still shivering a little. With his hands on your shoulder, Soonyoung led you to the fireplace, guiding you to sit on the couch across. As you did, you glanced around his residence.

This was the first time you were in Soonyoung’s place and in all honesty, it looked much like that designated room in college dorms where all the parties happened - he had party lights everywhere, streamers hanging from the ceiling and techno music softly playing over the speakers. 

When you turned back to him, Soonyoung held out a christmas mug, with a grin. “Mulled wine.”

“I can’t.” You shook your head although in the headspace you were in, you could really use some alcohol. “I won’t be able to wake up on time tomorrow.” 

“It’s not like you’ll be on time even if you were sober.” He chuckled, immediately regretting his words as you narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re in the House of Dionysus. This is literally the only hot drink I have to offer.” 

Sighing you took it from him, desperate to have something warm coursing through your body after all that coldness you experienced earlier. 

“So, why are you out and about in the rain?” Soonyoung sank into the couch beside you, sipping a drink of his own. 

“I….just needed to be away from that house for a while.” You mumbled, taking a sip. 

“Why? Has Seungcheol gotten overbearing already?” 

“It’s not him….” 

“It’s always him.” Soonyoung sighed. “But it’s not his fault. He just has a lot of pressure on him to be perfect as a leader, you know? That sort of thing gets to you.” 

“I know. It’s just….. “ You sighed, not knowing how to explain things to him. “Forget it, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“No, tell me.” He whined making you turn to him, finally noticing he was fully dressed from head to toe like he was about to march right into a party. 

“Are you going somewhere?” 

“Work?” Soonyoung stated like it was obvious. “Don’t tell me you forgot what I do.” 

You looked at him sheepishly. “I’ve been here for just a week Kwon and there’s thirteen of you so I’m sorry if it’s taking me some time.” 

“Forgiven.” He nodded amused. “I own the Midnight club in the city centre.” 

“Right, that big Demigod rave place.” 

“No, the Midnight club is for humans. There’s another club hidden behind it, After Hours - That’s for Demigods exclusively.” 

You let out an oh of realization as Soonyoung continued. 

“Business usually runs fine on its own but I try to drop by from time to time to just remind everyone who the boss is.” 

“I heard there’s a life size portrait of you behind the DJ booth to do the same.” 

“Obituaries are portraits too.” He rolled his eyes. “I need to let them know I am alive, kicking and always in charge.” 

You shook your head laughing. “Well then aren’t you getting late? You should probably leave by now-” 

“I don’t think I’m going.” He mumbled, downing his drink in one shot, red slowly creeping on his face. “Not in the mood.” 

Glancing at him silently, you just blinked at him. You knew guys like Soonyoung could not keep a thing in them - he would share whatever was bothering him without you even asking in three, two, on-

“The intel is that my ex is going to be there tonight.” 

“Ahh.” You crossed your feet on his couch, settling in. “And you don’t want to see her?” 

“I don’t want to see her with other men.” He gripped his mug tight. “With the news out that she’s single, guys will be falling all over her and I know she’s going to play along just to make me jealous.” 

“Well two can play that game right? You can do the same?” 

“What makes you think there are girls fawning all over me?” 

“Do you just want to hear me say you’re hot and that you could pull if you wanted to?” You cocked your head at him. “Cause I can. I have a little wine in me so I can use it as an excuse.” 

Soonyoung laughed, throwing his head back. “No I know I’m hot, but do you know who she is?” 

You shook your head, drinking up more. 

“Aphrodite’s daughter, the femme fatales of the demigod world - boys want her and girls don’t want to mess with her. No one is going to so much as look at her ex, forget trying to hit on me.” 

“Huh.” You pondered, the cogwheels in your brain turning. “Well technically, no one in the human world knows her so I’m sure one of them will-” 

“There’s no point of that. She knows I won’t go for a human.” 

“Why is that?” 

Soonyoung stared back at you a little hard before a small smirk formed on his face. “Y/n, are you a virgin?” 

You blinked, breaking out into a laugh. “I sure am drunk cause I seem to have missed why this intrusive question is relevant now?” 

Taking your empty mug from you, Soonyoung filled it up again from the pot. “What I mean is, demigods don’t sleep with humans sweetie.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because we’re half gods, do you think humans can really satisfy us?” Soonyoung raised his eyebrows. “Mortals can’t keep up with our sex drive.” 

As you looked confused, the smirk returned back to Soonyoung’ face. “Which is why I asked. If you haven’t realised that a mortal man can’t pleasure you, then either you’ve never had sex……. or you’ve never had an orgasm.” 

“I don’t have to answer that.” 

“Come on, humor me.” 

“Maybe I’m starting to get why your girlfriend dumped your annoying ass.” 

Soonyoung pouted, feigning hurt as you rolled your eyes. 

“So now if you want to get her back, you won’t be hit on by another demigod and you can’t be hit on by a human which means your only chance of making her jealous is with……” You looked at him intently. “Kwon Soonyoung, why are your eyes glimmering with mischief?” 

“You.” He took the cup from your hands and set it on the table, much to your dismay. “You’re the only one who she doesn’t know about and the only one who doesn’t know her…..” 

“So?” 

“Oh you’d be the perfect bait.” Soonyoung clapped his hands. “One look at you next to me and she’s going to be quaking in her boots.” 

“If you think I’m about to stroll into a nightclub and pretend to hit on you to make your ex girlfriend jealous you’re sorely mistaken.” 

“Why?” He whined. “Why can’t you do me a small favour. I saved you from Horong-” 

“Number one. If you didn’t pull me into your house, I would have ran out of the gate and been safe anyways-” 

“Sure.” 

“Number two, I don’t know what the hell is in this wine. Normally it takes a whole bottle to knock me down but two glasses in and I’m already buzzed-” 

“It’s a special blend.” 

“And number three, unfortunately for you, women are really observative creatures. One look at me next to you and she’s going to know there’s absolutely nothing going on between us.” 

Soonyoung opened and closed his mouth like he was thinking about what to say. “It won’t work out Kwon.” 

“This always happens.” He sighed. “She breaks it off with me for any small thing, goes on to have her fun, pushes me till I have to beg for her forgiveness and then she accepts it whenever she feels like. Everything is always whenever she feels like it. We haven’t even had sex in like two years-” 

“Okay.” You cut him off before he went into details you didn’t need to know. “If you’re so aware of what she’s doing, why do you always give in to her? Do you really like her or… is she just a habit?” 

“I don’t know.” Soonyoung stared at the floor, lost in thought. “I just know that we’ve been together since we were 18. And I can’t throw that away.” 

“I never knew you were such a romantic Kwon.” 

He laughed, sinking further into the couch. 

“You really want her back huh?” 

“I do.” 

“And this time do you want her to make the effort?” 

“A man can hope.” 

“Well then.” You turned to him. “Point number three was relevant only if she saw me…do you have your phone?” 

Soonyoung nodded, patting his many pockets and finally finding it, holding it out. 

“You're going to call and tell her you're hitting on me?”

“No…. If you give her a missed call will she call back?”

“Not immediately.” He sighed. “She'll take her time to pretend like she didn't see and then get back to me-” 

“Do it.” He continued to look at you confused. “Call her and cut the call.” 

He followed through but the frown didn't leave him the whole time. “Y/n what exactly are you doing?” 

“This may be a bit diabolical but it should do the trick.” You took a deep breath glancing at Soonyoung. “When she calls you back, she's going to hear us having sex.”

“W-what?” 

“Before you get any ideas, I'm not going to have sex with you Soonyoung, we're just going to make her think that we are.”

“How exactly will we do that?”

“We'll fake it.” You shrugged. “Make a couple of wet skin smacking sounds-” 

“and you could moan my name, say how good I'm making you feel.” 

“Didn’t you get onboard this real fast.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I'm going to make it really clear once again that this is for her not-” 

Ring! 

At the sound of the ringtone both of you glanced at his phone and in a split second, Soonyoung picked up the call, holding it against his ear. Thankful that you got the opportunity to execute your idea so soon and determined to put up the show you promised, you immediately got to it, clearing your throat.

“Fuck yes Soonyoung, that feels so good-” 

With widened eyes and a swift movement, Soonyoung shut your mouth with his hand, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, yeah I remember…..Oh no that was just…. our cow?…..Yes Daisy, she's just having a rough night….. Anyways thanks for the reminder Hyungwon.”

You stared at him mortified, all the wine threatening to exit your system. 

“Yeah sure, see you tomorrow bro.”

Soonyoung brought down both the phone and his hand at the same time. 

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I thought it was-” 

“That’s your idea of having sex??” He looked at you shocked. “Thank god it wasn’t Mina because there was no way in hell she would have believed that?” 

“Hey, I had no preparation time, you try faking it off the bat.” You mumbled. “Besides, it wasn’t so bad.” 

“Wasn’t so bad?” Soonyoung looked scandalised. “Do you even know what you sounded like? Fuck yes Soonyoung, that feels good-” 

You leaned back inching away from him. 

“What the…..what was that?” 

“That's what you said.” 

“I know but” You frowned unsure if you heard right or if you were starting to get too drunk. “You sounded exactly like me. Like your voice, it….it was mine.” 

“Oh.” Soonyoung scratched the back of his head. “Yeah well um being the son of the God of Theater comes with its own skill set. Imitation helps confuse opponents during war - it has actually saved us in quests many times.”

“You can imitate anyone?”

Soonyoung nodded.

“Any sound they make?”

He nodded again as you let out a low whistle. 

“Well that's brilliant, then you don't even need me. You can make your girlfriend jealous by simply impersonating me.” 

“The keyword is imitate. I can only repeat sounds I hear, I can't just make them up.” He shifted in his seat. “So if I should impersonate you, I need to hear what you actually sound like during sex.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don't push your luck Kwon.”

“I'm kidding.” He laughed leaning back into the couch, his eyes fluttering shut. “But you really have to work on the faking.” 

“Yeah I've been told.” You muttered as Soonyoung sat up again.

“Aha, so you have never had an orgasm!” 

“Because of a man, no I've not.” You confessed. “But bold of you to assume that I'm not perfectly capable of my own.”

Soonyoung looked confused. 

“Ever heard of masturbation, genius?” 

Soonyoung's mouth formed an O of realisation. “Well I've been in a relationship for almost 10 years so I've never had to take care of myself.”

“Don't rub it on my face Kwon.” You scoffed but regretted immediately knowing some dirty joke was going to come out of the man. So shutting his mouth with your hand, you held a finger to your lips. “Not a word. You're going to shut up till your girlfriend calls back.”

“That could be a very very long time.” He mumbled against your hand making you press it harder against his mouth with a shush. 

5 minutes later you were on your fourth mug of wine and Mina still hadn't called. 

10 minutes later, you were nearly falling asleep and Soonyoung was already snoring away beside you. 

15 minutes later the sound of the rain began to get softer outside. 

And 20 minutes later was when you finally lost your patience, shaking Soonyoung awake. 

“It’s getting late, I should go….” 

Soonyoung looked up at you sleepily as you got off the couch, standing up. 

“You should.….. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have roped you into this” He glanced at the blank screen on his phone. “Clearly Mina is either too busy having fun on her own or she doesn’t care.” 

You smiled at him sadly, as he pulled his feet up, snuggling into the couch. 

“I'm so sorry.” You whispered. “Goodnight Kwon.” 

“Goodnight sweetie.”

Setting the mug down, you grabbed your bag and opened his front door, relieved that the rain seemed to have stopped. But something was also stopping you from stepping out. 

Giving it a thought and sighing, you turned around, looking at the half asleep man again. 

“You said you could imitate me right?” 

Soonyoung's eyes slowly fluttered open.  

“So if you listen to how I actually sound, if and when she calls back, you can execute the plan on your own right?”

Soonyoung looked at you in a mix of confusion, drunkenness and sleepiness.

“Are you saying that…”

“No, I'm not going to sleep with you Kwon Soonyoung.”

“But you're horrible at faking.” 

“Yet again I'm going to remind you about masturbation.” 

You sighed, looking at his eternally lost expression. Grabbing his hand, you pulled him off the couch, leading him to his room. 

Soonyoung's room was just how you expected it to be - a mess. There were things scattered everywhere, all kinds of band posters up on the wall, snack wrappers all over the floor. 

He quickly kicked the trash under his bed and looked at you pleadingly. “You cannot tell Mingyu how messy my room is. And you most definitely cannot tell Seungcheol I'm snacking - he does not understand post break up slump.”

You gritted your teeth annoyed to be reminded of him again. Of course he didn't understand anything remotely related to feelings.

“Don't worry, no one's gonna know anything because you too are going to keep your mouth shut about whatever happens tonight.” 

“I still don't know what's happening tonight.” He mumbled as you walked around his room, glancing at everything. 

“I'm going to get myself off and you're going to listen and take notes.” Soonyoung's eyes finally widened in realisation.“Do you have a towel?” 

He nodded, quickly going through the stack of clothes piled on the chair across his bed and pulled out a long white one. Taking it from him you laid it down on his bed, the two of you staring at it mindlessly. 

“Could you also close the curtains?” You fidgeted with your fingers, putting your bag down at the foot of his bed as Soonyoung nodded. “Also dim the lights please.”

Following through your requests he tried not to look at you as you stripped out of your jacket and threw it on the bed. But when you unclasped your bra and pulled it out from under your shirt, Soonyoung was quite literally gawking. 

“I’m hot.” You mumbled as he walked back, standing much closer to you than he was before. 

“Yeah you are…. I mean,” He cleared his throat when you raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah it's a little hot in here.” 

Both of you tried to ignore the sound of cold raining softly falling against the window. 

“On second thoughts,” You took a step back. “I don’t know if I can do this.” 

“W-why not?” 

“If you haven’t noticed I am buzzed as hell and I’m not sure I can do…. a great job on myself right now.” 

Lips slowly curling into a smile, Soonyoung cocked his head. “I can help.” 

“Yes and I can finally use all that combat training and kick your ass. Soonyoung I am not sleeping with-” 

“What? No, no I mean….. just wait here.” 

Your eyes followed him as he jogged out of his room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You must be crazy to suggest this. Sure there was alcohol in your system and sure you were trying to get your mind off Seungcheol, avoiding going back to his house but this…..

“Here you go.” 

Soonyoung strolled back in with what you could only describe as a wooden looking, very phallic instrument. 

“That’s…” 

He nodded. “A dildo.” 

“I have so many questions.” 

“Let me clarify. Yes I have used a dildo before-” 

“Oh god.” 

“- Although my girlfriend isn’t the biggest fan of it-” 

“This wasn’t my question.” 

“-I do occasionally enjoy it myself.” 

“I don’t think I should be a part of this conversation.” 

“But this dildo in particular, has never been used by either of us before.” 

“That!” You pointed out. “That’s all I needed to know.” 

Soonyoung held it out to you, looking at you expectantly. You gulped. 

“You know, I don’t think I can do this. I’m actually more of a vibrator girl myself.” 

“Now who’s indulging in the TMI?” 

You rolled your eyes. “My point is, I don’t need this, I can just do it myself-” 

“I haven’t even gotten to the story behind this.” He giggled. “This is my father’s.” 

“Aaaand I’m done here.” 

“No what I mean is-” He shuffled closer to you like he was revealing a big secret. “My father may be the god of wine and ecstasy and madness and theatre and so many things but he is also…. the creator of the dildo.” You stared at him vacantly. What?? “I don’t think you wanna know the story behind it, it’s disturbing as fuck-” 

“More disturbing than everything so far?” 

“-but basically, a few years back, my father was temporarily exiled from Olympus and while he was in the human world, he had, what he calls, a magnificent business idea….sex toys. Dildo’s in particular. That’s when he made this.” He held it up and you wished he did it a little less proudly. “This isn’t an ordinary dildo Y/n, no. This baby can take on the shape, size, dimensions and every single tiny detail” He gave a dramatic pause. “Of the person you are imagining while going at it.”

“W-what?” You blinked at him stumped. “You mean to say it…. morphs into a replica of someone’s actual dick?” 

Soonyoung nodded fast. “This piece is a prototype that Dionysus made but when he brought the idea to Zeus it was shut down immediately because Gods aren’t supposed to interfere with human business and all that hoo ha, so he left it with me before he returned home.” With a small smile dancing on his lips, he held it out to you. “So if you want, it's all yours.” 

You stared at it. 

A magic dildo that could take the shape of any dick you wanted? 

You would have to be insane to say no to that. 

Pretending to hesitate just so you didn’t come across completely deranged, you slowly took the toy off Soonyoung’s hand, feeling the weight of it in your own. As you tried to picture how exactly this night might go, Soonyoung took a few steps back, grabbed a fistful of the material behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head. 

“What?” He smirked as your eyes ran down his chiseled body, mouth moving but no words leaving it. “Didn’t you say it was hot?” 

As Soonyoung moved all the clothes stacked on the chair to the floor and sat down, you watched as the minor oversights in your plan came into play. If he had to take notes,  then Kwon Soonyoung was going to watch you. 

Tongue in the cheek, you glanced around the room, thanking all the gods in Olympus when you spotted a lacy blindfold hanging on the headboard. Without questioning its existence in his room, you quickly grabbed it and threw it at him.

“The deal was for audio Kwon, no visuals.” 

In complete contrast to his hot as fuck appearance he pouted like a child as you shook your head and looked at the blindfold pointedly. Sighing, he reached for it and put it over his eyes, tying it behind his hand. Not trusting him entirely, you walked up to him, slotting yourself between his legs and pulled the knot. Soonyoung’s hands gripped your thighs in both surprise and pain. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, fingers softly grazing your legs as he pulled his hands away. “I promise, I can’t see a thing.” 

You nodded, then realised he said he couldn’t see and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Okay.” He breathed, leaning back, waiting expectantly. 

Taking a few seconds, you let out a deep determined breath, preparing yourself for what was coming. As you unbuttoned your jeans, shimmying both your shorts and underwear down your legs, your eyes finally took a good look at the man of the hour, Kwon Soonyoung. Yeah he was one of the members who often trained shirtless which meant you had seen this display many times before but this was perhaps the first time you were actually paying attention to it. Before this, you hadn’t quite realised just how beautifully tanned and toned he was or how much that undercut suited him or how hot he looked biting his lower lip. 

Kicking your garments away, you pried your eyes, reminding yourself that this man was taken. Or at least would be taken again pretty soon. You shouldn’t do this. You shouldn’t be looking at him, you shouldn’t be thinking about him and he sure as fuck cannot be the inspiration for your new magic sex toy. 

That unfortunately meant that there was only one other person in your mind who could be the muse - Choi Seungcheol. Despite his dismissal earlier and despite being someone who held herself as a very high level of self respect, it was evident that your body shamelessly still craved him - he was the only one running in your mind. Trying to block him out, you arranged the pillows on Soonyoung’s bed against the headboard, adjusted the towel and slowly climbed on. In all the time that you took leaning against it, spreading your legs and settling in, Soonyoung remained incredibly quiet. Patient. 

Although he couldn’t see you, watching him felt weird, given the man and the dick on your mind were not him. Sighing, you glanced at the object you were gripping - it had already taken shape of what you desired and the sight of it made you gulp. 

Lord was Choi Seungcheol thick.

Given his beefy exterior and broad build you had always assumed he was packed between his legs but this was nowhere near what you were imagining, not even close. Earlier, you were worried how you would get yourself off when you weren’t even wet enough but now you were practically dripping with the thought of that inside you. Still, you didn’t think it could fit, not without any prep. 

Slipping two fingers in your mouth you wet them messily before guiding them to your folds, smearing the spit with your very evident arousal. When you let out a soft sigh, Soonyoung shifted in his seat like he was alert and when your fingers teased your hole, slowly slipping in, an unintentional moan left you too, making him practically grip the armrests of his couch tight. 

“I'm going to need more than that Y/n.” He whispered. “What are you doing right now?” 

“I’m prepping myself, it’s…” You gulped. “It’s too big.” 

“Do you need lube?” He frowned. “Although I don’t know where it is….or if I even have any-” 

“That’s okay.” You shook your head. “I think I’m wet enough. Almost.” 

“Do you need any help?” 

You glanced at his tense body. “How can you help?” 

“Are you the kind that listens to instructions?”

“Occasionally.” 

“Then push your fingers further.” He exhaled. “Curl them up.” 

Although that was what was on your mind anyways, you obeyed. As your fingers brushed that spot, a soft fuck escaped your lips. 

“Feel good?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Yeah that’s good.”

“Then move.” He cocked his head. “Slowly at first, then pick up speed.” 

Even before he finished his sentence you had followed through, fingers pumping faster, head falling back as the grip around the dildo in your hand tightened. 

“Add another finger.” 

“This feels good enough.” 

“This will feel better.” He urged. “Stretch yourself a little and add another finger.” 

Scissoring yourself open, you held back the moan that was threatening to tumble out, terrified Soonyoung would hear you. Belatedly you realised - Soonyoung was supposed to hear you. 

“Fuck that does feel better.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you ready for more?” 

“.......I think so.” 

“Then wet the dildo.” He shifted. “Put it in your mouth.” 

Hesitating just a bit you brought it up to your eye level, still taken aback by its sheer girth. In the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand you can see a stark vein running along his length, the sight of it nearly making your mouth water. Oh you wanted him to fill your mouth, you wanted him to fill you just about anywhere so bad but it was clear from earlier that Seungcheol didn’t want the same. So you were just going to take this chance and fuck him out of your brain. After tonight you were not going to think of Choi Seungcheol anymore. 

Determined, you wrapped your mouth around the tip, humming against the weight on your tongue before pulling it out with a wet pop. As Soonyoung’s breath hitched, you sunk your mouth down on it again, taking it further in, not far enough to let it hit the back of your throat, but enough to just slightly choke around it, drool running down the corner of your mouth. 

“Y/n,” Soonyoung’s voice sounded almost choked too. “Please….” 

You’ve never had a man beg for you like this before and it wasn’t enough to touch him but to touch yourself? Something in you swelled in pride, but something was also terrified about what things would be like once this was over - could you and Soonyoung really be the same again? And if things were going to change, how would they be? 

“Sweetie, you have to do something….” 

Knowing you needed something in you more than he did, you drove the thoughts away before aligning the tip at your dripping hole and slowly pushing Seungcheol’s girth in. 

“Holy shit..” You sighed as you thrusted his length further, the stretch serving a sting that slowly ebbed from pain to pleasure. 

“Is it all the way in?” Soonyoung groaned as you shook your head gulping.

“It’s not…” You panted, glancing down to see barely any length disappearing in you yet you were so full. “I can’t.”

“You can.” He licked his drying lips. “You can Y/n, come on - fuck yourself like you want to be fucked.” 

Yes you knew Soonyoung had a horrible habit of pointless flirting but you did not think his mouth was capable of spewing such filth too. 

“Tell me how you like it.” 

“Deep.” You whimpered, answering him as you shoved it in more, feeling it hit all the right places. “I like it deep.” 

“And fast?” 

“And fast.” 

“Then move.” 

And you did, pulling it out, pistoning it into you, sharp intakes of breath and curse words leaving you as you did. You felt your eyes roll back, threatening to shut but when they landed on Soonyoung they widened - he had slid down his chair, manspread now a lot wider and stark against his pants was the imprint of his uncomfortably trapped boner.

“Soonyoung….” You accidentally moaned, simply trying to get his attention. “Are you… hard?” 

“Unbearably.” He confessed immediately. “I’m s-sorry, it’s been a while-” 

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You don’t know why exactly you asked him that but you wanted him to feel good too. Just as good as faux Seungcheol was making you feel. 

“I think I can cum without that.” He half laughed, half groaned. “But god yes I want to.”

“Do it.” You directed him, halting your own movements, watching him. “Touch yourself.” 

Without wasting a second, Soonyoung instantly unbuttoned his pants and stuck his hand down, wrapping it around his erection. As he shifted uncomfortably, you could tell he would’ve felt a lot better if he could completely free himself.

“Careful. Otherwise I’ll see you…I mean it…” 

“Do you mind?” He raised his eyebrows at you. “Would it bother you if I….” 

If you were being honest, since the moment you laid eyes on the outline of his dick you were curious…

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t.” 

“Then I don’t give a flying fuck.” 

He raised his hips a little, just enough to pull down his pants as his erection sprung free, resting against his abs, pink and flushed. 

Oh he was long. 

Seungcheol might be thick but Soonyoung was long, like he could reach places no one else could. As he spat in his hand and smeared the pre cum along his length pumping it in his fist, you gulped, forgetting that you too were in the middle of doing the same thing, just staring. 

“Y/n,” He moaned your name, throwing his head back, setting off a strange fire in your groin. “Match my pace.” 

You nodded, thankful to not have to put your own brain to this which was threatening to shut off any moment now. Watching him half lidded, you let him set the pace for your movements, matching him almost perfectly. 

“Fuck this feels so good.” Soonyoung whimpered. 

“It does.” You agreed, with struggling breaths. “Soonyoung please…. Faster.” 

“Faster?” He smirked, but listened. “You really are one of us huh.” 

“I need more.” You whined, feeling yourself at an edge you were just not able to cross. “Soonyoung….” 

“I wish I could help, baby.” He sighed, “I really do wish…” 

“What would you have done?” 

“I’d have my mouth everywhere…marked your neck…. marked those pretty breasts….fuck Y/n, you’d have to beg me to stop.” 

“Don’t.” You moaned, pushing your shirt up with your free hand, grabbing a tit, squeezing it painfully hard. “Tell me more…” 

“I’d hold the toy for you, watch you fuck yourself on it….” He stroked himself faster, almost erratically. “Maybe give it to you from the back so I can see how your ass-” 

Groaning annoyed at the sound of music coming loudly from his pocket, your movements faltered, eyes widening. It was different from the ringtone earlier which probably meant-

“Is that Mina?” 

“Yeah.” 

“P-pick it up Soonyoung.” 

“Ignore it.” 

“Soon-” 

“Ignore it.” He emphasized. “Go on Y/n, I don’t know how long the effects of that toy are going to last.” 

And that’s what made you stop wondering why Soonyoung wouldn’t pick up the call when this was in fact the most ideal situation the two of you were meant to be caught in. You didn’t want to lose what you were pumping inside you, you didn’t want to lose the feeling of Seungcheol stretching you out. As you resumed the pace, Soonyoung’s voice left him like a croak. 

“Do you like the thought of this? Someone listening to you get off?” 

You didn’t want to answer that. Wasn’t the kind of things you liked evident by the fact that you were fucking yourself to one man while watching and listening to another? 

“Because I love that you’re watching.” He whispered. “It’s driving me insane.” 

“I wanna see you cum.” You pulled the toy out of you, tossing it onto the towel before your fingers found your clit rubbing circles hard.

“Fuck I'm close.” He pumped himself faster, losing rhythm, broken moans and whimpers leaving him. “So close.”

Words left your mouth too as incoherent babbles as you felt your back arch and insides tighten pleasurably. Eyes crossing and shut tight, you finally came, chest heaving, trying to catch a breath. As you slowly came around and ran your fingers down your folds realising just how much you came, Soonyoung continued to push himself over the edge, like he just needed a little more nudge to finally find his release. Gulping you swung your legs off the bed and silently walked up to him, standing between his manspread, leaning till your lips were right by his ear. 

“Cum for me Soonyoung.” 

Almost immediately, with a guttural moan, his head fell back, baring his neck as spurts of cum shot onto his hand and torso, painting them white. Once the sheer amount left him he finally slumped back into his chair, breathing again, like he had been holding it in for too long. The sight of his cum all over his abs against the sheen of sweat on it made you clench unwillingly and you ran two fingers over it, collecting it. You knew his lips parted to catch his breath but you took the chance to slip your digits into his mouth, letting him taste himself. Surprised but not unpleasantly, Soonyoung ran his tongue along them, licking it clean, pulling away with a pop.

“You taste as good as you sound.” 

It's only then that you realise your own arousal was coating your fingers too. 

Scoffing awkwardly, you shuffled back, picking up your shorts and panties from the floor, putting them on slowly.  

“I'm not dressed yet!” You shrieked, futilely trying to cover yourself as Soonyoung attempted to remove his blindfold. Holding his hand up, he allowed you to get dressed in the silence that followed. Silence that was too much to bear, silence that if he hadn’t broken, you would have. 

“I wasn't sure if I heard right but I thought…” He let out a deep breath as he tucked his flaccid self back in his pants. “I thought you took someone's name as you came.” 

You froze. 

You hadn't realised but now that you thought about it…. maybe, just maybe, you had taken Seungcheol’s name as your orgasm hit you. Yes you were incredibly turned on by Soonyoung and the sight of him and the sounds that left him but there was only one thing running at the back of your mind - cheol, cheol, cheol. 

“I'm not sure what you heard.” You brushed away his concerns, trying to sound casual. “I don't even know what I was saying, I was in some other zone entirely.” 

Soonyoung hummed in response and didn't push you for any further details. Grateful, you wiped your hands on the towel laid out before grabbing it, the bedsheet as well as the dildo and stuffed them all in your bag, throwing it over your shoulder - this was your mess to deal with.

“You done?” 

“Yeah just….put fresh sheets please.” 

“Oh don't worry about all that.” He got up, attempting to take his blindfold yet again. “I got it. If you want you could-” 

“Goodbye Soonyoung.” You stepped back, knowing he was offering for you to stay the night. Instead you headed for the door, hoping to leave before your eyes met his again. “I hope I was of help.” 

And as you left, you heard him sigh, revealing something he probably didn't mean for you to hear. 

“I don't think so Y/n.”

—

When you left Soonyoung’s house the rain had stopped but as you stood in the dining hall before the laundry machines the storm had returned yet again, much heavier this time. You glanced outside the windows at the obscurity sighing. It was like things just hated being in your favour. 

When the ding of the washer went off, you shifted the sheets into the dryer and decided to leave it there for the night considering you couldn't carry them back in the rain - you’d deal with them in the morning anyways, you weren’t ready to see Soonyoung just yet.

When you grabbed your bag from the floor, the weight had not reduced much - the dildo was still in it except it was back in its original popsicle-like shape, any trace of its resemblance to Seungcheol lost. You'd simply washed it and put it back in the bag, unsure what else to do with it. A part of you was annoyed that it had taken after Seungcheol of all people but the other was terrified that if you were to ever use it again, it would probably still model after him yet again. 

Disappointed with yourself you took a deep breath and shook your head. No. No more Choi Seungcheol. This ends here. 

Glancing at the machines one last time, you held onto your bag and ran out into the rain, hoping that Seungcheol had retired to his room by the time you reached. Instead, just as you approached the House of Zeus, you heard his voice. 

“Y/n!” 

He was drenched from head to toe, his blonde hair sticking to his face much like his shirt plastered against his pecs, like he had been soaked in the rain for hours. Letting out a struggled breath, you walked straight into his house, ignoring him. Seungcheol jogged over as fast as he could, putting himself in between you and the doors. 

“Y/n please listen to me-” 

“I don’t want to.” You attempted to go around him, only to be blocked by him again. 

“I just want to explain what happened earlier-” 

“I don’t care enough for an explanation.”

“I do!” 

You rolled your eyes as you pushed him away, a lot less gently than you intended to and Seungcheol immediately caught your hand, pulling you towards him.

“Seungcheol-” 

“You…. you can touch me.” He looked at his fingers wrapped around your wrist in awe, then at your palm flat against his chest.

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want me to-” 

“You shouldn’t be able to.” He muttered like he was amazed, unable to tear his eyes away. “How can you….” 

“Seungcheol, you're not making any sense.” 

He let out a deep breath. “In all the powers a demigod has, some are protective, acting like a shield."

"Okay..." You frowned.

“As the son of Zeus, mine is….a force field.” Oh. “At times like war, or in adrenaline driven situations, I become highly charged, rendering anyone who so much as comes two feet near me electrocuted. It's supposed to be a way to weaken enemies.” He sighed, “That’s why I was afraid of you touching me. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” 

“But…..Seungcheol I’m not an enemy and this isn’t a war-” 

“I get nervous around you.” He avoided your eye. “I don’t know, I just….. I can feel my skin prickling around you but……” He glanced at where your hands met his again. “You don’t feel anything?” 

“No, no I don’t but why do I make you nervous?” 

Seungcheol smiled softly. “Do you really not know?” 

You suppressed the grin forming on your own face. Fucking finally. 

“No.” You shook your head feigning innocence. “Tell me.” 

“Can I show you?” 

Maybe you nodded a bit too eagerly, because Seungcheol chuckled, pushing himself up against the door, pulling you along with him. As your body pressed against his, his hands found your waist, gaze darkening. He leaned in, lips hovering over yours, whispering your name softly, like he loved the sound of it. As your breaths mingled, lightning went off behind you, the silver light illuminating his gorgeous face and all its sharp angles. And just as you moved closer, eyes fluttering shut, Seungcheol cleared his throat. 

“Y/n I’m sorry, I forgot that it’s late and we have training at 4 tomorrow.” He muttered, drawing his hands away. “You should sleep. I can’t excuse your lateness everyday.” 

And yet again Choi Seungcheol left you completely baffled as he opened the door behind him and walked in, away from you. 

Next Chapter

a/n - please send me your thoughts - this kind of writing is waaaay out of my comfort zone, I need to know I'm not completely messing shit up and if I missed you in the taglist, please lmk!

[non-un-topo]

Siggy's Old Guard Fic Favourites Masterlist!

Welcome back, fandom! I decided to finally make a big fic rec list and there are a lot. You know the drill: some have definitely been on lists before, though I tried to highlight some lesser-known ones.

This is also a compilation that reflects my specific interests. As such, the vast majority of these are canon-universe, or pre-canon historical. I will separate them by canon universe and AU/canon-divergent for convenience.

In no particular order:

Canon Universe

A Glacier Moving Through You (10k) - harryhotspur

An exploration of Joe and Nicky’s life in New York during the AIDS crisis. Painfully beautiful and viscerally realistic. Reminds me of what we take for granted. Those who know me know I never shut up about this fic.

Some favourite lines: Their eyes met in a way that said wordlessly, I see you. I am part of your family. Nicky saw David’s shoulders relax and the tears fell from his eyes. He sniffed and wiped them away. Other recs from this author: everything feels too large (the steadings and the fields) (22k), An Unexpected Disruption (2.6k).

Old Olives (21k) - aeili_kindara

A crusades-era fic that I read years ago and it just glued itself into my brain. The author has a slightly different take on Yusuf and Nicolo’s first meeting, in which they actually cross each other at a few different battles on the way to Jerusalem. It’s just incredibly well-written and detailed. Feels like reading a novel or watching a movie.

Some favourite lines: Yusuf’s grin hovers, then broadens. “See you around, then.” Nicolo gives him a bow. “I expect you will.” As he’s walking away, he hears the arrow rather than sees it. He tips his head sideways; it whirs over his shoulder and thunks into the heart of an olive tree. Nicolo doesn’t turn back to look. He twangs the quivering arrow with one finger as he walks by, and hears a voice laughing from the walls. All the way back to camp, he doesn’t stop smiling.

Conviction (21k) - fadagaski

Unfinished, but I urge people to read this one because it is so worth it. Set before the events of the movie, while Andy is travelling alone, the boys take on a job in the Philippines where they end up on either side of a conflict that runs deeper than they expect. This author is so good at tension and details, I was hooked.

Some favourite lines: Nicky pats his shoulder. “Poor Booker,” he says to Joe, “he’s been drinking so much crap since we left him that it has rotted his brain.” Booker shoves him flat, landing in a sprawl across Joe, all three of them laughing as Booker leans across the pair of them to try to steal the bottle from Joe, but Nicky gets there first. It’s been a very long time since Booker has felt a smile on his face. His cheeks ache with the unfamiliar arrangement of muscle.

for i have sinned (8.5k) - apocryphal

Can’t say much about this, to avoid spoilers. I recommend going in blind. It’s just a fantastic character study, with a huge gut punch.

Some favourite lines: Immortality breeds muscle memory by necessity, a brain overloaded with a thousand years of life, seizing on any opportunity it can find to run on autopilot. Joe still reaches for a waterskin he hasn’t carried in seven hundred years. He regularly finds his sword in his hand with no recollection of drawing it.  And he will never remember whether or not he finished strapping Andy’s kevlar, that day.

the axe forgets, the tree remembers (19k) - Flamingbluepanda

Post-movie. After being captured and tortured by some of Kozak’s new guys, Joe loses all of his memories and has to start over again in New York. Meanwhile, the team search for him everywhere.

Some favourite lines: Nicky let out an angry roar and punched a wall hard enough that one of his fingers broke and sent the proximal phalanx pushing through the skin. He didn’t even care or hesitate; he just shook his hand through the air and turned to walk away.  And that was when Andy shot him in the leg.  Nicky collapsed, then rolled smoothly onto his back and raised his gun, eyes wild. “Che cazzo, Andy?” “You wanna get angry and fight something, you fight me,” Andy said, voice low and cold. Nicky narrowed his eyes.

no one does it better (13.8k) - maddielle

While Nile decides to go back to school and take a sexualities elective, Nicky delves into one of her textbooks. He and Joe decide to try their own hand at porn and accidentally get really into it. It’s just a delightful read, and reminds me how old and in love these guys are.

Some favourite lines: “I know what sex is,” Nicky tells him confidently. “I’ve been having sex for nine hundred years. It isn’t this.” “It is for some people, love,” Joe comments, warmly amused, but Nicky shakes his head. “No, this is- There’s no passion. No connection. No one looks like this.” He catches a thumbnail of a slight woman strung up in ropes, all of the knots tied wrong. “It’s irresponsible.” Other recs from this author: come as you are (6k), older now (but not done hoping) (2.5k)

Cabinet of Nonperishable Curiosities (3k) - KushielsMercy

A meditation on Joe and Nicky as a 900-year-old unit. Made me really think about what it means to be together for so many centuries, and it stayed with me for long time after reading. This author always writes so vividly and beautifully too, and I especially love the playfulness between Joe and Nicky in this one.

Some favourite lines: They sit in silence, Nicky’s feet knocking gently back and forth against Joe’s shoulders. Joe always processes Nicky’s body as an extension of his own, but he’s uncomfortably aware of it this morning. Why is it he feels an absence of self when Nicky’s heels float away?  “How much of us,” Nicky finally murmurs, “is each other?” Other recs from this author: Daughter of Dust (1k)

if i’d have lived longer (i still would have waited) (5.4k)- knoepfchen

Pre-canon. An exploration of Joe and parenthood. I re-read this one often, since it’s become very special and personal to me. Truly a beautiful fic.

Some favourite lines: He would have expected Nicolò to be with them, seeing as his skills with a bow nearly rival Quynh’s by now, but he is not. Yusuf rounds the square and finally spots Nicolò crouching in the awning of a side street leading away from the square, surrounded by a throng of children. For a moment, it looks like Nicolò is telling them a story, and Yusuf can picture it, that earnest way of his—but then Nicolò stands to his full height again, one of the children hanging onto his back like a little bear. Yusuf is too far away to hear, but he sees Nicolò’s lips move as he makes what is undoubtedly a whooshing sound, spinning on the spot, arms outstretched. The children shriek in delight, the one on his back the loudest. Other recs from this author: all this time (15.9k), a thicket of shadows is a poor coat (32.8k)

world enough and time (9.5k) - raedear

Post-canon. A delightful fic in which Nicky takes a reluctant Andy to the dentist, and Joe and Nile talk after Joe tells her about a recurring nightmare Nicky has. It has all the emerging found family feels that we all love, as well as that ancient love between Andy and the boys.

Some favourite lines: ‘Nicky had a dream,’ Joe says, as though that explains why he’s the one out of sorts. Maybe it does. Maybe after nine hundred years, they dream the same dreams too. ‘He almost died on the crossing to Jerusalem, you know.’ She didn’t. ‘He dreams sometimes that he did, and because of that he walks alone through this life. It always leaves him shaken.’  It’s not Nicky sitting in front of her, pale at the edges and clutching his coffee like a lifeline. Other recs from this author: I can tell (we are gonna be friends) (1.9k), an astonishment of form (3.7k)

beholder (19k) - liadan14

A throughout-history compilation of Joe and the muse, with himself as the muse, and times he was inspired by others. There’s a story at the end of this fic that Joe wrote that is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read, and I think about it so much. There’s also Joe being a total dumbass in love.

Some favourite lines: For a moment, Nicolò simply continued looking at him, the humor in his eyes softening to something kinder and gentler. Then, he said, “Yusuf, I love you.” “I need to take those bowls to Ahmed,” Yusuf said. Other recs from this author: constant stars (1.5k)

I live on kindness, faith and constant courage (37.7k) - Tam_Cranver

A medieval queer quartet fic set in France that is just incredibly well written. What else can I say? The details, the plot, and the dynamics between the immortals are all perfect. This author is incredible.

Some favourite lines: Yusuf barked out a surprised laugh. “Alas, I’m still not certain I’m up to the task of being Andromache’s husband,” he said in mock mournfulness. “Few men are,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at him. “Now come, help me see if this dress will work for me.” Other recs from this author: Stop, listen, feel, believe (17.2k), The Plate of the Eclipses (90.5k)

whatever here that’s left of me (12.7k) - paigian

After Booker’s departure, the team takes some time off, and Nicky develops an old recurring pain in his shoulder that gets increasingly worse. This fic is all about loss, love, betrayal, and the sheer weight of these things. Gorgeous and timeless.

Some favourite lines: What are these shoulders for? Holding up the weight of Booker’s loneliness; the backs of Joe’s knees; keeping a rifle steady for the kill. Catching a bullet next to the scapula meant for Andy as they escaped that awful building; as a place for Nile to lean against as every bone in her body stitched back together- Other recs from this author: you made a fool of death with your beauty (15.6k), the deaths of nicolo di genova, in ascending order of sexiness and descending order of actual dying (14.2k), the Beyond Measure and Reason series (61.9k)

As The World Falls Down (5.2k) - superblackmarket

One of the first fics I ever read in this fandom. What can I say about superblackmarket? Just fantastic and gorgeously written, every fic.

Some favourite lines: Then one day he woke up—he couldn’t have said what time it was, whether it was morning or evening—and Nicky was sitting at the foot of his bed, looking at him. “Hello, Booker,” he said. He wore a grey kameez over military fatigues and his eyes were like chips of jade. Probably a hallucination, Booker thought. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, slurring his words. “Thought you were up in, uh, whatchamacallit, the…” “How long have you been like this?” Nicky said. Other recs from this author: Tales of Burning Love (5.8k), Ere Babylon Was Dust (7.2k)……… all of them.

Gentle (2.7k) - AphroditesTummyRolls

A very sweet fic about Nicolo and his mama. Made me very misty-eyed. It’s always emotional to think that these war-seasoned immortals were once little children.

Some favourite lines: Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she smoothed his soft hair where it stuck up in a cowlicky tuft. She loved her baby, she loved him.  He was so big now, he weighed on her arms. He gripped at her with his little dumpling fists, and she prayed he’d never let her go. She never wanted to stop holding him.

Centuries and Centuries (102.4k) - marbletopempire

Possibly one of the first crusades-era getting together fics in this fandom, and a famous one but I’m still putting it here. This fic is incredibly written, and such an intimate look into Yusuf and Nicolo’s past. Part of the reason for this is that it’s written entirely in first-person, which I’m a sucker for.

Some favourite lines: Once, when I was a child, I sat on my father’s shoulders and watched as a man was hanged. The crowd was thick, full of laughter, and had the air of a festival. I watched as the man was led up to the gallows, his hands drawn behind his back. His face was one of terror – even at my young age I could tell – and as he looked out over the crowd his wild eyes locked onto mine. People jeered and threw rotten food at him but he did not flinch. He smiled at me briefly before they obscured his head with a sack. Sodomite, I heard whispered around me.

though i’m dying to (fall in love with you) (19.6k) - yusufsmoon

Nicky finds himself hopping between alternate dimensions, finding Joe in each one. This is a comfort classic to me, it just fills me with so much joy.

Some favourite lines: He takes in the way Joe’s eyes are regarding him; there’s an assuredness in those brown depths, that he realizes reminds him of Andy, of Quynh, even, before they lost her. Like they could take on the weight of the world with a smile.

life is very long (7k) - kaydeefalls

The OG description does it perfectly: Nicky and his immortal family, over the centuries. This fic is a forever favourite, full of love and wonder for the world and the immortal family.

Some favourite lines: "Come, habibi," Yusuf murmurs, so close that his beard tickles along Nicolo's neck. "Will you not join me?" Nicolo closes his eyes, trying to keep his breathing even. "I cannot dance." Yusuf presses a kiss into the soft skin just below his ear. "I promise you, this is a dance you know." Other recs from this author: Carthaginians (53k), catch you when the current lets you go (5.4k)

July 1982 (9k) - WarriorOmen

I read this one every summer, I swear. It’s got Joe on a motorcycle, clubbing, and the immortal husbands just being absolutely smitten for each other.

Some favourite lines: 900 years old. He’s 900 years old and completely rooted to the ground from surging lust and excitement because, sitting in the parking lot of this store, is Joe. But it’s not just Joe, it’s some iteration of Joe that is currently straddling a massive black motorcycle, leaning over the handlebars like he owns the thing (which Nicky really hopes he does) and staring straight at Nicky with all the confidence of someone who has well and truly surprised his husband. Other recs from this author: My Blade, My Love (2k)

Rain Season (6k) - yu_gin

This fic takes place after the Chernobyl disaster, where Joe is in a period of depression. The way the reactor is described is so scary, I feel like it’s this ever-surveying, hulking, breathing beast. And the way the effect of radiation on the immortals is described… there’s one small scene that will forever be in my head.

Some favourite lines: That night he went to the reactor once again. He pushed himself closer than ever, determined to look the monster in the eyes. He could feel the heat increasing and the air burning his lungs. He knew what would come, he was familiar with the excruciating pain, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Fast Car (7.9k) - PastyPirate

Joe and Nicky go for a Thanksgiving road trip in the 90s. This fic has one of the best and goofiest representations of the immortal husbands’ relationships I’ve ever read, and the dialogue is so realistic. A major comfort read that I think about all the time.

Some favourite lines: “This is more of a general present,” He held up the cassette, tilting it where Nicky could read the label. Nicky tilted his head to read, and burst into laughter, “you asshole.” Joe looked at the label, Sad Songs for Nicky written in clear script for this very moment, “What? No good? I have another.” He held up the second cassette Happy Songs for Joe scribbled on it.

James Copley’s No Good Very Bad Year (12.7k) - Dr_Amuly

Absolutely delightful fic about the cleanup after Merrick’s, where Joe and Nicky “help” Copley (they fuck with him) go through the old pictures, while Copley hasn’t figured out that they’re a couple.

Some favourite lines: “Joe,” Nicky gentled. “We are nearly a thousand years old.” “I’m thirty-three!” Joe protested. “Anno di Cristi…” Nicky sing-songed under his breath. Joe kicked him—lovingly, of course—under the table.

the profession of my fingers (24.9k) - mellyflori

A classic. This is one of those fics that reminds me why I love these characters so so much. Basically a compilation throughout history of Nicky worshipping Joe’s curls. It’s got some of the tenderest moments. Their love feels really tangible and believable here.

Some favourite lines: "Surely, Lord, you’ve sent this man to test me.” “Did you want me to test you? Because I can—“ “Thank you, Lord, for the gift of this great compassionate spirit in my life.” Other recs from this author: there’s a trick with a knife (i’m learning to do) (65.2k)

Impelled by the Persuasion of Love (2.4k) - Lolo (TheLittleLo)

The queer quartet + courtly love! I read this when the zine came out years ago, then re-read it while I was taking a class in Arthurian literature, and it really has it all. Short but sweet, and I adore how the author writes the dynamic between the four immortals. Feels like a lovely bedtime story.

Some favourite lines: “Can I stay with you tonight?” “I think we can risk one night. You are meant to be the brother of my lady wife, after all.” Nico made a face of disgust. “Do not remind me,” Nico said, and he titled his head up to press his lips to Joseph’s.

the dark matter of you (12.9k) - Syysmyrsky (Arktikko)

Gorgeously written meditation on Yusuf and Nicolo’s early love through Yusuf’s account of an old relationship, and through Nicolo’s eyes. Very vivid and realistic, goofy at times, gets me right in the gut and feels so believable as a conversation between these two. Reminds me why I love their love.

Some favourite lines: It feels so natural, he thinks as he looks at Yusuf, to be with this man, to love him. The more he does, the more it feels like perhaps loving Yusuf is what he has always been meant to do. It certainly had felt like destiny when Yusuf had kissed him that rainy afternoon, urgent and just a little desperate. Hurried, until Nicolò, hands still wet from the rain but so careful, had stroked his palm down Yusuf’s broad back slowly, sweetly, and something in both of them slowed down and settled. Calm like coming home. Other recs from this author: The Devil’s Eye (6.2k)

Per usual it didn’t go as planned (but as it should) (19.8k)- linascribbles

Post-movie. The team spends some time in Peru. I come back to this fic every time I need comfort and some Nile love, it’s just so soft and good.

Some favourite lines: "Nile!" Andy exclaims suddenly, eyes going wide and bright on the mirror. "I'm gonna get wrinkles!" She sounds thrilled about it.  "You'll finally get to contest Joe on that," Nile replies, voice full of laughter. Andy pumps her fist.

The Lamp of Nicholas (20.5k) - ViridianPanther

A crusades-era fic in which Yusuf and Nicolo part ways, and Yusuf finds himself captured and imprisoned in a tower. Such a fun one that feels like a bedtime story or legend. It also got me obsessed with the word “defenestrate.”

Some favourite lines: “—and I saw why the Almighty chose to bless us both with a reprieve from death. Because I have been the receiver of his kindness. And now I will never be able to thank him for that, I will never be able to tell him how much I loved him. Because I let him go back to the place that turned him into a monster, and now—” Other recs from this author: The Death of You (22.7k)

Ten Ounces (3.5k) - suchA_Consequentialist

Post-canon, the aftermath of Joe being kidnapped and tortured. A beautiful fic with a gut-punch. This author is a master of bildup and the gut-punch, I am so so obsessed with it. Can’t say much without spoiling, I think it’s just best to go into this one blind.

Some favourite lines: Against Joe’s chest, Nicky’s hand stays still and flat. He looks stricken and desperate as his hand presses harder against the skin. There is no scar. There can't be. So, Nicky can't know. Other recs from this author: A River Arrives in the House of the Dead Men (The Prodigious Flowering Rage) (4.8k)

To kindle a spark in the darkness (7k) - Nary

Pre-canon outsider POV in the 15th century. This fic has everything I love, following a man named Hassan who encounters the immortals at different times in his life. Follows the thesis of the movie perfectly, and it’s gorgeously written. Feels like watching a movie.

Some favourite lines: Then Yusuf gave a sharp gasp, sitting up. Hassan scrambled back in alarm. Yusuf felt his chest with one hand, fumbling for his weapon with the other. "Ugh, one of them has an arquebus," he said, almost to himself, and then, noticing Hassan a few feet away, he gave a rueful smile. "I didn't mean for you to see that, little one."

Making the Marauders (62.2k) - nizzuto

A medieval Yusuf and Nicolo adventure, a Robin Hood story. They work together covertly to try and convince a greedy duke to have some compassion for his people, and this goes as well as one would expect. This author is a master of epics and tension, so it’s hard to choose a favourite, but this one always has me on the edge of my seat.

Some favourite lines (my favourite line is a spoiler, so): “I,” Nicolò starts and stops and starts again, “He believes I am a harbinger of the Lord. I told him that I was to spread a message of mercy and altruism.” “My Nicolò,” Yusuf says breathlessly. “An angel!” Other recs from this author: He, Dreamless (126.7k), A Man Called Mercy (17k)

The Extraordinarily Complex Task of Condensing a 920-Year-Old Romance into a 145-Word Speech (While Being Abducted) (47.3k) - Liketheriver

An anthology following Yusuf and Nicolo through the centuries, with each scene relating to one line in Joe’s van speech. This fic has everything, everything. It’s such a tasty treat when you’re looking for action, angst, hurt and comfort, romance, and historical accuracy.

Some favourite lines: “Oh, Yusuf,”  Nicolo’s breath hitched, and Yusuf could feel warm tears against his neck.  “It’s gone. All of it is gone.” Yusuf cupped the back of Nicolo’s head, held him tighter.  “I know, my soul, but at least you are not.”

Guiding You Through (6.2k) - mekana47

Post-canon, Booker & Nicky centric. The team is on an undercover mission when Nicky is given a truth serum, and Booker watches over a screen. I’m a sucker for the Nicky & Booker brotherly dynamic, and this fic just hits it right on the head.

Some favourite lines: “He signaled,” Booker traces over the screen. Nicky’s head has dropped to one side, but his hand closest to the camera has two fingers pressed flat against his leg and the other three tucked into a fist. “You have a signal for truth serums,” Nile says flatly. Other recs from this author: Code Pink (700 words), Hold Tight (3.3k)

Illustrious Pagans (6k) - saintsideways

Exactly as it says: Five times Joe and Nicky did drugs. There’s something about this fic that I just want to eat. It’s silly and delightful at times, sexy and mind-bendy at others.

Some favourite lines: “Someone’s house, I guess,” Yusuf said, drowsily. “Is this your hallucination or mine?” “Does it matter?” IT DOES NOT said the eyes, watching them benignly.

AU

Take What You Can (15.7k) - theoxfordcommando

An Old Guard x Pirates of the Caribbean au, executed flawlessly. What more could I ever want? Incomplete, but still very worth the read. The author fit the characters into their roles so perfectly, I just adore it.

Some favourite lines: “I dreamed about you last night.” The words came out much softer than Yusuf had meant them to. Like a whispered confession in the dark hours of night. Nicolò’s eyes widened just a fraction and there, that look he knew. Nicolò was embarrassed. “About the day we met,” Yusuf quickly clarified, less of a whisper this time. “Do you remember it?” Other recs from this author: Lingering Aches (1.6k), The Ballad of Robin Hood and Nicolo (7k)

right where you left me (115.4k) - dreamtiwasanarchitect, liadan14

Canon-divergent au. I can’t say much about this one without spoilers, just… God. Please read this one. I’ve never been able to get it out of my head.

Some favourite lines: Sometimes, he wonders what signal got crossed there, how it is that Nicky’s body takes pain and humiliation and turns them into bright, incandescent pleasure so well.

The Town By The Empty Lake (89.4k) - OldMagpie (Magpie Morality)

This fic deserves so much more everything — kudos, comments, bookmarks. It’s a gorgeous Lovecraftian mystery with an ensemble cast, incredible art and a playlist to match. Just fully immersive. I could picture it all so clearly in my mind.

Some favourite lines: She rears back, heart thumping wildly, unsure what had prompted such a visceral reaction. She only knows she does not want to look at the painting again. Poor Yusuf al-Kaysani, maybe he is going mad - to have painted this and then placed it in his room to watch while he sleeps…

i love the way you see the world (series) (40k) - flightofwonder

A canon-divergent au series in which Joe is deaf. I just want to rec the whole series, because it’s hard to pick one out of it. A true classic.

Some favourite lines: He had never needed to hear the prayers, only to feel them. He trusted in Allah to guide him with the rest.

.....and so many more.

[lilhughesy]

Everywhere Inside My Head | Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

part one. part two. (her perspective)

warnings! mentions of break up and angst!, and I think that's it! word count: 3.5k

summary: the first week post-breakup is said to be the hardest, which isn't wrong when you've been dating the same hockey player since the start of college. you try to find yourself again and how to live a life without him in then picture — but it feels nearly impossible when he's everywhere inside your head.

req: omg please i need a happy ending // Oooof chefs kiss👩‍🍳🤌✨ I can just see reader living her best life and luke seeing her having fun from a distance before groveling and pleading for her back a/n: hi guys! sorry for the wait but here it part three to look at you now and I remember everything! I hope you guys like it!! I lowkey hit a major writers block during it, it's not my best work... lmk if you want one from his perspective! mwah ily all sm 🩷

You laid on your childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling for hours. You weren’t listening to anything, nor were really thinking of much. You were just existing in that moment. You reflected on everything and how much your life had changed in the past week.

It was difficult for you to pack your life in New Jersey into a few suitcases and move back to your hometown in Michigan. All you thought about was him and how your entire life was surrounded by him. He was like the sun and you were one of the planets that revolved around him.

He was your yesterday, today, and your tomorrow.

But now he’s nothing at all.

You knew deep down that you made the right choice, even though it felt so wrong. You knew you deserved more than the crumbs he gave you. You deserved more than eating alone at dinner with his made plate staring at you. You deserved more than staying up late at night wondering if he was coming home or staying at Jack’s, at Nico’s, or at Jesper’s place.

You had grown used to falling asleep alone before leaving him, even though it wasn’t the most comfortable or pleasant feeling. But it felt wrong to go to bed without curling up with his pillow, or to hold his hoodie that smelt so strongly of him close to your chest, or to go to the store and not pick out the ingredients for his favourite meal.

It felt wrong to only make one cup of coffee instead of two.

People always say the first week is the hardest, and they weren’t kidding. You found yourself crying at the smallest things and very frequently. When a song would play on the radio or if you saw the devils post about him — tears would blur your vision. Your parents tried their best to keep your mind off of it but it was difficult when everything in Michigan reminded you of him. It was difficult to get out of bed or to eat or fall asleep, everything seemed to move so slowly or maybe it moved too fast and you couldn’t quite keep up.

You slowly got out of bed and moved to get ready for the day. You had reached out to Ethan and Mark, your closest friends from college, to see if they wanted to spend the day with you.

Ethan and Mark were originally friends with him but inevitably became close friends with you in the process of your relationship forming. They kept your spirits high while you were doing long distance with your boyfriend and provided a great support system for you.

When you pulled out an old UMich hockey t-shirt from your dresser, you remembered vividly the day that the two of you had a flour fight in the kitchen while attempting to bake cookies.

“I hope you know that Ellen never let me in the kitchen to bake.” He chuckled behind you as you pulled out the ingredients from the cupboards. His arms were wrapped around your waist as his face was tucked into the crook of your neck.

You giggled, “I promise you that you can bake. Plus I’m right here anyways!”

"You're going to distract me by having my last name on the back of your shirt y'know," He mumbled against the skin of your neck, his curls tickling you.

"You act like I don't regularly wear your clothes." You teased him, leaned down to kiss his temple. You could feel the smile that grew on his face from your words.

"Okay, little miss baker, tell me where to start," He said to you before finally pulling away. You guided him through the different measurements and ingredients to add to the bowl. His country playlist hummed quietly in the background as the kitchen was filled with your lively conversations and the common laugh here and there.

It was all tame until it came to mixing the ingredients, "Luke!" You gasped as flour went flying out the edge of the bowl, "You're spilling it!"

"It's not my fault that I'm just that strong, have you seen my biceps?" He joked as you tried to scoop the flour into your hands. Your hands were covered in white when a mischievous smile drew across your lips,

"You mean these big biceps?" You smirked while planting a large handprint on the sleeve of his black crewneck. HIs jaw dropped at the sight of your hands on his clothes,

"You did not!" He cried out dramatically, releasing the wooden spoon that he held, "Oh you just started something that you're going to lose."

Your eyes widened while he grabbed a small fistful of flour directly from the bag and tossed it at the front of your (his) navy t-shirt. The cloud of white caused you to cough a bit before bursting into a fit of laughter. Yeah, so much for a peaceful cute afternoon of baking cookies with your boyfriend.

The memory that played in your head caused a flood of tears to flow from your eyes. It left you crumbled on your bedroom floor with the same shirt clutched to your chest as sobs shook your body. You didn’t even hear the two boys come into your room.

Ethan held you close as he let the tears run their course, while Mark had quietly cleaned up your room — knowing that you were never a fan of a messy space. He sorted your clothes into their designated drawers and tossed garbage into the trash before returning back to you.

“Oh you poor thing,” Ethan mumbled into your hair as you tried to regulate your breathing, “It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m trying so hard to not think of him,” You choked out as you wipe away the tears, “But everything reminds me of him.”

“You don’t need him,” Mark said to you, sitting down at the foot of your bed, “He’s been hurting you and he doesn’t deserve all these tears.”

Ethan nodded along to Mark’s words, “Exactly, plus you’re hot and sexy so like you can pull any other guy in the world.”

You let out a weak laugh through your sniffles, “I can’t even imagine dating someone who’s not Luke.”

“Have you spoke to him since you left?” Ethan asked, his arms resting to his sides. You shook your head,

“I told him not to reach out to me and he hasn’t said a thing since.”

“Good for Hughesy,” Mark mumbled, “I’m surprised that he actually listened.”

“You deserve so much more, you know that right?” Ethan said to you, while wearing a sad smile on his usual happy face.

You wiped a rogue tear from your cheek, “I know. That’s why I left in the first place, I couldn’t keep doing what we were doing.”

“You’re so strong,” Mark told you, rubbing slow circles on your back with his hand, “We’re both really proud of you. We love Lukey, he was our teammate but we also love you too.”

“Thanks guys,” You replied, finally calming down. Mark gave you a hand up from the bed before the two of them guided you out of your house for the first time in a while. You got into Ethan's car, you in the passenger seat while Mark took the back seat. Ethan started driving to who knows where while you just rolled down the window.

You leaned your head towards the window and enjoyed the feeling of the wind blowing through your hair. The sun was warm on your skin, your body most definitely soaking up every bit of the sunlight. Music played from the stereo but you didn't pay much attention to the lyrics, only reflecting on the thoughts that played in your head.

It was a strange feeling from having a constant in your life for the past four-ish years in the shape of your boyfriend to not having him at all. It would be a lie if you said that you didn't miss him because in reality, every fibre of your being did.

You told yourself every hour of each day that you deserved more than what he gave you, but you missed him. The version of him that you fell so deeply in love with all those years ago. His soft eyes that were adorned with love and his cute crooked smile that fill your body with butterflies. All of the sweet words he would say to you when you were having a rough day, and how safe his arms felt.

It is never easy to date a professional athlete, but boy was it ever so easy to love one.

"You okay?" Mark asked quietly as Ethan parked the car, his voice pulled you out of your trance.

"Yeah, I'm okay." You offered the two boys a smile, "Just thinking, that's all."

Ethan's hand brushed over your upper arm, "C'mon, let's get some ice cream. It's the solution to everything."

You followed the two hockey players into the ice cream parlour, each of you choosing a flavour before paying. Ethan paid for yours after claiming that it was the least he could do after what his idiotic best friend did to you. The three of you sat outside on the bench, laughing at whatever story Mark was explaining to you.

The boys were right, ice cream does seem to solve every problem. The cold sugary sweetness of the dessert dancing in your mouth as you grinned at your friends in front of you seemed to bring the happier side of you out.

And just for a moment, it did feel like everything is finally okay. That everything does happen for a reason and the end of the emotionally tolling relationship, you would be okay. Until your phone vibrated.

Luke: Hey, do you have time to talk?

Luke: I know that I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but please this is important.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, and you assumed the smile on your face dropped too as you read the notification.

"Everything okay?" Ethan asked cautiously, his eyes bouncing between you and your phone that you were intensely staring at.

You swallowed hard, "He just texted me."

Mark's lips tightened into a thin line, "I guess I spoke too soon... Are you going to reply?"

"I don't know," You mumbled, rereading his texts again, "Should I?"

"It's up to you honestly," Ethan responded, glancing over your shoulder to see what the devils player sent to you, "Do you want to hear what he has to say?"

"Sort of... But I think it's because I feel bad for just leaving him without saying anything."

"But you did say something to him!" Mark commented, "You told him how you felt and how you saw things, he should've changed his behaviour right after you spoke to him. Not after you finally left."

"He's not wrong," Ethan hummed, agreeing with Mark, "He's probably going to say something like... I'm so sorry, I miss you so much baby, I love you, and I promise I'm going to change or at least some sort of bullshit like that."

You frowned, knowing that they had good points. You decided that you would make your decision later and opted to head back to your home with Ethan and Mark. You were enjoying your time with your friends and you refused to let him ruin that for you.

Besides, did you actually want to hear from him? Is he going to ask you to get back together with him? Is he going to tell you that he's going to change and promise to not treat you like that again?

More importantly, what are you going to say? Would you take him back? Would you fall for his empty promise about changing yet again?

All these thoughts danced in your head as you laid in bed that night. You had yet to respond to his two text messages. You knew in your gut that you physically could not handle the feeling of being a second or third choice to him. Not again. You knew that you deserved to be loved and cherished so loudly and proudly, which he failed to do on multiple occasions.

But him talking to you was important to him, and it was going to mean something to him. So you replied,

You: does a phone call work with you?

His response was immediate.

Luke: Yeah, if that's what you want. Is now okay?

You looked at the top right corner of your phone screen, seeing that it was 8:13PM. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating if you were ready to hear his voice again. But if you didn't do it now, it would probably keep you awake all night.

You: ya, now is fine

In seconds, your screen lit up with his contact photo that made your stomach twist. You had yet to change it and it was one of your favourite photos of you two together. You pressed the pick-up button to his call, taking a sharp inhale as you did so.

"Hey," You heard his voice and suddenly the walls that you had built up seemed to crumble a bit. His voice was shaky and you could tell from his tone that he hadn't been sleeping. He sounded exhausted.

Your hands trembled slightly as they held the phone to your ear, "Hi."

"I wasn't sure if you would actually pick up," He breathed out, you could tell that he was trying to suppress the shakiness in his words, "But, I'm really glad that you did."

You only hummed in response, you didn't know what to say. What do you say to your now ex-boyfriend after pulling an Irish goodbye on a random Tuesday afternoon.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," He continued after pausing for a moment, "I wish I could tell you this in person because you deserve an apology face to face, rather than over the phone."

"I don't think I would fly to New Jersey for an apology." You replied with a slightly harsher tone than his and harsher than you anticipated.

You heard him stammer at your words, then hesitation as he seemed to be calculating the right words to say next, "Then I guess right now would be a bad time to tell you that I'm at your front door."

You sat up from your previously lying position, your hand clutching onto your phone even tighter, "You're what?"

You scrambled from your bed, in your oversized t-shirt and small athletic shorts, running down the stairs of your parent's home to the front door. You peeked from the glass to see his tall figure standing on the front porch.

You hung up the phone call and opened the door slightly. The air in your throat hitched as you took in the sight of him. He wore his sweatpants with the black Artizia hoodie that he had 'borrowed' from you. His curls were hidden under a Yankees cap that you knew he loved so much.

His eyes that were typically so bright, were dull. He had signs of the lack of sleep he's gotten, evident in his dark under eye bags and his paler skin. He looked just as exhausted as he sounded over the phone.

"Wha- What are you doing here?" You stuttered out, still in shock that he was standing in front of you rather than in your apartment back in Jersey.

His hand rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick that he had, "You didn't respond to me when I first texted you and I got worried that something might have happened to you... So I called your mom and she told me that I can come over to try to fix it."

You were at a loss of words.

"You called my mom? No wait, you flew from New Jersey this afternoon to check on me?" You repeated his words, in somewhat of a state of shock from the information you were still processing.

"I know you told me to not come and find you or talk to you," He swallowed hard before stuffing his hands into the pocket of your sweater that he wore, "But you deserve an actual apology for what I put you through. You didn't deserve any of that."

You slowly nodded, still catching up on the situation. You opened the door further, welcoming him into the home that he had visited on multiple occasions. You guided him to your childhood bedroom, with you sitting on your mattress while he opted for the chair by your desk.

"I'm sorry for just showing up," He said to you, pulling off his hat and resting it on the desk, "It's just- It didn't sit right with me that I made you feel unwanted and unloved and that I didn't care about you and that you never got to hear me say sorry."

Your focus was on your hands and twisting the rings that you wore, and only briefly glancing up to look at him as he spoke to you.

"I am so sorry," He started, his voice regaining the slight shakiness that it had over the phone, "I never meant to hurt you like that and I know that's so stupid of me to say after doing all of that to you. You didn't deserve to feel that way ever and it makes me feel sick that I did that to you after everything- after everything you have done for me."

Your heart clenched and twisted at the way his voice got heavy as he tried to bury down his tears. You could hear it. Your chest felt tighter as he rambled on and your vision blurred as your eyes glossed over.

"You've done nothing but love and support me through everything and you're the best thing to ever happen to me," You finally pulled your eyes away from your rings and locked eyes with his blue ones. The same blue ones that you fell in love with, now brimmed with tears.

"Hockey has always been a big part of me and it's a part of who I am but you, you are my future and you are what I live for." He told you, a singular tear escaping from the corner of his eyes as he slowly approached you.

You stayed sitting on your bed as he lowered to his knees and carefully took your hands into his, "I don't deserve your forgiveness. Not after everything I put you through. But I love you. I love you so fucking much. You are the reason that I am where I am and I am who I am."

"I love you and I've done a shit fucking job of showing it lately and you deserve so much more than what I have given you," He said while pressing a kiss on your knuckles,

“You’re the love of my life, my every feeling is controlled by the look of your face,” Luke confessed with his hands running through his curls as he started spilling the emotions he wanted to desperately show you, “Fuck knows I can’t sleep without you.”

“I exist for you,” He breathed out, looking directly into your eyes, “If I could take it all back and make sure that you never doubted your position in my life, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“Luke…” You mumbled out, your voice soft as you sat frozen in place. 

His large hands cupped your cheeks as he looked up to meet your downward tilted face, his thumb gently brushing away the loose strands that had fallen over your eyes. 

“I know,” He whispered, “It kills me every day knowing that you are far away from my life and it kills me to know that I could have prevented it."

You slowly nodded with your glossy eyes and a small smile starting to etch onto your face, “Oh, Luke.”

“God, I fucking love you and I can’t ever see myself with anyone else because you’re it for me. I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that's what it means to keep you, I love you."

“I love you too, Luke” You smiled as tears finally started to fall from your eyes. He smiled back at you,

“Don’t say too because then you’re just agreeing with me." Luke teased while wiping away your tears.

You giggled, “I love you Luke Hughes.”

You grabbed his biceps and pulled him to his feet as you stood up from the bed. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck while his instinctively looped around your middle, "Let's never do that again." You said to him and he let out a breathy chuckle,

"I don't think I can handle being away from you." He whispered before kissing your lips softly, "I'm so sorry."

"I know you are," You mumbled against his lips.

[merrybloomwrites]

The Sound of Your Heart in Your Head

Summary: When your usually quiet boyfriend is dared to yell in front of you, trauma from you past leaves you anxious. But Spencer proves once again that you have nothing to worry about with him, and he remains your safe space.

Word Count: 1.9

CW: abusive family, shouting, alcoholic parent, abusive ex

AN: Big thank you to the anon who sent this request! Definitely helped me past some series Smosh writers block. Sorry I disappeared from this fandom for a bit, hoping to post more regularly again!

Title from the song “Quiet” from the musical Matilda

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You had a loud childhood.

Not in the fun way, with jokes and laughter and family hanging out together playing games. You’d seen that in other families, how they’re all so excited to be together and share stories that they talk over one another.

But not in your house. The loud noise never came from excitement or joy. It was always from a place of anger.

Your dad was a drunk. Like, textbook, afterschool special, stereotypical drunk dad. He worked at a quarry and always came home tired, overheated, and cranky. His first stop was the fridge to grab a drink. He’d settle in his recliner and soon he was yelling your name, screaming at you to bring him another beer.

It was the same every afternoon. By evening he’d be intoxicated, and he was a mean drunk. He’d yell at your mother that dinner wasn’t ready, or tasted bad. He’d yell at you for being lazy, or getting a bad grade, or asking for pretty much anything you needed.

Your mother wasn’t much better. She fought back with him, and the screaming matches could go on for hours. She’d yell at him for yelling at you and when that didn’t work, she’d yell at you to just do whatever your father said. She told you she did that to keep the peace. Looking back you realize just how ironic that was.

You grew up, moved out, and thought now you’d have some peace. You found a boyfriend, Michael, who seemed perfect. And he was for the first year so you decided to move in together. Things remained good for a few months. And then it got loud.

The yelling was never aimed towards you. His friends were loud, always talking in booming voices and arguing with each other. A simple hangout always ended heated with someone storming out. Michael would yell about dumb people at his work.

And he was a gamer. An intense one. He wouldn’t play too often, but when he did, the shouting started. You’d be in the other room and hear him occasionally yell about something that happened in the game. You would jump every time, and it would take ages for your heart rate to go back to normal.

After nearly two years together, he started to shout at you as well. At first he would just raise his voice slightly. And then it got louder and louder. You refused to take that, to be in the same position you’d been in your whole life.

So you broke up. No discussion, no trying to fix it. You were done being around people who yell.

You decide to stay single for a while, focus on yourself and your peace and quiet.

But then you meet Spencer at the grocery store. Some silly jokes in the produce section have you interested, and the shy way he asks you on a date hooks you.

When the two of you go out to dinner for the first time you learn about his job. You admit that you’d never watched Smosh before and you become hesitant when he says he’s in charge of the gaming channel. You hadn’t planned to date again, especially not another gamer after your last experience.

But something about Spencer lets you know that he’s different. He’s soft, and kind, and you know you want to give him a chance.

So you go home that night, a second date already in the calendar, and do some research. It feels weird to watch videos of the guy you just went out with, but you’re curious to see what he’s like when he plays.

And you’re more than happy with what you see. He jokes, and banters, and smiles and laughs as he calmly plays games with the others. The only time he gets mad is when it’s fake angry for a bit. And that helps you feel better about him.

The next date you go on makes you feel even better, since you go to a local barcade. When you get there you learn that Spencer doesn’t drink, and having grown up with an alcoholic father, it settles you to know this information.

Your relationship with Spencer continues to flourish. It takes some time, but you eventually start opening up about your past. Each time you share something, he listens, giving you his full undivided attention. He reassures you that you’ll never have to go through that again.

As you grow closer, Spencer asks if you’ll join him at a party with his friends. It makes you nervous, but of course you say yes. It’s a fun get together, people hanging outside, others playing Mario Kart in the living room. Everything is going well, and you’re enjoying hanging with his friends. But then there’s a yell. Not out of real anger, but it’s still loud, and jarring, and it makes you jump.

Spencer notices this and gives you a look, but you tell him you’re fine, that it’s not a big deal.

You spend the night at his place, and you both settle on the couch for a little bit when you get back there.

“So, how did you like everyone?” Spencer asks.

“They’re great. Everyone is really nice. I had a good time,” you reply.

“I’m glad to hear it. I just wanted to check that you were alright. I noticed you got a bit scared when Shayne yelled.”

You think about telling him the whole truth, but for some reason you don’t. He knows so much of your past already, has listened to you share the sad and scary details. But for some reason you don’t want to burden him with your fear of loud noises as well.

“Just got startled is all,” you reply.

It’s clear he doesn’t fully believe you, but he does respect your choice of whether or not to tell the story yet. Instead of digging for more information, he simply pulls you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you sit like that for a few minutes before deciding to head to bed. You fall asleep feeling safe and content in Spencer’s arms.

Your relationship continues to flourish, and you get to the point where you occasionally visit him at work. Today is one of those days.

You’re especially excited because you get to watch Spencer film a video where they play the game Mine Turtle. You know it will be silly to see them do the dares on the cards, and it’s cool to see him in his role as director of the channel.

Sitting quietly in the back behind the cameras, you watch Spencer in his element. It’s hard to keep from laughing too loud as they go through the first dares.

Angela reads the next card for Spencer, and it says, “The dare is yell ‘blank’ as loud as you can.”

As Amanda and Angela whisper about what word could fill in the blank and you start to feel a little bit unsure about being here for this.

“I don’t know if I can emphasize this enough,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I’ve ever really yelled.”

It’s so sincere and you know he’s not lying. Especially since his castmates start to get excited by seeing him do something they’ve never seen before.

They decide the word should be “movies” and Spencer gets up to stand away from the mics. From there he has a better view of you, and notices how you’ve closed in on yourself, arms crossed and eyes locked on him with some worry.

He keeps bantering with the others but gives you a look, wondering if you’ll be okay if he goes through with it. You put on a reassuring smile and nod to let him know you’re alright.

He ends up facing the other way, and you’re unsure if this makes you feel better or worse. Sometimes it’s better to see the person's face so you can anticipate the loud noise. But on the other hand, you like that you can’t see his face and you’ll still never know what he looks like yelling.

He turns around again, jokingly asking for tips, but really he’s checking one more time that you’re okay with this. You give another nod for him to continue.

He faces the wall once more and takes a deep breath. You brace yourself for what happens next, and then finally he shouts “Movies!” as loud as he can.

Immediately the room bursts into laughter and instead of being afraid, you can’t help but laugh as well. The stance, the hands, the fact that his loudest scream isn’t even that loud, all of it it’s just silly rather than scary.

As he sits down and they joke about Clerks 2, Spencer looks at you again. When he sees you laughing, he starts to smile, happy to see that you’re still happy.

They finish filming, and since it’s the last thing scheduled for the day, you and Spencer leave together. You decide to stop for dinner before once again spending the night at his place.

You’re back in his living room, a movie playing on TV, leaning against his side and feeling perfectly content. That is, until a dramatic scene when the two characters start shouting and you hide in Spencer’s neck like you’re hiding from a monster.

He quickly pauses the movie and asks what’s wrong. Finally, you tell him the truth about your parents, and about your ex. You explain why loud noises and people raising their voices scares you. Spencer holds you the entire time you speak, not interrupting but clearly listening to every word.

You don’t realize that you’ve started crying until he gently wipes the tears away.

“Baby, I am so sorry you went through all of that. No one should ever be so afraid of the people who are meant to love them the most. And I’m so sorry I screamed during the video today, if I had known your history-”

“No, Spencer, that’s the point!”

“I’m lost,” he says, looking adorably concerned and confused.

“When you yelled earlier, I didn’t feel scared at all. Because I know you would never yell at me. I was nervous at first but I’m glad it happened. Because it proved that I’ll never have to be scared of you.”

“Oh, honey,” he says, pulling you onto his lap. “Of course you won’t. I will never hurt you, I promise.”

“I know. I trust you. Thank you for being so good to me,” you say.

“Please don’t thank me for being a decent person. No one should have put you through that. You deserve so much better.”

“And now I have it. I have you.”

“You have me,” he confirms, leaning in for a kiss.

This doesn’t cure you of your fears. There are still times where loud noises make you jump, or you have to interact with your parents, or you get yelled at by your boss. But now you have someone to turn to when this happens.

He comforts you, reassures you, and most importantly remains calm and gentle. When the rest of the world is too loud, he’s the quiet safe place.

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AN: Thank you for reading! If you have any Spencer, Ian, or Damien requests please lmk!

[pomefioredove]

Hello! I would like to request overblot boys + cater & tweels finding out that the reader who is usually shy and calm all the time is actually a streamer/vtuber. They’re very chaotic when they stream like whenever they get jumpscare, reader would scream really loud and when they find something funny, they would let out the most contagious laugh that would also make their viewers laugh at the most unfunniest things.

Thats all! Please take your time and take care╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ vtuber reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, cater, leona, azul, jade, floyd, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

Cater first came across your content on Magicam. you're popular enough to have people reposting clips of your streams, and, of course, he recognized the cadence of your voice. after a little investigation, he's sure it's you... though he hasn't brought it up quite yet. he's keeping that info for when he needs it

he did, however, tell Riddle, who...

"I don't understand,"

...yeah. he doesn't get your jokes or your avatar or anything really, but he still follows and watches to support you... not that he'd ever admit it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

how did Leona find out? your guess is as good as mine. maybe you let something slip, maybe Cater said something, maybe he just had a feeling

either way, he really enjoys the look on your face when he holds up his phone to show you one of your own streams

"This you?"

...then, he never brings it up again

whether he still watches is for him to know, and you to guess

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade always had a suspicion that you were more than meets the eye, but he never had any reason to pry until Floyd let himself into your room while you were in the middle of a stream

"OOH, pretty, can I try?"

of course, you have to fend him off from your keyboard, and he settles for watching, instead

the next time you stream, he's there again, with Jade, too

the time after that, Azul is also watching

you have no idea why the three of them find this side of you so captivating, but they're quiet, so you let them stay

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Kalim is more online than you'd think. he probably saw a clip of you in a try not to laugh compilation and brought it to Jamil

"Hey, look, their name kinda sounds like our friend! What a funny coincidence!"

Jamil doesn't say anything then, but later, he does look into it. it doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together, after all

he doesn't say anything to you. it's hardly enough for blackmail, and he sees no other reason to bring it up

sometimes, though, when he's alone and working, he'll put on a stream just to hear your voice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook knows, because of course Rook knows, and of course he tells Vil when he feels like it

and of course Vil looks you up out of curiosity, and of course he's surprised to see that you have quite a following. nothing compared to his, but he can't blame you for that. he wonders why you never talk about this, but assuming you have a good reason, he doesn't ask you to, either

...he could never admit that he finds your silly jokes and bits funny, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is the pièce de résistance in all of this

he knew before Kalim, he knew before Cater, he even knew before Rook

he'd been going through different streams and stumbled across yours because he thought your avatar was cute, and...

of course, he recognized you. the way you pause when you're talking, your laugh, even your choice of jokes, is all so... you. he knew you were hiding something behind that shyness

he's been a subscriber and donator since he recognized you, and the only reason he's never brought it up IRL is because he'd pass out if he had to talk to you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's the only one who didn't know until you told him personally (and, even then, he was confused)

it's not like Silver or Sebek are regularly watching vtuber streams, and if Lilia were (he probably is), he wouldn't have said anything. so, it's up to you

it takes a bit to explain everything, and you'll have to show him your avatar to satisfy his curiosity, but he understands everything rather easily

though, he notes that your avatar is not nearly as cute as you are in real life